Authors: Xan and Vallen
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: This story involves Marth and Roy in a relationship with one another, and other yaoi/slash/shounen ai themes. So if you have a problem with that, violence or torture, go read another fic. Also, we highly suggest that you read the first Fubuki no Kaen before starting this. Original characters.
Disclaimer: The characters of Marth and Roy, plus "Altea," do not belong to us. We just use them for our pleasure.
Feedback: Yes. (That means we would love to hear from you and what you think.)
Notes:
Vallen: Another LONG-ASS chapter ahead! I hope we're not spoiling you…
Xan: see the end of the chapter
Thanks to: Evui (Sorry again! But yes, Roy should really really really burn them, but he can't right now… Maybe later.), Caranril (XD "The true angst comes from waiting for you guys to update" …. I like that. You're funny!), MintyDreams7 (If you knew it all along, you are very smart! gives you an award Unspeakable zombie things… Yummy.), Deity of Sorrow (Thank you very much! Oh, and we're glad someone else mourns Cloud's passing.), pannybaby123 (If you read this and you want to cry.. are we doing a good job? ), Persian Kittie (Never forgive us? Gagh… Oh, and this is in medieval times… Girls were married off at young ages, remember? There was no "legal" age back then.), tikimoof (clapclap Congrats, then, if you knew Trave and Gaimen were coming back! XD Don't worry, we don't describe anything too icky.), RavenGhost (Thank you very much! sniff We liked Cloud too… But sadly, all good things must come to an end.), Crocgirl (XD Yes, they're back and there's nothing you can do about it! Mehehe.), The Owner of TO (blink what does your username stand for? But undead people are so fun!), Ice Prince Marth ( Cool username. And thank you very much for reading faithfully!), LiL PriNCeSs Me (Three chapters in a row? Fun! Well, here's another one for you!), Demon Cat Fury (Are you still grounded? Jeez!), Star Twilight (Hey, a new reviewer! Thanks a bunch for your nice comments and noticing what hard work we put into this!), bladegryphon (sniff I know, it's sad that Cloud's dead, but… Ack, we're really sorry for the wait! We don't mean to kill you!), Raiknii (. Thank you very much for putting us on your Author Alert.), PikaPower (Check at the bottom of this chapter for how to get the link! Thanks for the zombie compliment… We 3 them.), Sinnatious (Characteristically cruel? chuckle I think that's the point, to make it seem even more hopeless than FNOK1… How are the dear boys going to get out of this one? Hope you enjoy the action in this chapter! There's a little bit of magic, but a lot more to come in the finale. Thanks so much!), Rayestar Ikina (Aw, you ended up being the 3rd person to review, but that's okay! Aww… We regret to inform you that there will be no FNOK3.), Jennie (You knew about Gwen and Marth? Wow! Yeah, you're right Roy understands Marth's duties as king…), and Sword Master Jeff (Don't worry, we don't take it the wrong way! We know that we're lazy and we deserve being scolded! Well, if chapter 9 was the best chapter yet, we must work hard to surpass that one!).
"You are not my lover!" Marth's lip curled with utter contempt at the Necromancer who possessed his Roy's body. He drew back from the fray, Roy's blood trickling down Falcion's long length and dripping from the razor-tipped point. Roy had wounded him as well, but it was but a shallow scratch, so he could ignore the red slowly oozing from the wound.
Marth's face became bone-pale, the blood draining from it like rain running down a pane of glass. He knew his body was growing very cold, but he didn't feel it, nor did he see the ice-blue aura that was enveloping him. Icicles formed on Falcion, turning the one blade into many, all razor sharp.
"How dare you return from your rightful place, you scum-sucking, maggot-feeding pile of wretched filth?" Marth hissed at his uncle, all the resentment from years and years of abuse returning tenfold. His sadistic uncle, who had turned the court against him, banished him and Roy from the country and who had abused him for countless years as a child was now back from the dead, a noose still hanging around his neck to bear testament to how he had died.
The true King of Altea bared his teeth, hatred filling his every pore.
"We will send you back to hell."
"We?" Roy echoed once he had recovered from being knocked off his horse.
"What makes you say we?" He picked himself up from the ground, panting from the energy it took to heave himself up on his feet, with his wound burning ice cold the way it was. He managed a bitter laugh and summoned his powers to regenerate the broken skin on his side.
Gaimen gave Marth a look of pure evil and dismounted, walking over and standing at the younger man's side. He slung a casual arm over the shoulder of the Necromancer in Roy's body.
"I do think it's time for you to see the sights of hell, Marth," He sneered.
"I quite agree." Trave walked over to where Roy and Gaimen were standing and lifted Roy's chin with a skeletal finger to press his decayed lips to Roy's soft-skinned cheek. "He still tastes as good as ever, pretty Pet. But I have a feeling that you knew that, didn't you?"
Bile rose in Marth's throat, causing it to burn from the acidity, but he could not hide his revulsion. Trave, the once-beautiful sadist was now little more than a skeleton held together by ligaments and tendons.
"You make me sick. Even more than you did before." Marth said quietly, his eyes fixated not on Trave's hideous form, but on Gaimen's arm on his lover's shoulder.
With absolutely no warning, Marth spurred the animal beneath him into a breakneck gallop, right towards the monstrous trio. Falcion, the sharp-bladed sword, shone blue as he swung it towards his two resurrected enemies.
"I'll be sure to take you to hell with me!" He drove his sword deep into Gaimen's chest, cleaving a gigantic hole in the zombie-king's dead body.
At first it seemed as if Gaimen was groaning in pain, but then he was laughing. He was laughing loudly and obnoxiously, reaching out to feel the empty space occupying his useless lung cavity.
The auburn-haired general clenched his sword tightly, side-stepping away from Trave subtly.
"You fool. Why do you think I have occupied this body? My zombies can be torn to pieces, but their un-dead flesh lives on, ready for me to put back together again. You must burn them to be rid of them for good, Marth. Did you not think that I would seek to control this body that controls fire?"
He beckoned for Gaimen and Trave to mount their horses once again and did so himself.
"Now, shall we see them in action?" The Necromancer waved one finger, which set the zombie warriors running towards the Altean troops. He maneuvered his horse so that he was watching from the sidelines, a twisted grin upon his face.
"You may think that you've won, but you underestimate me, Necromancer." Marth growled quietly, just barely audible as the Altean troops rushed out to meet the zombie hoards, led by General Hadrian in Roy's stead.
He seized Falcion and swung the blade in a mighty blow, aiming for Roy's chest.
"You should know that I won't hesitate to strike at any foe who stands before me!" Instantly, the Necromancer tightened his legs around the horse and held onto the saddle to prepare for the blow. He took it well, but his torso was forced backwards- the loud crack of a vertebra was heard.
"This body..." He hissed. "Is weak and only useful for it's powers of fire and healing..."
As he spoke, the body began to glow soft orange as it healed itself slowly, a sign that his healing powers were beginning to fade- He had healed one near-fatal wound already.
"Gaimen! Trave! Make yourselves useful! There's an army that is in need of a command, if you hadn't noticed!" Roy growled at his subordinates, forcing them away. He switched the reins into one hand and the other burst into flames. "Now Marth... Let's see how good you are against this fire in the hands of a master mage!"
The blood bay beneath Marth shied away from the fire- this horse wasn't as well trained nor as accustomed to magic as Cloud had been. That put him at yet another disadvantage.
The shrieks of soldiers being wounded and dying and the sharp clank of metal against metal filled the air of the battlefield, but Marth heard nothing, save for his own pulse pounding in his ears, the breathing of the horses and the Necromancer's own snide voice.
Marth's eyes narrowed, studying his opponent. The Necromancer had placed great faith in the knowledge that Marth would have difficulty fighting his lover, but there was his mistake. In Marth's mind, the real Roy would prefer to be dead rather than possessed and forced to be used as a weapon against everything he held dear, king, partner and country. Roy's healing power was dying. Marth knew that it either meant that Roy would die if the battle went on long enough, or that Marth could be killed by sheer vulnerability if the battle ended too quickly. He knew that he had to stall and injure the Necromancer as much as he could or he wouldn't stand a chance.
Not answering the Necromancer's barb, Marth pointed Falcion at the ground near the evil mage's horse. In the flash of an eye, the ground was covered in a thick layer of ice that was rapidly climbing up the legs of the animal itself. The terrified horse tried to buck, but it was frozen in place and all it could do was pitch and toss its head frantically, whinnying shrilly with fright, eyes rolling madly. Within a few seconds, the animal was completely covered and the ice was beginning to climb up the Necromancer's body as well.
By the time the evil mage had time to react- He had been busy trying to calm his horse down and keeping himself from being bucked off- it was too late. His body was glued to the saddle and his torso was quickly becoming fully encased in the ice. Roy's blue eyes flashed dangerously, fire within them, but he could not contain the shivers (and the dark presence of the Necromancer) that controlled his body.
"So... Cold..." Roy whispered, closing his eyes.
The Necromancer took over again.
"Honestly, what kind of game are you playing here? This is just one of the bodies that I have under my control, one of the many you will have to defeat in order to fight me. And you'll probably be dead with your armies defeated by that time," He managed before the ice climbed up his neck and invaded his face. "Ice can melt."
Marth could see that already the ice was starting to sweat from the intense heat that it was covering up, trying to mask and contain. But fire could not be contained for long.
"And fires can be extinguished." Marth slashed at Roy's body, silently asking forgiveness from his frozen lover for what he was doing to him. "The game I'm playing concerns more than you'll ever know. It concerns love, faith and a promise saying that I would always fight for the death for something. Be it my lover, my country or both!"
Roy's blood sprayed out from between the cracks in the ice that Falcion had made, tiny geysers of crimson from a silver shell. "Even if I have to die to reclaim all that or to keep my promise, I will never surrender to you."
The frozen figure of the general on the horse began tremble and shake, the air around it growing hotter and hotter. The temperature rose until there was a loud explosion - Chunks of raw flesh splattered everywhere, with puddles of blood mixed with ice on the ground. Marth was covered in it, his face painted red.
Roy was laying facedown, panting wildly with the effort it took to explode the ice casing. The veins in his neck jumped and he clenched his fist, forcing his sluggish healing powers to work. He growled menacingly and jerked his head up to stare at Marth, blood trickling from his forehead and down his face. The general picked up his sword and hauled himself up.
"You want to fight to the death? Well, let's do it."
Marth tasted Roy's blood on his lips, ignoring the conflicting emotions that the salty metallic tang brought forth from inside of him.
"Let's, Necromancer."
Falcion hummed in his hands, a testament to the sword's power as he swung the enchanted blade towards his enemy, aiming for Roy's already injured abdomen.
The Necromancer found that the body was quite cold and refused to work at the fast pace he wanted to push it to, but he managed to bring up his sword and block what might have been the fatal blow.
"For once, I tire of playing the defense."
He dug in and attacked, whirling his own blade as fast and as skillfully as he could. The dark mage's style of fighting was quite different than Roy's hard and heavy approach. He had a style that surpassed Marth's own.
A growl formed in Marth's throat and he blocked the Necromancer's sleek attack, just barely registering the ominous man's intent before it was too late. The Necromancer had shifted tactics abruptly, from pure magic versus magic to the subtle art of swordplay. But Marth had been an expert swordsman long before he had been a mage, so he was fairly confident on this playing field, even if the Necromancer's technique was more advanced.
Using his magic, he willed Falcion to bend like a snake and wrap itself around the Necromancer's own blade the next time they came into contact. He forced the other down, he and the Necromancer looking eye to eye.
The master of the dead grunted and tried to wrench his sword from the tight hold.
"I'm beginning to dislike this body..." He growled, starting to twist the blade in an effort to dislodge it. "It is weak and smaller than yours... Which is my disadvantage that you have chosen to use against me."
He jumped away, dropping his sword after seeing that it was useless to recover it from Marth. After tapping into his powers, he began to reach into Marth's mind.
"Your friend did not bother to learn how to shield his mind from other outside magic. How about you, young mage?"
Marth slammed his mental shields down as hard as he could, but it wasn't fast enough to block the Necromancer's black-tendriled probe that was snaking deep into the inner recesses of his mind.
He was paralyzed where he stood, the alien feeling of a dark force invading him.
'STOP!' He screamed, trying to force the Necromancer out. He saw visions, Roy dead, Cloud dead, Gwen's pale face as he asked her to bear his child and during what happened after. Gaimen hanging dead in the noose, and then winking up at him with an evil smirk.
'Get out, you demon!'
'Demon? Who, me? I'm merely a mage much like yourself. So that makes you a demon and Roy a demon? Oh yes, and the coward Rowen Wyndburne too. Your entire mind is at my disposal... What shall I do with it, Your Highness?'
Roy stepped closer, a little wobbly because of the extensive damage that he had suffered. The dark, sinister light in his eyes glowed even brighter than before.
'Give up your powers to me and it will all end. No more blood, no more fighting... The countries will all be united under one, single power and there will be peace.'
The words, intended by the Necromancer to be soothing, convincing only inflamed Marth's rebellious icy spirit even more.
'If you think that I'm going to surrender my powers or my country to a wretch like you, then your mind reading powers are severely decayed!'
Marth formed a long spear of ice and swung it at the Necromancer's head, watching as ice connected with skull with a loud crack.
"Well done..." The dark mage rasped. "The best way to get rid... of a problem... is to go to... the source..." His knees buckled and he fell to the bloody ground. It didn't look like he was going to get up any time soon.
Marth stood back, panting from the effort that it had taken to keep the Necromancer from raping his mind. The ice spear remained in his hand, blood still spattered on it. He hurled it into the back of a zombie soldier who had been near him, causing the corpse to be disabled at least temporarily. His eyes turned to Roy's body lying motionless on the ground.
"I'm sorry, Roy..." He lifted his partner up and called his horse, climbing on and holding Roy in front of him.
'Rowen, meet me when I return. I've got Roy.' He thought to his mentor, riding swiftly to the castle.
Hoards of zombies surged after Marth, but the horse was faster. Once the King got past his first line of defense, he was home free to the castle. The gates opened for him and there was Rowen, dressed in dark, neutral-colored robes.
"Rowen, I need your help..." Marth slid off the horse, pulling Roy's lifeless body with him. "I don't know what to do with him..."
"Don't worry about it," Rowen answered quickly in a flat voice, taking Roy easily in his arms. He frowned and felt the young general's body temperature. "Just do what you have to do and I'll take care of him."
The old mage took Roy's hand and concentrated, creating a medium-sized fire when he combined the fire mage's power with his own. He set Roy down next to it and began to work.
"Have to... have.. to..." Roy mumbled, his bloodstained lips moving just barely.
"C'mon Boy, snap out of it. I know you can..."
Roy's eyes opened slowly, his head spinning dangerously, and he rolled over onto his side to throw up what was left in his stomach. He barely felt Rowen's cool hand upon his brow, and the magic that was exchanged.
"The Necromancer will not control your mind again..." The weather mage said quietly, leaving Roy to sort himself out.
The auburn-haired young man stared at the fire, reaching out and touching it.
"Have to tell Marth..."
The King of Altea was standing off to the side, feeling helpless and unable to help his lover. He possessed no skill of healing, not even marginally and was not as experienced in the transfer of magic energies as Rowen was. But the sound of Roy saying his name again, even faintly was enough to give him hope again.
"What is it Roy? What do you have to tell me?" He asked, crouching down beside the fire, looking into Roy's face.
Roy stared right through Marth, his lower lip trembling.
"They... Trave, Gaimen... They're here... I have to tell him... And... I have to tell him that I love him..."
Marth felt his heart break and he reached out to touch Roy's face with a calloused hand.
"I'm right here, Roy."
Roy's shoulders shook, but he did not cry.
"I'm so sorry... I... I knew this was going to happen, but all I could think of was getting you back to the castle..."
"Roy, it's all right..." Marth moved so that his arm was around Roy's shoulders. "He's gone for now. You and I can fight together like we're meant to, not against each other."
The general trembled, overwhelmed with fatigue and did not answer. He was tired of fighting, but did not want to admit it. Rowen glanced over at Marth from above, coughing to get his attention.
"Maybe you should both get inside..."
Marth nodded, glancing over at Roy.
"I think that's a very good idea right now." He didn't realize that he was tired as well and bleeding from numerous wounds, though luckily not as serious as Roy's had been.
He picked Roy up. "Roy, just relax. I'm going to take you somewhere to rest." The king carried his general out of the infirmary and into the castle, taking him up to Roy's own room. Hopefully the familiar surroundings would help Roy recover from his ordeal. Marth placed Roy in his bed and kissed his forehead.
"You don't ha-have to patronize me, Marth..." Roy groaned hoarsely, pressing a sheet to one of his larger wounds. He was already staining the bed, and with his powers the way they were, he could not heal himself as quickly. "I shouldn't be in bed... My men... they're dying... And you, you're hurt..."
Marth retrieved the extra bandages that Roy kept in his quarters in case of an emergency and began to dress the wound skillfully.
"The best thing that you could do right now is rest, Roy. You can't lead the men in this shape, even if you weren't dead tired. And my wounds aren't that bad - I can get someone else to bandage them, it's alright."
The general sat up, pushing himself up against the headboard with his eyes downcast.
"If you go, I go," he stated firmly. "I would follow you to the end of the world and back if it meant protecting you at all costs."
Marth reached out a hand to touch Roy's face, forcing his partner to look up at him.
"Alright, Roy. I don't want to fight without you at my side."
Roy's throat constricted and he tried to keep down the rising lump in his throat. He leaned forward so that he was embracing his ruler as tightly as he could.
"I don't want to lose you..."
There was a series of sharp knocks at the door and the general pulled away abruptly with a loud groan. He rolled over onto his non-injured side, panting heavily. Whoever it was could not see him like this...
"Come in..." He rasped loudly.
To his surprise, a couple of his higher ranked officials strode in, looking worried. The battlefield was more treacherous than they had thought- That coupled with the scare of having to fight the undead was enough to shake a man out of his boots.
"Please forgive our intrusion, Your Highness... General, we regret to inform you that General Hadrian has perished in battle," the more composed of the two said, stuttering a little.
Roy's eyes widened, and he stared down at the floor again with his mind racing faster than any horse.
"Call everyone to retreat back towards the city. I have an idea."
The king of Altea's blue eyes darted from his general to the subordinates. Hadrian dead... he didn't feel as if he could take any more bad news. But Roy's statement made his brows knit with curiosity. What did Roy have in mind now? He knew that his lover was a brilliant general and he now hoped that the auburn-haired teen had an idea that would somehow miraculously turn the battle to their favor.
"What's in your head, Roy?"
Roy took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in his throat, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He supported himself by keeping a hand on one of the four posts that made up his bed.
"Now that I'm back, I have to regroup with my men... They need to know what I know about the army we're up against. But I can't have them retreat to the castle and leave our territory unguarded. This will take a great deal of magic on our part, but it will buy us time if it works. Your Highness, once all the soldiers are within the city gates, you must create a ring of ice around the entire city. Then I will make a ring of fire on the outside of that. The ice will protect the city inwardly and the fire will protect the city outwardly because the zombies cannot pass it without getting burned."
"Roy, do you have the strength to make a wall that size, much less maintain it?" Marth wasn't criticizing Roy's plan - indeed he thought it to be a very good one - but he was concerned for his general's physical well being. "I'm game for it, but I don't want you to kill yourself doing this. If you deplete your magical power, it draws directly from your life-force, remember?"
"I'm not out to kill myself, unlike Mr. Martyr here," the general stared straight past Marth to his two men. He felt hypocritical giving orders from his bedside, but that was the best he could do at the time. "What are you waiting for? Do as I say!"
The soldiers picked up their feet and scurried out the door. There was a loud creak a moment later as Rowen stood in the doorway, silent.
Marth found that he couldn't look his old master in the eye, even though he wasn't quite sure what the reason was. He bowed his head, shifting to face Roy and not the door.
"Hello Rowen."
Rowen stepped inside and shut the door quietly. He glanced at Marth for a moment, and then eyed Roy. His face was more serious than they had ever seen it before.
"I heard your plan and think it's the best thing we can do right now. You need to get up to the tallest tower and perform the spells from there," He stated. "I also will be accompanying Roy."
The general felt the back of his neck prickle and burn with embarrassment.
"I don't need anyone's help, Rowen!"
The amethyst color of the weather mage's eyes grew darker.
"I don't think you could walk a few paces from that bed if you tried. Stop being so defensive. I did shield your mind, but that doesn't mean that you have to shield your emotions as well."
Roy looked away, glaring at the floor.
Wisely, Marth decided to step between the two easily angered men before tempers flared and the situation somehow became worse.
"...Roy, Rowen's idea is wise. If we're going to put this plan into action, we need to do it soon before the Necromancer does something else even worse." He paused and looked at Rowen. "Rowen, how much lightning are you able to conjure?"
"Oh, as much as you need me to," Rowen responded casually, going over to Roy and helping him to his feet. The young general was stubborn, but did not refuse the support.
Eyes narrowed thoughtfully, Marth chewed on a fingernail.
"If you could summon all the lightning you could and send it down to strike all the zombies, you could set quite a few of them on fire and make the odds at least a little less stacked against us."
"That's not a bad idea," Rowen answered. The three of them exited the room quickly and hurried up the winding stairs to the tallest tower. Their feet made hollow, scraping sounds against the stones, but it was nothing compared to the noises of war beyond the castle. Once they were at the highest point, they stood out on the balcony and surveyed the land.
The Altean army was being crushed, but they were retreating as per Roy's orders. Meanwhile, the zombie army was following them as they retreated further and further.
"Rowen, strike all the zombies near the main gates. We can't let any of them get in." Roy's voice was hard and tight, but his heart pounded as he watched his men dash inside the protecting walls of the castle. The people screamed and cried out in surprise, but made room for the Altean forces. A loud crack sounded through the air as Rowen let go of the general and raised his hands to the air.
Energy began to crackle through the air and a fierce wind blew all around the older mage, causing his hair and robes to move about. Down below, lightning struck the undead soldiers, stopping them from entering the gates, which closed with a loud boom.
"There... Marth and Roy, go ahead." The weather mage only looked a little exhausted as he moved to the side.
Marth closed his eyes and gathered the power from all around... the air, the earth, the sky... All of nature held magic that could be tapped into, as long as you didn't go too deep and try to harness too much. Usually Marth tried to rely on his own inner power, but he figured that since the Necromancer was destroying the land as well as the people, it would be fine just this once.
Fingertips glowing a shade of blue somewhere between royal and ice and eyes blazing the same color, Marth raised his hands above his head and traced a large circle.
'Work, damn you... I command you to do as I say...' He ordered the magic. And the magic obeyed.
Slowly, a ring of ice formed around the entire city, about sixty feet from the outer wall. It grew slowly, rising from the earth, a milky translucent barricade stretching six men high. The side facing the city was covered in icicle spikes, long enough and sharp enough to impale any man foolish enough to try to get through the barrier. In contrast, the outward side was as smooth and slick as glass, absolutely impenetrable and impossible to climb. While Marth was sure that it wouldn't stop them forever, it would hopefully deter them, along with Roy's wall of fire.
Roy leaned over the edge and surveyed Marth's work. It was excellent... He could only hope to make something as perfect as that. Using that bit of competitiveness to fuel him, he took a deep breath and reached inside of himself. The young general found the fire that burned brightly and brought it out for all to see.
"Step back! I don't want to burn you!" He yelled before his violent brand of magic unleashed itself, enveloping his body and extending towards the wall.
Now Roy had always found it easy to start a fire, but once it got going... It took most of his energy to try and control it. He knew his body was covered in flames, the scorching tongues licking up his perspiration and anxious for more energy... Which he readily gave, now concentrating on the wall he was about to build. As quickly as Rowen's lightning struck the enemies did Roy's wall leap up to unimaginable heights, burning ferociously. But it was out of control, spreading in ways he couldn't have foreseen. It spread inward, attacking the wall of ice.
A hand was at the back of his neck and he felt a burst of power, clearing his mind.
"You're not done yet." Rowen's voice brought him out of his fiery cocoon. The older mage ignored his skin being scorched by Roy's fiery body.
"A-Ah..." Roy gasped in acknowledgement, narrowing his eyes. He let out a loud yell and brought the fire to a neat halt, enclosing it in a ring like he had set out to do. The general blacked out for a second, and opened his eyes to find himself sitting on the fire-scorched ground. He let go of the fire within him, his task done for the moment.
Marth leaned down and placed a cool hand on Roy's fiery hot cheek.
"Very well done... Both those barriers will be sure to impede them, at least for a little while. That was an excellent plan, Roy." He paused. "Now we can't do anything but wait until Gaimen, Trave and the Necromancer make their next move."
"Don't say those names." Roy struggled to his feet and leaned heavily against the wall. He held a hand to the wound in his side, as if he was trying to shove the pain back inside his body and tried to reassure himself that it was only temporary until his healing powers were restored. "I've had enough of dealing with them and I don't wish to think about them any longer!"
He stopped, biting his lip nervously. It seemed that all he had been doing was snapping at Marth- And after all the King had gone through to rescue him, it hardly seemed fair.
Roy's harsh words slid off the protective layer that surrounded Marth's heart. Yes, it was still there - a few years wouldn't be able to erase a lifetime of abuse, but it had been chipped away at by Rowen, Gwen, and most importantly by Roy, although there was enough left to safeguard it from the general's stinging comments.
"We have to think of them since they're our enemies. I'll be down in my study, trying to think of more strategies." With that, he turned and left.
The general felt like crying right then. He felt like flinging himself over the edge, down back to the enemy where it had been less painful. The pain had been nonexistent when they had been on opposite sides. He stood up and looked downwards... Hopefully Marth was friendlier than the ground.
"I'm going to take charge of the army before I fall over," He told Rowen, and then limped off.
The emotions that flooded within him were too much to bear, and yet he did not feel like closing them off. It kept him sane and reminded him of all the hard work Marth went through to free his mind. In the end, was it all worth it? Did they come this far to have the Necromancer suddenly show up and sweep them all off their feet?
Some questions just aren't worth answering.
'Roy... Come down to me.' Marth called to his partner softly, sensing Roy's pain and hurt. He was hurting too, deep inside. Hurting from the long separation, still hurting from the loss of Cloud, everything that he was putting Rowen and Gwen through, the loss of his peoples' lives... Everything. He needed Roy right now. He needed the fiery touch... Roy's common sense... 'Lover... Come to me please... I need you right now.'
They were ready for battle. They now knew what they were really up against. They knew they were probably going to die. That didn't settle too well in Roy's stomach and he had even stopped to hurl what little was in his stomach in some bushes on his way back to the castle. The whole affair with his army- having to explain where he had been and what he had been doing, then briefing them on the battle to come- had taken over an hour. He stayed until one of his lesser commanders suggested that he go back inside to rest.
Out of habit he went straight to his room first, ignoring Marth's call. Then he poked his head out of the room to make sure no one was watching, and crept as quietly as he could to Marth's chambers. After shutting the door quietly, the young general stood there on wavering balance as if waiting for permission to approach any further.
Marth was sitting in a chair, his legs dangling over one arm. He was staring out the window, his hair falling into his face and to his shoulders, unhampered by the coronet that was sitting on the table beside him. Snow was falling outside, but just for this window. The snow calmed him down, made him feel more relaxed. He probably shouldn't have wasted his power on it, but what good is magic if you couldn't indulge yourself just a little?
He was perfectly aware that Roy was waiting for a sign, so he gave one, shifting in his seat to look over at his general.
"Come in," he called softly.
The King was tired. He had been pushing his body to every physical and magical limit; riding back and forth all over his country, building walls, grieving, battling... It felt as if it would never end. He wondered if Roy would understand- if Roy could understand... all that he had gone through while the younger man had been under the nefarious influence of the Necromancer. But Marth would never give up, would never allow his spirit to fold under and yield to evil. He would not be defeated.
"This is it, Marth..." Roy rasped hoarsely. He took a step closer, and then faltered. His legs were frozen to the spot, horrified at the thoughts in his head. "I was with them... I saw what they wanted to do to us... I saw the end..."
"Roy..." Marth got out of the chair and went to the young general, holding Roy's wrists gently. He touched Roy's face, feeling the heat radiating from the skin. Something... these thoughts had truly disturbed him.
"Show me what you saw." Marth ordered quietly.
The general's eyes widened.
"No, I can't... I don't want it to happen that way. I don't want you to..." He leaned forward and repositioned Marth's hands so that they were wrapped loosely around his waist. "You saved me, but now we have to fight no matter what. For once in my life, I don't want to lead the battle. I have no words of encouragement for my men and they can see right through me..."
His hands tightened a little on Roy's waist in a comforting sort of gesture and he looked down into his general's eyes, seeing the fear there and saddened by it.
"...I will lead the soldiers to battle."
"No! I can't let you go out there alone! What if He shows up? You're not up to your full strength either- What if he challenges you? What if you lose?" Roy let out a soft, short moan as he closed the short distance between their bodies, burying his face in Marth's shoulder. He was drowning in a world of What ifs.
A gentle hand on Roy's soft hair reassured the general, or at least Marth hoped so. He stroked the silky blood-colored tresses, wanting to calm Roy's fears, although they coincided with his own.
"Roy... Roy, don't be afraid - I'm not. I believe that if we remain strong together, we can win this. I won't leave you, Roy. I love you too much to ever leave you."
"I wish that was enough."
By that time, words had long escaped Roy's lips and he just stood there, rocking slightly in a soothing motion with the young king. Exhaustion caught up with him and he fell asleep on his feet.
Marth picked up Roy gently, cradling his younger partner in his arms as he walked over to his bed and set the general in it. He hadn't gotten the chance to tell Roy about Gwen or Cloud for that matter, but this was fine - Roy was tired and needed the sleep. He sat on the bed with him, Roy's head leaning against his thigh and stroked his hair and face tenderly.
"I wish it were enough too."
Author's Note:
Vallen: Okay, this is it.. This is the LAST time I'm going to try to get the link to you. Go to our yahoo group (the link is on our profile) and find a message called "Don't know why…" posted by me. The link is in there, I promise! It wasn't really worth the hassle, but hey… Oh, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter! This one was another long one 11 pages!
Xan: is currently…
Vallen: ; I have no idea where Xan is right now. She disappeared off the face of the earth and didn't tell me.