Hello all! This is my first story, so please be kind! But constructive critiscism is also appreciated. This series in question is a series of oneshots on FE8, but they all stand alone from eachother. I hope you enjoy my retelling of Magvel!

Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem.

.:Sacred Moments:.

Partners

Sunlight flashed off of Marisa's silver Shamshir as she lithely sidestepped Joshua's lunge, leaning in for one of her own. She was quite the sight; a whirling dervish with her hair flying about her slim figure, attacking relentlessly with a strength that belied her frame.

The heir to Jehanna's throne smirked as he deftly brought up his own Killing Edge to meet the blow, sending off sparks to disappear into the wind. One hand was locked behind his back, occasionally reaching up to protect his hat from the force of movement and the fierce gale.

"There!" With a quick maneuver, Joshua slid the light blade up to her clenched fingers and disarmed her, taking care to reign in his strength as to not cut her valuable hand.

"Ah…" the quiet cry escaped Marisa's mouth as she stumbled back a little. Joshua smiled triumphantly and leaned to catch the falling Shamshir by its handle, cockily twirling it around for good measure.

"Whew... Looks like I won this time." He gave a breathless laugh.

"... I made a mistake," came the slightly-surprised and disappointed reply.

Joshua ducked to see her face, veiled by her wind-tussled hair and saw a look of dissatisfaction there, before she swiftly turned her back.

Unthwarted, the prince slid over to the Swordmaster's side and smiled at her. "No, you're just having a bad day. And it's not like I had a decisive victory this time. I'd say we're still just about even." He was awarded with a small smile.

She finally turned to face him. "All that matters is that I didn't win. You won the bet. What do you want me to do?"

"So you remembered!" Joshua laughed again, pleased.

"I want you to be my partner for a while... How's that sound?" He waited to see if it caught her interest.

She at least looked curious. "What? Your partner?"

In all honesty, when the myrmidon met the fellow sword dancer, three months ago now, her mysterious and withdrawn nature combined with her invaluable skill piqued his interest. And now, through their practice duels and continuing (albeit awkward) conversations, Marisa had to admit that he was a good ally. And he, had succeeded in drawing her out of her shell.

Was it just him, or did she look scornful as she questioned him? "Don't get the wrong idea. I just meant for training. And gambling," Joshua quickly recovered, sighing inside.

That wasn't so… a stirring of hope rose in her when his initial words fell from his lips…A breathless sound escaped before Marisa struggled to speak.

"So, nothing would change..." She cursed at how oddly flat her voice sounded.

He shrugged. "I'm very comfortable with our fighting arrangements. You make a good partner to spar against."

The words rose to her throat –"that's not what I meant"- but suddenly they died when she saw a figure in the corner of her eye, clean and clad in white. Marisa nodded instead, rendered wordless.

Suddenly, she couldn't bear to watch the next events – Sister Natasha, that kind, beautiful, graceful woman! – worry over Joshua, her first friend since her time as a mercenary under Gerik. Maria swiftly turned on her heel and brushed past the approaching cleric, giving a small nod but not smiling or meeting her eyes. She didn't wait to hear the words of greeting traded. She didn't see Joshua's eyes linger on her retreating figure…

.:O:.

For days after, Marisa avoided the prince, without even knowing why. She just didn't want to see him.

Whenever he entered a room, he would just see the blur of her figure, darting out of his eyesight and reach. Initially, he was confused. But when a week past by without having a chance to talk to her, Joshua became downright resigned. Others at the fortress they were camping at noticed an increased irritability within him, and shockingly, a decline in gambling activity. He was often seen picking a fight with other hired myrmidons until Prince Ephraim suggested that he stop lest their swordsman forces run away…

Marisa sat alone in a clearing at the forest, giving herself time to think. The sunlight steamed down lazily in ribbons of dust and lit on her bowed head. Her eyes, stared down at the calloused hands in her lap, were burning.

Why did she have to fall for people so unlikely, so incompatible to her personality and lifestyle? Opposites attract, ha. She always felt so awkward, wanting to be near them, unable to say anything. Shy, unsociable, awkward fool she was. Gerik…

Marisa knew all hope was lost when she retreated to a medical tent during battle, to hear a familiar giggle and a rough but quiet laugh. When exiting the tent, she glanced back and saw her beloved Chief in the shadows, and sociable Tethys leaning up for a kiss. Marisa was unable to tear her eyes away, stepping back, before she forced herself to return to battle. They didn't even notice, though their words and shared laughter followed her back.

Marisa fought terribly that day, receiving costly wounds one after another. Her focus kept on slipping as she struggled to step in the slippery grass and fend for herself.

Then Joshua stepped in front of her and deflected a blow that would have surely pierced her shoulder.

She looked up in surprise at the man she saw only at camp, but never talked to.

"Get to head quarters," he yelled behind as he forced off a larger axeman. "I'll take it from here." He gave a quick, cocky but reassuring smile, and Marisa flushed at the surprise of his warmth. She slowly retreated, glancing after him.

That night, the attack force returned to camp and Marisa anxiously waited in the medical tent to thank the stranger. When she saw him, she rose from her seat…but he was already striding to one of the clerics, a fair woman with golden hair. Marisa stood uncomfortably, wondering if the healing would be disturbed if she were to approach him. But they were talking…

"Don't be so humble. You deserve the praise," Joshua was saying.

The cleric flushed. "If...if you say so."

"Well, I do. So keep it up," came the answer.

"I'll do what I can." She gave a pure smile before sweeping away to see another patient.

Marisa wondered what that was all about when she saw him watching the cleric and say to himself, "...Nice smile." The man smirked himself and stood to go, passing by Marisa. Their eyes met, but he moved on and exited the tent.

At the next battle, the myrmidon approached her.

"Hey, I hear you're good with a sword...I'm Joshua."

He didn't remember her.

Marisa's mind dropped to the present when a bird alighted noisily from a tree. She sighed and considered returning to camp, but for now, she was too tired...

That, she recalled, was the first time they had a conversation. Then their regular practice duels began, though there was a momentary lull when he mourned his mother – and the army discovered he was the heir and prince of Jehanna! – but nothing changed. Joshua begged Marisa to drop his royal title and fight like they always had, and Marisa was too happy to say anything. The she realized that her love for Gerik had flown and that the promoted Swordsmaster had taken his place. But now…

"It's no use." Marisa said out loud. "All I can do is fight…" And isn't that what my father wanted?

Her life, even after his death, was still his, anyways.

.:O:.

"Hey, don't go running off!" Joshua called after Natasha. He sighed. "I wasn't even joking..."

But he cursed anyways, for blurting out that stupid bet – "You're gonna fall for me, sooner or later" – and making Natasha uncomfortable.

Joshua headed back to the fortress. He needed to find Marisa for a fight to clear his head – the whole week had gone wrong, with the Swordsmaster avoiding him and he so dependent on their duels for stress relief. He felt a headache building, and seeing Marisa nowhere in sight, searched for Gerik instead.

He found the mercenary polishing a steel blade with utter concentration when he burst into the Armory.

"Hello, Gerik." Joshua sat down.

"Hey, Joshua. If you're looking for money from me, I've gambled it all into your pocket."

"Not today. I'm looking for Marisa; have you seen her?"

Gerik looked up sharply. "Is she avoiding you too?"

Joshua gave a sheepish smile. "Yeah. I don't know if it's something I said. Is she not talking to anyone? I figured you'd be the last person she would avoid."

The mercenary leader shifted uncomfortably. "I saw her talking to Tana the other day, so no….but I believe she feels no pleasure how our 'family' is changing, with Tethys 'n me –"

Joshua grinned, forgetting why he came in the first place. "You proposed to her?"

The usually composed man flushed. "Yeah. We're gonna travel after the war, for a place she could dance at and where I can train young folks to fight."

The two continued along on this train of conversation until dinner time, when Gerik departed to wash up while Joshua walked whistling straight to the campfire. The sun was setting over the crumbling fortress and the prince was a lot cheerier when he arrived. A small party had already gathered in front of the campfire, including the royal twins of Renais, L'Arachel, the knights of Renais and Rausten, and Natasha.

He sat down and nodded at L'Arachel, who held up a small bag of gold with a knowing smile. Then he glanced at Natasha, wanting to catch her eye and signify that he wanted to apologize – but her head was turned as she was speaking with General Seth. Joshua simply watched the firelight flicker off her golden hair with a small smile on his face – until he realized that everyone was listening to rapt attention to the pair's quiet conversation, and trying to seem as if they weren't.

"…When this war is over, would you...come live with me?" the Silver Knight was saying to the White Spirit.

Joshua's eyes widened. General Seth – and Natasha –

"Oh!" Natasha exclaimed with tears in her eyes. "But, Seth... I'm a cleric. I'm sworn never to..."

"I know you're a cleric," Seth amended quickly. "You've given your life over to a divine calling. But would the Everlasting not smile upon the love shared by its creations?" He took her hand.

Joshua's heart dropped as he realized that Natasha was smiling now. "Seth, I- Yes, I believe so."

"I vow upon the sacred oaths you have sworn that I will make you happy!" Joshua unconsciously clenched the cloth at his knees and stared ahead.

"Seth... I hope you keep that promise. I'll wait for you until this war is finally at an end."

Natasha was crying with joy by now as she spoke, rising to her feet as Seth bid her. He rose to one knee.

"I will keep my promise, Natasha. I will." And before everyone's eyes, the paladin took out a thin silver ring that gleamed white in the firelight and slid it onto Natasha's left hand ring finger."

Everyone at the campfire and the newcomers who had joined quietly – with the exception of Joshua and the newly engaged couple – burst into cheers and applause. The cleric flushed and wiped away her tears with the side of her hand, the ring glimmering there. The other hand unconsciously reached to hold Seth's who took it and smiled proudly.

The prince of Jehanna silently left the campfire.

.:O:.

Marisa glanced at the darkening forest and hurriedly rose. She reached the outskirts of the glade and headed toward the campfire when Joshua stormed past her. To her utter surprise, the prince looked as if he were in agonizing pain. Others – normal people, would say that's a look of heartbreak, Marisa, she thought coolly to herself. But she turned on her heel and followed him swiftly to his tent where she watched him throw himself on the pallet.

Her concern overrode her temporary embitterment towards him, and she entered the marquee to sit by the bed. "What's wrong?" she asked.

He ignored her, thoughts furiously running through his head.

"Oh... This isn't the time for jokes... I-I just don't know." Natasha had said that just earlier today, in response to his bet. Why hadn't he noticed? Natasha and Seth. The General and the woman Joshua considered giving his heart to. Considered. But it still hurt. Joshua pummeled the bed with his fist, forgetting Marisa's presence.

"I will keep my promise, Natasha. I will." The blasted fool he was, of course Natasha would give her love to a man who was both brave and reliable, and Joshua was only one of those things. Though, ruthless was the word described for it, and that was tied in with foolishness. For the months Joshua had known Natasha, what picture did he paint for her? A gambler, a flirt who complimented shamelessly – wouldn't Natasha take that as a non-serious interest in their relationship? Why didn't he see it? Why – why why –

"Fight me." Marisa's voice cut through his thoughts like a cool blade. She tired of seeing him wrestle with his emotions, and he had inadvertently ground out his thoughts aloud. So, Natasha was betrothed to General Seth. Still, Marisa bitterly thought, what did he know of heartbreak? This was the first time a woman had refused him, whereas she…

Joshua slowly shifted his face across the pillow and stared at her icy jewel chips of eyes. Twin fires burned there, but her face was unreadable.

"Fight you?" his voice echoed oddly. "Yes, I suppose I – I suppose I should." The prince slowly sat up and reached for the sword he had discarded at the side of his pallet. Marisa stood up abruptly and walked away, stopping only to say in that same cool voice, "We will go to the fortress."

Joshua followed her, forcing every thought from his head. It's over now, he repeated slowly in his head. I have to get out of this…I can't act like this.

They entered the battlement and Marisa led the way to a vast room that used to be a training area for soldiers. Half the ceiling was gone, revealing the now starry night sky framed by the greenery growing up and through the cracks. The weapons mounted on the wall had long rusted but still maintained an aura of former glory. A bright half-moon lit the arena.

Joshua stood as Marisa crossed the room to the other side, over the uneven stone floor with wild grass cracking its surface.

She turned. Then –

A clang echoed through the room as she suddenly covered the ground she crossed in a run, drawing her Shamshir before he even saw anything. It was only pure instinct that forced him to whip out the Killing Edge a half-second before being cleaved in half. She stepped back and attacked again, leaving him no recovery time.

His startled mind immediately focused, forcing out any remaining thoughts of Natasha. He launched into an offensive of his own. He sought to push her to the wall, but she easily evaded him. Still, he was satisfied with her position and feinted at her legs, only to bring his sword sweeping up at her neck. She danced away from his sword – instead of dodging it and hitting her head on the wall, as he had intended.

"That was my father's trick," she said quietly. She pushed off the wall towards him – and past. Joshua turned to see her flipping a shortsword similar to the Shamshir off the wall. She twirled it, turned, and lunged at him with both blades. She landed a shallow cut on his shoulder, but only succeeded in drawing thread from his Swordsmaster robes.

Joshua grimaced as he watched her face warily. She was entirely unreadable – in fact, she was looking not at him, but somewhere about his shoulder. Despite this, he grimly accepted that he was in the disadvantage again. In fact, she was giving him the best fight he ever had. What's motivating her this time? There's no gamble, no challenge, no threat…he wondered.

He saw a flicker of something on her usually impassive face and saw an opening at the same time. He charged with his sword at her and swept up – and in the instant, regretted it. He cursed. Her right hand sword flickered though the air in a shining circle – she dropped her other sword to clutch at her hand – blood slid from her fingers and spattered the gritty stone floor – the airborne sword embedded itself in the stone behind them.

"Marisa! I –"

She slowly slid down her armband and clutched it in her wounded right hand, squeezing tight. And then she stooped to pick up the fallen sword with her left hand.

"You can't possibly fight like that," Joshua shouted with a sinking heart. "Stop this!"

"I can't let it end like this…" she said so quietly he thought he imagined it.

He hurriedly stepped back to avoid her slashes.

"Fight me!" she yelled furiously. He had no choice but to meet her blows. Before he knew it, they were fighting again.

After what seemed to be ages, his stamina had dropped considerably, but she fought on. Her blows seemed to be getting faster, stronger, more calculated. In a last ditch attempt to end the duel – which was seeming more and more to the truth of one – he summoned the last of his strength in a final attack. With a echoing ring, he brought his sword down on hers – and was shocked when she forced him up, and the sword out of his hands. The prince fell backwards and the sword dancer swept the Shamshir's point to his neck.

"I beat you, father," she forced out, breathing heavily. "After all these years…"

"What?" Joshua's eyes followed the tip of her sword at his neck, up her arm, and to her face. Her eyes were unseeing, but her face showed vulnerability he had never seen before.

Suddenly, the moment ended and her eyes cleared.

"Thank you," she said softly. "I have surpassed myself and my father. This fight has given me closure." Her eyes suddenly dropped, but the sword tip remained at his throat.

"Marisa…?" Compassion welled up inside of him as he slowly brushed the sword aside and stood up. He tilted her downcast face to meet his. Her eyes were filled with tears. She looked down again.

"Do you know," she choked out – "Do you know I love you?"

Joshua silently moved closer and held her, letting her rest her wet face against his shoulder and hearing her let her sword fall willingly, for once. "I know now." He murmured into her hair. "Thank you." Suddenly, everything felt absolved, and she reached up with her hands to hold him too.

.:O:.

They were in the medical tent later, alone, as they heard the impromptu celebration for General Seth and Sister Natasha still going on. Joshua slowly wrapped strips of clean linen around Marisa's wounded hand, concern sharing his face with concentration. Marisa watched his steady hands work the cloth around her smaller one.

He spoke up in the comfortable silence. "You know, that practice duel we had a week ago? I never got to finish what I was saying."

Curious, she looked up to see him smiling. "And what were you going to say?"

Joshua continued: "If I train with you, I'm going to become a better swordsman. And if we train together, maybe we'll each learn something."

Marisa settled back with a content smile. "I could ask nothing better."

"But there's something that I want to do soon when the war is over. It's something that can't be done in a single day or overnight. You could probably call this the biggest gamble of my entire life. I'm going to have to hone my skills, and I'll need someone to help me. What do you say, Marisa? Won't you lend me a hand?" He watched her face hopefully, and she tilted her head in thought.

"I'm good for fighting, and not much else," she said honestly.

"You think? I doubt that's true," he said with a half-smile. "I know this is a gamble, but... gambling is my hobby."

"I see that," she joked.

"Well, don't let me down," he fired back.

"I won't," she said confidently. "But try to keep it interesting, all right?"

"Heh. Then I'll do my best to keep you entertained. I'm sure you won't be bored. Besides, how often do you meet someone you can spar with? Not to mention someone who can actually beat you!"

"I won this time though!"

Joshua threw his head back and laughed fully. "That's the spirit, Marisa!"

.:O:.

In a blur of days, Joshua and Marisa found themselves in the Darkling Woods, then at the Black Temple's door. The malevolent aura taxed the army's stamina and morale, but Joshua took immense comfort in Marisa's presence at his side, and as he discovered, her dry wit.

He was studying the sinister stone relief of the temple when he shuddered. "How much do you want to bet there are Draco Zombies in there?" he asked, turning to Marisa.

"Oh, I think they'll be there," she answered indifferently. Then, with a straight face: "But don't worry, I'll protect you, princess." She did smile when he spluttered indignantly.

As such, they did end up fighting Draco Zombies – and he gave a low whistle when she cut the demon down with one strike.

She stayed with him as they cut through legions of fiends and watched the royal twins seal Fortmortiis away forever. She stayed with him as they hurled out of the crumbling temple and burst into the purified light. And when it was time for the army to part ways, he asked her once more to stay with him.

And she said yes.

.:The End:.