So, our party has set up camp for the umpteenth time. What to do, what to do...Sadly, Magvel is running a little low on s'mores and beanie-weanies, so our heros turn to the age old entertainment of horror stories.

Split into four parts of three chapters apiece (That means twelve chapters total for the arithmetic-impaired), the following fan fiction is an experiment in trauma, comfort, and relationships.

The parts are, in order: I-JoshuaNatasha, II-GerikTethys, III-SethEirika and IV-ColmNeimi.

For the only time in the entire tale, I do not own Fire Emblem.

Enjoy, darlings!

Part I, Chapter One: Ocean's Fire.

How she was coaxed out of the tent was an interesting little story. Come Hell or high water, the devoted cleric absolutely would not leave her patients (even though they were only Ross with a sprained wrist and Franz who had the beginnings of a cold) to join in the fun. So, while L'Arachel promised to Latona and the Divine Light itself that she, the all-magnificent jewel of Rausten, would care for the boys, Seth and Joshua managed to pin her between them and guide the blonde woman to the fire where the assembled party awaited. And oh, how Natasha fretted over the wounded and glanced to the tent every five minutes.

Joshua knew how to calm her down, however. As the food-a beefy stew-was passed around, he quietly followed the healer while she insisted on pouring everybody's food; helping her hold bowls and all the while chatting with her about one incident or another. Like Natasha normally did when she was around the red-haired swordsman, she smiled a little wider and relaxed somewhat. She even only protested once when he offered her his coat. Their bowls-the last two to be filled-still remained, and discreetly the woman slipped more turnips into his dish before dropping stew into her own. Joshua sighed at this, wondering if she ever missed a chance to care for anybody. He had only told her turnips were his favorite vegetable last week. She took little notice of the shake of his head, and slowly chewed a bit of potato as Garcia stood.

"Ahem. Well, it's another evening by the fire, and I think we need some entertainment." Varied parties voiced their agreement, and after they stopped the axeman continued. "So...Who's up for ghost stories?" The roar of approval was intense, and Joshua noticed in the middle of his wine-cup salute that even the gentle Natasha raised her hand in agreement. Order was decided quickly, with the tales beginning with Eirika and moving to her left, with no pressure on anybody to tell a story if they didn't want to.

The princess told the classic tale of the Frelian phantom that every villager hears by the time they're weaned, not wanting to frighten anybody just yet. Her general was next, but Seth passed and let Lute go. In the mage's usual fashion, a perfect hero with the name of Nute destroyed an entire hoard of entombed, and halfway through this Forde mentioned the odd similarities between her and the hero, causing a scuffle. After Seth had the two by their collars he nodded to Natasha.

Joshua was sure that the woman would pass. He swallowed the wine in his throat and got ready to stand, but the cleric smoothed out his coat and rose, taking a few steps closer to the fire. "This is a story that I was told awhile ago...please stop me if you become scared." The Jehannan raised an eyebrow and picked his goblet back up. Natasha inhaled and began.

"As you know, Grado has a very large coastline. I grew up...well, for eleven years anyway, beside the sea in a moderately sized village. The ocean is a beautiful, life-giving thing, I assure you, but it can also be very, very deadly." She slid the dark coat off and held it with one hand briefly before waving it over the flames, causing a tidal wave of smoke to rush towards the back of the camp. Setting the garment onto the ground, she continued. "Every human being in contact with the waters fears the sea-god's wrath."

Thus, for all of her knowledge of what salve went of which bruise, the cleric turned out to be a superb story teller. With a casual air in every sentence, she spoke of the fearsome ruler of the ocean tides and pulled the army into her village; forcing them to watch the blue waters with concern as the local priests forgot to make an offering to calm the god. Natasha's hands that were so at home bandaging cuts were expressive as well as her eyes, and with a shift of her body she lowered her gaze to the gravel. "And then, He came. In all of His ferocity, He found the local priest and drug him back to His watery lair. The priest cried out to his people, but under the sea-god's spell they only turned their backs to him as he disappeared into the foamy waves. Soon the god sent the priest down into the deep, cold waters...and, struggling for breath, the man let his head loll back only to see sharks nearby."

"The beasts circled once before diving in for the kill, wrenching off limbs and severing arteries, turning the water a smoky red as the priest screamed and prayed for forgiveness...but he had angered a power that was greater than himself. And so, the people in my village still serve Him, the sea-ruler, to this day, for fear of what will happen to them." Amidst the applause and whistles, Joshua noticed the bits of moisture fringing her eyelashes, and he knew.

That story wasn't about some priest and a god.

It was about the Demon King and her mentor.

Turning his face to meet hers, the beautiful cleric stared over his shoulder as the orange flames lit her hood and hair with a heavenly glow. She exhaled softly and walked away from the fire, murmuring that she had to get back to her patients, and he too rose and followed fifteen feet or so behind. "Teacher, why did-" Saleh sighed and told Ewan to stop poking into personal affairs before smiling apologetically to the Renais princess and standing. Oh, they would fear the rock beast of his home in the mountains.

While the outskirts of the camp were a dense forest, Joshua had enough training and enough of a bead on the woman's white clothes to safely follow her about fifty horse strides into the brush, pausing when she slumped against a towering ash tree. He slid closer as he heard the thump of her sitting on the ground, and a few seconds after she heaved a great sigh the gambling man spoke. "I didn't know you had patients in the forest," Joshua smirked, moving beside her and sitting also.

"...Joshua..." Garnet eyes shifted to meet downcast blue ones. "I thought you'd understand it...I knew I shouldn't have gone." Natasha put her forehead on her hand and grimaced.

The myrmidon shifted his feet. "Everything is a game of chance. Your choice was to tell that story, and mine was to follow you instead of scaring the piss out of the whole army. So, I'd eat my hat if you can't guess why I chose what I did." She smiled softly and clutched at the fabric of her hood.

"Because you think I need a friendly ear. Thank you, but-" Joshua spun to face her, taking her pale hand into his calloused pair and pushing his hat back up with a toss of his head. Natasha blinked, stunned, and swallowed nervously.

"Natasha. Please, tell me what's going on with you." He squeezed her cool hand between his palms and continues to bore into her sapphire irises with his deep red gaze. "You can't help everybody without helping yourself, too. Let me help you."

For her, it was the last piece of the puzzle, and with a whimper Natasha barreled herself into the man's strong arms and cried for the first time in years. She cried for her mentor, her country, and the pained man in front of her. Natasha didn't think to shed even the smallest tear for herself, she had never been one to do such, but that was alright.

Joshua shed a few for her.

End Part I, Chapter One.

So, next up is Part I, Chapter Two. Review if you'd like, and expect an update sometime this week.