Title: Your Hands Brought the Morrow
Pairing: Corrin/Jakob
Rating: T (For suggestive themes in this chapter and onward)
Disclaimer: The plot/characters of Fire Emblem Fates: Conquest belong to Intelligent Systems and Nintendo.
Author's Note: It has been a crazy two weeks for me. The paper I work for lost an editor, so I'm in overdrive. I tried to write this chapter a little last week, and my fingers were literally shaking too badly to type.
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Those "suggestive themes" I previously mentioned will be present in this chapter and onward. Also, we're finally nearing the actual start of the game's plotline. Yay!
-START-
The sound of two blades screeching against each other echoed stridently against the cold, stone walls of the Northern Fortress. The noise caused hoards of bats to fly from trees and awoke many nighttime creatures from their slumber. The sound came from atop one of the fortress's highest towers and, unbeknownst to its citizens, one of its highest battlefields.
At the top of one of the citadel's many towers was a flattened surface in the shape of a wide pentagon that was hundreds of feet wide. The flooring was darkly checkered and a waist-high guardrail crept around the entire circumference for obvious safety reasons.
Although it certainly didn't emulate the conditions of a real battlefield, it was perfectly suited to helping Corrin undergo her training.
Ever since her teenage birthday, Corrin had taken up a strenuous combat regime with Gunter and also had monthly battles with her older brother Xander.
For once, the young woman had the opportunity to truly improve her strength and battle techniques beyond the usual weekly sparring session she also did with Gunter. At the time, he'd merely insisted it as a form of exercise for the cooped up princess. Now, he began to tutor her seriously for the battlefield in the same way he would train new knights seeking admittance into the Nohrian guard.
Every battle was long and hard-fought. No matter how long the girl prepared or how long the battle stretched, Corrin always lost against Xander.
Upon failing to land a final blow and falling in a wounded mass to the ground, Xander would look down his nose at his younger sister and mutter mournfully, "How disappointing. I suppose you don't wish to leave the fortress at all."
Once he'd left, she'd haul herself up despite the bleeding and throbbing pain. To her, it was a matter of pride. She had mastered the art of losing against him, but never gave up.
Each month, the young woman trained beyond normal physical limits. Gunter trained her to use a variety of weapons, although she specialized in the use of a sword. Even the fortress servants would get in on the action, which wasn't unusual considering they had all also been trained for battle as a precaution if they were ever cornered in an attack and needed to help their master to safety.
Felicia didn't like fighting her mistress, but Flora seemed to take the practice in stride. Upon seeing her sister and mistress dance across the battlefield in a deadly dance of combat with knives slicing the air and blades flashing under the moonlight, the breath was always stolen from her throat. Flora never looked more like the Ice Tribe's potential queen than when she was bravely engaging the princess in a one on one battle. Their fights usually ended in a tie, although each had their fair share of wins and losses. They always managed to smile at each other, although Corrin's enthusiasm was usually met with the usual amount of cold distance from Flora. Again, the young princess had grown used to it.
Watching Corrin fight Jakob was an interesting spectacle, to say the least. Although both fought with grace and courtesy, neither went easy on the other. Quite the opposite.
Jakob fought Corrin with all the tenacity of a man facing a deadly opponent on a real battlefield. Corrin combated his every attack with almost complete precision. After all their years together, it was almost as if they could read each other's minds and anticipate each attack. It made their fights even more of a learning experience for Corrin, and Jakob as well.
Although the weapons were dulled and far from lethal, each still had the potential to harm the other. Sometimes they did.
One time, Corrin almost completely severed the sleeve of Jakob's uniform and left one of his arms completely exposed. Although she hadn't cut the fabric on purpose, it was a nice surprise to see how toned and well-built he was. She remembered when he was still a scrawny little boy, and seeing his strength made her heart and cheeks warm. The warmth then turned to scalding mortification when she realized she's also cut his arm and left a gash in the process. She helped tend the wound so it didn't leave a scar. The princess still felt guilty about the incident.
During another battle, Jakob had left a large bruise on Corrin's abdomen with his elbow while deflecting a blow. He must have apologized for hours. Even after she insisted over and over again that it wasn't a big deal, he still baked a large stack of cookies and made her favorite orange peel tea.
Although the practice battles did help hone her skills for battle greatly, it still wasn't enough to best her older brother.
The battles with Xander remained long and tedious. She still lost every time, but always got back on her feet.
After long sessions that stretched into the night, Lilith would always stay awake to tail Corrin to her bedroom and help her clean her wounds and change into fresh sleeping clothes.
The pattern continued on for years after King Garon's original promise on Corrin's birthday. Now, the young woman was older and had still failed to surpass her brother's strength or the might of his blade, Siegfried. The stress of constantly fighting and trying desperately to earn her family's respect was wearing on her. The woman began to forgo sleeping and even eating in favor of training with Gunter for a place alongside her family in the battlefield. Pain be damned, she was determined to prove her worth for the family she loved so dearly.
Eventually, the self-neglect caught up with Corrin.
It was the morning after one session in particular that the princess awoke to find her royal siblings gone and her body in even more pain than usual.
Upon sitting up, Corrin felt chilled sweat roll down her forehead and back. A contradiction of icy and searing hot pain bloomed in her lower arm. The young woman looked down to see that her right wrist, the one she used to wield her blade, was swollen and purplish. She didn't even have to call a medic to know that it was broken.
She had been in such a rush to go to bed last night after another failure that she had pushed the pain aside and hid any indication of it from Lilith. After a night of restless tossing and turning, the state of her hand had only gotten worse.
"Damn…" Corrin swore as she caressed the bloated flesh with her fingertips. Even the gentlest touch seemed to light her nerves on fire. There was no way she'd be able to wield a blade. Even the idea of lifting a hairbrush or pulling on her clothes with such an injury made her shudder nauseously.
"What do I do?"
Just as the young woman was pondering what to do about the pounding ache, a knock came at her door. She swiveled her head in the direction of the sturdy structure and called out, "Oh! Um…who is it?"
She winced at the sound of her own words the second they left her mouth. Although she'd tried to compose her voice, she still sounded as if she was in an immense amount of pain. She supposed there was no point in hiding it, but still, she was a little embarrassed that her own tenacity had led to such a severe injury. No doubt Flora and Gunter would both chastise her. On top of that, she wasn't sure Lilith had the ability to heal her injury and knew Felicia would make a tremendous deal out of the situation.
"It's Jakob, my lady."
The sound of his accented voice on the other side of the door filled her with relief. Before beckoning him inside, he combed her hair with her left hand and called out curiously, "Um, Jakob? Do you happen to have a healing staff?"
"…My lady, are you injured?" Jakob asked from the other side of the door. There was increased urgency to his voice. "I do not have one, unfortunately."
She bit her lip and asked her second question. She'd been hoping to avoid such a direct comment. "That's okay. Don't worry about it, but…um…do you know how to make a cast? Say, for a broken wrist?"
The door opened without her order. The action surprised Corrin, not because he'd acted without a direct command, but because she knew how much of a stickler he was for protocol. Jakob breaking a strictly enforced rule meant that he was either truly worried or truly infuriated at her for hiding such a terrible injury.
As the silver-haired man crossed the room to examine her wrist with concern in his eyes and a tender touch, she realized it was the first possibility and heaved a sigh of relief.
"What happened?" he asked, removing his metal gauntlets so he didn't harm her while examining her injury. A strange expression crossed his features, and he leaned forward a few to ask her direly, "Is this from fighting Lord Xander?"
"It's not his fault," she quickly replied, placing her free hand on his chest as he leaned forward. It wasn't a gesture intended to push him away, but rather to steady him. It had been somewhat reflexive on her part after seeing his reaction to her injury. "It's my fault it's gotten this bad. After I lost last night, I guess I was embarrassed and rushed right to bed. My wrist hurt, but I hid it from Lilith. Please don't fault her for not noticing."
He stared at her critically before turning his amethyst gaze back to the wound. Jakob silently studied her injury for a few more seconds.
"I should have spoken up," Corrin said again, not liking the noiselessness between them. "I'm sorry Jakob. I'd love your help, but I'm sure this is a burden to you. I should have just mentioned it last night, and perhaps it would have been easier to treat."
"Pay that no mind," he said with a sigh. The man gently guided her hand back onto the mistress and continued, "I'll be right back. If we don't have a spare staff, I'm sure we have first-aid supplies. I'll get what you need and we'll get you patched up."
Corrin nodded as Jakob briskly left the room. For a moment, she thought he was angry at her, which she knew she deserved. Those thoughts were dashed seconds later when she heard the frantic pitter pater of his boots down the hall and knew he was racing to get the medical supplies. The butler was worried about her, and her concern was replaced almost immediately with guilt.
"I'm nothing but trouble for everyone, no matter how strong I try to become," she thought with dismay.
It took the butler less than five minutes to dash across the sprawling citadel to gather all the necessary materials for tending to Corrin's shattered wrist. His lungs burned from running and the heaviness of his armored uniform didn't aid his fast pace, but he didn't care. The man gathered all the bottles and bandages necessary in his arms and made a beeline for Corrin's chamber.
When he knocked again, she was still in bed waiting for him. He was grateful to see that she hadn't tried to move her arm prematurely. Although Corrin was capable of dressing and doing her hair without the help of the maids, any attempts to do so on her end might have hurt her wrist even more than before.
Jakob went to her bedside and kneeled before her after spreading the bandages and ointments out on the bed. At this, Corrin stopped him again with a gentle press on his chest.
"You don't have to do that," she said as she gazed upon his kneeling position. She patted a spot on the bed. "Sit here."
The young man lifted a brow and continued to cup her hand as gently as possible. His eyes traveled to the place on the bed, quite close to Corrin, who was also only dressed in sleeping clothes. "My lady, I'm afraid that would be improper. Besides, protocol clearly dictates…"
"If you sit on the bed, the light is better from the window," she refuted quickly. The quickness of her words made it sound as if she really wanted him to sit close to her. "Also, it's much more comfortable. I mean, for both of us."
She recently realized that she didn't like to see a dear friend kneel before her like a servant. It made her feel uncomfortable when anyone did it, but Jakob was a special case. The young woman liked looking at him eye-level, like the equal her royal family decreed he couldn't be. She beckoned again, "Please, sit."
Although it wasn't a traditional order, the command was still spoken with the finality of a princess. Jakob relented with a sigh and sat on the bed mere inches from her.
"As you wish," he said easily, trying his best to keep his face low to hide the mauve-colored blush on his cheeks. The butler sat on the princess's bed and leaned over her slightly to start patching up her injured wrist.
"Thank you, Jakob," she said again, feeling truly comfortable with him taking care of her. There was no hesitation that rattled her gaze or voice. Even as he brandished glass bottles of disinfectants that would definitely sting and even a few sharper tools, the princess felt relaxed when her safety was in her hands. She completely trusted him.
"I really appreciate this," she said. "I promise it'll never happen again."
"You're welcome, my lady," he said, his tone mostly devoid of emotion as he was focused on mending her wound. "I could do no less."
She sighed happily. Even after practically two decades together, Corrin still loved it when Jakob called her 'my lady.'
Minutes passed in silence as Jakob doted on her wrist. With the skill of a true butler, he was able to use the first-aid supplies to disinfect her wound as best he could. As he went to wrap the purplish skin, he studied her wrist carefully before attempting to place a brace across her forearm. Corrin tried her best not to flinch every time, but she knew Jakob could see the pain flash across her face.
"Is it too infected to fix?" she asked. After all, the injury looked bad. It would have been another story if she had allowed someone to mend her wound soon after it happened, but now, the skin and muscle was puffy. The wound had already had ample time to fester, probably beyond the point of recovery.
Jakob didn't immediately respond as he studied the injury one more time.
"I don't think so," he said to Corrin's surprise. "It's definitely broken, but only a few hours have passed since you broke it last night. The broken bone also didn't break the skin, It's a nasty injury, but not severe enough to fester that badly over a few hours."
"Really?" she asked incredulously. The young woman then looked outside and up at the cloudy Nohrian skies. Although the country was always dark, she had learned early in her childhood via the routines of the guards and servants how to read the tones of the heavens and differentiate the subtle differences between day and night. As Corrin looked out the window, she could see the morning was young and dawn had barely broken.
"That's right," she finally said. "I think it's only been broken for about…five hours, maybe."
Jakob nodded and went about dressing the wound.
"It's hardly an ideal situation, but I think a cast and brace will work just fine," Jakob told her with a smile as he laid a study strut against her hand and began to wrap tenderly.
"So we don't have to waste a healing staff?" Corrin asked as her eyes practically sparkled with relief. "Oh, thank the gods. That's a relief!"
Jakob gave her an odd look as he completed taping the gauze. Once he finished and tested the security of the tape with a gentle tug, he looked and her and took her uninjured hand tenderly in his own. Without his gauntlet, she felt the bare skin of his hands against her own.
"Lady Corrin, using a healing staff on your injury wouldn't be a waste," he clarified with a concerned smile. "It's true that you should have told someone about your wound sooner, but you still had a broken wrist. That's a severe injury, and if it had been any worse, I would have found a healing staff somewhere in this fortress in a heartbeat."
"Jakob…"
"Hell, I would have run the next town over," Jakob swore faithfully as he squeezed her hand. At that moment, the tone of his voice was almost heroic in nature. Corrin was rendered spellbound until moments later when Jakob seemed to realize the gravity of his statement. He quickly backpedaled and continued gracelessly, "Well, somehow. I don't know how I'd convince the old man to let me leave the fortress, but if it meant reassuring your safety, then I'd…"
She titled her head curiously as if silently prodding him to continue. Although she internally chastised her own curiosity, she couldn't help but wonder. She asked breathlessly, "Then you'd…?"
"If that was the case, then I'd…do whatever I could to help," he finally concluded, returning her titled gaze with a woeful look. "I'd go anywhere and do anything for you. I promise you that, my lady."
"Jakob," she replied, his name a gasp on her lips. "I don't know what to say."
"You needn't say anything," he replied softly. "Just promise me you'll never consider your own protection a waste of time or resources."
Corrin blinked away the tears of joy she felt threatening to fall she her bottom lashes. Instead, she squeezed his hand in return. She pursed her lips to prevent her from pressing a kiss to his hand. At that moment, she was overwhelmed with the desire to kiss or embrace him. However, with her lack of proper attire, the thought of pressing her partially clothed body to his so fully made her cheeks swell with a petal-pink hue.
"I promise," she replied. She looked up at him from beneath her pale lashes and felt his thumb lightly brush her cheeks. The tears that had been lingering on her bottom lashes had finally fallen.
He then took her bandaged hand and lifted it to his lips to place a kiss on her fingertips.
"I live to serve you, my lady."
She laughed happily at his declaration, just like she did when she was a small girl. Little did Jakob know the sense of peace those words always brought her, and little did she know how much she would need that loyalty to survive in the near future.
-END-
I went to a carnival earlier today to wind down after the craziness of the work week. Long story short, my friend had too many beers and bought me a glowing magic wand.
Carnivals are just really wonderful writing inspiration for me and have an aesthetic I absolutely enjoy. So that means my urge to write a modern Jokamu fic has intensified greatly. Of course, I'll absolutely include a glowing magic wand in any scene that I can.
(Also, I've definitely already started that modern Jokamu fanfic. I've been working on it in between chapters of this. Now I need to write a carnival date scene, haha!)
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Next time, we begin the Fates prologue.