Slow Down

Chapter 1: Heebie-Jeebies

"I knew I shoulda used up the last of that healing staff…damn it!"

Brady had a big problem with his staves. He was never satisfied with charging into the heat of the action with a half used stave. One of Brady's biggest fears stemmed from a past experience he had with a staff breaking on him during a battle. He remembered the moment with despair: an attempt to use his rescue staff on his father, Frederick, had failed when it broke mid-use, cutting the teleportation process dead. Frederick, hovering through the air as he was being 'rescued', was suddenly dropped into a nearby ravine, effectively taking him out of the battle and leaving the rest to clear up the hoard of Risen that had appeared. Brady could remember the verbal beating he received from his father after the wet experience.

However, now standing inside the large convoy tent which held the Shepherds' mass of unused, stored surplus, Brady was faced with a problem. The group's war chest had run slightly dry after the funds had to be sacrificed for the purchase of food. This meant that Brady could not buy a new healing staff, which left him with many half-used, almost depleted staves. His pet peeve.

"Gah, what was I thinkin'?" he cursed silently to himself as he looked at the seven staves he had laid out in the center of the tent on the grass. Aside for the entrance, the tent was filled to the brim with crates of weaponry, surrounded by the odd sword, axe or tome lying about and a series of wheelbarrows and carts for transportation. Brady shot his gaze at his surroundings, exasperated.

"Surely there's gotta be a clean healing staff I ain't used yet…" he mumbled to himself, turning slowly as he surveyed the room. His eyes fell upon each and every crate in turn, checking them off a list in his mind. With no success, he had searched nearly every box in the room for a good staff to use for Chrom's upcoming march. And he'd be damned if he was going to take up all of his possible carrying space with half used, faulty staves. What was worst was the fact that he couldn't ask Lissa or even his mother, Maribelle, for a spare healing staff; half the staves laid out on the floor were on loan to him.

Sighing, he continued to look around, until a figure caught the corner of his eye. As soon as it did, a voice spoke out.

"Ah!" it yelped. "B-Brady…"

Brady's body jolted as the voice caught him off guard. He didn't yelp in surprise but his chest pulsed quickly inwards as he was caught off guard. Spinning on his heel, he saw where the voice came from: Nah. She was stood there in her red cloak, looking up towards him; the staves created distance between the two. Trying his best to hide the shock he'd received, he cleared his throat quickly.

"Yeah?" he asked brashly. "Whatcha want?" Brady's eyes caught sight of Nah's eyes staring directly at him. Her hands were intertwined tightly with each other.

"I don't, er…" Nah stammered, clearly flustered. Brady could see that she was desperately trying to keep her composure; Nah looked visibly nervous. Brady started to lift one of his eyebrows in order to try and garner a response.

"…Nothing in particular" Nah finished. Brady felt his patience already thinning; there was no way he had time for this. If he didn't find a good healing staff quickly, the next trip wasn't going to be a pleasant one for him.

"Then why ya eyeballin' me?" he questioned, eyebrow rising once more. He took his hands away from their sides and opened them out, illustrating his impatience. "You got something to say or what?" Nah retracted a little, staking a step back and lowering her head.

"N-nothing!" she answered, feigning sternness. The scene was reminiscent of a head teacher punishing a school child. Brady waved his hands again in further exasperation.

"Then what?" he continued. "Something wrong with you? You coming down with something?"

"N-no, nothing like that" Nah replied, shaking her head. She then closed her eyes slightly and raised her head. Her gaze started to move away from Brady, as if she were avoiding him. Brady sighed, putting one arm down whilst gesturing towards Nah with his other hand, waving it up and down as if displaying her to an audience. Or herself.

"Well, you ain't ACTING fine" he accused, taking a few steps around the neatly laid staves to approach her, which caused her to step back a little in fright. His voice lowered slightly as he noticed the sounds of training diminishing slightly outside. Worried that his voice would trail out of the tent, he hushed his voice a little. "It's freaking me out! You don't go all quiet when you talk to any of the others"

"That's not true!" Nah retorted sharply, jumping in fright suddenly afterwards from the loudness of her voice. It shook her composure again as she retreated slightly. "Er, no, it is, but…" Her stuttering had revealed itself again, but she refused to let herself fall weak, despite Brady's intense, critical glare on her. "I'm not being quiet!" she defended. "I'm the same as always…"

Brady's patience had gone. He had no time for games; as his eyes shot towards the staves on the floor, he realized that there was little time left for him to work out his problems.

"Sure, fine" he dismissed monotonously, giving up. "Whatever" He turned around and waved his arms in exasperation once again, strutting back towards one of the crates to continue his search for a healing staff. He opened up the cap for one of the boxes and looked inside; it was full of swords. Releasing a desperate sigh, he slid the cover back on the box and turned around. Nah was still standing there, now looking at him again. Brady didn't quite understand this girl; he hadn't known her very long and this was their first interaction that hadn't taken place on the battlefield. Noticing that she wasn't going to move, he decided to pursue the mystery in front of him. He leant back on the box he examined, wiping his forehead.

"…You scared of me? Is that it?" he asked, looking at his hand. He then looked towards Nah again; she still hadn't moved. Gesturing to himself, he said: "I give ya the heebie-jeebies?"

Nah crossed her arms together, snorting quietly.

"I'm not scared!" she said defiantly, a stance that confused Brady to no end. "Why would I be scared? That's crazy talk! You're crazy!" She pointed an accusing finger at him whilst she said her piece. Brady was struggling to understand the change in attitude: first she was shy, and now she was accusing him of being the crazy one. Brady snorted in response, crossing his own arms and turning his head to the side, looking at the grassy floor inside the tent.

"Oh, really?" he retorted.

"Y-yes, really…I'm not!" Nah continued. Brady sensed her confidence falling once again. His mind cast to the task at hand: it was clear that there were no healing staves in the convoy tent that were to his level of satisfaction. He would have to continue his search elsewhere. Lifting himself up from the crate, he started for the exit of the tent.

"Well, whatever it is, I ain't sticking around so you can gawk" he grumbled as he walked towards the exit, his eyes looking away from Nah. "I'm gonna fade" Nah watched as he walked towards the exit before turning the corner and vanishing from sight. As soon as he left, she sighed heavily, letting her body droop.

"I j-just wanted to talk…" she said out loud to herself, as if Brady were still in the tent, listening. She hushed her tone, closing her eyes. Brady's face appeared in her vision, with his messy hair and scarred eye.

"When I see that face, though, I clam up…" he thought. "It's not my fault he looks so scary!"