Narrow Peepers
A Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance Fanfiction
DISCLAIMER: Fire Emblem and its characters belong to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems.
Squinty eyes.
Squinty eyes…
Squinty eyes…!
I sift through a pile of letters, completely at a loss. Every single letter has on its front 'to Mr. Squinty-Eyed Mercenary, Greil Mercenaries, Crimea', or something of that sort. Of course, it's an honour to get so many letters considering what I do for a living, but you must understand, I'm not Ike. I'm not the commander. So why me?
And what's this with my squinty eyes? I have a name, you know.
I grab a penknife off of my desk and start opening the letter on the top of the pile, pulling out the piece of paper from the envelope. The letter is written in what almost looks like chicken scratch, but slowly makes itself out to be childish scrawl. Despite this, it's actually rather grammatically accurate.
Dear Mr. Squinty-Eyed Mercenary,
I don't know if you remember me, but thanks for saving me and my friends from those bandits! I just want you to know that we're all really thankful! We don't have anything to pay you with, but we decided to write this letter so we can thank you!
Billy
Why, that's so sweet of them. We sometimes get letters thanking us for our work, but not usually from little kids. Actually, I only passed them by on my way back from buying groceries and noticed that they were being attacked. Needless to say, my lance suffered quite a bit from being roughhoused by axes…
I sit on top of my faithful horse as we trot back to the base, with a sack of the week's goods dangling off the side of the saddle. Just what are we going to have for dinner tonight? I don't know, but I'll definitely make sure it's good stuff. Been a while since I cooked, and Mist is definitely getting… adventurous with her styles. Just the other night I noticed Boyd threatening to retch on Rolf, and he wasn't exactly kidding.
Hmm, what's that? I think that's a bunch of kids… and they're not alone. Bandits?
I grab the lance tied at my back and spur my horse forward. Rushing in, I immediately lodge my weapon into the neck of the nearest bandit, swiftly flipping to the other side and sticking it into another. I quickly see to it that the kids are safe.
"Are you all right?" I ask to the nearest one.
"Yes, mister!" was the scared but chipper reply.
"You get out of here, okay?"
I get silent nods from the children, and they immediately run for it. Obviously, the bandits notice, and start to run after them. I gallop forward and cut off their path. Suddenly facing an onslaught of not-so-pleasant axes, I place my lance in front to fend off the attacks, giving it various nicks.
I then turn on the offensive, running through the mob and spinning around to catch the bandits off their guard. The routine stab, the occasional reverse thrust, a strange new technique that Boyd insisted on me using that I decided to try, and in a matter of moments only the leader was left.
"I know you!" the bandit suddenly shouts.
Excuse me?
"You're that weird squinty-eyed guy I heard about! You beat up my cousin the other day!"
Honestly, am I that famous? You'd think they'd be more scared of Ike or Titania or something.
"They warned us about you! You think you're so high and mighty, but you're only beating up other people for money."
Really, you do too. I think I've heard this speech about half a dozen times this month…
"… aren't you going to say anything? Are you even listening?" When I don't respond, he says, "Fine! I'll get my revenge!" Typical. Normal. Routine. I decide not to let it get to him and lunge at him with my now battered lance, silencing him if at least for the moment.
The kids are gone now, so I don't think I have to worry about the bandits going after them. Yes, it's time to go home and cook that dinner. The sun's setting – I'm already late as it is! Stupid Oscar…
Oh, yes. That incident. Of course I remember.
Now that I think about it, though, how did that boy know I was in the Greil Mercenaries? Actually, considering my 'fame', I don't want to know.
This sort of thing happens periodically. Every so often some kind person will send some mail to us, telling us how helpful we were. It's quite morale-boosting, really. Especially when the sender is a girl and the receiver is Gatrie. Go figure. What warrants the exceptional gathering on my table today, though, is beyond me. I think that people are just sending me letters now instead of putting their thanks into one of Ike's.
Of course, it's not like we can stop by every single person we save and tell them our names, so we've garnered quite the set of nicknames for ourselves. Titania's the 'red-headed fair lady', Gatrie's the 'big lunk of blue armour', Shinon's the 'mean-faced girly guy' and Soren's just the 'mean-faced girl'. After Ike read that particular letter out loud one dinner, though, we never mentioned it again. Shinon still scowls when Ike reads letters out at meals, even though we haven't come across quite the same name in a while, and Soren's frigid glare gets even colder, if that's even possible.
Me? I've gained quite a few. I'm either the 'little boy's older self', the 'green everything guy' or, as you've probably seen, 'Mr. Squinty-Eyed Mercenary'. However, I've taken many, many precautions not to let others know about that last one. It's enough to hear some stranger saying it. I don't want to imagine what my brothers would say about it. Ike obviously knows – I mean, he reads the letters! – but I bribed him with meals to shut him up. The group still looks at him in a funny way when he glosses over that part of the letters and quietly chuckles to himself, realizing afterwards that everyone else had no idea what he would possibly be laughing about.
Frankly, I don't see what's so funny. Why are my squinty eyes so abnormally special? Aside from the fact that no one I know seems to have the same feature… fine, they're quite noticeable. But for some reason, being explicitly associated with them is quite irksome. It must be the way people write it or something. No, even Kieran recognized me for my squint …
I watch as Volke quietly unlocks the prison doors. Under his touch, the cell door swings open, begging us to walk in. I approach the nearest prisoner to me, a knight in red armour.
"You're from Crimea, right?" I ask. "Come on – we're here to rescue you. We've opened your cell. Now's the time to escape."
"Ah! It's you!" the knight replies.
"Pardon?" His voice sounds familiar…
"I could never forget that squint! Knights of Crimea, twelfth regiment… your name is Oscar!"
Great. It's my squinty eyes that people always remember. Just who is this guy, anyways? Wait…
"And you're … wait a moment… you're Kieran, right?" I hazard a guess.
"That is correct!" he exclaims in response. You'd think that when trying to break someone out of a prison, he'd know to stay quiet. "I am Kieran… the same Kieran who has sworn himself to be your eternal rival!"
I shouldn't have brought it up.
Oh, that definitely brings back some… distinct memories.
After reading them all, I stick them in the stash I have underneath my bed. Not the greatest hiding place, I know. Then again, Boyd and Rolf have never made any attempts to see if I've ever had anything hidden in the first place, so I don't bother making an effort either.
Right! Time for today's training. Have to get my mind off of those letters…
My new steel lance rests on the wall, waiting to slice through the air. Ah, to have the feel of it in my hand. It's just itching to be used. Every fighter feels this way, I think. Weapons are like extensions of yourself, and they sort of have their own subconscious feelings that seep into your own. It's the truly strong that can tap into those feelings and use them effectively. When you meet someone like that, it's frightening, but exhilarating.
… of course, thinking of fighting makes me think of this one memory…
"Excuse me!" a voice calls out. "Excuse me, mister – sir?"
I turn around to see a little girl walking up to me with these big eyes of hers. They're just staring at me like I've got two heads. I have no idea what she's doing.
"Yes?" I say. "Is there something wrong?"
"No… I just wanted to thank you, mister!" she says happily. "But there's one thing I want to ask you…um…" She's kind of hesitant. I wonder if it's a sensitive subject. "Uh… how do you see when you fight if you squint all of the time?"
"Don't worry, I can see fine," I tell her. Sensitive subject, indeed.
"But when I walk around and squint I bump into people all of the time!" she insists. "My ma says that it's bad for your eyes. So open them up a little more, okay?"
I really don't know what I should be saying to this little girl... I'm used to it? My eyes are sensitive? My eyes are too special to see?
It's official. Everyone in this world, including myself, is obsessed with my squinty eyes. How am I not, if I think about them every other second?
I grip my lance with a determined hold. I am going to practise. I am not going to think about my eyes. Just do the normal drills and… relax…
It's easy to lose yourself when you practise. You can go on for ages and ages just doing the same thing and doing it so much that it becomes instinct, and in the meanwhile you can use the time to think. I don't understand why Boyd thinks it's such a hassle to train when he does the same things in battle, but that's Boyd for you. From his point of view, though, everyone else is crazy. Sometimes I think I see Mist practising more with her sword than he does with his axe, let alone his bow.
But I digress. See? I'm even able to think to myself when I practise.
Hmm? Who's that? Oh, it's Ike. He looks like he's reading a letter. I shudder. Letters…
"Oscar, can I talk to you for a moment?" he yells over.
I stop mid-thrust and walk over to where he is, under a tree. Phew, it's sunny today. The shade helps. I haven't even noticed how much I've been sweating.
"What is it?" I ask.
"I-I just thought that you might like to read this," he says. He's stifling a laugh. Oh, goddess. I brace myself for the worst as I gingerly take the paper from his hand and let my squinty eyes scan it over.
Dear Lord Ike,
Thanks for saving our village! It was the first time I got to see you in person. You are my hero! You are, like, sooooo handsome! Can you meet up with me at my village's gates one day? I'll be waiting for you
Oh, and my friend's totally interested in that squinty-eyed friend of yours. She says that she thinks his eyes are a turn-on. So could you, like, bring him with you? You're so sweet!
Undyingly faithful,
Ellie
I blink.
I scrub my eyes.
I read it over again. And again.
"… what is this?" I finally get out. It takes a while for the words to first manifest themselves in my brain and then for them to form on my tongue. The girl's attitude showed itself quite clearly on the paper – she even wrote it in.
"A letter," Ike says nonchalantly. "I just thought I'd show that last part to you, considering that you're mentioned."
"You're not serious about going, are you?"
"Of course not! What, you want to?"
"Are you mad? And how come you're taking this so calmly?"
"Oh, I get these often enough," he comments. "In fact, I have a whole bunch of letters from all sorts of girls requesting… appearances. Some of them ask for different people, too – I think three for Gatrie, two for Boyd and a surprising seven for Rolf."
I gape. And yes, my eyes widen. Cue the gasping at the sight of my emerald irises. "Gatrie I understand, but Rolf?"
"Apparently girls have this sort of fetish for little boys," Ike replies matter-of-factly. "Don't you find this letter entertaining?"
"… do you tell anyone else about these… letters?" I ask apprehensively.
"You're that horrified?" I nod. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to." And I'm saved, if only for the time being. I bid Ike farewell and decide to clean my face before getting lunch ready.
When I arrive at the kitchen, Mist is already busy, taking out fresh bread from the oven. I grab some caught rabbit meat and my spices.
"Oh, Oscar!" she greets cheerfully. "How're you today?"
"I'm fine, thank you," I answer, trying to remove any sort of fear out of my voice. Suddenly, I hear an outburst of laughter. I nearly drop the jar of thyme in my hand on to the ground out of shock, but it tips all over the meat instead. Shoot, I've ruined it now. I guess I'll have to scrape it all off…
"That's Boyd and Rolf, I think," Mist says. "They've been at it for a while now. Do you know what they're doing? They shut themselves up in your room and…" She gestures in the voices' direction.
I find this odd. Normally when Boyd and Rolf are in a room together, they bicker. I only fear for the worst as I run to my room.
If there's one thing I've discovered in life, it's that when I fear for the worst, I get the worst. And sure enough, I find my two brothers and my stash of 'Mr. Squinty-Eyed Mercenary' letters, harmoniously united. I glare at the two of them, who were laughing like maniacs at their older brother's expense, until they realize that I'm there.
"Just what are you two doing?" I ask.
The two of them look up like a pair of children caught raiding the pantry. Boyd innocently shuffles the letters in his hand as though they were nothing and puts his hand over a giggling Rolf. Yes, the scene is obviously fishy. To be brutally honest, they were actually caught red-handed in the act, but seeing as I've already treated them to my 'you're-going-to-get-it' look, I might as well let them squirm a little and attempt to salvage any decency they have left.
"What we're doing? Nothing in particular!" Boyd says. "We were just looking through some old things in our room, you know? I actually dug up some of my old letters and we were laughing at them, that's all!" I must admit, Boyd knows the right face to pull off lies, but not the right excuses. "Isn't that right, Rolf?"
Rolf nods fervently, maybe a little too enthusiastically. He holds back a snigger.
"Is there something wrong, Rolf?" I say to my younger brother. I don't think he can keep up with Boyd much longer.
"N-nothing…" Rolf manages to get out, but he finally subsides to his held-back laughter. "I-I'm sorry, Oscar! Mr. Squinty-Eyes – " He instantly stops.
"What was that, Rolf?" I try to sound harsh, but I guess I just don't have it in me.
"Uh… spring cleaning?"
"One, Rolf, it's summer. Two, that most certainly doesn't sound like 'Mr. Squinty-Eyes'."
Rolf sniffs. Here comes the bawling.
"… uwaaaahhh!" Rolf wails. "I didn't mean to do anything bad, Oscar! I was just sitting on the floor fixing my bow when I saw all the weird papers under your bed! And then I got curious and started reading them, and Boyd came in and saw me laughing, and, and…" He sniffs again, sadly.
Oh, I can't help but feel sorry for him. He's so full of honesty. Must be the 'older brother syndrome' Boyd keeps talking about.
"He can't take that blame, Oscar," Boyd says. "I urged him to show it to me. Besides, I haven't exactly been a good example lately." I think he's only saying this to save his own hide and make himself appear heroic – at the very least, the former reason. I mean, we know that what he said is true to some extent.
I think that at this point I can understand just what Commander Greil must have been going through when we disobeyed Titania's orders that one time and each tried to take the blame for ourselves. The only difference is that I don't have nearly as much grip on these two as Commander Greil had on us. I sigh. There's only so much an oldest brother can do.
"Well, as long as you two don't mention this to anyone else, I'll let this… incident about 'Mr. Squinty-Eyes' go," I finally say. Rolf giggles again, but promptly falls silent. "However, if any word – any word! – about this gets out, I won't hesitate to spill your secret, Rolf." He squeaks and gazes at me with his big, innocent eyes. It doesn't exactly win me over, but it does succeed in reminding me once again about my squint. There I go again! More with the squinting…
"And just what do you have that'll keep me still?" Boyd says. "I still want to know what you and Rolf have been keeping from me! It's not fair! How come YOU know and I don't?" He glares at Rolf, who cringes.
"… you, you better not! Or I'll tell Oscar your secret! And he'll tell Ike!" Rolf threatens, albeit timidly.
"You wouldn't dare, peewee."
"For the last time already, I'M NOT PEEWEE!"
"You'll always be peewee to me!"
"Grr…"
At last, the room's condition returns to what's actually expected of its current occupants. I decided that it's time to head back to the kitchen – doubtless Mist would be wondering just what we were doing. Well, that didn't go too badly. It definitely could have been worse.
"Cook us a good lunch, okay, Mr. Squinty-Eyed Mercenary?" Boyd calls out as I close the door behind me.
"Goodbye, Mr. Squinty-Eyed Mercenary!" Rolf adds.
Why do I always speak too soon? I'll never live this down…
I return to the kitchen feeling slightly subdued and continue to prepare the rabbits. For some reason, I can't help but think that Mist is staring at me. And sure enough, she is.
"Did something happen, Oscar?" she asks. "You seem… disturbed."
"Why do you say that?" I don't like the feeling I'm getting.
"Well, Ike came into the kitchen laughing at this piece of paper and he said, 'Oscar, you've got to see this!' Then he noticed that you weren't there and kind of just left…"
Yes, definitely a bad feeling. I sigh. Not another letter…
"Let's get lunch finished, shall we?" I finally say. I need to get my mind off such matters.
Cooking is a way to make me calm down. I don't know why. It must be the spices I use. I fall into the same sort of state that I'm in when I practise with my lance. Once again, Boyd thinks I'm crazy for this, but maybe it's just a brothers' thing. Rolf never seems to think I'm queer, though. Oh well. What my brothers think of me is of minimal importance right now. What's important is that I get lunch ready before Gatrie comes back from his job and groans about food and women.
Okay. Roast the rabbit over the fire…
It takes a while, but Mist and I are finally done. In good time too, it seems – I can hear the clunk of heavy armour outside in the mess hall.
"Man, is lunch over already?" Gatrie complains. "Please say no!"
"We'll be out in a minute!" Mist calls out.
"Let's call in everyone else, then," I can hear Titania say.
"Darling Mist! The saviour of my stomach!"
Everyone's gathering in the mess hall now, so Mist and I pile what we have onto dishes and carry it all out. The second they see that everyone's sitting down, Gatrie and Boyd each grab a fork and attack the nearest plate of food. Shinon snorts. Titania sighs. Rhys looks slightly terrified. Mia decides to ignore them and satisfy her own appetite. Soren, who I'm standing by as I put down some dishes, mutters something about 'etiquette'.
After putting everything down, I go sit with my brothers.
"This bread is good," Ike comments as he dips it into some soup. "Did you bake it, Oscar?" he calls down the table.
"Actually, Mist did."
"Really?" Boyd asks, turning to Mist. "I didn't think you could make something that good." He grins. Of course, this is going to prompt retaliation.
"Boyd, that's mean!" Mist says indignantly. "I can too!"
"Since when?" was the taunting reply.
"Oscar, this particular rabbit…" Rhys says. I turn away from watching the ongoing argument. "It's good, but there's something off about it…"
"There's too much thyme," Shinon interjects.
Oh. That rabbit.
"I accidentally put too much on that one," I tell them. "I was… preoccupied." It's not too much of a stretch.
"Or maybe," Rolf says, "maybe it's because he can't see – " A glare from me and he suddenly decides to return his attention to his carrots.
I look to the other end of the table, where Ike, Soren and Titania are discussing administrative materials.
"By the way, Ike," Titania says, holding up a bag. "We seem to have gotten more mail."
"More mail?" Ike raises an eyebrow. "Didn't we get a whole stack just yesterday?"
"I don't believe we've done enough to warrant this much mail," Soren adds. "Though I do think I know the cause. Ike, stop doing so many jobs."
"What?"
"Whenever we finish a job now, we get a horde of girls coming to see you. And when you hand out letters, there's still a substantial amount left in your possession. The answer is painfully obvious," Soren says. "It's impractical to let this continue."
I can see where Soren comes from. The last time I went on a mission with Ike, Gatrie, Rolf and Boyd, there was a very peculiar situation that occurred, one that I wanted to get out of my mind, but at the same time frame in my head…
The bandits lay scattered across the ground; some bloodied, some groaning, but mostly knocked out. Yes, we mercenaries kill for a living, but I think that we were tired today. Most of us had been on two, even three missions today, all excruciatingly long.
I sigh. My lance is nearly broken! I think I'll have to get a new steel one. Last time I went to a weapons store they only had iron ones… then again, I was desperate for a new one.
Villagers begin to pour out of their houses, running to us with congratulations and thanks. They're happy, energetic and grateful, almost the exact opposite of how we're feeling at this moment – at least, how I'm feeling. I'm tired, almost cranky, but I'm glad we could help, so I put on a smile for everyone.
Ah, when we go back, I'll definitely look forward to dinner… goodness, I'm sounding like Boyd – what the heck is going on there?
There seems to be a mob of girls approaching us.
Most of them are immediately diverted when they see Ike. They clamour around him like moths to a flame, demanding things out of him like for him to stay for a meal or to meet with them sometime later. Gatrie, being Gatrie, goes up to them and tries to steal some attention for himself. I think he's scored a few meetings…
That, of course, still leaves a number of them with me, Boyd and Rolf. Rolf's still too young, so he doesn't exactly have the right idea of what's going on, but I think he knows. Boyd just seems annoyed, though I think he likes the company – he's talking about some great venture of his to one of the girls right now, actually. One girl comes up to me, kind of shy-like.
Oh, I remember her. She was in the streets when I grabbed her, swung her up on my horse and dropped her off at her house. What she was actually doing outside when the bandits had come, I'm not quite sure.
"Um, excuse me… sir?" she says.
"Yes?" I wait for what she's going to say. She's really quiet when she eventually says something, so I ask her to repeat it.
"Could you… grant me your name?" is her question. It's the first time anyone actually asked for my name, I think. Most people are just happy to get things out of the way, pay us and see us off – except the girls, obviously. I cast a glance at Ike, who seems to be quickly sending girls off to their houses, each with a smile on her face. I think he just can't tell them that he's not interested.
Still, the girls are disturbing.
"I'm Oscar," I say. "It's very nice to meet you, miss."
"Thank you for rescuing me, Sir Oscar," she replies. "I didn't merely want to know you as the mercenary with squinty eyes who saved me."
Oh, it touches my heart. The first person to say that!
"I'm no sir. You may simply call me Oscar. That's fine," I tell her, because she seemed kind of nervous. She smiles at me in response, like she's happy to have met me. It's a rare occasion that this kind of stuff happens, but I guess it's more common now that we're supposedly famous… at least, Ike is.
I glance over at him again. Even Gatrie can't shake the attention off him any more. If that's the case, then it's most certainly a lost cause.
Yes, I remember that situation fondly.
"But it's not just me!" Ike exclaims.
Oh no, Ike. Please, no.
Ike casts a glance over at my end of the table. I think he's seen me looking at him.
"There's, uh… Gatrie, too!" he sputters. "Besides, isn't it the commander's job to do more missions?"
"The commander should look out for the company's interests," Soren states. "Having a group of followers hinders our ability to do work."
"… oh, forget it," Ike finally says, taking the bag from Titania. "Let's see… these are for Gatrie… these are for you, Titania… oh, here's four for Oscar…"
Another four letters? I'm only glad that Ike's the only one who ever distributes the letters.
Ike walks down to give me the envelopes. Immediately, I notice that the first letter actually has my name on it. Only two people I know actually do that… and sure enough, I flip the envelope over to find the seal of the Royal Knights of Crimea. I sigh. Does that guy ever give up? I open the letter to find the familiar, energetic, inky writing.
To my sworn eternal rival Oscar:
Return to the glorious Crimean army, I implore of you! No one will care that you left before – in fact, I'll prepare a wonderful celebration to welcome you with open arms! Together, we could go on many quests and drive out any menaces plaguing our fair land! We could be famous! Your brother Rolf's old enough, right? You don't have to baby-sit him! He's a man, for goddess' sake!
I do believe that he's completely forgotten that I like being a mercenary and that I don't do it for the sake of babysitting.
Aha! I know why you refuse to return! I bet it's those eyes of yours that worry you! If that's the problem, then I shall remedy it! Despite them making you look like evil incarnate, I will do my best to make the other knights feel comfortable with you! Besides, everyone remembers you for them. "Oh, Oscar? I remember him!" they say. "He was the guy with the squinty eyes!"
I twitch. I keep reading.
That aside, should you refuse my offer (as you usually seem to do), you shall remain my perpetual foe! Such lax rules and careless attitude make for the antithesis of what I will become. Mark my words – I will challenge you until the end of time!
Crimean Royal Knights Fifth Platoon Captain Kieran
My, that last section is quite punctured. Literally. The paper is blotched with ink and torn with holes. It appears that his violent emotions were physically applied onto the paper. How rash. Still, this would have been his best argument had it not been for the fact that he makes it seem like people only remember me for my physical features. Sure, it's true, but not in the least attractive. They could at least remember me for my nice smile or personality or…
Oh, forget it. They'll probably only remember me for my squinty eyes anyways.
I sigh, slowly folding up the letter and slipping it back into its envelope. I decide not to open the other three letters until I'm in the half-safety of my room. At least if Boyd and Rolf want to mess with my letters then, they won't be subject to the scrutiny of, say, Gatrie. Or Mia.
I stick the letters into my pocket and start picking up empty dishes as everyone leaves. I notice that Rhys is also picking them up.
"Here, Oscar," he says. "Let me take those."
"Rhys? Are you sure?"
"You want to read those letters, right?" He smiles. "I'll help Mist wash the dishes." He looks around, as though someone's watching him. "Mia's trying to get me on a horse again with a sword and I'm scared. I need something to keep me busy." I gratefully hand over the dishes and he gratefully accepts them. No harm done.
I walk back to my room to see Rolf pestering Boyd to practise with him.
"Rolf, I have to go out soon! Like, in ten minutes!" Boyd says, waving his arms as though Rolf wasn't paying attention in the slightest. "I can't practise with you now!"
"Well, it's a good time to warm up your aim then, right?" Rolf insists. "Come on! Please?"
"Get Oscar to practise with you or something!" Boyd yells back. "Seriously!"
"I practised with my lance this morning and I sure didn't see you practise with your axe," I reply. "And I have letters to read." The two of them turn around.
"Y-yeah!" Rolf says. "So come on, Boyd!"
"Go practise with Shinon, then! Or teach Mist so she can practise with you!"
Rolf freezes at the mention of Shinon as though something was going to explode.
"Shinon never practises with anyone," I fill in for him. "He often doesn't. And Mist has a hard enough time fighting horseback as it is."
"… fine!" Boyd snaps, grabbing his bow from the wall. "But it's your turn next time, Oscar!" Rolf happily skips out after him.
At last, the room's empty. Ah… peace.
I take a look at the second envelope, which also bears my name. The writing looks like it's from someone who doesn't do it on a regular basis. Once again, I'm pretty sure I know who wrote this letter. The seal on the back is none other than that of the kingdom of Phoenicis…
Dear Oscar,
How are you? Are you feeling well? You're not suffering from any near-fatal injuries, are you? I'd come visit myself, but there's just so much work to do. Your last letter left me slightly… worried.
What did I even write in my last letter? Oh, well – I think my self-proclaimed 'uncle' would find a dangerous angle to anything I said I did, just as Soren has an angle for any good he does.
By the way, have your eyes fully opened yet? It's typical of hatchlings to not open their eyes completely for a while. I don't know if that's usual for beorc… and if you're not feeling well, don't hesitate to ask for time off. Honestly, fighting when you're a child! But I'll understand if you really want to.
I simply must visit you one day – I know you young, reckless ones never tell half the truth for fear of embarrassment. Who knows what you're really doing? Oh, I'll get Ulki to come too. He seems to have an affinity for that brother of yours.
Don't forget to write back, all right? And remember, if you're ever in trouble, wave your hands in an open field and scream 'Uncle Janaff!' If your flailing arms don't catch my attention, the cries will reach Unkie Ulki's ears. Unkie Janny will always be looking out for you!
May you fly safely,
Uncle Janaff
I get the feeling that laguz are very protective of their young, but Janaff seems to take it to a whole new level. He insists I always write back and he thinks I'm a baby. Someone – I think Ulki – should really break the news to him… on the upside, it's nice to know someone cares for me seeing as I usually do the caring. I'm actually tempted to try waving out in an open field and seeing if Janaff comes. I don't doubt his ability; he is the Hawk King's eyes, after all. But Crimea and Phoenicis are on opposite sides of Tellius. What chance is there that he'll actually be in the area?
On second thought, I don't want to try. Who knows what kind of view he'll take on 'protecting' me?
But what I find annoying, though I suppose completely unavoidable, is the fact that he has to talk about my eyes.
I think I'm judging him a little harshly, but after being told that the squint makes me like the dark god, a hatchling doesn't quite brighten my view. These comments don't necessarily help my outlook on my look – ha, a pun! – especially since I'm constantly reminded that the squint's what I'm recognized for.
I look at the third letter. It, too, bears my name, but I don't know who could have written it. The letters are gracefully written, unlike that of anyone I know. Hmm. The seal is different, too, though it looks like it's of a noble house. Who in a noble family would write to me?
I open the envelope. Be still, my heart.
Dear Oscar,
How are you? This is Astrid. I had some rare time to write letters, so I figured I should at least send out letters to my fellow paladins. I also sent one to Gatrie – I hope he gets it.
At this time, I hear a burst of "WAHOO! I got a letter from Lady Astrid! I knew it! SHE LOVES ME!" I turn my eyes back to the letter. Talk about coincidence.
Did I do correctly to not mention that I sent letters out to other people aside from him? If it makes him happier…
Anyways, something interesting happened in court the other day, something I felt I had to share with you. When everyone had gathered to discuss my potential marriage, I saw a man who had the same squinty eyes as you! I instantly thought of the nice, helpful, green-haired paladin I met while in the army and I had to write to you. I now have all these wonderful memories to cherish and I want to thank you for them.
On a more comic note, when I saw that man, I shouted your name out because it was so reminiscent! Now my family thinks I've been holding clandestine meetings with another man. I had to write this letter quickly so they would not catch it.
If you ever visit Begnion, please stop by to see House Damiell. I would be so pleased to see you.
Most sincerely,
Astrid
P. S. I know not when I will be able to write another letter, as my family is quite restrictive on the matter. I apologize ahead of time if I must address the letter to you in reference to your physical features, because my family looks at me suspiciously whenever I write a capital O. They were already suspicious enough when Makalov stopped by…
Ah, this letter makes me so full of joy.
Not only does Astrid not relate my eyes to something malevolent or uncanny, she says she remembers me as a nice guy! I mean, it's the eyes first, but she doesn't remember me for only them. Oh, it gives me hope.
Now I feel so much more relaxed. Heck, I think I'll go practise with Rolf.
Oh, wait. There's one more letter.
Sadly, it's not addressed with my name, but Astrid's letter makes me so elated that I'll forgive the person this time.
Dear Sir Mercenary,
My hero! My saviour! I just have to see you again. Please, you have to come visit!
My heart pounds as I write this letter – being able to express myself in the sense of writing words is so much easier than saying them. Just thinking of you makes my soul flutter with joy… but there is one thing that plagues me. Even after I asked you for your name, I could not remember what it was! Os… win?Osgood? Oswald? All I could remember was your alluring squint! So full of mystery… and my heart was set!
So I must see you again, my nameless, squinty-eyed knight!
Your admirer,
Leonora
I…
I feel a part of my heart dying inside…
Oh, goddess.
It took me a while to realize I hadn't written an author's note here. Very well:
To FireEdge for her amazing comments and suggestions. I will cherish them forever. I tried to make Boyd more exuberant, but in the end I don't think anything changed. Oh well - it's all in the name of experimentation!
To awin-chan and Chocolate Confection for their insight and vigilance (oh dear, FE puns) on this very long one-shot. You guys are awesome.
This wasn't the original one-shot I had in mind when I decided I would write one more before school started. Various ideas popped up... but in the end this one nagged me. I know it was Oscar's doing. I'm afraid that I didn't give this as thorough a read-over as I should have. This was sixteen pages of document in the writing, but I applaud you if you've made it this far! I hope you enjoyed reading this and either sympathized with Oscar's plight or laughed at his misery.
-EmbeRin