This is for the Fire Emblem & The Sacred Stones Challenge by SpeedDemon315 which happens to focus on noncanon pairings. If you wanna try the challenge yourself or if you want more info, visit SpeedDemon315's profile or go to the Fire Emblem Writer's Guild in the FE forums and check out the topic there.
Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem. Only a poor, misguided soul would think I did.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
It had all began with a brief glance and a simple conversation.
Her palms were slick with sweat. She had to hold her lance tightly to keep a good grip. Her blonde bangs flew in front of her eyes, but otherwise, she had a clear view of the battlefield. There was no one in front of her; this was the frontline. She never imagined that she would be here. Was it true that they put recruits in the frontline so they could be used as meat shields? She tried not to think about it.
Amelia wasn't sure why she tried to strike up a conversation with him, of all people. With his large, muscular frame he was easily a foot and a half taller than her. His fingers tapped erratically on the blade of his axe as though he couldn't wait to swing it. With the dark circles under his eyes, he looked like a man who would sooner forgo his sleep than miss a battle. Truth be told, she'd run if she ever met him in a dark alley.
Glancing nervously at him, she tried to make small talk, if only to lift the silence that weighed so heavily on her nerves. "H-hello," she stammered. "I'm Amelia."
The man ignored her. His red hair was swept back and she could clearly see that his eyes were trained on the horizon. From the top of the hill where they stood, they could see wide, rolling plains that stretched until they hit the forest. The enemy had yet to appear, but she imagined the red-haired man springing alive as soon as they came into sight.
Why was she talking to a man whose neck was as thick as her waist? Maybe it was because he happened to be standing beside her. Perhaps this was what they meant when they spoke of friendships forged on the battlefield though she didn't seem to be making much progress.
"Well, good luck," Amelia mumbled to her feet. It didn't seem likely that he would talk to her.
"About time."
She glanced up at the man next to her. With a grin that bared his yellowed canines, he was still staring into the horizon. He spoke again though it appeared the audience was no one in particular. "Let's look alive. They're coming."
There, in the horizon, was the opposing army. Slowly, they emerged from the forest, stepping out from between the trees. First, it was the foot soldiers who appeared. Then the calvary appeared as well, flanking them. They marched on and still there were more who exited the forest. The Grado army was huge in its own right, but there appeared to be no end to the Renais army's numbers.
"There's so many of them," said Amelia quietly. "I wish there were fewer."
The red-haired man looked down at her. With a grin, he said, "Where's the fun in that?"
Amelia gave a start at the sight of his eyes looking into hers. Just as she was about to ask him what he meant, the soldiers who hadn't done so already started to unsheathe their weapons.
Everyone seemed quieter. Amelia had the sneaking suspicion that there was no one in their army who wasn't holding their breath. They were all statues waiting until the moment of battle to breathe. As soon as it started, they would be using every muscle in their bodies to fight and stay alive.
The commander stood at the head of the army. He turned to face the soldiers. "We'll wait until they've all left the forest. We have the higher numbers so it will be easier for us to overwhelm them in the plains. Fight hard for the glory of Grado!"
The red-haired man snorted. Immediately, the commander turned towards him. The collective eye of the army was on them. Everyone was waiting to see what would happen. Amelia could've sworn that the commander looked ready to spear the red-haired man right there and then. "Are there any problems?" he asked.
Amelia could see that the red-haired man was smiling. "No problems," he said. He didn't sound very sincere.
"A mercenary has to follow orders to get paid, Caellach," said the commander. He didn't return the smile.
The red-haired man replied, "Yes sir." He gave an exaggerated salute, grinning as he lifted his hand to his forehead.
From his furrowed brow, Amelia thought the commander would start yelling, but he didn't. Giving Caellach one last glare, he turned to watch the horizon. It wasn't too long before the trickle of enemy soldiers from the forest stopped.
This was it. Amelia could feel her feet tensing. The battle was about to start. The eye of the storm was here. Unnerving silence was hanging in the air. Behind her, Amelia could hear someone gulp. Another person was murmuring what sounded like a last-minute prayer.
After what seemed like a long time, the commander screamed, "Charge!"
Immediately, the army responded. The floodgates to their energy had been thrown wide open and they surged down the hill and towards the plains. Amelia didn't feel like she was moving of her own accord. She had fallen back from the frontline. The current of raised weapons and battle cries carried her along.
Through the gaps between the soldiers in front of her, Amelia watched the enemy grow in size as the two armies charged towards one another like magnets attracted by some unseen force. She braced for the impact of the two armies meeting as though she would feel the first strike with her own body.
A clang resonated in the air. Peering through the sea of bodies, Amelia spotted the red-haired man already locked in combat with an enemy soldier. Before long, cries rent the air and it seemed like everyone was already fighting.
Except for her.
Amelia stood there amidst the jostling bodies and flashing metal. Somehow, she wound up completely ignored as she swung her head side to side, trying to follow flashes of movement that ended in red. Should she finish the archer who has already been wounded in the leg or should she fight the swordsman whose back was turned to her?
Heart thumping, she tried to steady her lance arm as she aimed for an enemy soldier's throat. If she struck true, he wouldn't have the time to scream before her lance went through his neck. Her grip tightened. It was better that way.
Suddenly, his head fell to the ground and a stump was left of his neck. His body, freed of a human face, seemed like a strange monster as it flopped to the ground. It was the red-haired man, Caellach, standing behind the headless corpse with his axe. His grinning face was flecked with blood.
It wasn't before she was left alone in a field of corpses that Amelia realized the Grado army, her army, was gaining ground. Bodies littered the ground and she could scarce move for stepping on the dead. This was a soldier's lot. Hadn't she know this all along?
Amelia didn't rejoin the battle.
ooooo
After the battle, everyone was assembled in the Grado camp. The commander had been killed in battle though no one could say they saw who did it. The announcement was given by the vice-commander who was now promoted into the commander. After the assembly, everyone dispersed to go to a nearby town for a few drinks or sit around the fire and boast of their conquests.
It bothered her. Amelia thought that people would care. She wasn't expecting tears, but she saw people yawning through the announcement. Did the dead warrant so little sympathy?
With the free time after the battle, Amelia decided to return to the battlefield. It was a strange thing to do, but she felt she had a purpose for returning.
When she arrived, the air was rank with the smell of blood. Covering her nose with her hand did little to stay the stench. She could've sworn blood-mist was getting into her eyes and making them squint with discomfort.
Crows had already flocked to feast on the fruit of man's discord. Some circled the sky before picking their meal. Some were already devouring their share. They strutted about with bloated bellies, drunk on metallic wine and cavorting as the masters in a land of dead men. Faceless corpses were stripped of red, steaming meat. Amelia was glad that she hadn't eaten a lot before coming. Suddenly, a voice shouted out.
"I'm not dead yet, punk!"
Loud, frenzied cawing burst through the air. Crows flew into the sky. They cawed indignantly at being robbed of a meal.
"Too bad! I don't die easily, you damn crows!"
Amelia ran over to the bushes where she had heard the voice. Stepping around the leafy foliage, she spotted Caellach sitting on the ground.
The man scoffed at the cawing crows. "Yeah? Well, this is what I think of you!"
Pointing both his arms up towards the sky, he proudly displayed his middle fingers for the world to see. The crows, probably discouraged by the fact that their supposed meal was still alive and kicking, flew off in search of something that couldn't bite back.
"That's right!" jeered the red-haired man. "No crow is getting their dirty claws on me!"
Amelia stood there, surprised. Blood gushed between his fingers where he held his stomach. He appeared to have suffered a good hit to the head as well seeing how the red liquid dripped down his temple to his chin in a crusted river. Despite his injuries, Caellach managed to pick up a stone and hurl it at the birds. It hit one square in its back and sent it careening to the ground in a rain of black feathers.
The red-haired man started muttering to himself, "I get knocked out and left for dead, then I wake up to crows pulling at my limbs. Not my finest moment."
Amelia tentatively tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned to look at her, she said, "Excuse me, but, um, I have some vulneraries here."
When the red-haired man noticed her, the first thing he did was stare at her legs. Amelia immediately blushed and wished her skirt wasn't so short. Caellach whistled appreciatively. "Man, those Renais scum must'a got me good. You are one fine angel."
The blonde girl was taken back. He was possibly dying of blood loss and his priority was to hit on her?
"I... I'm trying to help..."
"Just let me look at you. The pain's going away already."
At that moment, the wind picked up. Amelia fumbled with the hem of her skirt before she managed to pin it down.
Caellach grinned. "Nice view."
A vulnerary flew through the air and made a bullseye out of his forehead before landing in the grass. He chuckled and uncorked it. "No need to get violent, sweetcheeks. That's no way to treat the injured."
Amelia huffed. "You don't act very injured."
"It's a gift," he said. He looked at her face. "You the new kid who introduced herself? Guess I'll return the favour. I'm Caellach. You're Amanda or somethin' like that."
"Amelia."
"Close enough." Without any warning, Caellach pulled his shirt off. Even with the bruises lining his body and the gash on his stomach, Amelia could tell he had impressive muscles.
Catching her eye, Caellach flexed his arm and winked. "Who's peeping now?" he said suggestively.
Amelia looked away, blushing. She could've sworn it was a rule somewhere that injured men shouldn't be so cocky.
Suddenly, Caellach hissed in pain. Gingerly running his hand over his stomach, he dumped the vulnerary's contents onto his open wound and grimaced at the burning sensation.
Amelia kneeled on the ground to help him. "You need to pour it slowly," she explained. "Here, let me do it."
Caellach quirked an eyebrow when she took her last vulnerary and started tending to his wound herself. "Your mother never told you not to talk to strange men?"
"She told me to give help to people who needed it."
He snorted. "How cute."
Amelia looked up into his face but didn't say anything. Were all mercenaries so ungrateful?
For a while, neither spoke. The only sound was of the cawing crows who had found the feast. Squawking as they quarreled even though there was enough to feed the world's crows, they rasped at one another like greedy men. Suddenly, their caws faded away as footsteps were heard.
Noticing how the footsteps became louder, Amelia crawled to the bushes and peered in between the leaves. She saw four men, each dirtier than the last. They laughed as one of them rolled over a corpse with a kick.
"Lookit this one!" he said. "It's got no head!"
Stumbling about, they grabbed onto one another for support as they laughed uncontrollably at the sight of a headless man. Before long, they were traipsing around the battlefield and mocking the dead.
"I found a leg! Think there's someone out there who has to piss on one leg?"
"Hey, there's a head here! Let's have a game of ball!"
"You think whoever's missing this arm will mind if I use it as a back scratcher?"
Amelia watched as they went on with their swaggering and jeering. Noting the axes and swords at their hips, she bit her lip. If these men found them, she and Caellach wouldn't be able to run away, not with his injuries.
"Run."
Amelia turned to Caellach. "What?"
"Run," he repeated. The effort made him grunt but he managed to get to his knees. "You'll get in the way."
"What are you doing?"
Caellach grabbed his axe. Amelia rushed over and tried to stop him but he pushed her away. Wincing as he got to his feet, he said, "Go while the going's good. These bastards will find me sooner or later." Holding one hand to his stomach, he staggered forward from behind the bushes.
Amelia, still hidden by the leaves, heard the four men approach, boots squelching in bloody mud.
"Hey! This one's still up and about! How about we fix that, hm?"
"The only thing getting fixed is your ugly face," retorted Caellach. He gestured at them with his axe. The four men took one look at him and laughed.
Amelia grabbed a lance from the ground only to curse her luck; the spear head was broken. Quickly, she got down on the ground and grabbed another but it dangled uselessly in two halves. The footsteps became louder.
One of the four men stepped forth. He drew his sword from its sheath.
"Left for dead, huh?" he taunted. "I guess your army didn't bother checking to see if the deadbeats were alive."
"Only deadbeats I see are you four," replied Caellach.
The swordsman spat on the ground. "We'll see if you're still talking after we're done with you."
"I found one!"
All five of the men turned at the unexpected voice of a girl. Amelia held lance that was as thick as her wrist. She had hoped to find a lighter one but she decided it was better than nothing. With a heave, she pulled the steel lance into position and struggled to grip it properly. The spear head wavered in the air and pointed vaguely in the direction of the four intruders.
Caellach frowned at her. "What are you doing here?"
"Helping you," she replied.
"Who asked for your help?"
"You're injured! You can't fight them all off by yourself!"
The four men laughed. The swordsman said, "You should listen to the girl, let her join in on the fun."
Amelia saw Caellach tense his arm as they laughed. He muttered something under his breath. The swordsman held back his laughter for a moment. "What did you say?"
"I said, 'You should duck.' "
The handaxe flew through the air and took his head from his shoulders in one clean blow. He never knew what hit him.
Holding his hand up in the air, Caellach neatly caught the axe as it returned. Beside him, Amelia stared in awe.
The remaining three men drew their weapons, but not before taking a cautionary step back. They narrowed their eyes. Caellach smirked.
"What's wrong?" he said. "Losing your confidence?"
One of the men replied, "It's three against an injured man and a girl, we can take you!"
Suddenly, Caellach rushed forward. Falling back in surprise, his opponent tried to deflect the already-stained axe with his own but Caellach easily stepped around it. The shining axe reflected his grin on its naked blade. The other man fell to the ground with only a few shreds of flesh connecting his torso to his legs. Caellach pulled his axe out of the body.
"Two down."
The remaining two men charged. One pulled ahead of the other and swung his sword in a sweeping horizontal arc. Caellach ducked and kicked the man's legs out from under him. Axe in hand, he cleaved the man's head as easily as a loaf of bread.
The last man faltered. His three companions were all dead on the ground like the many corpses around them. There was nothing standing between him and the red-haired man.
"W-wait," he said, backing up. "We can talk this out, can't we?"
"I'm not a fan of talking," replied Caellach.
He raised his axe but his opponent turned and ran. Sighing, Caellach readied his axe for a throw. "The last one always runs," he muttered. His target stumbled on a corpse just as Caellach pulled his arm back.
Suddenly, Amelia noticed that the fourth man had dropped his weapon. Amelia dropped the lance and grabbed Caellach's arm. "Hold on!" she said. "You don't need to kill him!"
"Hey! Let me go!" Caellach wrenched his arm from her grasp but it was too late. The fourth man was already gone. Caellach sighed. "Damn, he ran fast."
Amelia sighed in relief. There wasn't any need to add any more bodies to the battle field.
Suddenly, Caellach groaned. Wincing, he fell to the ground on his knees. Amelia immediately kneeled beside him. "What's wrong?"
Her eyes trailed down his arm to his stomach where his hand tried to stem the flow of blood. It gushed out in little streams like water flowing from a cracked dam. She quickly pressed her hand over his to put more pressure on the wound. She felt his body struggling to rise and fall, his life's tide ebbing beneath her hand. The blood wasn't stopping.
"Shit," Caellach said through gritted teeth. "Doesn't look good for me."
Amelia pressed harder with her trembling fingers. "It's gotten worse. You shouldn't have fought them."
The red-haired man scoffed. "What do you think I get paid for? It's my job."
Suddenly, Caellach lurched forward. He shuddered before laying one hand on the ground to keep from falling. Sweat was gathering on his brow. Amelia wondered at how he managed to stay conscious.
He was losing a lot of blood. She had to do something. Then she spotted his discarded shirt. Quickly, she grabbed it and started tearing the fabric into strips. Taking them back to Caellach, she removed his hand from the wound and started tying the cloth around his abdomen.
"You realize you're wasting your charity, right?" said Caellach. "A mercenary doesn't stick with an army for long before moving to the one that pays better."
"That doesn't matter."
Suddenly, Amelia became aware that she was in close proximity of a muscular, sweaty and shirtless man. Blushing, she fumbled with the ends of a few cloth strips. His breath, irregular from the blood loss, blew into her hair.
"You're a real bleeding heart, aren't you?" he said, lowering his mouth to her ear.
Amelia tried very hard to focus on his bandages. "I-I'm just trying to help a fellow soldier."
"I told you, I'm a mercenary."
"I told you... it doesn't really matter."
She finished tying the last knot. Caellach grunted and pushed himself to his feet. Swaying slightly, he steadied himself on Amelia's shoulder. "Help me up, will you?"
Amelia complied. Together, with Caellach draping his arm around her, they headed in the direction of the camp, taking care not to trip over any bodies on their way. The crows were back and seemed even more obnoxious than before. Amelia brushed against one that squawked angrily at her as though she had no place on the battlefield.
Caellach glared at the crow and, however coincidental it may have been, the bird shut up. The red-haired man scoffed. "I hate crows," he muttered. Then he turned to the girl who had given him two vulneraries, tried to help him fight, and bandaged him.
"Try not to regret this," he said. "I might just live to fight against you, toots."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
First FE fic in a loooong time. It'll be a threeshot, maybe a twoshot, if everything goes as planned. I hope I finish before the deadline.
Please review (or not) as you see fit. Feel free to tell me how I suck at romance and battle scenes or whatever other con crit you'd like to offer.