Characters/Pairings: Emmeryn, Briefly mentioned Chrom, Lissa & Frederick.
Warnings: Angst. Pure angst. and blood. and self pity? idk smth like that. just lots of sad.
Word Count: I'm not even damn sure.
A/N: see, i'm an emmeryn rper on tumblr, right? in fact, i'm the FIRST emmeryn rper on tumblr, I rped her long before anyone else started popping up,(ylisseanruler to be exact.) so, I took a long hiatus and now i'm back. somewhat. anyway, I really wanted to write a beaten up and abused emmeryn for my own sick pleasure and I did. I wanted to do an RP but I thought it'd be better to drabble. so. yeah. short drabble, no plot, pure angst. my thought and views and portrayal of emmeryn.
Timeline: when she's 14 years old, still getting hit with the stones.
blood trickles down my neck, my back, I can feel it all over my shoulders, crusting around my mouth and chin, dripping from my head wound and my shoulder gashes. the pain I feel is unbearable, It's like I can feel my life slowly bleeding out of me, but i'm far too stubborn to give up and be tempted into the blissful embrace of sweet death,
I'm far too stubborn to let that happen, not at this point.
I've fallen, I know, i've been knocked down, pushed down, held down, people pushed me back and pulled me down, they locked me in cages and boxes, getting smaller and smaller until I couldn't take it anymore, they've hurled stones at me, they've hurt me, but..
I forgive them.
They are afraid of me, they are afraid of what I may become if I am allowed to run rampant as my father and my forefathers. they are afraid that the bitemarks I will place upon my kingdom will shatter it's fragile, small resolve and cause the kingdom to fall and crumble under the weight of the bloodlust and childishly chosen reign.
come, tell me, what do my kisses taste like? I try, hard, to be a good ruler for this country. Honestly, I try my hardest. I am rebuilding my kingdom, I am restoring it to it's former glory, though that dream seems unattainable, i've always been a fool, haven't I?
If I stopped dreaming, i'd stop being a fool, and if I stop being a fool mayhap the gods will curse me and place the same bloodlost in me that ran through the veins of my father and his father, mayhap i'll becfome a tyrant and I will destroy Ylisse once and for all.
This cannot happen, I tell myself constantly. Placing the kisses of healing along the country bruises my lips, but, it's a price worth taking to see my country a haven for all. To see weary travelers welcomed with open arms, to see townsfolk helping undividedly.. oh, how my heart aches. Not simply out of longing, but out of pain.
Sighing, and that sigh emerges into a cough, and suddenly Emmeryn cannot stop coughing. There she lay, draped in the light warmth of a blanket, bound in bandages and wraps, deep in haunted sleep.
Ever since she had first been pelted with stones, the stones had increased in size and weight, but fewer were thrown as she proved her worth, however, every stone she felt, would lead to pain and bruises, and these pains and bruises couldn't be treated while she was awake.
She refused to have them treated.
Which leads to the nightmares. While in sleep, her dreams wish her disturbed sleep, they turn into nightmares, twisting her mind in turmoil over her own confidence, with each night terror, her confidence wanes and the line which she walks on grows thinner, each step threatening to throw her overboard and loose all sense of sanity.
She is not that weak.
Emmeryn's horrors which people called nightmares seemed to fade out into static slowly, until a warm light drifted into her sight and flooded her very being, slowly, she heard shouts of a familiar masculine voice, calling her('Sister, dear sister, please wake up! me and Lissa need you..') and a sweet but panicked softer, femininely warm voice('Big sister! don't leave me!'), and a deep, melodious voice that brought such.. such courage to her ears, that gave her the bravery to sleep, and wake up the next morning('My lady, please, wake up! I have sworn to protect you, my duty thus far has not been fulfilled, wake up, my lady!').
Her eyes cracked open, warmth and happiness flooding her heart and chest as her eyes teared, knowing her previous horrific flashback was but fantasy, her eyes opened to three very familiar pairs of concerned eyes, filled with warmth and affection. The familiar blue eyes of those related to her, and the gorgeous brown eyes belonging to the familiar, comforting melodious voice whispering encouragement to her.
Whispering comfort to her.
The words of these three brought her out of her stupor. Blinking two or three times, her eyes cracked open.
They stayed open.
Her lips twitched into a smile..
She let her tears fall over.
This is where she belonged.
This was her encouragement.
This.
Is bravery.