Author's Ideas: For fe-communitydesign. Yes, this is going to be a thing I do, whether you like it or not. Real question is why you wouldn't like it. Anyways.
The theme was "Umbrella", and I had a bit of a hard time figuring out how to do this, but FE7, here we go. Can we just take a moment to appreciate Sain/Fiora? Or however long it takes you to finish this. Oh, well. Read on.
I also kind of really found it hard to write, so it's shorter. Oh well. I'll make up for it in my FE4 fic. Check it out after a few days.
Disclaimer: You have three guesses as to why this is here… and the first two don't count.
What They Loved Under
"It rains much here, does it not?"
"Why, of course, dear Fiora! Is the rain not lovely? Although, I must say, the rain cannot compare to your beauty."
"Isn't it hard to move around, then? Your mount gets slowed in this weather, does it not?" She ignores his flirtatious words and continues to groom her pegasus.
"Ah, I should have known. Your beautiful eyes capture every moment so perfectly… yes, you are correct! However, it is with love's wonderful wings do I overcome any challenge presented to me."
"That quotation sounds strangely familiar to me," Fiora murmurs under her breath, holding a handful of food up to her pegasus.
It wasn't every day Fiora got to spend a week's time in a grand castle without having to fork over bags of gold. As her sister would say, gold was all she could rely on now that the Campaign of Fire was over. Although, the message didn't seem to get through to a certain green paladin in service of House Caelin, and she found herself pestered by him via letter until she conceded, and flew the long flight to Lycia.
She was greeted by friend and family alike, and found Caelin a very beautiful and entertaining place, she could not lie. Yet, now she sits with Sain in the stables, watching a sunny and bright day turn into a rainy and dreary one.
Raindrops patter against the stable roof, and Fiora frowns as they become more constant, but doesn't do anything until a droplet of water falls in front of her. She jumps up, her frown increasing as she looks up at the leaking roof.
"Oh, when will this rain end?" Fiora sighs. "I simply wish to see Caelin…"
"Then you ought to use this! Go on, I insist," Sain pushes a strange object into her hands. Her hand goes around the hook at the end, and she stares at the blue tarp covering that meets her eyes.
"It is an umbrella," Sain says triumphantly. "It is designed in such a way that you can open the umbrella by pulling the handle. The tarp will cover you, and you can hold the handle."
"Where did you get this?" She asks incredulously.
"Why, it's a new product from Sir Merlinus! Do tell me you have been to his store, lovely Fiora!"
"Near Castle Ostia? I can't say I have," she responds, gently pulling at the handle and opening the tarp covering of the umbrella.
"What!? Well, we must go immediately!"
"I came to visit Caelin, not Ostia, Sir Sain."
"Ah… rejection is as harsh as the ice, biting on my hands…"
"The ice is not that cold."
"Oh, how I forget! Fair Fiora, you hail from Ilia, do you not?"
Fiora looks at him, a slight glare in her eyes, and he laughs jovially.
"I am sure it is a beauteous place where the snow reflects the beautiful sunlight on the faces of wonderful women!"
She narrows her eyes, the harsh look in her irises heightening. "Ilia is not just a place to chase after women," she rebukes woodenly.
"Oh, Dame Fiora! You have no need to be jealous!" Sain grins. She picks up a piece of pegasi food and tosses it at him. "Ah! You wound me!"
"That was my intent," Fiora huffs.
Sain plucks the piece of food out of his hair, laughing. "Oh, dear Fiora, I do believe you've captured my heart!"
"...That was not my intent," she murmurs under her breath. Her pegasus neighs, and Sain's mount whinnies in response.
Sain gives his horse a gentle pat, and reaches up to grab the grooming brush on the wall. Fiora watches him with careful eyes, and they sit in an amiable silence except for the brushing of his horse and the twitching of her pegasus.
He raised his head after what felt like two centuries, and tilted his head.
"Ah, the rain lightens, like the gentle breath of the wind," he mumbles, staring out of the stables.
"Then I shall be going," the Ilian mercenary says, tucking the umbrella against the crook of her arm. She began to walk away.
"Goodbye, then, dear Fiora!" Sain calls aloud, waving his hands.
Fiora slows, and turns to look at Sain. "Thank you for spending time with me today."
"Oh, my beauteous Fiora, our time together was like the-"
She shushes him by opening the umbrella, and turns her back to him. Sain just smiles and watches her walk through the courtyards of Castle Caelin, covered from the rain by a blue umbrella that she never gives back.
~ / . / . / ~
Fiora looks him up and down, a strange look in her eyes. Finally, after what feels like the lifespan of a dragon, she speaks up.
"It snows here, Sir Sain."
"Yes, dear Fiora, I know!"
"Not rain."
"Of course, lovely Fiora!" Still, his goofy smile remains on his face. She can only spare him a sigh before opening the door. His smile broadens, if it was possible, and he slips into her house, his belongings clutched in his hands.
"It's very small here," Fiora murmurs, moving to take a glass vase from its place on a stand so that Sain could set down his things. "I'm sorry about the inconvenience. It might get a little cramped, with you here. It's already bad enough with me here."
"I like it here," Sain announces, his braggadocio gone. She looks at him strangely, and he doesn't meet her gaze for the first time. "I grew up in a small home. I believe small homes are always best. They're more warm… more comforting and homely, don't you think?"
Fiora blinks in shock, and the glass vase in her hands slips from her grasp. Sain starts, letting go of the belongings in his hand and jumping forward to catch the glasswork.
"Be careful, my dear!" He says happily, presenting the vase to her as if he hadn't just detached himself from the personality Fiora knew him for.
"Y-Yes… thank you," she stammers before placing the glass vase down on the dining table.
"By the way, Dame Fiora, would you perhaps happen to have some water? I believe I may have gotten some mud on my hands from the ride over."
"Oh! Yes, um… stay there. I'll uncover it."
She approaches the stone basin in the kitchen, gently rolling aside the stone cover. She runs her hands through the water, shivering at the coldness. "This'll do," she murmurs to herself. "Sir Sain, over here," Fiora calls him over to the kitchen, and steps aside to allow Sain access to the stored water in the stone bowl.
The icy water splashes gently in the basin, and Sain tries not to let the coldness drag the smile off of his face. He wipes his hands on a nearby rag, and Fiora's heart lurches into her throat as she catches Sain's gaze, eyes filled with strange emotions that crawl over her and bring goosebumps to her skin.
"I… I need to take a break. I'll be outside," Fiora says, feeling blindly behind her for the door handle.
"Ah- Wait! Lovely Fiora-"
She gently pushes the door open, staring out at the sky from the wooden porch. Carefully, she closes the door behind her and pushes the umbrella in her hands open, using it to shield herself from the gentle snow that approaches her.
Sain peeks out of the door, tilting his head when he sees Fiora standing on the porch in the snowy weather, an umbrella in her hands. He steps out of the house, closing the door behind him and approaching the bluenette.
"Dame Fiora?"
"...You suit Ilia more than you do Caelin."
"Dame Fiora, are-"
"Come, sit with me."
She crouches to sit on the porch of her little house, and Sain sits next to her. The wind and snow howl and screech but she holds the umbrella tightly in her hand, and he grasps her other fingers, the cold seeping away from something they know is more than friendship or camaraderie.
~ / . / . / ~
She smiles, watching Sain through the window as he sighs, closing the umbrella before pulling his horse to a stop in front of the stable next to their house.
She pushes open the door and steps down the porch towards the stable. The wooden door creaks open, and Sain turns to look at her. He gives her a gentle smile, and steps out of the stall where his horse is standing. It neighs as she steps closer, and Sain shushes it with a gentle pat on the muzzle.
He hands her the umbrella, and she tucks it into the crook of her arm before reaching upwards.
"Dinner is ready," she tells him, taking his helmet. He catches her hand, admiring the ring on her finger before letting her hand go.
"Thank you," he murmurs, slipping inside the house. Fiora blinks in surprise, quickly hooking the helmet on the nail nearby and unsaddling his horse before closing the door on the stable.
Sain is sitting in front of her seat at the table, and doesn't say anything as she hooks the umbrella on the coat rack and hurries into the house, simply making to cut the meat in front of him. Fiora snaps to get his attention, and he looks up.
"I'm going to go get water. Do you want some?"
He shakes his head mutely, and smiles. "Thank you for offering."
He's picking at his food when she returns. She sets the water glass next to her plate and pulls her chair closer to him, asking, "What's wrong?"
He shakes his head, and smiles. "It is nothing you should worry about."
"Sain…"
"Trust me, dear Fiora," he reassures, giving her a gentle kiss.
"Alright…" she mumbles, and goes back to eating her food. Still, the chasm of despair that opened in her mind does not close, and she finds herself in a strange, trance-like state for the rest of the day.
She sighs, running a hand through her hair. The gentle sunlight is slipping away, the breath of warmth in snowy Ilia disappearing.
Sain walks in, and finds her perched on the window seat of their small room. He approaches her, brushing her blue hair from her face. She smiles, and he speaks up.
"I have to go back to Caelin."
Her smile falls from her face.
"They hired me. Kent got caught up in some political mess involving some people who want Caelin to be an independent province again. Lady Lyndis and Lord Hector are still too busy with the birth of their daughter to do something."
"Must… Must you go?" Fiora asks solemnly, tightening her hands against her tunic and turning her head away from him.
"A mercenary's duty, Dame Fiora," he says. He sits next to her, and she feels him rest his head on her shoulder. His hands tighten around hers.
"Yes. You're right," she responds, feeling tears sting her eyes.
"I will be back, lovely Fiora. I promise you this," he whispers, and she just squeezes his hands tighter, because she feels he's making an empty promise to her.
For the rest of her days, she wakes up to an empty bed, a stable for two mounts accompanied by one, the snow swirling around their small house in Ilia, and a missing blue umbrella they loved under.