Title: Cover of War
Fandoms: Super Smash Brothers
Characters/Pairings: Ike/Marth, Marth/Roy, Wolt/Roy
Rating: PG13
Warnings/Spoilers: OOC
Summary: War always brings out the worst in people.
Notes: Reuploaded. The smash stories are circa 2008, I think.
Roy Pherae had not abandoned Altea, Marth persisted. Ever since the Melee tournament, Marth had made sure that Roy's loyalty to him and his country was unquestionable. Roy's loyalty was the same Marth had for his sister, he would jump in a vat of lava to save Elice, and Roy would undoubtly to the same.
But here they were, sitting in the conference room. Wolt, Master Archer, and every secretary of war, with every general that Marth ever had for Altea sat in the conference room. Roy wasn't here. War was the topic here, and without Roy, Altea was sure to fall. The King bit his lip, not knowing Roy's location or even the reason for his disappointing departure.
The king had tried to push the war conferences as far back as he could, telling his people that Roy was just away on a temporary peace conference with a nearby country. The people bought it, but after a short period, the people had believed that the High General had abandoned them. Marth felt his heart break, he trusted Roy more than anyone else.
"Roy Pherae," Marth whispered, "Where the hell are you? This is your job…not mine, not anymore." He slammed his fist on the table, and felt the wooden legs of the ancient table shake.
Wolt finally spoke up; the king had invited him to stay here because he knew Roy better than anyone. "I'll go find him," he volunteered, standing up, "He's been my childhood, and no one knows where he could go better than me."
With a reluctant nod, the king agreed, hoping that Wolt would bring back Roy safely.
"See that he's flogged," Marth replied with a grin, "Wolt?"
"Yes, your majesty?" Wolt asked.
"Find him, and let him know he's not off the hook, not yet." Marth had a crooked smile on his face, one that assured made Wolt smile in reply.
Matching the King's grin, Wolt nodded, "Oh, Don't worry, your majesty. I intend to."
Watching Wolt's now disappearing figure, Marth prayed silently to himself that Roy was alive, wherever he was. He rose from his table, and brushed off some of the dust, then strolled towards conference room to start the first conference in months. Taking his sapphire embedded chair at the end of the table, Marth nodded his head, "Let's start."
Elice watched her brother exit the conference hall. He looked exhausted, and she sighed. Walking over, she grabbed his hand and offered him to eat with her for Lunch. He agreed, knowing that he needed to spend time with his sister, because such opportunities were too rare for his liking.
The navy haired mercenary turned general twirled his orange tinted sword. He stared at his men packing portions in boxes, something wasn't right in the air. He didn't give it much thought as he continued chewing on his chicken leg. Something was wrong though, and Marth had to know. So Ike stretched and waved to his men, then began the long walk into the halls of the castle, mouth never leaving his chicken.
He caught the prince in the gardens, talking with his sister. The King had asked the general to join them, and Ike happily agreed. Elice dismissed herself, she didn't enjoy men chattering about war and women. Even though she knew that her brother would never say anything wrong, it was better to leave him alone.
"Your majesty." Ike bowed. Being in the charge of half the army gave Ike no permission to saunter into the king's audience unannounced. Ike had not been taught etiquette and the manners of royalty, but he knew Marth's basic lessons had helped.
"Yes, of course." Marth nodded toward the big, muscular general. Ike was extremely talented, being less than twenty years and achieving general position. He was second to only Roy Pherae, High General, who was even younger.
Ike stared at the king, Marth was barely seventeen, and already in charge of a country constantly threatened by war. Marth had tried to keep the fragile peace, but sometimes everything was too serious and out of hand to be controlled. Ike turned away, remembering that it was rude to stare. "Your majesty, you appear rather unsettled, is something the matter?"
Marth looked away, "Yes, well it's probably nothing to worry about." He sighed, "and how many times have I told you I'm just Marth? After all that time on the frontlines, and after all the battles you've fought with me, I think that gives you permission to be on a first name basis?"
To Marth's surprise, the general had the king pinned to the pagoda beam in the center of the little tiny pagoda in the garden. Ike's hand tilted Marth's chin, forcing direct eye contact between the both of them.
Marth opened his mouth to protest, but only found Ike's warm lips on his own frozen pair. A sudden flush of red washed upon the king's cheeks. He wanted to pull away, but the way they were positioned made it hard to even move.
"Hush, don't make a sound." Ike whispered, his lips moving down the king's cold, alabaster like skin.
Roy had thought he was dreaming when he saw Wolt amidst his captors. He thought he was hallucinating because he hadn't had water or food in almost three days…was it though? He couldn't remember. Roy could almost see Wolt's grin and the arrows that were sent his way.
"WOLT! WATCH OUT!" Roy shouted, his voice was hoarse, and his hands were gripping tightly on the bars.
"SHUT UP AND CONSERVE YOUR VOICE, CARDINAL!" He heard the archer shout back. He heard the whooshing sound of an arrow and the appearance of a grin. The cage snapped open, and Roy grabbed whatever he could use as a weapon, and charged in.
He wasn't bad at fist fighting; he did get into many of them as a child. With speed and power, Roy charged into the fray, smacking people on the head and in the stomach. He held up his shackles just in time to have them slashed through by a man with a sharp weapon. A breath of relief, and Roy jumped on to the horse.
Wolt offered the High General his sword, and Roy accepted it. With a grin on his face, and settling his hands on the sword that belonged to only him, Roy charged into battle once more. Piercing the heart of a man who got too close, Roy smirked as the man burn to death, "Who's next?" He called, even making a little taunting gesture with his hand.
Roy was the best swordsman Wolt knew. His skills were a unique mix of brute force and trickery, of course, with a bit of his own skill mixed in. It puzzled Wolt how such a skilled swordsman could lose his bearings and get captured by men who probably didn't even have a weapon that was sharp enough. As they sat on the horse, trotting towards a random direction, Wolt asked his question, "How did you manage to get captured anyway?"
Roy drew in a sharp intake of breath, and continued tracing the marks on his sword scabbard. "I was out for a walk in the front gardens, and somehow I walked on to the streets. I thought it would be one of those short walks for inspiration, and not patrol, so I didn't bring my sword. I felt pain in the back of my neck, and then I woke up in that cage…" He shuddered, the memory scaring him.
"Wait…!" Roy suddenly gasped, looking around the forestry, "This isn't the way to Altea!" Roy tugged on Wolt's tunic, "Wolt, where are we going?"
Wolt smiled, "Home, sweet home. Castle Pherae in Lycia."
A few months had passed since the end of the war and Roy's disappearance. It bothered Marth that he never did find out the reason for both, but was just glad that the war had ended without many casualties. He wasn't sure why it had started or ended, but knew the war started because of a certain boy sold into slavery.
He never found Wolt, either.
Even though he was scared, something in him assured the king that everything would work itself out in the end. Roy was okay, even though he didn't know that for a fact, and Wolt was with him, wherever they were.
Ike grabbed the king's hand, brushing his warmth on to the icy surface. Marth felt himself blush as Ike's lips were placed against his. He gladly kissed back, knowing that Ike was there when Roy wasn't, and although Roy could never be replaced, it was a change that Marth took for the better.
But he couldn't help but think of all the changes under the cover of war, and laugh to himself, because war always brought the worse in people.
End.