No Longer Alone

Fire Emblem DS has been announced – and apparently it's a remake of the first one. More Marth fics in the section, I guess…

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"Haven't found you sea legs yet, huh?"

It was in such a manner that Franz was greeted by his elder brother as he emerged onto the deck. Not bothering with a proper response, the young knight merely sighed despondently and stumbled over to the centre of the ship's deck.

"I don't think I've ever seen a face that green before, you know." Forde continued his much unwanted commentary as he kept pace with Franz, a sickeningly pleasant smile on his face.

Franz would have shot back a retort except that at that moment the boat crested again, once more causing his stomach to heave, and him to utter a choked groan and to lean over the side of the ship.

Nothing came out, for the rather excellent reason that everything in his stomach had been expunged a long time ago. After gagging for several long seconds, he felt his brother's hands on his back, giving him an awkward but nonetheless comforting back rub.

Finally able to catch his breath, the cavalier straightened out again. "Somehow, I never thought a sea voyage would be so… miserable." He muttered.

"Well, I think you're just more sensitive than most." Forde gazed out over the sea. "The weather here is really about as smooth as it gets. If you want stormy seas, you really should check out the southern coast of Grado. Huge waves, howling winds, and once in a while you even get a lovely hurricane."

"I'll pass, thanks."

"All right, all right." Forde chuckled as he continued rubbing his brother's back. "Anyway, you know your tips on sea travel – stay near the centre of the boat, don't run too much, and try to get some fresh air."

"What do you think I'm doing now?" Came the rather grumpy reply.

"I'm just going down the list. Next, don't eat heavy meals – not really a problem with this army's cooking, try to sit down, try to get a back rub…"

"You're not making this any easier, you know."

"Well, if you're going to be Mr. Sunshine like that, then I suppose you don't need the continued administration of massaging to your back." Forde leaned over and ruffled his brother's hair – the hand was quickly shoved away.

"You should go find Amelia." Forde called as he walked away. "I'm sure she'd be happy to fuss over you and make you feel all better!"

Franz merely sighed again. Then he glanced up.

The fog was rolling in.

"Oh, great." He grumbled. "Now the weather's even changing itself to match my mood."

"Hi – YAH!" Amelia lunged forward, the polearm in her hand smashing into the straw dummy set up in the room.

"Not bad." Her trainer – Garcia was his name, she remembered – smiled at her. "You're still throwing too much weight into your attack, though – you shouldn't do that unless you're absolutely sure it'll take out your opponent."

"Ye – yeah, but…" Amelia paused hesitantly. "It's just – this wooden pole's a lot lighter than the spear I normally use… when I fight with that, I can't do much with it unless I put in a lot of energy."

"Well, then we'll need to focus on building up your strength and stamina." The burly-chested man nodded in approval. "Still, that's enough for now – we'll have another training session after the evening meal." He paused and chuckled. "It still surprises me how a greenhorn like you can feel so comfortable on a boat that you can train like you do."

"Eh…" Amelia flushed and rubbed the back of his head. "It's… I dunno… I've never really been on a boat before."

"Well, it comes naturally to some people, I suppose." Garcia shrugged. "Run along, lass. You're probably tired out from all the training by now."

Amelia nodded and left the room, feeling an odd sense of elation at having earned the grizzled warrior's approval. After two days at sea and under his tutelage, she could tell that she had improved a lot – still nowhere near as good as Franz, of course, but it was a start.

So happy was she that she utterly failed to notice a loose plank in the flooring of the ship – in her defense, it wasn't like the interior of the vessel was particularly well lit or anything. Still, her foot caught against it, and with a yelp of surprise, she was thrown forward.

"Ack!"

Fortunately, her fall was broken. Not so fortunately, if was broken by way of her slamming into someone who had been darting down the hall at top speeds.

"Waugh!"

"Argh! OWW!"

Picking herself up from the floor, Amelia cringed as she saw the person she had collided with lying on the floor in a tangled heap. He managed to raise his head, "Ow…" he mumbled. "What the heck?"

"S- sorry!" Amelia sputtered as she leaned over, helping him to his feet. "I'm so sorry! It was clumsy of me – I - !"

She cut off as he turned to gaze curiously as her – and Amelia's eyes widened slightly. It was the boy Natasha had been treating the other day – Ross… wasn't it?

Whatever it was, the lad's eyes narrowed and suddenly he was grasping a hatchet in his hand. "You…!" He snapped. "A Grado soldier? Are you trying to ambush us?"

G – Grado… Amelia glanced down at herself. After her last battle, her breastplate had been rendered useless and so, with great reluctance, she had discarded it, with the intentions of getting a new plate at their port of destination.

And so currently she was clad in a maroon leather tunic – part of the set that had been given to her back in the Grado barracks. And, chagrined, she realized that it clearly bore the emblem of Grado on the left side of the chest."

"Well?" Ross demanded, snapping her back to reality. "I'm the son of the warrior Garcia, Ross! Prepare yourself!"

"Ah – wait!" She blurted out, stepping back and raising her arms to ward off any impending blows. "I – I'm not from Grado! I mean – yes, I am from Grado, but I'm not part of their army!"

"Ha! You can't trick me!" Ross bellowed and he stepped forward, bring the hatchet downwards.

With a tiny cry of fright, Amelia dodged the blow, mind whirling. She didn't want to fight him – he was an ally, even if he didn't know it yet. "S-stop! I didn't attack you! I just tripped and fell over! It – it was an accident!"

Ross paused, axe still raised in the air. "An… accident?" He said suspiciously.

"Yes! Look – there's a loose plank over there and-"

"Huh?" Ross twisted around. "Oh, that. You tripped on that? I can barely even see the part where it's raised." He turned back to face Amelia and grinned. "Then again, you're pretty small. Maybe someone like you could trip on that, huh!" He finished before laughing heartily.

Hey, you're not that much bigger than me! Amelia thought. Still, she breathed a sigh of relief. "Th – thanks for believing me." She said softly.

"Hey, no point in beating up people on your side," Ross flashed a grin and stuck out his open hand. "Let's be friends, okay?"

"O-okay…" She smiled. "My name's Amelia."

"And I'm Ross!"

I knew that already, but thanks anyway. She started to speak but remained silent. Before either of them could do anything else, however, there was the sound of someone rounding the corridor, and a gloved hand fell on Ross's shoulder.

"Ah, Amelia." Ephraim smiled at her. "Getting to know your shipmates, are you? Good for you. However…" His grip on Ross's shoulder tightened. "I've some… matters to discuss with this young man here, so as you were."

Knowing enough not to question the prince, Amelia merely nodded, bid farewell to Ross (who was turning rather pale), and headed off.

Once alone, she paused and sighed. A large part of her wanted to go and find Franz and to see how he was doing, considering she hadn't had much chance to meet him ever since they had boarded the ship. But another part of her wondered if he wanted to see her, or if he was annoyed by her presence.

She hesitated and sighed to herself.

"Well, I obviously won't be able to tell if I don't even see him." She sighed to herself.

Right. I'll go up and talk to him – if I see any hints that he doesn't want me around, I'll just end the conversation quickly. With this plan in mind, she headed for the stairs to the main deck – she knew Franz spent most of his time up there.

"And I must say that my estimation of Renais has improved quite a bit!"

"Really?" Franz replied, trying his best to sound interested and not deathly seasick like he currently was.

Gilliam nodded. "Those exercises you prescribed to me are wonderful! I do them nightly before I go to bed, and I feel fantastic the day the after!"

Exercises…? Franz frowned. Oh, yes. He remembered telling Gilliam something of that sort a while ago… "I'm glad they've been of aid to you, Sir Gilliam." He replied softly.

"You don't sound very glad." Franz didn't detect much of a sense of ire in the veteran knight's voice, but he found it necessary to reply anyway.

"Well, I am." Franz straightened up from his position to look Gilliam in the eye. "Renais is a small country – but there is much that is good about it. I'm always glad when someone recognizes the finer qualities of my homeland."

Gilliam let out a short bark that might have been a laugh. "Well then, keep your chin up, Sir Franz, Knight of Renais! I may not know Renais as a country, but if it can breed such fine knights as yourself, then it can't be very bad at all! Be proud of your home!"

"Thank you, Sir Gilliam. I appreciate it very much." Franz nodded politely. And the truth was, he did – or at least he would have if he had felt marginally better. The poor weather wasn't doing much for his mood, and neither was his tortured stomach.

Sensing that the young knight wasn't in the mood for prolonged conversation, Sir Gilliam bid farewell to Franz and moved away – quickly swallowed by the thickening fog.

It was getting ridiculous, Franz decided. He couldn't see more than a few feet in any direction, and the dampness was becoming more and more uncomfortable. Shaking his head, he decided to return to his hammock – the sleeping quarters were the living definition of the words 'cramped', 'stuffy', 'airless' and probably a few more, but at least he could lie down for a while – and he was lucky, he'd be able to get some sleep, which had the added bonus of making the entire journey seem shorter.

He had taken two steps in the direction of the stairs when Amelia quite literally popped up in front of him – the fog had been so thick that if he had been paying any less attention he might have crashed into her.

"Oh, Amelia!" Despite him feeling like yesterday's leftovers, he found a smile from somewhere to put on his face. "Aren't you training under Sir Garcia?"

"I'm off for now." She grinned. "Whatcha up to?"

"No, nothing much." Franz blew out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "I was just… just thinking about going back below decks."

"Oh?" Amelia's expression was odd – Franz couldn't quite place it, but it gave him a feeling of unease. "What's the matter?"

He was about to confess to Amelia that he was terribly, terribly seasick, and that right now what he wanted more than anything else was to collapse onto his hammock and not move an inch until they had reached Taizel, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, he paused. It seemed… well, it seemed a bit silly to be burdening Amelia like that, after all. Prince Ephraim had wanted him to be a pillar of strength for her sake, hadn't he?

Compounding all that was that he… well, he didn't want to act like he was weak. Not in front of Amelia.

So he shook his head. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

That he was hiding something was obvious, but for the life of her Amelia couldn't peg what it was. She half suspected that it was true about him being tired of her presence, but she so desperately wanted that to not be true that she wasn't sure what to do.

Am I just imagining things? She bit her lip, trying to sort out her thoughts and realizing that the longer she stood there silent, the bigger an idiot she appeared to be.

Argh, why couldn't it be as simple as the way she had planned it out earlier? It was a good plan, except for one crucial flaw – she had promised herself to end the talk quickly if she caught any hints of him not wanting her around, but she was in the unhappy circumstance of not being able to tell what exactly was a hint and what wasn't.

Unhappily, she had to acknowledge the fact that although she had been spending a lot of time with Franz, and indeed, looked up to him a whole lot, she didn't really know much about him.

"Is there anything wrong?" His gentle voice intruded on her thoughts, and she refocused on him.

"N – nah." She shook her head.

He nodded, "In that case, would you excuse me for a while?" Before she could even begin to formulate a reply, he stepped past her, vanishing into the thick fog.

Amelia stood there for several long moments, slightly dumbstruck. Someone it had never occurred to her that Franz would be the one to take it upon himself to end the conversation fast.

She glanced up around at the fog – she'd heard some of the more sailing-versed members of the army call it a 'pea-souper' and although she wasn't sure of the exact meaning, she felt she caught the general gist of it.

About as gloomy as I feel right now, then. Amelia thought to herself with a sigh. Hugging herself to keep off some of the chill, Amelia milled about slightly through the darkness, unsure about what to do.

"Amelia!" A cheery shout caused her to look around, and an instant later Neimi stepped out of the fog, waving cheerily at her friend.

"Neimi!" Whatever rut that her relationship with Franz may have driven itself into, at least she had one other friend in the army. "How on earth could you find me in a fog like this? I can barely see where I'm going!"

"Oh? Hehe…" Neimi grinned. "I guess I was always trained to have better eyesight than most. You need it to be a good archer, you know." She shook her head. "But enough about me, Amelia. You seem kinda down. Anything the matter?"

Amelia winced. She still didn't feel comfortable enough with anyone (well… maybe Franz. Maybe.) discussing personal matters, so she shook her head. "Just… tired."

"Well, I guess that's not a big surprise, considering how much training you're going through."

"Well, what about you? You have to practice your aiming, right?"

"Yeah – but it's kinda difficult to do that on a ship like this because you can't practice properly below the deck – and if you're up here you can waste a lot of arrows by accidentally shooting them into the sea. And of course, if the ship rocks too much or something, you'll get thrown off balance." Neimi smiled. "So I decided to train my eyes instead."

"Train your eyes? You mean you can do that?"

"Sure! You just have to-"

A rumble distracted the both of them, and just as they were about to go to look out for the source of noise the ship shuddered with enough force that both girls were thrown to the ground.

Quickly picking herself up, Amelia glanced around nervously.

"W- what's going on?" Neimi murmured as she stood. "Did we hit something."

All around her Amelia could hear confused mutterings from the rest of the crew. They're as confused as we are. Never a good sign. Amelia thought unhappily. Out loud, she said, "I think we should try to hook up with others – with the fog as thick as it is, it's not safe being out here all on our own."

Forsaking a verbal reply, Neimi nodded, and the two of them began backing up, Amelia wishing desperately that she had thought to bring her lance up with her.

They had taken all of six steps when a scream echoed through the misty darkness.

As Franz rubbed the spot on his head where he had bumped himself, he reflected that, all in all, it wasn't turning out to be a good day.

While he hadn't wanted to blow Amelia off so abruptly like that, he had been feeling too bad at that time to pay much attention to something like that – if necessary, he could always make it up to her later.

And so he had stumbled through the hallways of the ship until he reached the shared cabin where no less than a dozen of his fellow soldiers were quartered. Thankfully the majority of them were on his duty, so he had the room to himself.

He had just clambered onto his hammock and allowed his body to relax when the ship had pitched violently to one side, with the sum effect of the unfortunate knight being thrown out of his hammock and bashing his head against the doorframe of the room.

Grumbling to himself, Franz had just pulled himself to his feet when Kyle appeared in the doorway. "Ah, there you are. Get yourself suited up and get to the deck quickly."

"What's the matter?" Franz mumbled as he stumbled to where his armour had been packed, quickly getting them into place.

Kyle shrugged. "All I know is we're under an attack of some kind – from who or what, I can't really say. Don't dawdle." And then he was gone, presumably to find and warn the others.

A few precious minutes later, Franz finished buckling on the last of his armour pieces and, grabbing his sword, he set out for the deck.

Legs pumping, he dashed through the darkened corridors, heading for-

Hold it. He pulled to a halt just outside one of the doors to a cabin – the one he knew was shared by Amelia and some of the other girls in the army. The earlier collision had knocked the door ajar, and Franz peered into the room, seeing a single gleaming lance resting against the rack.

Amelia! She had been on the deck when he had last left her – and the lance being here meant she had no weapon… In a single motion he ducked into the room, yanked the weapon from its place in the rack.

Amelia… please be safe. That singular thought foremost in his mind, Franz resumed his frantic dash for the deck.

Chapter End

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