Game of Love:

A Heath/Legault love story

Disclaimer: Not mine, I do not own the characters. If I did, Fire Emblem would be a whole lot gayer.

Notes: Sorry if anything is inaccurate; it's actually been some time since I last played this game… And I laughed at Koriku's comment about happy, happy fun times. I thought the very same thing when I was writing it. We all know Legault's mind is often in the gutter. Heh. Oh, and I don't know if there's an official height chart on the characters, but I always thought of Heath as a little taller than Legault. Oh, and it would have been up sooner, if the site hadn't MESSED with me...

The next morning was cold. It was a bone-chilling kind of cold that struck straight down to the marrow, and no amount of clutching your blankets (or bedroll in this case) could get you warm again. Heath woke up to this bone-chilling cold, but was used to it. Mountainous regions, such as Bern, was where he had grown up. He blinked his eyes and lay there for a long moment, then remembered that he'd been sleeping in the same tent as Legault. Startled, Heath half-sat up, supported by one elbow, and looked to the bedroll where Legault should have been. Should have being the key words.

Legault was not there.

Heath sank back down into his bedroll, not sure if the sigh that escaped his lips was of relief or of disappointment. He lay there for a time, then began to stretch. He was feeling a lot better now, as he was wont to when waking up to a fresh new day, cold as it was. The cold almost comforted him in it's reminder of home.

Heath got up and dressed, and went about rolling up the bedrolls, breaking down the tent and rolling the pieces into parts they could carry, or add to the pack mules. It didn't take very long, but by the end of it, Heath realized he was very hungry. His stomach was making awful noises so he wouldn't forget. The stomach rumbling became much louder, and Heath laughed as he looked up at Hyperion.

"Hungry?" he asked. Hyperion regarded him with a look that said, yes, he was very hungry. "All right, let's go hunt you something, then I'll eat."

Un-tethering the wyvern, Heath quickly mounted the beast and took to the air. Hyperion was all too eager to be up high; it was his favorite place to be. Heath had to agree with Hyperion… The sky was freedom. They passed over a forest, and Heath indicated to Hyperion that they should go down. They landed in the midst of the forest, though it was a little difficult with the tight growth of the trees.

Heath let Hyperion stalk the forest on his own, while he took a walk. It was a quiet walk, with an accompaniment of chattering birds overhead, and leaves silently swirling in the air. Heath smiled, a genuine smile. He almost felt human again when he took these walks with Hyperion.

Eventually, Hyperion made his way back to Heath, and Heath surrendered to the thought of going back to the camp. Not that he dreaded it; he just… wished it could always be so peaceful. What an impossibility in this cursed world.

As Heath and Hyperion leisurely made their way back to the camp, Heath noticed there was somebody crouched beside a small pond in a clearing towards the middle of the forest. Heath tensed, thinking that Legault had stalked him into the forest, or found out he'd gone and sat around waiting. But he saw that the person was completely different from Legault...

"Priscilla?" Heath said, somewhat incredulously. She was the last person he'd expected to see all alone in a forest like this. He dispelled any feeling of disappointment that might have arisen, and came over. Priscilla stood and looked up at Heath with a tearstained face, taking Heath aback. He lurched forward. "Hey! Are you all right?" he cried in alarm, taking her arm.

Priscilla sniffled a little, and shook her head. "I-I'm fine, but I can't find m-my horse…" She cast a sad glance around the clearing, and indeed, there was no horse to be seen.

"She's brown, right?" Heath asked, letting go of Priscilla's arm and mounting Hyperion. At Priscilla's timid nod, he said, "I'll find her, don't worry."

As Hyperion began to take flight, however, Priscilla leapt forward and placed a hand on Hyperion's flank.

"Wait! Please…"

"What is it, my lady?" Heath asked, looking with concern at her worried and terrified face. She was whiter than ever. Pulling her hand back from the wyvern and clutching her hands to her breasts, she nearly whispered, "I'm… afraid. To be alone in here…"

Again, she cast a worried glance about her. Heath was instantly on high alert.

"Why?! Did you see something in the forest?!" Heath asked, eyes darting wildly about for some unseen enemy.

"Nothing that I saw, but…" Priscilla inched closer to the wyvern, which Heath thought was extremely brave—that or she was that scared to be alone in the forest. "I-I thought I heard something earlier… And it spooked Rainbow…"

Rainbow? Heath felt somewhat sorry for the poor beast, getting stuck with a name like that.

"Could I… Could I come with you and Hyperion…?" she asked, her eyes shining as she looked up at Heath. Heath hesitated. He'd never had anyone else ride Hyperion with him before. But he didn't want to leave a girl alone in the forest, especially when she was hearing strange noises that spooked her horse.

"All right," he finally relented, putting out a hand for Priscilla.

"Oh, thank you!" Priscilla gladly took the proffered hand and with Heath's help, mounted the wyvern behind Heath. She pressed herself against him, wrapping her hands around his midriff. Heath tensed up at the unfamiliar contact, but willed himself to relax, for his anxiety was being detected by Hyperion, who was snorting and shifting nervously.

"All right… Hold on tight," he warned Priscilla as he nudged Hyperion upwards. The girl's grip on him tightened uncomfortably. Now, why did I have to go and say that? Heath thought, annoyed with himself. Perhaps he was too nice for his own good.

Hyperion took to the air easily, and Heath directed him to glide over the forest. They were so low at first, that Hyperion's tail accidentally grazed a few trees. But at this close proximity, it was hard to see anything that may be moving in the forests, so Heath urged Hyperion to go higher.

"I don't see--!" Heath began, but then he glimpsed a flash of brown dashing through the greenery of the forest; and though brown would normally blend well within a forest such as this, it was conspicuous enough to have caught not only Heath's attention, but some men in the forest. Priscilla leaned into him, looking over his shoulder.

"There she is!" she cried and pointed toward the skittish horse dodging the men closing in around her. It was only obvious they were trying to capture her. She was fine specimen, and would probably gain those bandits a nice bundle.

"I see her," Heath said, only just keeping the annoyance out of his voice. They were both in the same place. What, did she think he was blind, or what? "Hyperion, let's go lower; catch those guys by surprise."

Hyperion obediently swerved towards the men, diving down into the trees. Priscilla shrieked and buried her face in Heath's back. Heath lowered his head, desperately hoping he didn't lose his head to a branch. Flying low as he was, Heath had the presence of mind to pull out his spear and sent two of the men sprawling as a consequence. As the men yelped and others leapt out of the way, Heath saw one trying to get out of the way so fast that the unfortunate soul blindly ran and smacked straight into a tree. Heath pulled on Hyperion's reigns, bringing them into a tight turn that brought down three more men; one to Heath's spear, the other two by Hyperion's tail. Priscilla was clutching at Heath as though she were deathly afraid—which she probably was.

However, all the knocking down of the men wasn't necessarily helping—for half of the men were gathering their wits and standing up and looking pretty menacing. Not only that, but Rainbow had taken off for parts unknown. For all Heath knew, more bandits were still chasing her, and he now had several bandits to contend with.

Heath sighed, but he readied his spear for battle, and took in the men around him. There were three holding axes, one archer, and two myrmidons. They didn't look too terribly tough, Heath told himself. He could take them. Probably.

"Hey, Priscilla," he muttered over his shoulder. She looked up from where he face had been buried in his shoulder. She looked a little green around the gills now. Great, she was airsick. Just wonderful. He'd warn her not to barf on Hyperion, but he had a serious question to ask. "You did bring your heal staff, right?"

"Yes."

Great, she was good for something! Heath felt more confident now. But as he turned to face the bandits again, he realized they'd doubled in number in the mere moment it took him to ask Priscilla that question.

"Oh jeez…" he growled. Now what the hell was he supposed to do?!

The leader sniggered at him, swaggering forward with his ax held before him, pointing it threateningly at Heath.

"You decided to mess with the wrong bandits, there, wyvern boy."

Heath swallowed hard, looking around. They were completely surrounded! But… Heath narrowed his eyes, and looked the leader in the eyes.

"I'm not afraid of a couple of bandits," he said defiantly. He had been a wyvern knight of Bern. He wasn't going to back down so easily. "And I won't go down without a fight."

Plus, he had Raven's sister to protect.

Heath had Hyperion charge forward, his gaze never leaving the leader's. The intensity of Heath's gaze met the ferocity of the leader's, and spear clashed against ax.

"Heh," Heath said as he twisted his spear so that the man's hold on his ax became uncomfortable. He kept twisting, intending on breaking his hold on the weapon and forcing him to back down. But the leader was clever. He used Heath's force to his advantage and suddenly moved the ax downward, causing Heath to pitch forward, losing his grip on both wyvern and spear. His spear went clattering to the ground, as Heath used both hands to hang onto Hyperion's neck.

"No!" Priscilla attempted to hold him steady, but the leader had now plunged his ax into Hyperion's neck. Hyperion howled in anguish, and the anguish quickly became anger. The wyvern reared up and roared loudly, swinging around so that his tail could take care of the leader.

"No, Hyperion!" Heath cried, digging his fingers into the wyvern's neck and trying to will Hyperion back with all his might. But it was worthless. Heath and Priscilla were both thrown from the enraged and injured wyvern. The back of Priscilla's head slammed into a tree and she was knocked out cold. Heath reached out for her from where he'd rolled into the dirt and leaves of the forest floor. He'd taken many falls from a wyvern and knew to roll, but Priscilla had little experience in such things, and wasn't expected to know how to fall.

"Priscilla!" Heath's outstretched hand was viciously stepped on by a nearby bandit. "Augh!" Heath could hear the crunch of his bones. It wasn't yet enough pressure to break them, but…

Suddenly, the man who was stepping on Heath's hand was on his knees on the ground, clutching his throat, which was bleeding profusely.

"Gguuuhh…." The man fell forward onto his face, eyes bulging and glassy. He was dead. Heath frantically scrambled to his feet, looking around. Another man was falling, and the bandits' faces mirrored the confusion and bewilderment on Heath's own face. However, Heath wasn't going to waste time gaping. He rushed to Priscilla's side, dropping to one knee beside her and putting two fingers to her throat.

She was breathing.

Heath expelled a quick sigh of relief, then quickly turned back to retrieve his fallen spear. Standing, he thrust the spear through one man who lunged at him, turning in time to guard against a sword and quickly pierce through the second man's armor. Out of the corner of his eye he was somewhat surprised to see a violet hurricane whirl away from the leader. The leader dropped dead. Heath withdrew his spear from the second man's gut, staring at Legault standing across from him, blades out and that infuriating smirk on his face.

Stunned into silence for a moment, Heath merely stared, then his own lips twitched into a smile which he tried quickly to hide by bringing a hand up to his forehead to push hair out of his eyes.

"Heh. Legault," he greeted the assassin with relief flooding his body. "I don't think I've ever been happier to see you." He lowered his hand and of course, a breeze decided to gust through the forest at that very moment, bringing his hair back across his eyes.

Legault lifted his chin just the slightest, gazing at something just beyond Heath, at the very same time sliding his blades back into their sheaths. Heath turned and followed Legault's gaze to the fallen Hyperion.

"Oh gods no!" Heath's heart dropped to the pit of his stomach, and he raced to the wyvern, feeling as though he were in a nightmare where everything moved too slowly. Everything around him felt surreal, like in a dream. Too real to be happening. "Hyperion!" Heath fell to his knees, throwing his arms around the heaving wyvern. An ax was imbedded in his side, two arrows protruding from his left leg. The wyvern made a pitiful noise and nuzzled Heath. "Hang on just a moment, buddy…"

Heath moved back some and looked at the wyvern through blurred eyes. Hyperion was… his everything. The two had been paired when Heath was very young, and had been inseparable since then. He couldn't bear to think what life would be without him… Assessing the damage, Heath thought it wasn't half as bad as it looked, and he willed himself to calm down. He had to removed the weapons from Hyperion. He didn't want to, but only then could he clean and heal the wounds. Heal the wounds… Heath remembered that Priscilla had said she'd brought her heal staff!

"Legault!" Heath spun around, ready to direct the man to wake her, but he saw that Legault had—typically—beaten him to it.

"Way ahead of you," Legault told him, with that eternal smile of his. Priscilla was holding her head and looking dazed, but other than that, seemed none the worse for wear.

Priscilla seemed to take stock of the situation surprisingly quickly, coming over to Heath and looking at the wyvern. "We need to pull the weapons out…" She looked like she was about to faint just looking at it, so Heath waved her away.

"I know, I'll do that. You need to get something to clean it with… And your staff."

Priscilla pulled the staff out, and then looked about them. "Where was that little stream at…?"

"I'll get the water," Legault said. Heath started to rise, protesting against it.

"No way. None of us should be alone in here right now. Who knows how many more of them are here, or if some fled and are waiting to ambush one of us alone?"

Legault put up a hand. "Don't worry about it, Heath," he said softly, though his gaze was intense. Heath closed his mouth around more protests and sank back down next to the injured wyvern. "I can take care of myself." Heath lowered his head, not sure what to do or say. "I'll be back in a moment…"

When Heath looked back up, Legault was gone. Why was there this strange clenching around his chest? Why did it seem harder to breathe? Oh, right. He was worried. Hmph. Worried about a thief/assassin like Legault… He'd never have thought Legault would have been able to fight like that. He seemed so… fragile. It seemed only one hit from an ax and he'd… Heath forced himself back into reality. Hyperion. Hurt.

He turned back to the wyvern and gently rubbed his belly. "Hey… I'm going to take these out… All right, boy?" Heath murmured soothingly at the beast as he gripped the shaft of the first arrow. At first, he thought of taking it out slowly, but then he realized that it would only prolong the pain. So he gripped the arrow's shaft tight as he could—though his palms were now slippery with sweat—and pulled it out with all the might he could muster.

Hyperion cried out in anguish, but did not so much as nip Heath. Instead, he nuzzled Heath, as if to encourage him. Heath was shaking. He didn't want to do it again. But he knew he had to.

-HL-

By the time Legault came back, he saw that Heath was on his knees, bent over the wyvern, forehead leaning on an uninjured patch of the beast's flank. His eyes were closed. On the ground beside him were the two arrows and the ax, covering in Hyperion's blood. Legault sympathized with Heath. He knew how much the man cared for his wyvern partner.

Priscilla saw Legault's approach, and quickly stood up and took the water. Legault watched wordlessly as Priscilla approached Heath and said something to him, holding out the water. Heath straightened up and took the water. He ripped off his own sleeves to dip into the water and wrung them out before applying the cool water to the wyvern's wounds.

"I'm sorry," Legault said as he drew closer. Heath looked up, surprised.

"Huh? About what?"

"If I'd taken action sooner…"

"It's not your fault," Heath said tiredly. "It's nobody's fault."

It was nice to hear that. Legault wished Heath knew how nice.

Legault took his place with his back against a tree, twirling a dagger aimlessly in one hand as Priscilla proceeded to use her Heal staff and Heath stood anxiously by. He watched as Heath looked lovingly down at Hyperion and felt an aching stir in his heart for such love to be directed at him. He wished… Well, he wished a lot of things… But he wished Heath knew… What a good man he really was. Heath obviously regarded himself as the very worst for what he'd had to do as a soldier of Bern, but Legault knew it was not true. And he wished Heath knew that, too. But Legault had a feeling that if he pointed this out, Heath would instantly be suspicious…

Hah, why, if Heath knew Legault's life story, he'd have nothing to be ashamed of. But he would probably think Legault some monster, and he wouldn't be wrong. Legault turned his gaze to a falling leaf and watched it struggle to reach the ground. With the wind blowing it about, it was having a time of it just trying to find a place to land. Legault felt a little like that leaf. Trying to find a place to land on his feet, but all the while, he was merely moving where the wind willed him.

"Thank you, Legault," Heath's voice broke into Legault's self reflection, and Legault looked at Heath, who was now standing nearer.

"For what?" Legault said with a smirk. "Killing is nothing to an ex-Black Fang!"

"No, I mean… For getting the water, and… For just being there." Heath sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. "Normally, I'd be pissed at you for being here when I was… I'd think you were stalking me or something…" Legault could tell by the expression that crossed Heath's face that he thought he had been stalking him, when actually, he'd noticed Priscilla going off on her own. "Anyway, I'm glad you were here. Otherwise…"

"Otherwise you'd have to explain to your commander why you were missing a spear and broke your precious …fighting hand," Legault teased.

"Or worse."

Wow, Heath was serious. He wasn't getting mad at his innuendo or anything. Must be a saint. At least, for the moment.

"Or worse," Legault agreed. Then he pushed himself away from the tree, giving the dagger one last twirl before sliding it back into its sheath, and took a few steps toward Heath to close the gap between them. "Let me ask you something, Heath."

"What?" Ah, there was that wary look Legault had grown to love. Sort of. It did amuse him to no end. But there was that other look that Legault liked to see more…

"What did you think I meant that day, when I said I was joking about this thing called 'love'?"

Heath had grown very quiet all of a sudden. Legault loved how he could trap Heath with only the power of his voice and his words. Heath looked off to the side. Ah! There was the look he liked to see! The one where Heath looked so unsure of himself. The look that told Legault he was hiding something… The look that said that Heath himself was denying something, trying to pretend there was nothing but irritation between them.

"I didn't give it much thought," Heath said. Legault knew he was lying, for he had seen the look. He took that half-step forward that put them close enough to embrace or to kiss. Close enough to make Heath nervous.

Predictably, Heath took a step backward. "Why do you always have to do that?" he scowled, crossing his arms.

"Always have to do… what?" Legault asked innocently.

"Twist things around like that! Make those perverted jokes!" Heath threw a hand up. "Don't you think about anything else?!"

"No. Do you?"

"Ugh!" Heath tried to turn away, as if to storm off like a prepubescent teenager, but Legault quickly attached himself to Heath's arm, cuddling close and for a moment, he even allowed himself to bury his face into the other man's chest. Ahhh… Even the scent of Heath's sweat was pure to Legault's senses.

Legault looked up at Heath, who was now attempting to walk away, hoping to lose Legault.

"Where are you going, Heath?" Legault asked, closing in. Heath tried to push Legault away, but he held fast. "Can't take a joke?"

"No!" Heath exploded, and this time when he shoved at Legault let himself be pushed. Oh, so now he was showing some anger. Well, perhaps he'd pushed him a little too far at his emotional state. "Can't you be serious for one moment?! Jeez, what's wrong with you?"

"I guess I'm just wired that way," Legault said flirtatiously. Heath, exasperated, turned, and found himself face-to-face with Priscilla. She jumped backwards, and Heath stormed past her, to his wyvern. Legault and Priscilla regarded one another.

"Do you really love him?" Priscilla asked timidly. What a question for her to ask! Legault smiled mysteriously.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Do you love him?" Legault asked.

"What a thing to ask!" Priscilla said, blushing.

"Well, you asked me."

"Yes… Yes, I did. I'm very sorry…"

"Nah. Don't be." Legault put up a hand. "We should find that horse of yours."

"H-how do you know about that?" Priscilla asked, taken aback.

"Oh, I don't know…" Legault looked about airily. "I expect it has something to do with being who I am, though."

Priscilla didn't seem to know what to make of Legault, and instead looked to Heath, who was now leading Hyperion over to them.

"Luckily, his wings are all right," Heath said, ignoring Legault as he walked past him. "Otherwise he'd still need to lie down. His wings are his weak point."

As it was, Hyperion seemed to be fine, the ax wound had turned out to be a flesh wound; the arrows had merely gave him a slight limp that would probably be gone by the end of the week.

Legault was glad about that. He didn't know if he could stay so jocular if Heath was in true pain over the death of his partner. Legault recalled all the people he'd killed… All the people who had worked, ate, slept beside him. Trusted him. And he'd turned on them, killed them because he was ordered to. Yes… Legault was not a very popular fellow in the Black Fang. Far from it. At the time, he'd told himself he'd had no choice to make himself feel better. But he was not fool enough to believe his own lies. It had only been a matter of time before he'd broken free of that life. But, was he really free from it at all?

Legault looked down at his own hands, remembering the innocents he had killed. Was he really without remorse?

Legault dredged himself from his memories and looked at Heath and Priscilla, both happily chatting away as if Legault did not exist. Would it be better if he didn't exist? Would Heath be happier that way…?

Nah. Legault couldn't give him up.

He needed him too badly.

Thanks for reviewing, you guys! I wasn't holding it hostage, I swear! Anyway, hope you enjoyed this installment—it was a lot longer than the first, sorry—and I hope you continue to give it awesome reviews and keep reading.