The march through Valm had been going on for weeks and now that Walhart had formally introduced himself and was waiting for the Shepards arrival Robin decided it would be a good time to stop at a small village nearby to rest the troops and restock on food. It wasn't much a village but it worked in their favor, none of the larger towns would have taken in a Shepard, let alone Prince Chrom for fear of Walhart's wrath – but this wasn't going to be one of those kinds of stories - no, Owain intended tonight to be much livelier. He told all of his closest comrades to meet up at the center of town next to the inn when it got dark.
Owain could remember the dark times of his past and the coming future and sometimes it would leave his palms sweaty and his mouth dry. He would see Panne in the camp reading a book and think of when Yarne had come to him, beaten and bled, crying that his mother had been taken. Those kinds of memories were hard to erase. On sadder days he would think about Lissa's death and replay the day in his head from when he awoke to when the final blade brought her down. A lesser man, one without the discipline and fortitude that Owain had sharpened to a razor fine edge, would probably go insane or at least be traumatized and unable to speak; they would be like Gerome, all jerky and untrusting and dramatically serious with their jagged masks always hiding a look of contempt and that ridiculous hoarse voice he always pretends to talk with – a hand settles lightly onto Owain's back and he lurches forward to seize his sword for combat. "Ho there, fool. You almost received a smiting of the grandest measure for that dirty trick. Do not think you will catch Owain Dark off guard again, for he was simply meditating on larger things."
Inigo raises an eyebrow in speculation and gives a snarky chuckle, "When you speak like that it must sound different in your head than in everyone else's. It must sound good."
Owain Dark is not so easily taken in, especially not by a twig like Inigo, "Yours is not the first silver tongue I have drawn verbal blades with so if you truly wish to embark upon this path I will meet you head on, but be wise friend for there is much about you I will criticize!" Inigo is not taken aback even a bit, he simply rolls his eyes and ignores the declaration, "I'd be more afraid if Lissa had been yelling at me, to be honest. A-anyway I was just coming to find Kjelle, have you seen her anywhere? Perhaps with her beautiful friend Cynthia or the equally stunning Nah?" Owain takes his ever ready hand away from his sword and puts a finger to his chin, drawing out a breath in deep thought, "perhaps you should spend less time having Kjelle force feed you your own sword and more time seeking out the adventure of life."
"There is but one adventure I wish to take part in, Owain, and it is a one man expedition through the dark forest of a woman's favor. Have you ever considered speaking to a woman or dating one, maybe it would straighten out some your obvious attention issues."
Owain blushes a bit but not enough to draw Inigo's attention. "You could never understand the yearning of a true hero. Begone with you, philanderer. Delude thineself into believing you stand a chance so your constant rejection may continue to amuse me." Owain knows he's struck right at the jugular with that comment and Inigo leaves in a hurry when he sees Severa walking out of a tent with an armful of expensive baubles. Something creeps into Owain's mind then: tonight he'll be going out for the first time with everyone now that he and Brady are – well something – and he's not quite sure what he's supposed to do. Maybe he's supposed to ignore it entirely but he doesn't really want to. He opts for the Owain usual, 'figure it out as it goes'. He knows tonight will be a challenge but not all battles take place on a battlefield.
Night comes fast and Brady finds himself in the company of Severa, Yarne, and Morgan, not because he wants to be but because he was told to be. Robin had pulled him aside before they left and asked him to keep an eye on his sister, no doubt noting the attention she had been receiving from the hare as of late. Morgan could take care of herself but Brady wasn't one to defy his parents; what would ma' say if she found out Morgan had gotten herself a little bunny love and couldn't rely on her big brother? So now he just had to stand between Morgan and Yarne, fielding Yarne's constant compliments and his sister's very direct flirting. It hadn't helped the situation that Severa had also noticed and was making jokes at every turn about the endurance of rabbits and Yarne's supposedly inherited proclivities. Brady wasn't really sure what that last word meant but he assumed it meant something sexual by the way she said it, wagging her tongue like an idiot. Brady felt an indignant heat creep up his face when he thought of his society member poking fun at his sister. Yarne dropped behind the group and came up along side of Morgan, "Promise you won't pull on my ears all night again. I don't think I can handle the emotional trauma." Morgan's titter was almost a bit scary, "Oh please, you like it – why else would you have brought yourself closer to me." Brady watches as she pulls at a not-so-reluctant Yarne's long ears and he has to bully his way between them again, "Alright you two, whaddid I say about alla that grabassin' you was doin'? At least wait 'til I'm not around." Yarne had the grace to be a little embarrassed but not Morgan who was righteously aggravated with her brother's new-found brotherly love. "He's just jealous," she says to Yarne who responds back with a small smirk not meant for her, "I didn't think he could see us with all of this Dark that surrounds him." Brady catches the meaning and turns away with a huff, "You don't know nothin' about nothin'." Morgan' curiosity tries to pry its way in but no one will say a word.
Owain finds Noire already waiting with Gerome at the statue in the center of town. He gives them a wave and shouts over, making sure to be just loud enough to draw the interest of the folks around just in case they hadn't noticed him, "Ho there, fellow heroes. Owain Dark, Hero of the Ages has arrived. Do not bow before me for by your humbled expressions I know you are acquainted with my greatness." People stare, some give critical glances but any press is good press to Owain so he can't be more pleased with himself. Noire looks a little embarrassed but gives a small wave and Gerome spits onto the floor turning to look at the nearby inn. Noire asks him about the "thing" he had to do the another night and how it went, making sure not to clue Gerome in if it can be helped. Owain assures her it went according to plan even though he knows it was a lie. Noire only spoke a little saying that her new hair color was thanks to her mother's meddling but Owain was only partly listening. A third of his mind was focusing on her, another third focusing on what he would do if Risen were to attack right now and another third wondering what Brady would be doing right now, and if risen attacked, what he would do to look really cool in front of him. Tonight was supposed to be there free night to relax but it was also a little bit of a chance for Owain to regain his confidence in front of Cry-Brady. Last time they had a moment together wasn't his finest moment, failing to bring down even a single risen in combat. Not very heroic, not very Dark. Tonight was going to be so Dark. Tonight everyone would remember Owain as being the "it" guy, number one cool, super boss. When scholars found his sacred journal and read about today they'd think, "Wow, Owain took time out of saving the world from Grima's presence to keep up the morale of his fellow soldiers and win the hearts of his people. Owain even scores mega points with the lesser-hero Brady in a totally Owain way. Man, that's original Owain." He wonders for a moment how long it would take to get "that's so Owain" to be a thing at camp and tries to remind himself to use it casually. A sprinkle here and a sprinkle there and sooner or later...
Brady's sweating in his armor, the hair on his neck wanting to stand on end when he feels Severa's hand settle onto the small of his back as they walk. She doesn't give him a look, just lets her touch linger on the small ribbing between his back plate and the top of his waste plates. He doesn't know what to do when Yarne gives him a critical glance, the gears behind his eyes jamming up at this new, conflicting information. It helps Brady, it hurts Brady; it makes him want to run away from them all and curse and thrash because he doesn't know what these feelings really are. It was easy when they were kids and he could just write it all off as friendship, when it was unassuming and he didn't need the other side of true love. Now it was harder to classify, under a microscope hard to identify; now it was darker – Darker. This adoration demanded of him, made him feel things not just in his brain but in his body and the anxiety of not being able to let those feelings out was beginning to hurt. Severa may not have known that little touch was more than flirting but to him it was a vice grip, strangling his future and crushing his past. Tears burn behind his eyes, his usual poultice when overburdened, but he can't quite let them go when he sees the rest of the group in the distance waiting for them. He takes a small breath and chants inwardly, "I'ma brave guy, I'ma tough guy, I'm not gonna' cry, I'm tougher than this crap". It works like sandbags against flood, barely containing the deluge. It's a precarious strength to rely on.
As the group collects up and "hello's" are exchanged, Gerome walks slowly towards Lucina, bracing himself for a conversation but finds that Cynthia has already engaged her. He knows now isn't the time and stands awkwardly next to them until Cynthia finally eyes him, "Gerome, what's wrong? You're even creepier than usual tonight." He snaps his head towards her and cuts her down, "Everything you say is unnecessary." Lucina gives him a disappointed glance and turns back to Cynthia who looks completely devastated. Gerome feels the shame after the righteous indignation seeps away and only when Lucina tells him he needs to "calm down and think before he speaks," is he able to breathe again. Hey, if she's still talking to him then she doesn't hate him, right?
Owain exchanges a small look with Brady and it's like they enter into battle over who's going to make that first intimate greeting. It's Owain V.S. Brady, Round 1 - FIGHT! Who was going to acknowledge it first? Owain goes up down up down left left slide and launches a devastating shrug, showing he's got time to wait. Brady's back down back up punch kick "hey," proves he's not budging. Owain's not throwing in the towel yet, not when he's got a fully charged super move, "long time no see," with a smirk on the side. Brady's hit and his energy falls down fast, he's got to go on the defensive if he wants to play cool so he crosses his arms, "yeah." Eventually everyone around gets tired of watching them stare at nothing in particular and the time runs out as they're called to the inn. It's a draw and when the scoreboard shows the score is still 0-1, Brady's previous victory hanging over Owain's head, Owain is forced to wait until later. Stupid time limits, he muses as he follows the ex-cleric into the tavern. Severa walks up behind Brady and whispers something to him before placing her hand back where it was before. Brady's hunched over, arm-crossed physique goes perfectly taut but it's the hair on Owain's neck that's raised. Owain V.S. Severa Round 1 – FIGHT!
Owain isn't sure if it's his pride that gets sucker punched or his expectations for the night. Why isn't anyone fawning over the Hero of the story while his young ward, while deserving of some attention, is getting fawned over and pawed by masses of the gentler sex? Perhaps there is some kind of spell at work here, an ethereal mask which he cannot remove but hides his true majesty. Not even the barmaid really reacted to his soliloquy about the virtue of skipping alcohol in favor of staying sharp if prowlers come. His sword hand aches for justice when Severa sidles alongside a visibly agitated Brady and he has to hold it down by his side. Noire notices and comments from across the table, "Are you feeling alright, Owain? You look a bit peeked." Owain notices that no one is paying much attention so he replies honestly, "Just a little bit confused, but the Hero of Valm can not be dissuaded from having a good time."
Owain was wrong, Brady notices, because Brady has been watching in between Severa's increasingly more direct advances. He knows that Owain is pensive, can see it in his eyes that he is calculating. While Owain was always thinking, rehearsing his next part in some larger production, he was never hesitant at acting on it when the curtains rose. It was like staring at a different person almost, one that made Brady uncomfortable with himself. He had grown to accept the flamboyance of his messy-haired friend and even begun to rely on it but this new reluctance was worrying him. It was a cycle now: Owain would be pensive which would make Brady worried, Brady's emotions wore on his sleeve which would make Owain anxious for him and therefore more pensive. Positive feedback, accelerating into infinity. Eventually something had to give or they would both go crazy. Severa took a sip from Brady's cup and then another until he was forced to acknowledge her, "Yo, you got your own, quit takin' mine. I ain't made-a money, you know? Quit bein' a pest." Severa gave a confident laugh and took another sip. Brady didn't have time for games, Yarne and Morgan were givin' each other cutesy eyes and he was about to wreck that rabbit if he didn't stop tom-cattin' on his sister. Brady stands up to step away for the moment, afraid he'll say something he'll regret but Severa puts an arm on his and pulls him back down.
Owain watches her with a mix of emotions boiling in his gut. Envy, rage, discipline, humility, possessiveness mixed with humiliation, things he shouldn't have to acknowledge are gurgling their way into his throat like bile. When Brady comes to his chair with a yank and begins groaning at Severa, Owain finds himself there, somehow out of his seat and over to them in the blink of an eye, so fast Severa doesn't even finish her sentence. He puts a hand on Brady's shoulder and pulls him along, out of the main hall and into the hallway where they have a moment of quiet. He felt eyes sticking to him as he dragged a bewildered Brady away without so much as an explanation but he didn't owe anything to anyone, especially not Severa who couldn't catch a hint. "Do you want me to say something to her?"
Brady can feel the slightest bit of itching behind his eyes and he knows it's a mix of aggravation and excitement. He shakes his head and whispers, making sure no one is around, "Whatcha' gonna' tell her, that if she don't stop you're gonna' throttle her? I can take care-a myself." He feels a little guilty for being so brash and continues in shame, "Plus, I'm supposed to be keepin' Yarne off my sister, so I gotta' just deal with it while I babysit them. Tonights the pits."
Owain smiles, finally able to right himself again when they're next to each other and away from the loud conversations and music. "Worry not, He who guards the lady's virtue, for I will protect your sibling from Yarne's groping hands and you from the onslaught of Severa, the beast with 100 arms." Brady hunches over with his back to the wall, "She's only got two it just feels like she's all over me because she won't get gone." Owain steps closer and Brady glances up from the floor to meet him. He can see the scar on Brady's face twist with his aggravation but it isn't off-putting, it's actually kind of exciting. His hair goes on end like Brady's was when he thinks about how "scary" it is. It's really a hero thing, that Owain should be the one to see past that abrasive side to the man behind it. There is more there then just that scar, there are memories. Memories of when Maribelle passed away when Brady was just a child, memories of Lissa holding Brady, looking brave on the outside but crying on the inside. Times when Brady and he would run from sunrise to sunset so they could get stronger, vowing to protect Lissa and Gaius in a way they couldn't have protected Maribelle. That same pain and determination was inscribed in every worry line on Brady's young face and Owain could not replace his hurt with courage but he could stand by him. Maybe that was the catalyst for his feelings now, or maybe it was the heroic challenge, or one million other things. Brady gives him a curt, "What?" impatient with the way Owain is staring at him without speaking. "Nothing. Just thinking about what things were like before we came here. You've changed a lot."
Brady can remember those times too and he does his best to block them out. He doesn't want to remember being weak, failing his mother and the tragedy of his father. He has done his best to block those memories out, to assume they're actually dreams now that he's in the past and changing all of that. Has he really changed? He doesn't feel like that, but Owain's eyes tell him he has. "I'm still the same guy, just a little braver than I was back then. Stop givin' me that look, it's makin' me feel all squirrely."
Owain leans in to seize the moment. Backing Brady into a corner was just the set-up, now was the time for action. They share a small kiss, reluctant from Brady's side where his mind is still thinking about the past. Sword hand won't stay still and he is forced to yield to its curiosity, probing along the breaks in the armor for the weave of dense fabric which hid pale skin beneath. Owain hadn't gotten this far yet but he was ready now; then something in the back of his mind rationally reminds him that eventually they would come looking and this isn't how he wanted to be found. He pulls away and Brady interjects with a whine, "Why ya' always pullin' this kind of stuff on me and then leavin' me high and dry? You're drivin' me nuts, man." Owain gives him a serious look and swordhand settles over his eye, "They will come searching for us soon, we must save this for later. Do not worry, sidekick. Your knight is not leaving your side."
Heat sits under Brady's skin and his body aches. He's scared and excited again, those emotions from before mixing with these new ones and he doesn't know how to settle them. In his stomach a war begins and threatens to consume him if he doesn't settle down soon. He sees Owain's reddened face and reaches for it with one large hand but finds only air when Owain shakes his head and pulls him back out towards their party. It isn't where he wants to be, and in fact he feels more angry now then anything. He wants to go back to camp, settle his mind by seeing that Maribelle and Robin are still there then hide in Owain's tent and settle his body by moving forward with his feelings. He's scared, and his mind tells him he really probably wouldn't make the first move but he knows he might have to if Owain keeps doing this back and forth thing. It's like him to be like that, to change his mind and play it aggressively cool. If there was an audience he knew they would think Owain was cool right now. It leaves Brady eager for more and he knows Owain designed it to be like that which makes him honestly a bit excited just to be part of the production.
Gerome and Lucina are gone from table, talking outside in front of the Inn, or whatever you call an interaction with the silent Gerome to be. Owain sees how Severa reacts when Brady doesn't sit down next to her again and he smiles at her sneer. He wants to gloat, to say he gets to see that other side of Brady she doesn't but he wouldn't. Morgan and Yarne have separated and now she's speaking with Inigo and Kjelle as they sip something dark from a large stein but it doesn't mean Yarne isn't watching. Wherever Cynthia had snuck off to was a mystery and Noire is just sitting alone, drawing lightly on the scratched wooden table with her finger. Owain speaks up to get her attention but feels a hand settle on his thigh under the table top and the words sit dead in his throat. He turns his head covertly and finds Brady watching from the corner of his eye but staring at his sister. His hand pats lightly along his knee and slides slowly toward his hip, warming his pants and the skin below to an unbearable temperature hotter than the desert. To an undiscerning eye Brady looks miserable at that table, hunched over with his hands in his lap but Owain knows he's smiling in his own scarred way. It's "scary" but it's Brady. It requires no courage to do this hidden thing but he knows it's asking a lot of his friend. As that hand settles on his hip bone and drifts underneath the buckles and waistband of his belt to tease along the top of his small clothes Owain knows that Brady has changed, has grown stronger. He envies that and almost begins to see the score as 0-2 but when Severa glances over and gives them a scrutinizing look he can't help but smile and take a little pride in knowing he's helped stoke that courage. He's changed also, become a little more humble in Brady's presence. It's only fair though, that he should learn and grow. Brady is a hero also, a cry-baby of a hero but a hero none the less, and he can learn from a hero.
He knows Brady won't go too far, won't drift inside and feel anything worth the effort but that's alright because Owain Dark makes the moves, not – and then Brady does. It's just a casual touch that ends quickly but Owain sweats anyway and when he glances a bit too obviously over at Brady he sees him smirking and knows that he isn't so afraid anymore. His body tightens, nerve endings sparking all over his body. Like a network of lit firecrackers, his senses begin to fire all at once and it's like every place along his skin rises to the surface and gasps for air at once. From his pelvis to his spine to his brain and back, everything is bright and feels sharp.
A small snicker rings through the air and the boys glance over at Yarne who's watching them from his chair. He smiles, raising his eyebrows twice at their touching and Brady instantly retracts his hand and barks out, "You still don't know nothin'." Yarne opens his mouth to speak but Brady roars again, "Shuddap!" before standing up and stomping out of the inn. Owain smiles over at Yarne. He knows he'll go calm down Brady in a second and he'll have to deal with that jerk Gerome listening in like he always does...but right now he just wants to gloat a bit. Severa catches eyes with him again and he can tell she's thinking something – what it is he can't say but it doesn't matter. He just smiles at her and runs his sword hand through his hair. Not all battles are won on the battlefield.
