We apologize for the lack of indents. I tried to fix it, but it just wouldn't work with me.
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:
Xan: Oh my god, so much happened in this chapter. I hope you can handle it all!
Vallen: Hey, this is a long-ass chapter, so… I really hope you like it. "New" characters are introduced and the plot thickens. I also have decided to start putting "Original characters" in the warning, because some people don't like it that we use original characters in our stories. Sorry, but Mario or Bowser just doesn't fit in a story like this. Carry on.
Thank you to:
Raiknii (Awesome! Thanks a lot!), Altean Princess of Destiny (o.o that is a really long user name. But don't worry, this will get finished… We're just a little slow.), Gambitt775 (What are you talking about?? We're not stuck! We never get stuck… Heh. :P), IceBlade09 (No, we're not! We love all of you! ^_^), MysticalWoodElf (SOON. I hope this chapter answers a lot of your questions.), Nikki (o.o Woah. I hope that your principal is a bit less psycho than Trave.), yaoifangirl (You like Roy as a victim? Well, you're not the only one!), Smoky(Sorry for it not being there… I'll try to get it in there now), MinyDreams7 (That was our first attempt at a lime, so thank you for the compliment.), Kevin C (XD Sadly, we have not played the Fire Emblem game, so we have no idea what we're talking about when we talk about the countries. Creative license, you know?), Deity of Sorrow (And you're kewl for reviewing. :P), pannybaby123 (You wait is over! Now hurry up and read!), Nataku (Adored? Wow… That's… awesome.), Pichu*Star (I can just picture you gnashing your teeth… It's funny. ^^; But the Necromancer is based off Link.), The Owner of TO (Yes, we usually update… And we'll try to do it every week or two weeks.. ^^; ), Persian Kittie (There should be a link at the bottom of this chapter, hopefully. Aww… Thanks for the compliments. ), Rayestar Ikina (Sorry for the really really long wait! We felt terrible after that… But thank you so much for saying that it's as good as the first one.), =D (Heh. What a lurvely name indeed.), Demon Cat Fury (Risking punishment?? Oh no, don't do that! But then again, I know personally how addicting fanfiction can be.), Crockgirl13 (Roy-chan is back in action!), Jennie(You're dead? Hurry up and come back to life!), Insane Ryuu (O_O We have been updated to god status. Hooray!), PikaPower (It's at the end of this chapter, hopefully!), Sinnatious (Ah, your lovely review… ^^ You are exactly right! It was a little too easy for Marth to get Roy. There MUST be complications. And all those analogies are making me hungry too… :3), Sword Master Jeff (No, we never die! We just… go away for a while. ^^; But yes, it does remind us that sometimes, we try to fix everything and yet, we still fail.), RavenGhost (*cheers* We're number ONE! *jumps* Now go study.), and bladegryphon (You're exactly right. The Necromancer won't let Roy go that easily…).
"You feel guilty... Highness, we'll hurry as fast as we possibly can. And once we get there, I will do everything humanly possible to help you get things set right. It is really my fault.. For getting captured and forcing you into coming to get me."
Marth jumped - he hadn't expected Roy to take the blame for this. He turned and looked at Roy right in the eye, a very serious expression on his face.
"Roy, listen to me. I do not feel guilty about coming to rescue you- it's just unfortunate that I was forced to leave with my country in a crisis like this. But I need you to be my support and I need you to be my general. So don't you dare feel guilty for getting captured - it wasn't your fault. We will beat this enemy."
A determined light shone in Marth's eyes and he dug his heels into Cloud's sides. The stallion jumped forward and they began to gallop towards Altea.
"This is it. You need to... pretend you're my captive, okay? Stop here." Roy jumped off the horse and rummaged around in Cloud's side packs. His eyes lit up once he found what he was looking for.
"Once the soldiers see us, I'll order them to take you away. But don't worry, they will not harm you unless I say. I'll try to break you out tonight... Does that sound okay? I'm a little worried about the Necromancer..." The general said as he got the bit of rope and tied it around Marth's wrists, helping him get off Cloud. He then got back on the stallion and tied the rope to the saddle.
"Ready?"
"...As ready as I'll ever be for this."
Marth, a skilled actor when the occasion called for it, plastered an expression that perfectly displayed a beaten, but not broken man with an edge of defiance in the way he carried his head. He imagined how shameful he would look to the zombie soldiers, being led into an enemy camp like a runaway slave behind his own horse. The king was reminded briefly of another time, years ago when he had been a runaway slave... Things had seemed so disastrous now, but they had prevailed. And he knew that they would prevail here as well.
'We need to get back to the capital as fast as we can, but there's no point sacrificing safety for speed. The entire point of getting there would be defeated if we arrived in pine boxes.' Marth sent to Roy as he walked behind him and Cloud.
'I know... And for once, let me handle this, okay? You don't know what the zombies are like...'
They walked into the camp slowly. This was clearly the main camp, tents pitched in rows by the hundreds to accommodate the thousands of un-dead soldiers. There was one large tent in the center, clearly used for the upper-ranked soldiers. Marth and Roy were surrounded by a flank of guards immediately and the auburn-haired general held up a hand, a commanding tone in his voice. They leered all around the two, their rotting flesh raising quite a stench.
"Halt! I come with orders from the Master and a prisoner!" He yelled.
The head guard let out a grunt of acknowledgement after looking Marth over. Prisoner indeed.
"Take him away and make sure that this horse is put away properly!" Roy ordered, sliding off. When the zombie-men did not jump at attention, he snapped in an even louder, impatient voice. "Well, what are you waiting for, you fools?! Get moving!"
That got them moving... And Roy did not give Marth so much as a mere glance before he strode off to the main tent.
Marth allowed himself to be led away, not responding to the painful prodding that his escorts subjected him to. It was nothing, he told himself as he walked voluntarily into a dank cell. I have been through much worse than this.
The king sat with his back to the cell wall, the iron digging into his shoulder blades. It was like being a slave again, only this time, he knew that he had a friend on the outside. He knew that Roy would never betray him, now that he remembered who Marth was.
For the first time in years, the blue-haired mage felt the protective ice slide over his heart and mind. It was a comforting sensation. Being like this was too much like being Gaimen's pleasure toy, brought back too many bad memories.
Roy. Marth had to keep his faith in Roy, his general, lover and best friend. And he had to keep it for his kingdom, who needed him more than ever now. And so the king sat down, prepared for a long wait.
Roy met with his semi-conscious subjects and feigned the arrogance of the general that they were used to. The strange thing was that it wasn't that hard to let himself slip into the headstrong leader of soldiers. More than anything else, it scared him.
'It's just the Necromancer's hold on me... Nothing else... Remnants of him are still in my mind,' He told himself. Or was he telling himself a bald-faced lie?
"We attack tomorrow morning at dawn."
'I hope that's enough time for Marth to get his act together... I can only spare him one night- The soldiers are already getting suspicious and antsy.'
The general walked to the exit of the tent and peered out. The sun was beginning to set. Soon enough he would be released from his duties for the night and would have the time to sneak Marth out.
It was past midnight when a long high-pitched creaking noise caused Marth to stir and raise his head. He didn't know how long he had been sitting there, several hours certainly.
'Roy?' He sent mentally on their private connection.
There was no answer. All that was heard was the soft sound of trembling fingers inserting the keys into the locking mechanism of Marth's cell. Roy stood there holding a bundle in his arms, his eyes not visible in the dark. He tossed the bundle towards the king- A full soldier's uniform, complete with a helmet and visor.
The king caught the bundle and began to pull on the clothes silently. He tucked his other clothes and helmet under his arm and walked out of the cell. He squeezed Roy's shoulder lightly.
'Thank you. Escape soon... and be safe.'
He ducked into the darkness, pulling the helmet on to conceal his face. Cloud was kept in the stable, no doubt they had intended to keep the horse for their own ranks. The stallion snorted and reached his head towards Marth. Marth quieted Cloud and mounted him as silently as he could. Without even a look back, Marth dug his heels into his sides and took off towards the capital.
Roy knew he would be fine. He had gone at great lengths to make sure no guards were posted along the way that Marth would travel back to the city. The general let out a gasp and fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around himself. He let his head bow down and his eyes close.
'So you let the King go... He risks his life to save you, and you give that up and show him the way out... But no matter- I have three times the number of soldiers he does,' the voice of the Necromancer snarled in his head.
Roy clenched his jaw tightly.
'I'll burn them all. And then you will have nothing!'
There was a long silence, but Roy could feel the dark mage thinking. His heart pounded in his chest, seemingly as loud as thunder.
'Ah. I did wonder how you found a way to break my hold on your mind... But that little show last night was quite enjoyable. I had no idea that you two loved each other that much.'
The auburn haired young man fought to get to his feet, staggering out of the cage and into the moonlight. He stared up at the pale orb in the sky, its reflection in his eyes.
'So what are you going to do about it? Find a way to let the Kingdom know and ruin Marth? I'm all-ears, Necromancer.'
'Maybe... But I'm sure I could think of something much worse. Perhaps a few demons from your pasts will be paying you two a visit. Heh.'
An image of two men were projected in Roy's head and his eyes widened impossibly. No... Those men were supposed to stay in their graves... He was speechless, other than the strangled whimper that died in his throat.
'What time shall I say that you are expecting them?'
"Never!!" Roy yelled aloud, breaking into a fast sprint towards his tent.
'Tomorrow it is, then.'
Cloud had never felt so exhausted in all of his life. His hooves felt like they weighed as much as a hundred pounds of brick each, his muscles ached like nothing he had ever felt before and the saddle on his back was rubbing painful sores into his skin, but he kept running. Because his master had asked him to. Cloud would run for Marth until his heart stopped.
Marth could sense his loyal stallion's severe fatigue, but he had to ask Cloud to carry him just a bit farther… just a bit farther…
"Just to the castle, Cloud and then I promise that you'll be able to rest for a month with Blackmare and Onyx and sleep all day and get fat… with all the apples you could want, I promise." Marth was practically pleading the horse to keep moving, to get to the castle before it was too late… Already dawn was breaking on the horizon and silhouetted against it, the castle; a trace of hope appearing in the blood red light of the rising sun. "There it is, Cloud! Do you see it?! Just get to the castle, boy… Please Cloud, don't stop…"
The horse faltered, nearly going down on his knees, but caught himself valiantly at the last minute, his nostrils dilated and sweat-flanked sides heaving with exertion. Marth was thrown up against Cloud's neck, twining his fingers tightly into the grey mane until he couldn't feel his fingertips.
It wasn't long before the nearly dead man and beast arrived at the castle gate. Marth could feel that Cloud was just barely standing and reached down to pat his neck reassuringly when he felt an arrow whistle by his ear. Cloud shied, or tried to, but was too tired to do much more than raise his head quickly and roll his eyes with alarm. Marth was perplexed for a moment, then realized that he was still wearing the uniform of one of the zombie soldiers! That coupled with Cloud's near-cadaverous appearance, no wonder they had thought him one of the living dead!
"Don't shoot! I'm friend, not foe!" Marth pulled off the helmet and threw it aside, revealing his once-youthful face, now haggard by the stress and pain of the last few weeks. But it was the same face. The guards drew back their crossbows, but did not stand down completely. Even then, they weren't completely sure.
"Prove that you're his Majesty!"
"I am the Prince Marth, he who was tortured by first Gaimen, then Trave! I bear the scars on my body to prove it!" He tore off the armor on his chest and let the guardsmen see the scars from Gaimen and Trave that had turned his body into an intricate network of lines, much like the web of an insane spider carved into flesh. "And if that is not proof enough, I can recite the history of the Lowell line going back thirteen centuries!"
"It is his Majesty, let him in!" A voice Marth dimly recognized as Farro's shouted.
The gates swung open and Marth dug his heels into Cloud's sides, urging the horse to use the last of his strength to get inside the barricades as quickly as he could. Cloud responded gallantly, throwing himself into the task that Marth asked of him.
People of all sorts, peasants, nobles, children and beggars had all gathered at the word of Marth's return. But it was hardly the splendid affair that they had perhaps expected. As soon as they were inside and the gates had been securely closed again, Marth jumped off of Cloud and began to strip him of his tack as fast as he could, his fingers fumbling in his haste.
"Don't worry Cloud, it'll be okay…" He murmured, tossing the saddle aside. Cloud stood stark still, motionless aside from the trembling that shook his entire body. Marth took off the horse's bridle and threw his arms around Cloud's neck, not caring if anyone, or even the whole kingdom saw him now. He had known Cloud almost as long as he had known Roy and the horse had done nothing but serve him faithfully through trial and tribulation through all that time… He would even go so far as to say that Cloud was one of his dearest friends.
"Please, Cloud, be okay…" Marth whispered, knowing that somehow, the words were in vain. Cloud nickered once, pressing his soft, velvety nose to Marth's back, and then collapsed onto the hard ground. Marth went down with him, falling roughly to his knees, holding Cloud's head in his arms. The light had gone from the horse's gentle black eye, never to shine again. Cloud was dead.
Marth couldn't do anything but stare down at the rapidly cooling head in his hands.
Moments later, there was a trembling hand at his shoulder, firm yet weak at the same time.
"That horse loved you and wanted to give all it had for you, so accept what it had to give and don't stop too long to mourn its passing." It was Rowen's voice, except the older man's voice was hoarse and tired. Tears were in his amethyst eyes, but were they tears of exhaustion or sadness? He knelt down and forced Marth to let go of the stallion's head gently, grabbing his shoulders and then pulling him to his feet.
Marth wanted to embrace Rowen, the only father figure that he had ever really had and cry into the old man's robes, as a small boy cries to his father when a beloved pet dies. But instead, the tears turned to ice in eyes unable to shed them. Not here, not in front of the people. They deserved a strong man for a king, not a sobbing, mourning boy.
"I want him to be cremated..." Marth fought hard to keep his voice from wavering. His eyes were fixed on Rowen's face, his hands clutching at the old man's robes.
'R-rowen... I... I think I'm going to be sick. I n-need to g-get inside...'
'Alright.'
Rowen walked with Marth, keeping up appearances in front of the people, but supporting the young King at the same time. Only when they were hidden behind the castle gates did Rowen sweep Marth into his arms and carry him up into the palace. He placed him directly in his bed and collapsed in a chair beside it, giving him a small bucket in case he really was going to be sick. The hoards of advisors had been stalled by a magic-fused lock on Marth's door and Gwen sat on the floor, in a corner.
"I'm not going to pretend that I'm not angry with you."
Marth was too dizzy with heartache and fatigue to notice that Rowen had picked him up and actually carried him to his soft bed. The wall that had built itself up inside of him, forcing him to be strong and not show weakness to the people was crumbling under the strain of having to see Roy be captured, his country attacked and beaten and now his beloved and faithful horse dying right before his eyes. Momentarily overwhelmed, Marth clutched the bucket and violently vomited the meager contents of his stomach into it.
Only when his body had quieted itself and he could lie back, his head throbbing a little did he respond to Rowen's statement.
"I know... I'm sorry, Rowen... And Gwen..."
"You went gallivanting off into enemy territory, looking for Roy, and now that you're back, where is he? We could certainly use that healing power of his right about now, but I can fix you up a little." Rowen extended his trembling hands and began to work away Marth's exhaustion. Gwen, dressed in a simple white shift, got up and kneeled at the edge of the bed, but did not intrude on their conversation.
"Now, for the love of Altea, tell me what's going on!" The older mage growled in a low voice.
Marth pushed himself up on the pillow, feeling a little better thanks to Rowen's generous powers. Already, his grief was ebbing and subsiding back into his already aching heart to be put aside until later, when he had the time to deal with it properly. It was a time that seemed to be very far away.
But now he had to be a king again.
"Roy is still with the Necromancer's army, acting undercover as his general. He's going to return back over here and rejoin us as soon as he can. He's back on our side now."
"And? Did you venture all that way and learn nothing? Tell me details, boy! Are we going to lose miserably and all die a painful death?" Rowen's tone was bitter and crude. Clearly having to stay in the castle with the advisors and baby-sit Marth's kingdom hadn't improved his mood at all.
"The Necromancer doesn't want anything but us and our powers. He's determined to conquer all magic so that all that exists is his own. He wanted me to surrender, but I refused. He plans to attack soon, I think today or tonight. I was in a prison all of last night and I didn't get much information. And Roy didn't say anything to me at all. There's a chance I could get in contact with him, but I don't know how risky that would be considering that the Necromancer still has a trace hold on him."
Marth relayed this information to Rowen, hoping that the older mage would have a better idea of what to do than him. He looked down at Gwen and one of the thoughts that had flitted through his mind during the long night of isolation in the prison cell occurred to him again. He needed to talk to her later.
"That's just great. I love how all this is working out..." Rowen groaned and leaned back in his chair. "So they'll attack tomorrow, seeing as there's been no action tonight? Do you have any idea how to run an army, just in case Roy doesn't come back? He left his second-in-command in charge, but that fellow doesn't look like he can hold up under conditions like this."
The sandy-haired girl sensed Marth's eye on her and looked up, her eyes questioning.
"I apologize, Rowen..." Indeed, he was sorry that he had heaped his burden on Rowen's shoulders, but it had to be done... "I understand if you want to leave. You rightfully shouldn't have any part in this. I know how to run an army, but I just don't have the experience that Roy does. However, I think I can do it."
The innocent, curious light in Gwen's blue eyes pricked at Marth's heart. It was going to make it even harder to ask her to do what he needed her to.
"Rowen, I need to talk to Gwen privately for a few minutes. But we can finish our discussion first."
"Well, I sure hope you can do it... You may want to go talk to the troops tonight- Tell them what's going on and what to prepare for. Also don't forget to tell them to use fire. It's the only way that those zombies can be destroyed, that we know of," the mage of weather said, standing up. He picked up Gwen and deposited her in the chair gently. "I've said all that I had to say... You can call me later if I'm needed." With that, he was gone.
Cobalt blue eyes followed Rowen's back as he left the room and Marth made a mental note to take Rowen's advice and go to talk to the troops and officers - but later.
"Gwen, I have something to ask of you... And it's a request, not a command. You can say no."
The servant-girl's eyes widened. This was a rare occasion... Marth had taken her aside and was requesting something of her. It must be important.
"You're asking me this not because I am your servant... You know I would do anything for you," she said quietly.
Marth took a deep breath and sat on the edge of the bed, staring into the former slave girl's sincere face.
"Gwen, would you do me the service... no, the honor... would you do me the honor of being the mother of my child?"
The words were difficult for him to say and he was sure that they were difficult for Gwen to comprehend. He was asking her, the victim of multiple rapes and countless sexual abuse to consent to sleeping with him once for the sake of begetting an heir. But it was also more than that...
"You're one of the kindest, most gentle-hearted and loving people that I know and I know that you would be a good mother. I just... if anyone were to have the next heir to my kingdom and my child, I want it to be you..."
Gwen couldn't hold back the loud gasp that came from her small body, moving to hug her knees and stare at Marth with widened eyes. She couldn't look him in the eye, so she just focused on his mouth, trying to comprehend what he had just said.
"But... I... Me...? Why me? Out of all the beautiful women... Why do you a-ask me now? Do you think... that you're going to d-die?"
Marth was silent for an entire minute before he finally responded to Gwen's question.
"Because you're not royal, because you understand about Roy and I and what we went through." He looked at her. "Gwen, I don't know if I'm going to die or not. I hope not, but if I do, I don't want to leave Altea in a situation where there is no heir. Please Gwen."
"You… really are a good king, Marth…" Gwen responded softly, slowly lifting her eyes to Marth's.
Marth looked into her eyes, slightly surprised by her sudden boldness, but he didn't let it show lest it frighten her again.
"I try to be… It's my duty."
"… It has to be tonight, right? Because there's going to be a battle tomorrow…" The girl looked uncertain before saying, "I-I can do it."
Marth felt a tight knot in his chest loosen as she uttered her consent. He could have kissed her.
"Thank you… You don't know how much it means to the country… How much it means to me…"
"But it doesn't mean anything else, right? You still love Sir Roy, right? I don't want to intrude on your relationship with him…" Gwen questioned, a little concerned. All the while, she still couldn't believe that she was talking about going to bed with someone for the first time in many years… Images of Trave flashed through her head- Not even 5 years of freedom could push away a childhood of abuse.
"No… I still love Roy very much. You are very special to me, as a friend and companion, but Roy is my only love."
"Good… I just… wanted to make sure…" Gwen began to slip the straps of her simple shift off her shoulders, exposing her meagerly sized chest. "I know I'm not very nice to look at, so p-please don't say anything…"
"You know I'd never insult you." Marth removed his tunic, his body somewhat battered, but still relatively impressive. He extended his hand to Gwen, a gentleman to the last.
The door to Marth's chambers slid open noiselessly as the very person who had put a magic lock on it in the first place broke the lock and came in. The weary old mage of weather glided in gracefully and approached the bed.
'Marth?' He woke the sleeping King up with a mental tug, glancing at Gewn as he did so. The girl looked pale, drops of sweat still visible on the sheets where she rested. Rowen's eyes dropped to where Gwen's two small hands were clutching one of Marth's own for support.
The blue-haired man awoke without moving, raising his eyes to Rowen's face.
'Don't say anything please until I can explain.' Marth eased out of the bed, slipping his hand out of Gwen's as gently as he could. He touched her face lightly, bidding her body to sleep a while longer. It wasn't until he and Rowen were out of the room did he turn to the mage, a question in his tired eyes.
"You need to go tell those soldiers what their opposition is like. It's not fair to them if they go to battle tomorrow with a legion of un-dead zombies and not know about it," Rowen said, his tone heavy.
"I know." Marth's voice was momentarily muffled as he pulled on his tunic. "I'll go do that now… Rowen, what did you do with Cloud?"
"Your noble steed is being cremated as we speak, as per your request… Gods, I'm beginning to sound like one of your damned advisors. This is the end."
Marth eyed Rowen, his expression weighted down.
"You've served me several times over, old man… Go back to your wilderness. I've no right to keep you here."
"Look, I'm not going anywhere," Rowen stated. "Especially not now- You might need my help (I'm not completely powerless, you know) and I know one girl who's going to want someone to be there when she wakes up."
"You know how to make me feel guilty, don't you? I'm beginning to think you like it…" Marth told Rowen heavily.
"I only say the truth," He answered simply. "I still can't believe that you did that to Gwen, though… To someone like her, I don't think going to bed with someone can be consensual ever again, but I don't know. You tell me." The man closed his eyes for a moment and looked away, clamping his mouth shut.
Annoyance crossed Marth's face.
"Look Rowen, I didn't do anything to Gwen. I have too much respect for her feelings and too much love for Roy to sleep with her because I felt like it. I asked her and she said yes, for the sake of perpetuating the Lowell line. I don't want anything to happen to me and leave Altea without an heir. Do you?"
"No, of course not. But what do I know about ruling a country? I wasn't bred for the role, so don't listen to me." Rowen said, walking away.
He knew that he had offended Rowen… or something, and he was sorry. But he couldn't concentrate on it now.
"Rowen, I'm sorry. But please be here for Gwen." He stood and walked to the barracks.
"Your Majesty! We've been awaiting your return!" Roy's second-in-command ran up to Marth eagerly. He, along with the rest of the kingdom, looked edgy, weary and depressed all at the same time. But the sight of his king gave him hope.
"General Hadrian," Marth's strong, confident voice betrayed how he truly felt. The odds were stacked against them, but the fact that Roy was alive and on their side again lifted his spirits. "What is our status?"
"Well… You know the number of our troops, but as far as the men are concerned, they're all really jittery and restless. We've been under siege for quite a while, but they haven't made a move! Do you have an idea on when they will strike?"
"I have it on impeccable authority that they will attack tomorrow at daybreak."
Hadrian's eyes nearly doubled in size as he caught himself from gaping in shock.
"Tomorrow?! But Your Majesty, we can't possibly be ready by then…"
"It's your job to make sure that we can." Marth replied grimly.
The discussion was closed.
Bloodshot cobalt eyes stared at the capital city that lay before him, unblinking and vacant. His hands shook feverishly as he gripped the reins of the horse he was mounted on way too tightly.
"Nervous, General?" A heavy, rotting hand clapped him on the back and he almost passed out from the stench.
"Not at all, Gaimen," Roy replied through clenched teeth, forcing himself not to glare at the zombie astride the horse directly beside him.
Gaimen had been with him for several hours now, plotting his battle schemes and the way they would crush the King of Altea. A shudder passed through Roy's body as he tried to block the memories of being in the same room as Gaimen and Trave for the past few hours. Sure enough, the Necromancer had sent them as promised.
'Marth… This is killing me…' He thought hopelessly, knowing that his plea would never actually reach his partner.
Gaimen cackled, looking back at the huge legions of zombie-soldiers behind them.
"Let's march."
A distinct feeling of unease swamped Marth's emotions as he stood on the castle wall, his blue hair and cape stirred by the breeze. There wasn't a living creature within twenty miles of the castle. All livestock had been slaughtered, all the people were safely inside the walls. He had ordered the armies to stay inside as well, until there was no other resort. Any man who died on the battlefield could be risen and made into the enemy. Any dead were to be burned.
Marth knew deep down in the pit of his stomach that this battle would be a bad one. Many men would die. Maybe even he would die. Maybe he was already dead and just didn't know it. But that wasn't it. There was something else, something that he had not foreseen. Something bad was coming.
"Your Majesty, I see them! The enemy army approaching!" A scout cried, pointing off into the distance.
Every head turned in the direction the man had pointed, including Marth's. Indeed, he could see the outline and the dust in the air on the horizon.
'Roy...'
'No... I can't do this... I won't do this...' Roy thought frantically, his eyes flicking back and forth from Gaimen, to the capital, to the thousands of soldiers behind him. Gaimen had just ordered them to destroy every building that made up the city outside the castle gates.
He let out a yell and reined his horse in, turning around sharply and galloping towards a squad of soldiers. The young general called upon his powers and unleashed a huge vortex of fire on them, torching them to ashes.
"Roy, you fool!" Gaimen did the same and came up so that his horse was aligned with Roy's. He reached out and yanked Roy's head back by grabbing a handful of his auburn hair and breaking his concentration.
"Better to be a fool than a traitor!" Roy yelled in defiance, trying to jerk himself away from Gaimen's grip. That hand let up and another hand was now at his arm, clenching so tight that Roy thought it might bruise. He pulled him along and their horses were walking side by side again.
"Don't try a stunt like that again. You are in charge of the master's army, or did you forget?"
"My loyalty lies with Marth!"
"So it would seem. Come now, you wouldn't want to miss our big entrance, now would you?"
Trave glanced over at the two bickering generals and rolled his eyes. Or more aptly, his eye-sockets. Gaimen was a great friend due to their similar interests, but he had no skill in manipulation. Or at least, Gaimen's methods were far too ham-handed and obvious for him anyways.
In life, the slaver had been a man of great elegance and reputable charm and beauty, but it was all gone now. Having died several moths prior to Gaimen, his corpse body was in a more advanced state of deterioration. His eyes had long since rotted out, leaving only cobwebs in their place, befitting his haggard, eaten-away face. One ear was gone, as well as most of his nose and his lips and cheeks were full of holes that gaped whenever he talked, the stringy tissue giving a perfect example of the muscular anatomy of a once-beautiful face. His body fared no better, bones showing through rotted, hanging flesh, his once-fine clothes moth-eaten and full of holes.
Smiling a horrific skeleton smile, Trave pointed with a decaying hand towards the castle.
"Do you see your lover-Prince there? Wave to him since I doubt you'll be talking together again. Alive in any case."
The feeling of wrong-ness increased suddenly as Marth sensed a lurch of magic and a sudden surge of anger. Roy was in trouble, or else he wouldn't have let his magic flare so. Or more trouble than was expected.
Marth reached for Roy's mind, narrowing his eyes at the figure of his general on the horizon in concentration.
'Roy!'
"Get your slimy hands off me!" Roy struggled against the hand that was half bone and half skin. He could feel the horse underneath him begin to shift its weight, getting antsy from the movement above.
'I can't let you destroy my entire army...' Came the voice in his head.
He looked down and saw his body grow calm on its own, and his arms grab the reins to steer the animal towards Altea.
'No... I can't control myself... I don't want to fight Marth!'
Was it his hallucination, or did he really see Marth down there?
The soldiers heard a deep snarling noise and looked around, perplexed to see what was making it. Only when their eyes stopped at Marth did they realize that it was the king himself.
"That's it... saddle Cloud for me and-" Marth cut himself off, realizing that Cloud was dead. He couldn't ride out into battle with him.
"Damn it to hell..." He cursed under his breath. Whoever those two men were, they were hurting Roy mentally and physically and he could feel it. Marth's hand tightened on Falcion's hilt. There was more than one way to skin a cat... or destroy an army.
"Saddle my horse, I'm going to the front with the soldiers. Nobody get near me..." Marth growled, turning and rushing down the stairs to the lower levels, his cape whirling behind him.
'Roy, shield yourself when you see me riding out!' He sent to his partner with as much force as he could, making sure that Roy heard him.
Marth's voice was faint and weak in his head, but he heard his king nevertheless. That voice was soon joined with the low hissing one of the Necromancer and the cry of protest from his own mind. Roy's eyes began to flame with fervor and he spurred his horse into a fast gallop, straight towards Marth.
He watched as one hand gripped the reins and one unsheathed his sword, charging straight towards Marth. They would fight... Perhaps to the death.
"I'm going to kill you, King Marth of Altea!" A voice exploded from Roy's lips, but it wasn't his own.
Falcion was a cold, familiar hardness in the hands of the King of Altea, a hardness that Marth knew all too well. A snarl curled Marth's lip, knowing that it wasn't his lover who was promising his death. He dug his spurred heels into the sides of the blood bay gelding beneath him, driving the horse forward.
He swept the enchanted sword up, the blade becoming something like ice, veined through by blue magic.
"Just try it, Necromancer!" Marth shouted, pointing Falcion towards the warrior who was not Roy. His power was channelled through the sword and blasted at both the general and the legions of zombie troops behind him.
"You will fall by the hand of your lover's sword!" Roy heard himself yell as they clashed together once, as if in a joust. He whirled his horse around and doubled back, snarling.
The smell of death was everywhere, filling Roy's senses completely. Several yards behind Marth were the soldiers of Altea, confused as to why their High General was going into battle with the King. But another figure came into view, one that they had not seen for a very long time...
"Marth!" Gaimen barked from the side, allowing a smirk to spread across his un-dead face.
Confrontation was inevitable.
To be continued…
Xan: ;_____; Cloud is dead. *weeps*
Vallen: Well, it looks like this story is going to be coming to a close… Not right now, but soon. No more than six chapters to go, I'm predicting. I could be wrong. Thank all of you for reading!
Oh, and FF.net doesn't like posting links, so I'm going to try again with the stuff that was cut from last chapter… Copy and paste it. If it doesn't work, put the www's in front.