Alright! After a fortnight of being stuck, here it is: My Peerless Warrior! My first FE fic! Now I've written for three different categories!
Dev: I'm the tactician. I got named after the author…yippee… (waves small flag in the air unenthusiastically.)
Pardon? (evil grin)
Dev: ¬.¬ …Nothing. (Waves flag like Red Bull addict) Sagewolf doesn't own Fire Emblem; Nintendo and Intelligent Systems do. She doesn't own Red Bull either. She doesn't even own a cart, after she left it in Carrick like an–
Er…yeah. I'll find a new one, but I blame any OOC-ness or inaccuracies on my utter lack of reference materials. I don't think anyone is out of character… I hope.
In case you can't tell, or to avoid confusion, this story is set just after Ninian dies (begins just before, ends after). It's a major part of the plot, so it kind of had to be set then (setting it then was a bit of inspiration I drew from one of Leons-shadow7's fics. I have no idea how. Thank-you Leons-shadow7.).
And there is noromance of anysort in here, other than the obvious, and trivial, Eliwood/Ninian, Sain/All-The-Girls-In-The-Camp, and a bit of Fiora/Kent that just ended up there for the purposes of humor somehow. None are terribly important to the story. And despite the joke Fiora ends up starting, There Is No Slash. Yes, the story is about Dev and Lyn, but it's friendship (albeit very deep and strong), nothing more. Some of the people who are on the site have strange ideas, seeing romance in every gesture, and you know who you are, making me write this little rant. I'm actually not too sure of how good this is, but read and decide for yourself. You probably have a better chance of telling than me.
My Peerless Warrior
Icy green and white, with claws the size of their torsos and blood-red eyes the size of round shields, the dragon towered above the small party that had emerged from the cave where Durandal had slept. Eliwood held the sword in his hands, next to Hector and Lyn. Dev was behind them, crouched next to Nils. He had fallen unconscious, and she was ready to defend him…although what she could do against that thing, she didn't know…
Durandal began to glow in Eliwood's hand and he stared at it, forgetting to watch the dragon, which, strangely, seemed content to stare at them. It growled or roared occasionally, but still, weren't dragons supposed to be more…intimidating and, in particular, fierce? Dev didn't actually remember being threatened by any dragons before in her life, but she didn't recall any stories in which they stood and stared at the human heroes while occasionally growling or scratching their ears.
…Then again, who said this dragon was definitely evil? Athos had mentioned the peaceful city of Acadia, where dragons and humans lived together, peacefully, in friendship. Could this be one of those dragons? Was it offering aid? Delivering a warning, perhaps, or a message? Hawkeye would certainly know…or…
Eliwood lifted Durandal, although it looked almost as if the sword was the wielder, moving Eliwood like a marionette. The ancient blade flashed in the sunlight, a beacon of hope…or of death, depending on how you looked at it, really. Back during the Scouring, when the races fought, to the humans, it must have been a clarion call, a sign of hope. To the dragons…the light leading to the afterlife, a terrible, fearful thing. Yes, the dragon was flinching in front of the blade, swaying from side to side. It almost looked as if it was shaking its head. Eliwood slashed at one powerful leg with the blade. Blood spurted from the wound and the dragon reared up, roaring in pain. Its tail lashed, uprooting trees and cutting a wide swathe of destruction, opening an ugly brown wound in the green-covered earth, now soaked with the crimson blood pouring from the dragon's leg. Eliwood held the sword ready, waiting for the beast's forelegs to move so he could have a clear strike at the underbelly and armpits, the areas unprotected by scales.
Green and red…Green scales and red eyes... She looked down at Nils, suddenly certain, and admitted it to herself: what she hadn't wanted to think was true. She looked back up at Eliwood, poised to strike the dragon down. She licked dry lips with a drier tongue, tried to moisten her mouth to call out, as an iron hand suddenly grasped at her heart and cold fear made her legs limp and useless. She couldn't let him…
"Ninian… Eliwood! No! Don't! Don't hurt the dragon!" Either he didn't hear her, was unable to stop, or was not willing to listen. He leapt, Durandal flashing in has hands, slicing through the dragon's scales once. Once was all it took. The dragon roared in pain and rage before toppling to the ground, blood pouring from its heart. It still growled softly, weakly, but its eyes were dimming, the bloodflow becoming sluggish and calm. It wouldn't last long; she'd seen enough mortal wounds to know that was one. Please, let me be wrong…please let the dragon live… She prayed silently, gripping Nils's form more tightly. She wasn't sure who she was praying to…Elimine had been one of the heroes who'd banished the dragons.
Hector was staring at Eliwood in dumbstruck silence. Eliwood, Durandal still in his hands, was staring at the sword as he wiped it off on the grass with slow, uncertain movements. Lyn looked over at Dev, who was bent over Nils, fighting to keep back tears. She went over to her friend.
"Dev, what's wrong? We're alright, see! It's gone, we're safe!" She smiled at her friend, then lost the grin as Dev shook her head. "What–?"
"Eliwood, how in Elimine's name did you do that?" Hector managed to interrupt everything that was going on at once very effectively by yelling.
"Hector. He must always do something…," Lyn murmured, looking over at her friend. Dev was still holding Nils, easing him into a sitting position, trying not to wake him. Unshed tears glistened in her eyes; she blinked them back angrily and concentrated on Nils. Lyn frowned. "Are you worried about Nils? He'll be fine. We just need to get Serra to…no?" Dev shook her head and whispered under her breath, over and over:
"Please let me be wrong, please let me be wrong, please let me be wrong, please–" Lyn overhead, shook her head, and looked over at Hector, gesturing to Dev and shaking her head. Hector gestured her over silently, then turned his attention back to the dragon.
"That was amazing wasn't it?" he asked, loud enough to be heard by Dev twenty feet away. Eliwood was just as loud.
"It was. It was as if…as if the sword struck it down itself, guiding my arm." There was reverence in his voice.
"Why was it here, anyway? Did Nergal send it?" Hector asked, answered by Eliwood.
"We're too late then…I hope Ninian's alright. Who knows what he did to her to get her to obey him…" All three lords cringed as Nergal, materializing from the shadows, began to laugh. There was no joy in his laughter, only derision. Dev glared at him as he showed himself, gripping Nils' body more securely, even as the hope she'd held began to wane.
"I did nothing to your friend," he told them, still laughing. "You are the one who has just killed her." Dev stiffened and quickly began dragging Nils over to the others for protection; Eliwood stared at the dragon in disbelief, saw it swiftly glow and begin to reform; Hector and Lyn traded glances.
"What, you cast a spell on the dragon, linking it to Ninian…or…something?" Hector was not much of an expert when it came to magic. He had never seen the use for it. Nergal sneered at the lord's ignorance and shook his head.
"Nothing like that. As I said…I did nothing to your little friend." He began to laugh again. Hector frowned at Lyn and Dev.
"What in the names of Elimine and Roland is he talking about?" he asked. Dev sighed and lay Nils back on the ground, struggling to keep back tears, although her countenance was full of anger.
"…What he means…is that the dragon…Ninian is the dragon. She and Nils are dragons that came through the gate, that's why they can open the gate…that's why he wants them." She swallowed, and gasped, closing her eyes and wiping them sharply as Hector looked behind them and nearly dropped his axe. "I'm sorry…I should've been…should've been faster…" She looked behind her, almost glad she couldn't see clearly.
Eliwood and Ninian were speaking. Ninian was human again, and they could see the full extent of the injuries she'd suffered. Her thin, silken dress was soaked in blood, her hair was gummed and matted with it. Her crimson eyes, still as full of kindness and concern as ever, were dimming. Eliwood held her up with one arm, held her hand with the other. As ever, she was more worried about the others than about herself. She looked around, saw Dev kneeling beside Nils.
"Ninian…" Dev whispered. "Ninian, I'm sorry…I should've realized…" Ninian shook her head, moved one hand feebly.
"My brother…Nils…"
"We…we won't let anything…Won't let anything happen to him. I swear," Dev replied. "He's our friend. We wouldn't abandon him." Ninian smiled and nodded, and said one last, private thing to Eliwood.
Then she was gone.
The camp, that night, despite having about forty people in it, was extremely subdued. Eliwood and Nils were both grieving, Nils keeping away from the main camp, Eliwood berating himself over and over again. Everyone in the camp was upset as well, to one degree or another. Ninian had been kind, caring, understanding. She had lent her power in battle, putting herself in danger from those she was running from; a few of the soldiers would have been dead without her restorative power. She had been well-liked in the camp, even if she had been a little strange. Dev had told the members of their ragtag army what had happened, how Ninian had died, while Nils sheltered with Lyn and Hector, in case the soldiers had taken it into their heads to attack him.
They hadn't. Pent, Louise, Hawkeye and Erk had been among the first to offer him their condolences; many others had followed. Even Raven (albeit poked along by Priscilla) had found some words of comfort in him. Jaffar had said nothing, but had laid his hand on Nils' shoulder reassuringly. Nils had accepted their gestures in grateful, tearful silence. Everyone seemed to understand, and that night, Ninian's grave looked like a garden, so many had laid flowers there.
After the funeral, the army retired to tents, fires, or the first watch during the night. Lyn sat with the other nobles; Eliwood, Hector, Pent and Louise. Eliwood wasn't a very good fireside companion that night, though, and Hector was busy comforting his friend. Pent and Louise were never good company in the evening. They were too interested in each other. Bored, she got up and went around the camp, checking on the individual fighters in it.
The entire camp was in poor spirits. The magic-users' fire was a normal color and size; they were not playing with it, as usual. The mercenaries and axefighters were not sparring, Wil, Rebecca and Rath were not using some unfortunate tree for target practice. Wallace hadn't scared everyone out of a year of life with one of his abrupt, booming laughs yet. Matthew had his own possessions in his bags, and no-one else's. Sain was sitting at the same fire as Isadora and wasn't trying to convince her of his undying love. Lyn shook her head sadly–this was far from a typical night in camp–and went back to their own fire. Hector saw her sit down; he was the only one there now.
"Where are the others?" Lyn asked him, sitting down. Hector shrugged.
"Eliwood went to bed. Pent and Louise, I don't know. Might be torturing their students. I think they went to bed, too, though." Lyn ladled a portion of stew into her bowl and sat with it in her lap, more to warm her hands and lap than anything else. Hector watched her for a while, as if trying to read her thoughts.
"It's more peaceful tonight, isn't it?" he asked.
"I would prefer the chaos, if you would believe me," Lyn retorted. Hector nodded.
"I know how you feel. …One thing hasn't changed, though." He pointed to a lonely fire, on the edge of the camp, near a small one-man tent. "Those two are still keeping each other company." Lyn looked up, saw the fire's sole occupant; a small, huddled figure in a worn brown-green cloak. Lyn had mixed feelings about that. On one hand, she could guess who was in the tent, and she was glad someone was watching over Nils. But they didn't seem safe so far from camp, and they should have been with their friends. Being alone wasn't good for anyone after a shock like today's.
"I'm going to go talk to her." Lyn rose from the fire again. "Or bring her some food, at least." Hector nodded, his own mouth full.
"You know," he told her, swallowing, "she's just going to do as she likes, no matter what you say. You know her." Lyn knew. She still had to go over.
Dev didn't notice as she came over until Lyn was right beside her. She acknowledged her friend with a mumbled, "Hey, Lyn" and returned to staring at the fire silently. Lyn offered her the bowl of stew; Dev looked at it as if she'd never seen stew before, then something seemed to return to her expression and she accepted it with a quiet word of thanks. Lyn sat down next to her.
"Good evening, Dev. Would you like to come sit with Hector and me? We could use some company, and it's safer in a group." Dev smiled faintly and shook her head.
"No, it's alright…I'm watching out for Nils. He wanted to be by himself." She gestured to the tent, and returned to staring at the fire, taking a few mouthfuls of stew.
"No-one in camp would hurt him. That's obvious, after today, I would think."
"I know, but he wants to be alone. And what if Nergal came back? Came after him? I can't leave him on his own, unguarded."
"What would you do against him?" Lyn asked her. "On your own? You'd be dead before you knew it." There was no response, and Lyn pushed on. "What if we came and sat here? Hector and I would be glad to help protect Nils… No?" Dev shook her head, forcing another smile for Lyn. Lyn winced. It was very fake. She'd never seen Dev fake a smile before. It was worrying.
"Lyn…thanks, but I just want to be on my own for now. Okay? Don't worry about me. I'm fine." She looked back at the fire, and Lyn watched her for a moment. She sounded alright, but there had been a haunted, fearful look in her eyes. Masked, but undeniably there. Noticing Lyn was still there, she added, "I appreciate it, Lyn, really, but–"
"…I understand. See you tomorrow, Dev. Goodnight." The tactician nodded, but other than that, she didn't move. Lyn looked back a couple of times before she rejoined Hector. He saw the look on her face, shook his head, and threw more wood on the fire.
"I hate to say 'I told ya so', Lyn, but–" Lyn nodded.
"I know. At least she took the stew. I'm worried about her, Hector." Hector raised an eyebrow.
"Why? What's wrong with her? Other than grief?"
She's not just upset. She isn't… She is…Her mind is somewhere else." Hector sighed loudly.
"Great. Our tactician is out of it." He stirred up the fire some more and fingered the haft of his Wolf Beil. Lyn saw and shook her head.
"Nothing's going to happen tonight, Hector. The camp's big enough to deter bandits, and the Black Fang have returned to Valor."
"This area's not that remote. And a camp this big will draw bandits–nasty, stupid, mountain bandits–like moths to a flame. They'll be hoping for merchants or lost travelers. They don't know it's an army. We are going to be attacked, I'd stake my armor on it." He lay down next to the fire. "I am going to sleep. Wake me up when an archer tries to shoot me."
"We could do without your pessimism," Lyn chided. "Such thinking invites disaster."
Disaster, as it happened, found it hard to refuse the invitation.
An arrow zipped overhead, piercing the tent wall, startling Nils and Dev into frantic action. Nils jumped out of the tent, staring around like a startled deer as Dev peered around her, her gaze suddenly sharper than it had been. "Nils, come on, we have to get beck to camp!" she yelled, dragging him along as she ran towards the dying fires in the distance. Matthew and Legault were returning from the watch–it was the middle of the night, then–saying that their attackers were no Fang. Bandits, desperate and determined, were closing in on them, expecting a merchant party. Merlinus was squealing all over the place as Hector and Lyn listened to the thieves. Dev arrived with Nils, Nils looking extremely distant from the events around him.
"Bandits. What kind of troops?" she asked, ushering Nils into Merlinus' tent and waving Marcus, Vaida and Hawkeye over, pointing at the screaming merchant. The three warriors took him back to his tent and guarded it. Matthew and Legault answered, each filling in gaps in the other's knowledge. There were a lot of axemen, a lot of swordsmen, a few wyvern, with mages and shamans interspersed throughout. They had not spotted archers, but they had spotted arrows, and Matthew had seen the light of a staff; either clerics or a talented mage. Dev frowned and asked for positions of said troops, then called over the members of their own army. The archers went to the thieves and Jaffar; mages to the three pegasus knights. With them went Dorcas, Bartre and Dart; the pegasus knights had recently mastered swords, so that left the three groups ready for anything that came up. Lowen and Isadora went with Wil and Rebecca to take down wyvern. Lyn, Eliwood, Hector and Canas were one side–group, Kent, Sain, Heath and Erk were another group. Nino, Rath, Raven, and Guy were the rear guard; Priscilla and Serra had their usual job: running around trying to heal everyone who got hurt. Everyone else was to protect the camp, Lucius acting as a healer there.
Each group ran off as it received its orders, and the forest began to light up with light and fire spells. She hoped Erk and Nino knew what they were doing with those. Battle and death cries rang out from every direction. Dev took down her hood and ran into the forest, checking on everyone. Raven's sword broke; Guy had a spare. Nino accidentally set a bush on fire; Heath's mount Hyperion saw and put it out, screeching angrily at the fool mage–human. Rath mistook Erk for an enemy mage and luckily only hit his shoulder. Still, it was a delay for Serra, and from the look on Erk's face, he would rather have died. Eliwood and Hector fought bandits side by side, Lyn protected Canas until he was knocked out and ferried off by Priscilla. All in all, it was going very well. She eventually found a perch in a tree and watched from there, yelling out orders from the leaves and branches. She kept an eye on all the fighters she could see, searching the darkness almost frantically for those she couldn't.
The bandits were routed after an hour and a half; a long time to spend on bandits, but they had all dealt with longer battles. Most of the troops (with the exceptions of Canas, Erk and Rath when Erk was done with him) were not badly harmed and perfectly happy with the battle. Dev shook her head–she'd been distracted all night–and went to check on the still-returning troops once more, to reassure herself that they were all there and unhurt. Finding Erk and Rath, she was dragged into their argument.
"He shot me again!" Erk was telling her in what passed for loud with him, as Rath crossed his arms.
"I mistook you for the enemy. I apologize."
"It is the fifth time! You need to stop mistaking me for the enemy, or I am going to die at the hands of my own ally!" Erk was understandably upset, whether from the injury or from being forced to listen to Serra for a full five minutes, and Dev, nursing a growing feeling of unease, told Erk that Rath had apologized, told Rath to be more careful, and informed Erk that if he didn't want to be shot, he shouldn't be wearing the same color as the enemy magic-users. Erk looked down at his muddy, worn, frayed, torn, blood-and-foodstained, dirty red cloak–a cloak that by all rights had needed a replacement when Dev had met him a year ago in Bern–and frowned. He liked his cloak, he complained. He'd learned to use magic in it and it was special. Besides, how many enemy mages had purple hair and shot fire at their own side? The argument began anew and Dev shook her head, gave up on them, and went off to find Eliwood, Hector and Lyn, the last group she was to check on. She was beginning to be worried about them; she hadn't seen them yet. She found the first two arguing. If it was something as stupid as 'change your cloak once in a while' she was going to–
"How could you not see him? He was three feet in front of you! …Eliwood, are you listening? Eliwood!" Eliwood was staring at the air in front of him as Hector bound and cleaned a wound on his friend's shoulder. It had joined ones on his head, torso, legs and arms. He was a mess. Hector waved his hand so close to Eliwood's eyes that he risked taking Eliwood's nose off, and flicked his friend on the ear. Eliwood came back to reality with a start and stared at Hector as if he'd never seen him before. Hector shook his head. "Get back on Elibe, Eliwood."
Dev went up to them and looked at the wound on Eliwood's arm. It was deep, and ugly, but not particularly nasty or dangerous. Eliwood didn't seem to think so, either. She sighed and shook her head. "What's wrong with you, Eliwood?" she asked, not really expecting an answer. To her surprise, and consternation, he broke down on the spot.
"Every one of them…It's her I see. Her face…her voice…she…" He began to cry and Dev stared at him in surprise. "She's dead…It's my fault! I can't believe I…I killed her…" Hector looked over at Dev, his face sorrowful. Dev grimaced, feeling guilt gnaw at her insides…and worse than guilt, doubt. It hadn't been his fault…but had it been hers?"
"Eliwood, it wasn't your fault. You didn't know she was the dragon…you couldn't have." But she had. She simply hadn't been fast enough. …She'd failed them both, Eliwood and Ninian. Hector led his friend back to his tent, supporting the redhead, comforting him. He laid him back in the tent, on his bed, and came back out to Dev.
"He's a wreck," Hector said. "It'll get better, though. He just needs time." Dev nodded.
"It's sad… He started this quest to find his father, and he's lost so much… Hector, do you know where Lyn is? I'm checking up on everyone." Hector shook his head.
"Nope. Eliwood had to duck out early, and I came with him. We left Lyn there with Canas." He saw Dev's expression change quickly from calm to fear and horror and asked, "What is it?"
"Canas was knocked unconscious. He was taken off the field…Priscilla took him…" She lifted her hood up over her head and ran off into the forest.
Dev looked around her, frantic, barely aware of where she was. She yelled out Lyn's name over and over, barely avoiding trees, wild animals, rocks and ravines. She paid no attention to such minor details as the path, or the obscuring darkness, rushing onward, calling for her lost friend, refusing to think of what may have happened, how she might finally find her. This continued for quite a while, Her only rest coming when she could no longer run, the only silence coming when she could no longer find the breath to speak or shout. She did not intend to stop until she found Lyn, but the matter was decided for her when, finally, she tripped and fell into a ravine, hitting her head on a fallen tree limb. The shock to her senses forced her to look at her situation logically, something she was mildly appalled she hadn't done in the first place. She locked the heat of her emotion in her heart where it belonged, returning the control of her thoughts and decisions to her logic.
Lyn was alone in the woods; possibly hurt, most likely hidden. Possibly dead…a possibility she would not waste time dwelling on. She was lost and alone herself, but she did not want to return to camp without her. However, there was the chance Lyn had already returned to camp. Going back to camp reduced the number of people lost and vulnerable in the woods by one, at least, but being lost presented a major obstacle to returning there.
…No matter what she decided to do, though, it was neither the time nor the place to be yelling or running around like a cleric confronted with a vision of hell. There might still be bandits. She had to be quiet, covert, but above all, quick. If Lyn was hurt, there was no time to be dithering around, and if she were attacked in the woods, she would be helpless; she had never learned to use any weapon beyond a dagger and a wooden staff, and she had only the dagger. …She would continue to search for Lyn, but if, by chance, she came upon the road or camp, she would not plunge back into the woods. Remaining out here served no purpose. Her wits about her once more, the fear that had gripped her heart and guts confined there, she ran off into the night again, as silent as a shadow.
She checked every hollow she saw, peering in and whispering "Lyn?" Each one proved the wrong one, but she persevered. She found neither Lyn nor the road, and as the sky in the east began to lighten, she sat down in an alcove formed from a large, dirt-encrusted tree root and rested for a moment. She didn't even know if she was going in circles or not… Didn't know where she was, didn't know how to get back to camp. She rested her face in her hands as the fear returned, accompanied by guilt, overwhelming the defenses her mind put up. She'd just caused more trouble by doing this. What had she been thinking? Nobody needed her to go missing. She should've sent Matthew, Legault, Jaffar, Sain, Kent… She should not have come out here. She'd only let them down…failed them again. She buried her face in the fabric of her cloak and sat there, lost track of time, remaining there as the dawn broke over the horizon.
"Dev? Dev, are you here?" Lyn walked through the forest, having given up on the path long ago. She sighed. Her friend was out here, and it was because of her; it was her Dev had been looking for. She hoped to find her friend desperately, but her mind turned often to the bandits in the area, and there were times she feared to find her. Sending a heartfelt prayer to Elimine, the sixth one that night, to let her friend be safe, just hidden, she hacked her way through the underbrush. The Mani Katti glowed softly in her hand as she chopped through the underbrush, either because it sensed her disquiet, or because it objected to being used like a common garden axe. Eventually, she found a small clearing, and stopped to rest, sick with worry. Not for herself; she could handle most of anything that might show up, and her trail back to the camp was abominably easy to follow. Every time she closed her eyes, though, she saw the source of the fear rankling in her stomach: a vision of her friend attacked and killed by bandits.
"Dev, please, please be alright," she whispered, expecting no response. To her surprise, she received one.
"Lyn?" A head poked itself out of a mini-cave created by a large and convoluted root, and Lyn stood up, a grin on her face. "Lyn!" Dev shot out of the tiny hollow and flung herself at Lyn, tripping on a smaller root. Lyn caught her as she stumbled, and picked a bunch of dead needles out of the tactician's hair. She cut an undignified figure; covered in mud and dirt, her cloak filthy and torn in two places, and pine needles sticking out of hair and clothes…she was foolish-looking, to say the least. Lyn didn't care; her friend could have showed up in anything from royal finery to a jester's outfit and Lyn would not have cared. Dev threw herself at Lyn gratefully, wrapping her arms around the Sacaen tightly, as if making sure she was real, and Lyn returned the embrace, clutching her friend tightly enough to restrict her breathing, welcoming the strength of the arms around her, because it meant her friend still had strength, was not hurt or injured or–thank all the gods–dying.
"Dev! I can't believe…I found you…Are you alright?" Lyn asked, letting go and gripping Dev's shoulders. "Are you hurt?" Dev shook her head, letting go as well and looking at Lyn with obvious relief and gratitude.
"How'd you find me?" Lyn smiled, relief flooding through her as the fear-fuelled adrenalin drained from her body.
"Hector told me you had run into the forest, looking for me. I was checking on Nils, and Sain and Kent wanted to speak with me. I didn't mean to worry you. I obviously did, and I'm sorry…" Dev shook her head vigorously and detached herself from Lyn.
"No, Lyn…I'm sorry. This is my fault. I shouldn't have come running in here. I should have known better…now all I've done is get myself lost, forced you to come looking for me, caused more trouble. That's the last thing we need now, is more trouble. I've cost us all time–" Lyn embraced her friend, cutting off her words.
"No amount of saved time is worth losing you, Dev. You know that. We would have looked until dragons filled the skies."
"You don't know when to give up, then," Dev retorted, her voice sharp, biting. She pulled away from Lyn and stood alone on the path. "You should have kept going." Lyn stared at her in stunned silence. Dev had never spoken to anyone like that, not even when Raven had openly challenged her orders and nearly gotten four people killed. She had been quiet, and extremely angry, but, then, her voice had remained calm, warm, it had even stayed affable, after the worst of the altercation was over (and Priscilla–taking Erk–and Lucius had threatened to leave with him if she'd thrown him out). Now it was sharp and edged, with a frigidity Lyn had never thought to hear in Dev's voice. And Lyn had no idea what had brought it on.
"Dev–" The tactician shook her head angrily, crossed her arms, and turned around on the path.
"No! You know how important this campaign is. One day can make the difference. If you had spent that day searching for me, would it be worth it?" She still exuded a chill that might have come from an Ilian mountaintop. Lyn could not see her face, but she could imagine the look of anger, the piercing gaze, and she met it with her own determination and trust.
"Yes, because without you, we have no hope against Nergal." Her voice was quiet, but forceful and sure, full of the confidence she had in her friend. Lyn saw Dev's hands fall to her sides, slowly, as her friend half-turned, changed her mind, and eventually her arms rose again, slowly, as her head bowed slightly. Dev's reply was a while in coming, and so quiet that Lyn strained to hear her, couldn't, and had to ask her to repeat it.
"Do you really believe that?" Unlike Lyn's, Dev's voice was a whisper, quiet, even diffident, as if she didn't really want to hear the answer. Lyn stared at her in disbelief, just short of openly gaping. What had brought this on? A knock to the head?
Hector had once called Dev, fondly, a 'cocky little chit.' He'd been soundly reprimanded by Lyn and Eliwood, and half the camp, to the point of being sent to the healer's tent, despite the obvious goodwill with which he'd said it, but they secretly agreed with him and he knew it. She was, if not quite cocky, unshakably sure of herself. Whenever asked by anyone how she knew something, she replied, quickly, assertively, half-playfully and wholly in earnest, 'I just do. What, you thought I wouldn't?' She teased Matthew about knowing more secrets about the individual fighters than he did (although she'd never tell those secrets, she loved to dangle it over Matthew's head that she was a better 'spy' than he was) and her reply to every query of Erk's on how she managed to keep every fighter's strengths, weaknesses, preferred weapons, phobias, friendships, more-than-just-friendships and secret vendettas in her mind was that she was a genius; it was as simple as the fifth circle as spells (which Erk had not yet mastered and had been working on this past year). She was confident not only in herself but in her troops, which gave them confidence in themselves beyond that they had been able to find before. To hear her express doubt, especially through the tone of her voice, harder to lie with than words…
Lyn checked to see if the stars were falling from the sky, or if the apocalypse had come, or for any other symptom of the universe unraveling. It was not, as far as she could tell. She went over to Dev, putting a hand on her shoulder. Her friend was huddled there, her arms not crossed against her chest but hugging her body, inside her cloak, as if to keep her warm. Her head was bowed, her ever-unkempt hair, made only messier by her time in the forest, falling into her eyes. Lyn put an arm around her friend's shoulders at the sight of her face; her expression was almost haunted; fear and insecurity written in her eyes. Dev stiffened at the touch, then sagged against Lyn's body and rested her head against Lyn's arm. Lyn looked up at a rustle in the undergrowth, saw sunlight glint off armor, a mage's red cloak. She said nothing. If it was enemies, she would destroy them in an instant. If her friend hadn't noticed, she truly was out of it.
"Yes. We all do. I'll even go beyond that, and say that if it weren't for you, I never would have met my grandfather. …I never would have left Sacae. I wouldn't have had the strength or the courage. You give people courage, strength, belief in themselves, because they see the courage, strength and faith you have. When morale is low, you bolster the others' spirits with your own, unflagging spirit. When the fighters feel unsure, they see your confidence in them, and it restores their own. When conditions are bad, and they think there's no hope, your own flame of hope rekindles theirs. That is what I mean, when I say that, without you, we don't stand a chance."
Dev looked up at Lyn, close to tears, and not yet convinced. "You're wrong. I know the proud people of Sacae tell no lies, so I appreciate the praise…but you're wrong, Lyn. That's not me. If I seem to do that…then I'm only reflecting the spirits they once had back at them. …I–I failed today, Lyn. I failed Eliwood and Ninian."
"No, you didn't. I heard you call out, but it was just too late… It was amazing that you realised that Ninian was the dragon at all, and if you think you should have been faster–"
Dev shook her head. "I had it figured out for…for a while. Ever since we were in the Nabata Desert, and met Athos… I had an idea of what they really were." She sighed. "I…I didn't want to admit to myself that they could have been…"
"Many would say that not trusting dragons and humans around each other is a wise choice."
"And not trusting your friends, your comrades? I failed them then, too. But that isn't what's bothering me." She swallowed before going on, blinking a couple of times. "I wasn't just too slow, Lyn, I was blinded by my own desires, and that's something I shouldn't be, not in battle. Not when it could mean someone's life. I didn't want to believe Nils and Ninian were dragons, so I was too slow in letting myself admit it, and maybe…that's why Ninian's dead. Another time…I could be too slow in seeing something else…or I could lose sight of what's around me again…" She buried her face in Lyn's shoulder.
"What? What would happen?" Lyn asked, feeling as if she didn't have to look far to see the answer. "You are afraid of being the self-decided cause of more deaths. …Or of the death of someone in particular." Dev nodded miserably. "Hector's?" Best to eliminate all the possibilities.
"…I'm not…excluding him quite entirely…" Lyn raised an eyebrow in a request for clarification. "Hector let me know when I eventually earned his trust, and I was honored to have done so, and we are friends, so…yes, I fear his death. Not him especially, though."
"Eliwood? He's the leader, the one you're supposed to be following and deferring to," Lyn went on. Another shake of the brown-haired head.
"No, although again, I'm not saying I wouldn't care. I don't fear failing him, Lyn. I already have. His father and Ninian…Besides…Eliwood and I aren't that close. We are friends, but I would be able to continue without him." She trailed off, left the sentiment unsaid. Lyn didn't press it. She also didn't ask any more questions. She knew who Dev was talking about, and she was not wasting time going through everyone from Bartre through to Wallace.
"It's me, isn't it." A statement. Dev buried her face deeper in the plainswoman's shoulder, and Lyn considered that answer enough. "Why am I different?"
"Lyn…you… You were the first person who ever really had faith in me, the first person who cared about me. You were the first person who asked me my opinion on anything, instead of just saying, 'Go There and do That.' You were the first person I met…who had faith in themselves, in their own abilities." She removed her head from Lyn's shoulder, making her words a lot easier to understand. Indeed, that may have been the reason she did it. "If I look like I have any strength or confidence…I draw it from you. I don't want to find out I don't deserve your trust. And…I don't want to find out… Lyn, I don't think I could go on without you there." She smiled slightly. "What you said was true. I see your confidence in me, and it convinces me to have confidence myself. If that was gone… Lyn, I–"
"You haven't considered the confidence of the other forty people in the camp?" Dev whipped her head around, startled, until her gaze came to rest on a brown-haired thief. Lyn smiled. She hadn't thought it was enemies. Had her path been that obvious? "You always have that, you know."
"Matthew?" Dev asked incredulously.
"Never mind our friendship–"
"Wil…" Lyn could hear the amazement in her voice. So she could be shocked. This day was becoming a lesson for the army in how human their tactician was, it seemed.
"Loyalty–"
"Heath…from you that's…" Lyn saw her reach up and wipe something out of her eye. No doubt it was just dust, of course.
"More like devotion, actually–"
"Erk." Dev was starting to smile. Lyn smiled at the mage (just like him to go one better), archer, wyvern rider and thief in thanks, and too late realized her knights were beginning to speak.
"Eternal and unmatched adoration for such…Ow!"
"Sain! Our deep gratitude." Dev laughed slightly, weakly. Good sign. Very good sign. Sain managed to look as if that had been his plan all along. Or maybe he was just woozy from Kent's gauntlet-to-the-head.
"Our trust. My trust." Dev looked up at Hector. "Don't think you've lost that." He grinned reassuringly at her.
She smiled back weakly. "I haven't forgotten, Hector…"
Eliwood stepped up and gripped her shoulders. "Our worries. I could not lose you and Ninian, not in one day." He pulled her into an embrace. "No matter what you think, we need you. Not solely for your advice. For the part of you which is uniquely you." He let go, and Dev seemed no less shaken than she had been, but far more steady all the same. Braced, supported.
Farina and Florina kicked their sister, attracting Dev's attention. She looked at them quizzically. Fiora quickly tried to look earnest and sincere.
"Above all, you have our affection, and even our love," Fiora told her, sounding slightly grudging. Dev laughed again at the look on her face.
"…Did you all rehearse this or something?" Fiora shook her head.
"Of course we didn't," she replied, doing her best to look indignant, and undoubtedly about to insist it was completely spontaneous, before their resident elder-not-dark-magic-user butted in.
"Not enough time," Canas, ever factual, told her. Fiora glared at him. "We did plan it, though. Except for Sain's bit. Fiora had to say that part, the love part, because coming from a man, it had unwanted connotations."
"And it doesn't coming from a girl?" Dev asked him. Lyn smiled. Same old Dev back, if a little weak and hesitant just now.
"Thank you. Thanks to him, now I look lesbian." Fiora was mad. "I will have you know that I–" Kent took his attention away from Sain and began making a 'kill' gesture frantically.
"What's wrong with being lesbian?" Everyone turned to look at Serra, (including a very relieved-looking Kent) trying to figure out whether or not to answer, and if 'yes', how to do so.
"Plenty of things! Beautiful and radiant maidens should be drawn to the glory and courage of a brave knight, and–uh…" Sain's gaze was drawn slowly to the three pegasus knights, Vaida, and Isadora. Brave knights all five of them, and female to boot. He blinked, defeated by his own logic, and fell silent, a rare occurrence. Kent was still recovering, which most likely saved his-Sain's-head.
There was another silence, and Serra asked again: "Well, what? Why can't someone be lesbian?" She seemed mad.
Eventually, Erk's dry voice broke the silence. "You? I'll have to go into negative numbers to tell you, now–" Pent set his pupil's hood on fire, distracting him very effectively, and Heath added in an aside to Dev:
"You see what we get if we interact with each other? Lord Eliwood is right; we need you around to convince us we're not just a pack of loonies, that we're actually good for something."
"There goes that profound moment," Matthew said, as if referring to a bout of sunshine, with a wistful look and a slight sigh. Hector nodded, more enthusiastic about it.
"Good. They make me feel all formal. I hate formal, profound things." Lyn shook her head.
"Can we go back to camp now?" asked Rebecca. "No offence, Dev, but I'm hungry."
"My stew!" Lowen cried, and led the charge back to camp. Which consisted of him, and only him. Dev shook her head at his back, but made no attempt to move. Neither did Lyn. Eliwood and Hector both gripped Dev's shoulder reassuringly as they passed, shepherding forty people out of the clearing. (no easy task.) Eventually, Lyn and Dev were the last ones there. The others had seemed to understand that they needed time to be alone, i.e. alone-without-an-entire-army-encampment-spying-on-them. That kind of alone.
"I'm still not sure I deserved that," Dev said quietly, no longer tearful. Despite her words, there was a faint smile on her lips. Lyn ruffled her friend's hair, an action that never had any discernible effect to it.
"Faith and belief aren't about deserving it. They're about taking what you get from others, and doing your best to live up to it, every day. And, even if you never hit the mark they set, you've succeeded, because you've shown that you respect their gift, that it is important to you, that they don't give it in vain." She paused. "…Do you remember what I said to you, that first day that we met?"
"That I had a funny name." One corner of Dev's mouth quirked up in a shadow of her usual grin. Lyn sighed. There went that profound moment. At least the first one wouldn't be lonely.
"No! I told you that together, we would be unstoppable; I your matchless warrior, and you my master strategist."
"…Peerless. You would be my peerless warrior," Dev corrected, almost silently. "I remember."
Lyn grinned widely. "Just making sure you did. I told you that because when I did, I already had faith in you. I saw your spirit, your courage, your loyalty that day. I knew I could depend on you. I still know I can. I still have that faith in you." Dev smiled and turned to face Lyn, clasped one of Lyn's hands in one of her own, her smile growing wider, her voice growing stronger.
"And I have faith in you, Lyn. Faith enough to trust that when you put faith in me, it's for a good reason…and that I can be worthy of it. What's more, I promise you that I will be." She paused. "…But…"
"Hmmm?"
"…Every now and then, can I lean on you, my strong sword arm? When I need to?" She looked faintly sheepish, and Lyn pulled her in to a tight embrace, trying to dispel her doubts. She heard her friend laugh. She hugged the Sacaen back, although whether in gratitude or simply for the feel of someone there, Lyn didn't know. They let go, and began walking back down the path. Dev caught her friend's gaze, gratitude in her eyes.
"I was here today, wasn't I?" Lyn asked her quietly. "I don't expect you to be perfect, my master strategist. Just inhumanly good."
Both her voice and smile quiet, Dev replied. "Thank you, Lyn. After all, I need my peerless warrior by my side."
Well, that wasn't bad, if I say so myself.
Elliott: …As you will, and strangely, I would dub this as 'not-half-bad' too. Was it meant to be that long?
It's only fifteen pages-according-to-Word and seven thousand-ish...and a half... words long, not counting A/N… Well, no, it wasn't meant, but I can explain…
Elliott: No you can't, but that's alright. I'm just the muse. As always, reviews are welcome.
Push the button and tell me what you think! Too long? Too short? (Doubtful…) Too… heavy, light, boring, interesting, etc.? (Too interesting? WTF?) I want to know, and I want to see plenty of reviews, or at least more than I've been getting, cause the FE section is just a little more alive than the GS one, as far as updates go, anyway. I'll really appreciate any and all reviews, because I'm actually not too sure at all of how good this is.