This is my first fic for Fire Emblem. I've played 6, 7, 8, and 10, and the Seth/Eirika relationship in FE8 just captured me. So I wrote a series of short oneshots and put them together, coming up with this. It's a chronicle of their relationship, from start to finish, mostly canon. I tried to get as much in as possible and so, even though this was intended to all be in one-chapter format, it kind of got too long. So I split it up - but try to think of it as a whole.
I hope you enjoy - please give me your thoughts; maybe I'll write more FE fics in the future!
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to be, they belong to Nintendo games. This applies to all chapters to come, as well.
She's young the first time she meets him. Maybe twelve, or just a bit older; a child hovering on the edge between girl and young woman. She sees him as a young knight in full armor, wielding a sword alone in the training yard. Curious, she rises from the sanctuary of her garden, so she can watch him dance gracefully with the blade, already a master of the art. But when she's only yards away from the fence, she trips on a stone sticking out into the path and tumbles head-over-heels in a messy pile of dust and skirts.
The knight turns around just as she looks up, and, distracted, he missteps and drops the sword with an echoing clatter. Eirika giggles, scrambling to her feet and climbing onto the training yard's old wooden fence.
"You did very well until then," she says, smiling.
He picks up his sword and walks over to her, leaning on the other side of the fence. His auburn eyes sparkle with lighthearted amusement. "You think so, Princess Eirika?"
Eirika nodded, delighted. "Mhmm. Yes, sir."
"Seth," the knight says with a smile.
"Eirika, then."
Seth stands straight, sheathes his sword, and lifts her hand from the wooden post, brushing a soft kiss across her fingers. "My pleasure, Eirika."
She giggles again, charmed by the young knight kind enough to smile with a lonely princess.
He hadn't ever expected her, a princess, to learn the fighting arts. Her brother was so excited to have the opportunity to teach her the skills he'd learned of the spear, but no matter how much Eirika practiced, she didn't have Ephraim's natural ease with the weapon. Seth watched as Eirika tried again and again, day after day and week after week, never able to get it quite right.
The sun was sinking into the wooded hills, and still, Eirika was trying, long after Ephraim had retired to his rooms. Her turquoise hair flew in every direction as she moved, twisting and turning, trying and trying. Wind swirled up in a great gust, and, thrown off balance, Eirika dropped the spear to stumble forward and rest against the moss-covered castle wall.
Don't give up now.
She opened her tired eyes and stared off into the distance, leaning heavily against the ancient stone. Her gaze was bright with tears. She was about to give up for good.
She couldn't give up now.
"Try this," Seth said, stepping into her line of sight. He drew his sword and held it out her. The blade caught the evening's angled sunlight, and a flash ran across the sparkling metal like a blacksmith's flame.
"When did you get here?" she said, jumping a little in surprise. When she reached up to rub her eyes, her slender arms shook with exhaustion.
"Try," Seth said again. "The sword is better for some than the spear. Perhaps this is where your aptitude lies."
"It's no good," muttered Eirika angrily. "Ephraim is the fighter, not me. I'm just going to be a perfect little princess for the rest of my life - until I'm married off, and then I will be the perfect little queen, with a perfectly respectable husband, ruling some perfectly successful country, bearing a perfect little son - "
A smile found its way involuntarily onto Seth's gentle features. He hid it with a sigh, and lifted Eirika's sore hands. Wrapping her fingers around the hilt of his blade, he stepped close behind her and covered her small hands with his. He raised both of their arms, holding the sword out.
"This sword may be heavy for you, but give it a try. Like this. This is how you begin." Seth nudged her foot with his, and she scooted it out a little. "Bend your arms and legs. Move like this."
He raised the blade and swung it slowly, bringing down, forward, left, and right, so she could feel the differences in directions. After a moment, Seth let go of her hands and moved away. Eirika stood on her own, strong and steady, her stance smooth and comfortable. A cautious smile broke out across her face, making her vivid eyes light up. The pale light from the vanishing sun made her skin glow, and she slid the blade carefully through the still air.
"I like this," she said at last. "I like this."
Seth smiled as he watched her test the air again, swinging the sword experimentally in every direction. He laughed and shook his head.
She still needed practice, of course. But watching her shining smile and fresh energy, Seth knew that this was something she could succeed at.
Eirika tossed her brush down furiously. Seething, she stormed out of her room, leaving the fancy ribbons and shawls and jewelry untouched on the shining surface of her table. She flew through the palace doors and headed immediately to her tiny refuge, the garden she had discovered when was a child.
It contained only a small stone bench surrounded by green leaves and vines, with the occasional splash of color from a rose or violet. Water trickled quietly into a lily-filled pond. All around there were butterflies and bees, their soft flutters cutting clearly through still air. In winter, the place was bare, but in springtime it was full of movement and mysteries. Eirika liked it anytime. Now, she was grateful for the proud, concealing foliage and the brimming life that was never bound by anything or anyone around it.
She'd always hated fancy events. Dressing up, smiling royally at a bunch of other nobles smiling royally back at her – it was never something that she looked forward to.
"Having trouble, Eirika?"
Whipping around, Eirika saw Seth, the only other person who knew where this garden was, and how much it meant to Renais's princess. He knew that this was where she would go when she wanted to hide away from the world around her.
With a sigh, Eirika turned away from him and glared at the innocent ground. "You've been sent to fetch me, haven't you?"
He gave a little bow and a smile. "I cannot lie to you, my lady," he said seriously. "But I believe – do correct me if I am wrong – that you are not quite prepared for the night's festivities."
Wearing no beautiful, shimmering gown, no shoes or jewels at all, and sporting tangled blue hair flying in every direction, it was fairly obvious that she was a little behind, indeed. Eirika sat stubbornly with her legs crossed on the bench and glowered at the knight standing in front of her.
"I'm fine. What is so special about Ephraim and I turning sixteen? Neither us of wanted a celebration of any sort - "
"But, being a princess, you will receive one anyway," grinned Seth. He sat sideways on the bench. "Turn around."
Eirika did so. "I don't like being a princess sometimes," she muttered. "I don't like not being able to make my own choices, not being able to go wherever I want to go with whomever I chose whenever I like - "
"You have more than you think, you know," said Seth. Gentle hands ran through the tangles in Eirika's hair, smoothing them out with soft concern.
Sighing, Eirika didn't respond. The quiet sounds of the evening and the garden surrounded them, calming and cool. Seth's hands carefully threaded through her hair, slow and gentle, a tender touch she wouldn't have expected from a knight trained for war. He separated her long, unruly hair into three neat pieces and began to braid, twining them together effortlessly. They fell loosely into place without knotting, fraying, or twisting.
"Where did you learn how to braid?" Eirika asked, breaking the still silence.
"I have many secrets," said Seth, a smile in his voice.
Eirika smiled too. Seth tied off the braid and rose to his feet, extending a hand to the princess. She took it, standing up and looking at his warm face.
"You look very presentable now," Seth said quietly.
"Even without the shawls and the jewelry and all?"
Seth nodded. Sighing, Eirika smoothed out the creases in her light dress and ran a hand over her elegantly weaved hair. "Thank you, Seth."
"It was nothing, my lady."
Eirika was too distracted to notice that Seth called her 'Lady', the first time he had done so since they had met so long ago. And for a long time, she was too distracted to realize that he began to call her 'Lady' all the time, too.
The pain shoots through his body over and over again, piercing and sharp with every bump in the road. His mind is numb, conscious of nothing; nothing except Eirika curled close to him, her body warm and strong. So small, but so strong.
I want to leave. I could take her far away, to someplace where we could be together.
Something in his heart changes. Her tiny hands slide under the armor on his chest, gripping his thin shirt to keep herself from falling.
He won't let her fall.
They fly over the path, stones clattering away from the horse's hooves like droplets of water. She's shaking, but it's not from the cold. Tightening his arm around her, he feels her ragged breath tickle across his arm. Her head falls onto his shoulder.
She blinks, eyelashes brushing lightly against Seth's skin. Once, twice. He feels a tear fall silently from her cheek. She's crying.
"Shh," he murmurs into her hair. "Shh."
He wonders what she feels like; why this has to happen. He's a knight, with his life dedicated to serving her and her kingdom. But now is the first time he doesn't want to fight - because it hurts her. Nothing should hurt her. Nothing.
The woman he knows so well. Not his princess, not his queen.
His Eirika.
A cold breeze blows across them, making Eirika shiver involuntarily. Stars glitter in a dark sky, innocent and cold. Distant.
Glancing across the dying fire, Eirika watches as Seth, too, shivers in the sharp cold. The embers and starlight throw part of his face into shadow, but Eirika can still see the pain in his eyes.
"Seth?" she asks softly, coming to his side. Now she can see the blood on his arm, soaking through his shirt like the petals of a flower. She can hear his harsh breathing; feel him tense and hurting. Placing a hand on the wound, she can feel his blood, warm and dark under her fingers.
Seth flinches away from her touch with a grimace. Eirika pulls her hand away, her heart aching with concern and frozen fear.
"Seth," she repeats, her voice far less steady now, even to her own ears. "You must – you must let me treat that wound, you know."
"It's only a scratch. You mustn't worry yourself over me, princess."
"A scratch?" Eirika says fiercely. "Seth, your whole sleeve is covered in blood – you're shaking - "
"It's only the cold," he murmurs through gritted teeth.
"Let me bind your wound, and I will lend you my blanket."
His eyes narrow, and he opens his mouth to protest, but Eirika places her hand over his lips and speaks in a soft, determined tone. "Please, Seth. What good would it do me if you were to die?"
Now his eyes flicker, and then he concedes, the fire in his gaze fading to a dull gleam. With one arm, he pulls off his shirt, a fresh breeze making him shiver again. The stony glare from the embers casts a glow over his skin, strong muscles accentuated in the pale light. But Eirika has no time to blush. She can't see his face anymore in the darkness, but she can see the wound gouged deep into his arm, flaming and red.
Her heart strains against her chest.
Gently she lifts a damp cloth and wipes the blood away till only the wound itself slashes a sharp path from his shoulder to his elbow. Finding salve and bandages, Eirika wraps it, her fingertips brushing against his arms with every turn of the fabric. Seth stays silent, his face an incomprehensible mask in the darkness. He's not looking at her, but instead he's staring into the fire as if it holds all the answers to the world's secrets.
"There," Eirika says softly at last, even though she had been finished for some time. She was watching him. "Seth, take this, you – you can't really put on your shirt again with the bandages."
She folds her blanket over his shoulders when he doesn't make any move to take it on his own. But the sudden lack of the warm wool exposes her body to the evening's biting, bitter cold, and she too shivers.
Immediately Seth turns. "Princess, I can't," he says, pulling it off of his shoulders. "This is the only blanket. I can't - "
"No," says Eirika crossly. "I'm fine, Seth. You are the one who is injured."
"I cannot sit comfortably knowing that you're cold, princess - "
"Well," Eirika retorts, "I will not sit knowing you are cold, Seth." She crosses her arms, resolute.
A silence falls between them, the fire's crackle and the sounds of the night only vaguely disrupting the dark stillness. Neither will ever back down, and both of them know that very well. Seth sighs.
"Then, there is no point in both of us being cold, is there?" With a careful movement, he drapes half of the blanket over his own shoulders, then holds out the rest for her. His face is calm, unreadable.
For only a moment, Eirika hesitates. She sits down beside him, and his strong arm wraps the blanket around her, too. It is soft and comfortable, but when she leans tiredly against Seth's chest, his body is warmer. He doesn't move his arm from around her shoulders. Even the night seems to have quieted as Eirika closes her eyes and lets all her thoughts vanish into the sky.
"Seth?" she murmurs, listening to his heartbeat.
He brushes hair away from her cheek, bending close to hear. "Yes?"
"Thank you."
When dawn arrives, Seth is already awake and preparing for the coming day. She's alone under the blanket, and despite its coarse thickness, she's cold.
She doesn't remember the kiss he pressed to her forehead, or the tear that fell from her cheek onto his scarred, gentle hand.