Hello everybody, and happy holidays! It's been a long time since I wrote Fire Emblem fanfiction, but now it's Winter Break and I need something to occupy my time. So I was reading some of my favorite old authors on FFN, and became inspired to write again!

Yeah, I know, there aren't any old stories in my profile. That's because I'm not using my old profile. I read some of the stuff I wrote when I was 15 and felt like vomiting, so I figured I might as well disassociate myself with that crap ;P. But hopefully I've gotten better, which is for you, the readers, to decide! And please review, I really enjoy reading your feedback. It makes me a better writer for it!

Synergy

Chapter 1: Trust Me

The inn was warm, a stark contrast to the freezing night temperatures of Sacae, not to mention far more welcoming than the bar across the street that was literally trembling from the violent activity inside. But there was no escape from the alcohol addicted culture of the city, as the inn's common room was full of both Bulgarian visitors and inhabitants drinking their troubles away in a blissful haze. They laughed loudly, pounding their fists into the tables over jokes that weren't remotely funny. They tripped over each other when offering to grab their comrades some more booze. And they obnoxiously fawned all over some of the admittedly pretty barmaids weaving around the crowd to pick up empty mugs.

But at least it was warm.

A hunched, shivering figure made its way to the tender counter in the back of the room and sat on one of the barstools. He had been sleeping for far too long outside without any shelter and his supplies had gone dry. If he hadn't found the city he it would have meant certain starvation. Or pneumonia. Whichever came first.

"Would you like something to drink?" asked the bartender politely, moving to grab a glass from the cabinet.

"Water please..." he croaked, still trying to produce some semblance of warmth by rubbing his hands together. She nodded and filled a glass of water for him, placing it on the counter. The newcomer practically inhaled the precious liquid and sighed, now fully taking in the surroundings. It wasn't exactly the tidiest or the most stable building he had seen. So this is what it had come to, he mused and chuckled internally.

Mark was hardly what one would call a physical specimen. Only average in height at about 5'6, he had a thin, weak build that inhibited him from wielding any weapons bigger than the short dagger he carried inside his cloak. Nor did he have any talent in spellcasting, unable to tame the inner spiritual forces that controlled Anima, Light, and Dark magic. He didn't have a handsome face; his facial features often conformed to the shape of his bones in almost an unhealthy way and his brown hair was a mess, flying in all different directions. Nor did he possess any special charismatic personality; he was not a stiff recluse, but he could hardly turn on a magnetic demeanor to charm people with. No, it was safe to say that Mark wasn't the talk of the town anywhere he went.

But Mark was gifted in a way that wouldn't be known to anyone but those who knew him personally. He possessed a mind that was razor sharp, a characteristic that let him take command of any situation and find a logical course of action simply through his power to reason. He had never encountered a puzzle he couldn't solve, a chessmaster he couldn't defeat, a thief he couldn't outwit. He was a brilliant strategist.

He could only mentally laugh at his predicament. He had left home to become world renowned, and instead the world now had his head under its boot. His luck had been lousy ever since he departed, as he slowly recollected the events; first being robbed by a group of bandits in Ilia, then working for a pittance in Etruria, and finally running away and running out of supplies in Sacae. Not the happiest times of his life.

Mark suddenly choked and broke into a loud coughing fit. Great, now I'm coming down with some kind of ailment. Lightly tipping the empty glass to and fro in his hands, he stared into the wooden counter, pondering his next move.

"I love you baby..."

Mark's eyes lazily drifted to his left where a young man not much older than himself was caressing his love interest lightly. The girl was swooning with a star struck look in her eyes, completely entranced by her lover's flowery speech.

"I've always loved you! From the moment I laid eyes on you!" She responded breathlessly, drawing her body closer to the young man. His smile widened as he picked her up and carried her upstairs, trying his hardest not to trip on the steps. Mark chuckled aloud at the currently happy couple, darkly estimating how long they would last together.

If only it were that simple.

***

The next morning was a typical day on the Sacaen plains. It often got very cold at night, but the days were relatively moderate with a usually shining sun offering warmth and a light breeze keeping it from getting too hot. Lyn was awake a little earlier than usual that day; she began her daily routine by taking in the endless plains with her eyes and the cool morning air with a deep breath. An eighteen year old girl living alone on the plains was certainly unusual, but as the lone survivor of the Lorca tribe, Lyn's situation was unique.

The six months of lonely life had shaped Lyn's persona into a strong willed, independent young woman. She kept herself self sufficient by hunting bison on the plains and taking water from the nearby pond. Sacaen plainsfolk had no ownership of property; everything under the Sky and the Earth was for all people to share. She cooked her own food, washed her own clothes, and even administered her own medicine. Lyn was also a skilled swordswoman, taught by her father at an early age, but perfected later on after hours of self training. She was confident she could take care of herself.

And yet, Lyn was restless. How much longer could she live alone in a hut in the middle of the plains? She had a deep affection for her homeland, but there was a void in her heart and mind. She was as skilled as she could be simply by training on her own. There had to be more purpose to her life. Was it going after the bandits who had killed her tribe? Was it going off in an attempt to bring the tribe back together? Or maybe her destiny lied somewhere beyond the lazy, rolling plains of her birth?

She sighed as she went to the nearby pond to refill her store of water. She knew she had to go eventually, but she couldn't just leave without any sense of direction. Lyn was no fool, she knew that she wouldn't be able to survive in the world without help, however confident in her own ability she was. Dipping a container into the pond, she stared at her reflection. It was hard to describe what she was waiting for; she wasn't scared per se, but she knew that something was missing. There was something that needed to happen before she could go, some gap that needed to be filled, but she had no idea what it was. This train of thought left her deeply unsatisfied as she turned back to her hut.

Lyn suddenly tripped and gave a surprised gasp, snapping out of her thoughts. She winced, wondering why she didn't notice it before. "It" turned out to be a person, a young man in fact, wearing a green robe that camouflaged quite nicely with the surrounding grass. Curiously, she turned over the fallen figure and checked his vital signs. He was alive but unconscious. She couldn't just leave him to die, and die he surely would if she didn't help. So she picked him up and carried him back to the hut.

Laying the boy on her bed, she felt his neck with the back of her hand. It was burning with fever, which probably explained his collapse in the middle of the plains. Lyn drenched a towel with water and put it on his forehead, just like her mother had shown her when she was a child. Lyn was glad she had absorbed these kinds of tidbits from her parents; otherwise she would have to travel to the nearest village every other day for daily problems. She smiled at the boy lying on the bed; somehow she felt that things were not going to be the same when he would wake up.

***

Mark groggily opened his eyes, unsure of where he was. The last thing he remembered after leaving Bulgar at dawn was being on the plains east of the city, and from there the memory became hazier and hazier. He did remember looking for some kind of healer when his fever suddenly worsened, but it was too late.

But, he didn't feel ill anymore. He slowly got up in the little bed he was lying in and took in the surroundings. He was indoors now, inside a quaint little hut with various possessions scattered liberally around. It was a simple, yet very homely area that had brown curtains draped around a little stove and a fireplace across the room. He instinctively took particular notice of the sword near the entrance of the hut. Scratching his head, he wondered how he got there, how much time had elapsed, and where his belongings were.

One of his questions was answered immediately answered as a young girl walked into the hut. She was a tall, striking girl, not much younger than he was. She wore traditional Sacaen clothes, a flowing, short-sleeved garb that split at her legs. Her eyes were sparkling emerald, and her matching hair was tied in a ponytail that ran all of the way to her knees. She was physically very mature but her face betrayed a sort of innocence and naïveté reserved for much younger girls. His mind was still groggy and not processing fully, and he let about a breathless whisper.

"Sweet Elimine..."

Thankfully for Mark, his self control kicked in just in time and the girl didn't notice his low keyed gasp. She smiled warmly at him and picked up a ceramic bowl from the stove.

"Are you awake? I found you unconscious on the plains," She said while offering him the bowl. Inside was a peculiar green paste that was surprisingly tasty and warm to him.

"I am, thanks. Who are you?" Mark's response was rather brusque, but society had trained him to be a cynic. He would not let his guard down just because of another pretty face.

The girl didn't seem to mind the rough edges of the gesture. "I'm Lyn, of the Lorca tribe. You have nothing to fear from me, you're safe. Who are you? Can you remember your name?"

Mark nearly laughed aloud at the last question, but figured it would be rude to do so. Lyn seemed to trust him enough to bring him to her home and give up her name, so he might as well return the favor. "My name is Mark. I'm a traveler."

"I see... What brings you to Sacae?" Her eyes were shining with such innocent curiosity that Mark had to hold back another chuckle.

"Well, it's a long story..."

"Do you care to tell it? I have time..." Lyn pressed him further. Mark was beginning to realize that she wasn't accustomed to strangers from outside of Sacae, as he couldn't find any other reason she would care about the life story of a poor wanderer like himself.

"Hm, where should I begin...?"

The story was cut short however, as there was the sound of a heated argument outside. Lyn instantly became alert and reached for her sword before Mark could move. "Wait here, I'll see what's happening." Mark frowned and got out of the bed, straightened his clothes and followed her outside.

The interruption came from a pair of bandits lumbering down the grassy plains, arguing and threatening each other rather loudly. Lyn urgently turned to Mark.

"Bandits, and they are headed towards the local village. I can't let them get there! There's only two... I think I can handle them" she said breathlessly, and Mark couldn't help but notice the distinct amount of disgust in her voice. He sagely nodded in agreement.

"Lyn, I can help you," he said. Mark was far from the selfless type, but he had a good sense of timing about when to lend his assistance. He had no idea if Lyn was accurate about her own abilities as well as the bandits, and he would never be able to clear his conscience if someone who had been so kind to him was cut down right before him. But there was more to his reasoning than for the sake of his conscience alone. He had never commanded a troop before, not because of a lack of talent, but because the right situation had never presented itself before. Mark was beyond eager to prove himself and felt this was finally his chance.

"You can? Do you wield a weapon?"

Mark smirked. "Even better. I'm a tactician by trade."

"Oh, a strategist? That's... odd..." she said, wondering whether he would be of any help at all. Mark knew exactly what she was thinking.

"Trust me. I'm much more valuable than another hired sword would be. Just follow my orders and you can't lose." Mark's gaze was serious, brimming with confidence. He held his belief for a reason; he could not remember the last time he was outsmarted on the battlefield. It was the one ability that he had unshakable faith in.

Lyn, however, was unsure of taking orders from someone she had just met. She had been alone on the plains for so long that she rarely needed anyone's help anymore. It was an uncomfortable situation for her, placing her chances of victory somewhere beyond her complete control. From the look on Mark's face, he was borderline overconfident, and it scared her. But at the same time, she was unsure of whether she could beat both of the bandits. She had practiced her technique, but not on other living people. And besides, she had no knowledge of the nuances of the battlefield. Mark claimed to be versed in these exact ways, so the partnership made sense. And yet still...

She looked down at her sword, emanating uncertainty. Mark was quick to notice.

"Please Lyn... trust me..." he pleaded, determined not to let this opportunity slip by. He understood why she hesitated, but he would prove himself to her.

"I... I..."

"Lyn... you trusted me enough to bring me to your house... you trusted me with your name and tribe... you saved my life, Lyn! Let me return the favor..." he pleaded. Mark was now holding her by the shoulders looking right at her eyes, but her sight was directed to the floor. I'm not going to miss this chance, Lyn.

Slowly looking up into his gaze, she reluctantly nodded. "Let's go."

***

"What! How... how did you..." Batta the Beast managed to force out before he collapsed on to the grass. Their duel was short, but intense and Lyn was the victor. She stood in front of the ger and sheathed her sword, panting hard. So this is what it's like to kill... She thought to herself as she grimly watched the motionless corpse on the grass.

"Well done Lyn. You've captured the ger, the battle is won."

Lyn looked back across the plains at Mark, who was a safe distance away from the conflict. And yet somehow, he was still communicating with her, as she could hear his orders inside of her head. I'll have to ask about that later... she thought, turning towards the hut-like structure that was now left unguarded with a new sense of pride and accomplishment. She had won. The adrenaline of battle slowly eased away and she was able to remember how Mark's tactics were so precise and effective. She remembered how she had lured the first bandit into the forest under Mark's direction, where she had a clear advantage. She then recalled how she was able to beat Batta by attacking relentlessly from the blind side. And she also remembered...

Lyn blushed, looking at the large wound on her off shoulder. She had gotten overconfident. She disobeyed Mark's command. She was ashamed to have so negatively impacted the dynamic of their team. She now realized that working together meant that she had to respect Mark's skills just as much as Mark had to respect hers. It would have to be a mutual recognition, a tacit acknowledgement of each other's expertise.

Because they were a team now, Lyn and Mark. Lyn had been toying with the idea even before the skirmish ended. The stars were aligning, the timing was perfect. Now, she had tasted battle. Now, she had a friend who could help her with a different skillset and experience. Now was the time to move on.

Of course, it would depend on Mark's acceptance. Lyn watched Mark cross the field and sat down, attending her injury with a vulnerary. Mark crouched next to her and examined the wound.

"Are... you ok?" he asked slowly.

"It's just a scratch..." she responded dismissively, still panting hard from the battle.

"You should have list-"

"Yeah, I already know that!" Lyn cut off Mark quickly, feeling her pride damaged. She regretted this immediately, remembering that she still had to get Mark to agree to her proposition. Mark wisely let her recover her pride through silence, which was pervaded only by Lyn's heavy breathing. A few minutes passed and neither of them said a word. Lyn felt her anger dry out, and tried to mend things with him.

"Mark..." she began tentatively, breaking the silence. Mark looked up into her emerald eyes, which were a deep picture of sincerity.

"Yes?"

"You were amazing..." she smiled warmly at him and his head turned so sharply she could have sworn she heard his neck crack.

***

The next morning, Mark woke to find Lyn already out of bed and dressed. Realizing that Mark had sat up, she sat next to the makeshift bed she had made for him last night.

"Hey, are you awake?"

"I am now." Mark responded, rubbing his eyes.

"Listen... I... have a request of you. A favor of sorts..." She began, and started fidgeting with her hands. Mark said nothing, so she continued. "I can see your... experience and talent in the ways of war. Would you... let me travel with you?"

Unknown to Lyn, the question elated Mark on the inside. That Lyn was the first one ever to trust him enough to let him give commands had crossed his mind several times during the last battle. His big break had finally come, and he could start making a name for himself. Gaining experience was always a Catch-22 situation for young tacticians; employers always demanded that you have it, but the only way to get it was to get out there. Mark and Lyn had already shown some good chemistry as a team on the battlefield, and while not everything went smoothly, it would be a shame to end their partnership so soon.

Lyn noticed Mark in a deep train of thought, and furthered explained her reasoning. "I... I want to get stronger, and I was hoping with you at my side, I can do that. I don't want to sit here all alone. Will you give it thought?"

He just shook his head and smiled. "I don't even have to think about it. It would by my honor, Lyn," he said and marveled at how his answer had lit up her spirits. She was beaming from ear to ear.

"Thank you, Mark! I.. don't know what to say! Just know that I'm eternally grateful! I'll... I'll go get ready!" she said giddily. Standing up, she started gathering things from the hut that she may need. Mark stood up too, fingering his trusty satchel bag. Inside was everything he owned in the world: a notebook and pencil, two days rations, his short dagger, and his Tactician's Stone.

"So, Lyn... shouldn't you tell your parents what you're doing?" Mark asked casually. Lyn froze, and he could almost feel the air get colder around him. He immediately regretted asking such an obvious question; an eighteen year old living all alone on the plains? It wasn't hard to decipher. Slowly, she began to answer, but he could tell it still hurt her on the inside.

"Mark... my parents... are dead... I'm the last of the Lorca..." She said with shaky resolve. However, as she continued her explanation, that resolve grew in strength. "They were killed by bandits six months ago. It was... it was awful. They poisoned the water supply, and when most of the tribe became ill, they... they slaughtered them! The survivors were scattered, my father the chieftain was dead. And yet, nobody wanted to follow me. They are all to old fashioned to follow a woman. " At this last statement, Lyn forced her eyes shut to keep from crying. "You see? I must become stronger! I will avenge my tribe and family! I will show them all!" Lyn now had her eyes fixed on Mark, a fierce determination fixed in them. Mark just nodded, recognizing that they both had much to gain from their partnership.

"Right. We'll help eachother then."

To Be Continued...

"Synergy" means that together, the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. And that's what I want to focus on in this story, more on the teamwork of Mark and Lyn and how their relationship grows from it. Mark and Lyn are both independent characters with their own motivations, and they'll find that even though their instincts tell them that cooperation might not serve their ambitions best, both of their ultimate goals are best attained by helping eachother. I don't want this to turn into a retelling of the Fire Emblem script, so I'll be skipping around scenes. As for an update schedule, hopefully you can expect another chapter once a week.

Again, please review! And no flaming! If you think it sucks, tell me why!