Love Tactics (working title) By Thunder
Summary: A girl and her tactician have feelings for each other. But, they come from different backgrounds. Can they overcome the obstacles that are laid in front of them every day?
Author's notes: This is my first fanfic that I've ever posted. I'm not about to beg for reviews, but if you could find time to review it, it would be GREATLY appreciated. I've used the male version of the tactician, and since the name is subject to change, I've used the default tactician name, which is Mark. Now, on to the fic... hopefully, enjoy.
Disclaimer stuff: I don't own Fire Emblem or any of the characters, and the plotline is a much more in-depth version of the basic Fire Emblem story as of now. But slowly it will become different, but it still is not and never will be totally my idea.
Within the borders of Elibe, there lay eight territories, each named and structured after one of the Eight Generals. This elite group of soldiers had saved humanity from being annihilated by dragons one thousand years before. For most of our story, our attentions are focused toward the colony set by Roland that grew into a thriving nation: the leagues of Lycia. Lycia is divided into many different territories, called leagues. Each league has a ruling house, and the head of which is called the marquess. However, because these are still one government, a hierarchy must be set in place. For Lycia, the marquess of Ostia had the most power, and governed over them all. Our story focuses on three of the leagues: Ostia, Pherae, and Caelin.
"In the inn..." he said aloud. So used to sleeping on the unforgiving ground he had become, exposed to the world, he had forgotten what it was like to be safe. He had come to this inn about a week ago. He had become a drifter, akin to his old manners, about a year ago, after aiding in a power dispute in Castle Caelin.
One year ago... that was when he came into his true role as a tactician. He had gotten lucky. He... hadn't totally finished his tactician training then, when he left to search the world for answers. He then had been ambushed by bandits not long after... they stole his belongings and left him stranded in the middle of Sacae...
And then she had found him.
Her name was Lyn. Such a name... so simple, yet so beautiful... She had found him unconscious on the plains of Sacae. She had taken him home with her, given him safe refuge to recover, even taken care of him until he awoke. Such unwonted kindheartedness was unlike a Sacaean. They were a fiercely proud people by nature, but she took in a complete stranger, even nursed him back to health. If it had not been for her, he would have not lived to this day.
Then the bandits had come again. They had already decimated the rest of Lyn's tribe, and they must have came back to finish the job. Then Lyn had asked for his assistance, and together they destroyed the bandits once and for all.
He loved everything about her. Her long green hair, green eyes, her sweet voice, her long slender legs... she was kindhearted and down-to-earth, and she possessed such a knack for knowing what to say at the right time. And that wasn't all. Her Sacean blood ran strong through her veins, but unbeknownst to herself until about a year ago, she also had Lycian blood as well. She was the granddaughter of Marquess Caelin, and the heir to the throne.
In the tactician's opinion, she was the best of both worlds.
"Lyn..." he whispered quietly to himself. He had not forgotten how they had banded together to get to the throne before her corrupt uncle, Lord Lungren, killed the marquess-her grandfather- to gain control of Caelin. With the help of many friends, they had won that race, and Lyn had been named the rightful heir to the throne.
Most of Lyn's new friends had stayed in Caelin with her, but the tactician... he had not. He left Lyn behind, left all of them behind, to travel the world more, still searching to the answers of the age-old questions. And yet... even on that fateful evening on the cliff top with Lyn, where she practically begged him to stay, he had not realized his emotions for her yet. Only when he looked back over his shoulder at her, where, with tears streaming down her beautiful face, she said, "Take care..." in her sweet voice did his heart melt, and he realize his affections. But, he had said what he was going to do already. Being a man of his word, he still left, with her on his mind the whole time. And then that year of wandering set in, which had only ended a week ago at this inn.
And now he feared he would never see her again. Consequently, she had been haunting his dreams as of late, apparitions of her that he strived to get to, but something always prevented him. Why...? Why did her memory haunt his dreams so? He knew that he loved her, but... was it supposed to make him regret his decision to leave more? He didn't need that, he regretted leaving every hour of every day.
The tactician sighed. Reminiscing would get him nowhere. Looking over out the window, he realized he had been thinking of Lyn for more than an hour. The sun was up. He estimated it to be about 8:30.
"Hmm..." he said to himself. The breakfast served at this inn probably was about ready. He stood up from his bed, walked over to his closet, and grabbed his robe. It was made of a heavy material, built to keep the rain and wind out but allow quick movement. He put it on. He liked this robe. It reminded him of a mage's outfit, but the difference was that his wasn't enchanted like most of the mage robes, with enchantments to boost the user's magic potential. He halfway wanted to be a mage. He had received some lessons in the ways of anima magic from one of Lyn's friends, a mage from Eturia named Erk. He had a natural affinity with mages, because they roamed the world, much as he did himself.
The tactician buttoned the final clasp on his robe, and then walked out of his room and down the stairs to the lobby area of the inn.
The tactician was right- the food was there. And it was good, too. He had caught it right on the threshold of when they put the food out for consumption. He sat there, enjoying the seemingly endless supply of victuals. He ate until he was full and energized for the rest of the day. Then, he got up from his chair and walked outside into the calming morning air. Thinking of Lyn had excited his heart, and he needed to clear his head. A tactician needed to think logically at all times.
The young man looked out at the rising sun. It was a beacon of hope, representing all of humanities' hopes and dreams. The tactician had to admit, it was beautiful.
He turned around, and looked to the north. There was a steep hill face opposite the town. But... what was this? Something... or someone was coming over the hill. He looked closer. A glint stuck him in the eye, taking the rouge form of an axe. He recognized that kind of axe... it was the first axe he had seen in battle, when Lyn sliced the first enemy with her blade... a simple axe, preferred by...
The tactician turned around and dashed back into the inn, then skidded into the big room.
"Bandits are coming!" he shouted.
All at once, the room burst into chaos. Mothers grabbing their screaming children, fathers and most men moving into their different positions. The innkeeper turned to the tactician.
"You! Go warn the mayor!"
Without a moment's hesitation, the tactician turned and ran out the door again. Throwing a glance over his shoulder, he saw the bandits, much closer now, and the look on their faces. Fear coursed through his veins. He only had felt fear like this once before, when Lyn had almost perished in battle. She had narrowly avoided death, but the young man never forgave himself for almost letting that happen.
He reached the mayor's office. Throwing open the door, he announced the same warning he had given the inn. The mayor turned sheet white. "Oh, dear..." he uttered. A young girl turned around and gave the tactician a scared glance. And, a knight with green hair that grew so wild it was impossible to see his demeanor turned and seemed to look at the man.
The knight spoke. "How close are they?"
"They're probably here by now..." the young tactician said.
The knight still seemed expressionless. "Then let us go..." he said, before sprinting out the door to his waiting horse.
"But..."
"I can explain momentarily. But not here, we might be blockaded in." He jumped on his horse. "Come on. Bring the girl as well."
This must be something preplanned between them, he said to himself. He and the girl mounted the horse, and then they made a mad dash for the gate.
The tactician frowned. Certainly the knight wasn't going to ride straight out of the gate?
"Hey, you!" He gestured toward the knight. "Don't ride straight out the gate- jump the fence!"
The knight merely nodded to show he understood, then followed the young man's orders. It was a close call- three bandits ran straight through the gate, axes flailing, right as the knight jumped the fence. They had made it out. They continued to ride, over to the hill opposite the town.
The knight turned his head around to the man behind him. "Thanks," he said.
"No problem," the man replied. "I'm a tactician by trade- if you have a militia, I can assist. I also know a bit of anima magic- not enough to help though, I'm afraid."
"All right. I'm Lowen. We do have a force, but a small one," Lowen said, turning back to the path.
In not long at all, they reached the small force waiting atop the hill. The tactician noticed an extremely strong paladin up on the plateau, and then a noble. He felt he recognized that wild red hair...
At last, they reached the force. Lowen, the tactician, and the girl dismounted from the horse. Lowen went to deliver his report to the paladin and the young noble.
The tactician looked at the girl. She was rather attractive, seeming to be about twelve or thirteen. Her hair was green, and she wore a short skirt. She also seemed to have a bow in hand.
The girl saw the young man looking, and looked back and smiled. "Hi, my name's Rebecca. So, are you going to help us overcome these bandits?"
"Any way I can," the tactician answered truthfully. He fully planned to eradicate these bandits- that is, if that young noble allowed him to use his force.
The noble... why did he look so familiar? He must have seen a likeness of him somewhere. He seemed to be about the tactician's age, yet there was no doubt of either of their abilities. He would make a splendid marquess someday; the tactician could see that now.
And the paladin... he looked like a man, but the tactician could tell that he was a lethal weapon in motion. The way he carried his rather expensive steel weapons suggested a high level of weapon mastery. He would be a juggernaut to the tactician, if the noble allowed him control of his force.
"Young man, Rebecca, can you come over here for a moment?" Lowen called.
They did as he asked, and Lowen continued the report. "This is Rebecca, the mayor's daughter."
"I see," the noble responded. "Well, Rebecca, you just stay close to me."
"Actually, sir," Rebecca said, blushing a bit, "I thought I could help. You see, I hunt a lot, and I have some skill with a bow."
"I see... all right then. And what about him?"
"Well, this is a tactician who was staying at the inn. He has offered his services."
The noble turned to the man.
Recognition flitted over both of their faces.
"Lord Eliwood!"
"Well met, Mark!"
END OF CHATPTER ONE
Well, that's it for now. It won't be long to my next chapter, this is addictive. :D Hope you enjoyed it.