A/N: The second part of this chapter was inspired by the song Breakeven by The Script. Listen to it if you have the chance; it's a really great song.
When Elena died, Titania came to Greil's house every evening. She held Mist, the baby just barely past newborn, and murmured soft words of comfort into her ear, like a mother would, before setting her to bed. She talked with Ike, smiling at his boyish enthusiasm and innocence, and then sent him off to bed as well. He went with just a few moments' pouting, too young to understand why it was Titania kissing him goodnight instead of his mother.
For Greil was fine by day, his calm exterior and unshakeable determination to love and provide for his children pervading all his actions. But every night, as the sun faded beneath the horizon, he seemed to break all over again. It was as if the daily death of the sun stole the light of his soul, just as the chaos inside of him had stolen the beats of Elena's heart.
Once, Titania sat by him while silent tears glimmered behind his eyes, almost always left unshed. Another time, Titania simply held his uninjured hand, their fingers entwined as she, too, cried for her lost friend. It felt as if the pain would never leave, as if it would forever devour her heart and soul, and Greil… as much as it pained her be living and breathing while Elena – and so, so many others – lay dead, Titania couldn't even imagine the terrible remorse that must be plaguing Greil. Her heart ached at every memory of Elena's kindness, her smile, her laughter. Greil's heart was shattered, irreparable.
If they did not simply sit in silence and contemplate, then they talked for hours into the night, about Ike and Mist, or about nothing at all. Talking kept them focused on the present, so the wounds of the past could have a chance to heal. Their voices were hushed, so as not to wake the children, but also because it felt wrong, somehow, to speak loudly and disturb the peaceful, dark stillness. Many times Titania had to rewrap wound on his hand, his sword-hand, because Greil did not have the motivation to do it himself. Often times she could not manage to wash away all of the blood that lingered on his skin.
And though Titania knew the scar on his soul would always be present, over their long days together the injury seemed to heal, even if it was a slow, laborious process. After a while, he did not break again every night. But Titania still came by often, for the children missed her if she didn't, and Greil often wanted to practice fighting with his axe.
She became the first member of the Greil Mercenaries, and as she worked with him and watched his children grow, so content and so like their mother, she felt as if only the impossible could make their lives any better, any happier.
Even as years and years passed, as Ike grew into a brave young man, a warrior, and Mist into a strong, beautiful girl, just like her mother in her face and her compassion and the glow in her young eyes, Greil still ended up awake at night every so often. Only a calm stroll could clear his head. But once, as he stepped out of his tent, he noticed a certain knight on guard duty, and instead of stealing away on his own, he approached her and placed a hand on her shoulder. Seated on a smooth boulder, Titania whipped around at his touch and leapt to her feet, one hand tight on the handle of her axe.
"Don't worry," Greil said hurriedly. "It's just me."
"Oh," said Titania, relaxing a little, but she didn't sit back down. "It's not bad form to sit on guard duty, is it?"
"Considering that you just demonstrated you can rise to your feet and be ready to attack in a matter of seconds… no, I don't think it's bad form."
To his relief, she smiled. With a warm glance and a sigh, she sat back down again, patting the space next to her.
"Thank you," he said, taking a seat. The stone was pleasantly smooth and cool, whereas her body next to his emanated a gentle heat.
"What brings you out here tonight, Greil?"
Her voice was breezy and casual, but the words were perfunctory, and they both knew it; it was merely something she had to ask for the sake of deference and respect. Greil glanced sidelong at her and saw the understanding clear in her gaze. "Would you believe me if I said it was only the beauty of the moon and stars?" He attempted to mimic her offhand tone.
With sharp awareness, she studied him, from his eyes to his expression to even his posture. Her gaze seemed to tear right through him, baring his soul for her to read like a book. "I know you too well for that, I'm afraid."
"Ah, yes. Well, it was a valiant effort." He paused. All of a sudden, the grass beneath his boots became incredibly intriguing, for he couldn't yet bear to meet Titania's eyes and feel, as he so often did, that she was reading into his heart like no one else could. "I was thinking about the future, this time, rather than the past. The future, and the here and now, for it is oddly difficult to separate the two, I've found. Perhaps this is better than lingering in the past, is it not?"
"I would say so," conceded Titania. "But it also wouldn't do to forget completely. Somehow, I don't think that's a problem here, however. For either of us. But the present and the future… Even now, life is a mystery. What were you thinking about?"
"Ike and Mist, primarily. They are always on my mind, after all… I just wonder, so many times, if this is kind of life I should provide for them, even for all of you. Perhaps we could all be wealthy and carefree, if I were to rise through the ranks of the Royal Knights. Perhaps you could sleep easier at night, too, without the constant worry of how whether or not our little band will find another job, earn enough gold, place enough food on our plates. Am I right, to lead this kind of life, and pull so many others along with me? I can never be sure, for even though it would be so easy to say that my heart is in the right place by helping those in need, as a simple mercenary… I just don't know. I can't know."
Wearily he buried his face in his hands. At once, Titania rested her arm warmly over his shoulders. "Why don't you know? It is easy, and simple… You are teaching your children the value of kindness. You're teaching all of us. I think… Elena would be happier to see you here than to see you knighted."
"I want, so desperately, to believe you," Greil murmured, speaking through his hands. "But my heart holds me back… For when a heart breaks, it doesn't always break quite evenly. It has been broken since she died… and now, each of the pieces tells me something different, and I don't know which one to follow."
The silence of the night followed his words. But it was a serene, musical silence, the chirp of crickets and swaying of autumn leaves resonating inside his head. Next to him, Titania lifted her arm from his shoulders and rested it on his knee instead, her touch somehow delicate despite the rough calluses on her palms. "Perhaps, then… if you cannot follow your heart as a whole, follow the strongest piece? For the piece that tells you where you belong – here, as the commander of the Greil Mercenaries – must be very, very strong, for you lead us so well."
"Only with your help, Titania. You know how much I depend on you."
"Not as much as we depend on you," she said.
When Greil finally looked up, she was smiling kindly, somehow understanding him completely. As if lost at sea and clinging to his only lifeline, Greil took her hand and held it against his chest, wondering if the warmth of her palm and the tenderness of her touch could at least mend, if not wholly restore, his shattered heart.
