Just a little fic for FyeHalfmoon, based off of a song(Executioner no Koi, undoubtably) I discovered by Yanagi Nagi, my current favorite singer. Please enjoy the story.
And of course, disclaimers, Marth and Ike and Fire Emblem are not miiiiiiiiiine. And neither is the song or singer, I'm very sure everyone already knows.
The next day would be another execution. They had told Ike that it was a hated force that had been plaguing the King and his men, caught at last. His job was to make the execution further devastating to the people, eliminating their only hope against the tyrant king, by shooting the victim through the heart with an arrow as he was hanged. And if he did not, the King would be more than happy to go back on his agreement he had had with Ike's late parents and murder their uncannily talented killer son, as he had done to them. Ike was in the king's iron fist whether or not he liked it. And he could not kill the king himself for the king was strong - far beyond Ike's level. It was true. Ike and the King were of the same kind. They both had murder running in their blood, flowing through their veins. However, the King liked having his dirty work done for him by someone else. Therefore he had a need for Ike.
Ike entered the separate underground prison where the king kept the prisoners that he wished Ike to dispose of. He closed the trapdoor behind himself, shutting out the moonlight behind. It was more of a cellar actually, being a large, cold, dark room to which a short flight of stairs led from the fore-mentioned trapdoor. Ike did not need a torch to see in the darkness the room held. He descended the eight steps into the cell. In there was the prisoner, his shackles keeping his hands bound, yet allowing him the freedom of three feet from the wall, where the other end of rope that was tied to his shackles was tucked and sealed into a pocket in the wall, in such a way that he could not untie it if he tried, for there was nothing to untie.
Ike had not expected the prisoner to be what he found. The prisoner was a youth of his own age, if not younger by a year or two. His hair was a dark blue and his figure was a slight, delicate one. No, this had to be a coincidence. It could not be the same person as that noble he'd known and once been in love with all those years ago. Still.. it bothered him, having to kill this victim. He looked so much like that one.
"Stand up," he said to the prisoner. A wrong move. The prisoner gave a frightened half shriek and scrambled backward, pressing himself against the wall. Ike had once again forgotten that he had entered so silently that he was unheard in addition to it being so dark that the prisoner would not see him. For all he knew, Ike could have been a spirit or hallucination that just appeared before his death. Ike sighed. He knew he should not do this. He would regret it. It was a rash split minute decision. "I know what you're thinking. No, I am not a ghost or whatever other ridiculous thing you've thought up in your fright. Come on, stand up. I'm getting you out of here."
The prisoner stared blindly into the direction from where Ike's voice came, trying to discern whether or not it was real. Ike would have to do this the hard way.
He came forth, controlling his footsteps so that they were audible, instead of his usual silent gate. When he was standing in front of the prisoner, he crouched and took hold of the rope, making the victim flinch. He then pulled a dagger from his belt and cut the rope.
"There. Come," Ike said, taking hold of one of his small cold hands. "There isn't much time."
And then Ike lead him out, breaking into a run outside, making for the forest, where they could hide.
»»««»»
Once deep into the forest, Ike stopped running. The prisoner behind him was so out of breath that Ike feared he had a lung problem or the like. Ike turned to face him. They were safe.
"Ike?" the prisoner studied him in the moonlight pouring through the trees overhead. "Ike!" He threw himself at Ike, wrapping his arms around his neck.
Ike's heart gave a leap. "I knew it was you, Marth." He hugged back tightly. He never wanted to let go.
"I missed you," Marth murmured into Ike's neck.
"Where were you all this time?" Ike was stroking Marth's hair.
"I couldn't stay. The King would have killed me."
"Start from the beginning," Ike said, holding him closer. He pressed his lips to Marth's hair.
»»««»»
In the morning Marth was gone. Ike did not know when he had left. He had fallen asleep listening to Marth's tale, which he had a vague sense was what the blue-haired, once-noble boy had intended to happen. Of course. Saying goodbye again would be to painful, for both of them. Ike understood. He would have still liked to say goodbye before never seeing him again.
Back at the castle, the king was angry when he found that Ike had been gone all night. He punished Ike by chaining his legs in place at the site of the execution. "Remember the agreement," he hissed into Ike's ear before leaving. Ike felt cold sweat pricking his face, his back. In his hands had been left a bow and arrows. Their should be no one to execute. He had rescued Marth.
The crowds gathered by late afternoon, and it was time. Ike felt his hands shaking. The victim was brought out, and the King smiled sickeningly. It was Marth. He would have to shoot Marth as he was hanged, before everyone. He wanted to scream. This felt like it was just a punishment for him. Why must fate do this? Why must he kill the only person who he had ever loved? He fitted an arrow into the shaft. The crowd was crying. They knew their hero was about to die.
"Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!"
The chanting of the king's men was unbearable.
The King's face, his wicked smile, was unbearable.
The calm in Marth's eyes was unbearable.
Ike let loose the arrow.
The King gave a strangled shriek of horror, his eyes turning red and boiling. At the last second Ike had aimed upward and shot the rope instead of Marth's heart.
"Run away by yourself!" Ike shouted over the din. Marth's eyes widened, filling with tears. He was looking straight at Ike. He knew what sacrifice had been made for him. "Run!" Ike screamed. Marth turned and melted into the crowd. Ike understood the movement of Marth's lips, his last whispered message. I love you.
»»««»»
The next day was Ike's execution. He was hanged, killed in the way he had refused to kill Marth.
His last thoughts, he wondered where Marth was, and what he was doing. He hoped he was safe.
The end.
I don't know if I should make a sequel. I hope you didn't cry too much(hopefully not at all).
