Madelyn's Choice

By Becki ^___^

© Fire Emblem

All characters and ideas copyrighted to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems

Chapter Two: Warrior of Sacae

With an elbow on the saddle of his horse, Hassar let out a breath and stared into the sky. Caelin was nothing compared to the lands of Sacae. Too noisy, too crowded. People massed all around the market, and there were unusual scents in the air. His dark emerald hair of the Sacae plainspeople was tied back with a black bandana. A ring dangled on his ear in the moaning wind as his black eyes looked over the busy town.

A simple traveler he was. Nothing more. A friend had told him of all the wondrous things the lands of Lycia had compared to Sacae. But... how wrong he was.

Hassar remembered his eagerness to start a journey. After he vowed to return to his tribe and take his father's place as chieftain, he had prayed in the temple of the Mani Katti. His prayer was simple. For guidance in his leadership skills and choosing the right path.

As a man of the Lorca tribe, he yet remembered his duties. He was the only child of his family, for his older sister had passed away with an unexpected illness. Once he felt lost in the world, and this feeling returned.

Finally deciding to ride back into town, he mounted his tawny horse, a strong mare with a pallid brown gaze. As he rode through the crowds, he saw the soldiers of Caelin joking and making merry. There seemed to be an occasion of some kind, the crowd was in good spirits.

And as he looked up, Hassar could see Castle Caelin upon the hill. It was, he admitted, a more impressive sight than the gers of the tribes were. Built of strong stone and surrounded by white walls. Hassar never had a fondness towards the nobility. As he was growing up, the dwellers of Sacae told stories of the ambitious Lycian nobles. Their prejudice against the nomads distrust toward them. Did not Hanon join Roland in the battle that had won them power?

Turning his head away, he pulled on the reins and directed the horse down towards the field west of the town. There were a few solitary trees planted in their own preference of the ground. A few houses remained ahead, but Hassar felt more at home in this field. Taking the mare off of the path that led to the castle, his free hand played with the feathers of the quiver by his side. Dismounting as they met the tree, he let go of the reins, trusting the mare's loyalty.

He was not so far from town, but he was far enough to avoid the distractions. He sat down at the tree's roots, let out a deep breath, than stared at the clear sky once more. As his eyes followed the hills slopes and gentle terrain, he guided his gaze across the land.

There was a clothed figure which descended from the Castle of Caelin. A figure cloaked in navy, face hidden. In the warmth of the sun, it was hard to imagine this person being comfortable in such heavy clothing.

Narrowing his eyes, Hassar watched the figure. Perhaps.. he or she was a shaman? Clothed in the dark apparel to train in the dark arts? As he watched, the person's figure soon proved to be one belonging to a female's frame. As his curiosity intensified, he saw the dark cloaked stranger stumble closer to the town.

In case of danger or whatever may happen, Hassar looked to his mare. The horse was feeding delicately at the grass, tail whipping the air pointlessly. Quickly he whistled and stood up. The mare lifted her head, and trotted to him obediently. Swinging a leg over the saddle, he pulled gently on the reins and goaded her back towards the town.

With a sharp gaze, he made sure to follow the female figure with his eyes. In case she would not be so friendly, he made sure his reach was not far from his bow or sword.

Through the streets his target of curiosity was swallowed by the crowds, but his eyes followed behind closely.

Realizing it was only harder to move through the crowds with his mare, Hassar backed off to one side and dismounted. With a quick motion of his hands, he ordered the horse to stay at that spot. With a snort the mare shook her head, but reluctantly agreed.

As a tall-built individual, Hassar could see over most of the heads in the crowd. Minding his way through he saw the dark cloaked person approach a stall where a man was selling fruit. Hassar stopped and leaned close the a building, watching curiously.

The cloaked woman did not lower her hood, but she seemed to be talking to the salesman. The man listened than simply shrugged. After he had done so, his attention was caught by a passing customer. Politely the mysterious woman backed away and started to walk among the crowds towards Hassar.

A few feet away from him at this moment, she stopped a passing woman and asked her. As subtle as possible, the Lorca plainsman could barely pick up the words.

"Do you know when Marquess Araphen is to arrive here in Caelin?" Her voice was strong. An arduous voice with a firm foundation. She had a light accent and precise diction. It was a voice accustomed to giving orders.

"I know not, miss." The old lady replied, and seemed to be anxious to get on her way. The cloaked lady neatly.

"Oh.. thank you anyway." The woman nodded in return and scurried away with a hurry. As the cloaked lady gathered the cloth of her cloak at her neck, she started to walk passed Hassar when he addressed her quietly.

"Are you an assassin hoping for an attempt on the Marquess' life?" He asked in a collected manner. Startled, the woman looked up and saw him leaning against the wall. As she looked at him, he could see most of her face. Milk-white skin and a delicate expression. She was younger than he had expected her to be.

And she smiled wryly.

"And if I were.." She said, not completely answering his question. "would it matter to a Sacaen hunter as yourself?" He was clearly surprised at her quick response and the fact she could pick him out as a plainsperson so easily.

"I've seen many travelers in my days.. But I can see you are different."

"Oh?" She looked around a bit uneasy. "I am afraid I don't understand what you are speaking of."

"My proof has come from your lips." He said simply. "The way you act and speak." And she seemed offended by this statement.

"There is nothing wrong with the way I speak, sir."

"Aye, but it sets you apart from any other townsperson here."

"......"

"And you conceal your face. Is there something you hide?" Unexpectedly after he spoke these words, she slowly raised her slender arms. As her fingers came to the lip of her hood, she gripped the sides wistfully. Then after the hesitant pause, she let the hood fall away from her face.

And she was even more lovely in the light.

Auburn hair fell and twisted along her chin and rose over elegant eyebrows. Her eyes were bright in the sun, her pale face not used to the warm glare. And as her hood fell over her shoulders, she dropped her hands.

There was an awkward silence which followed.

Hassar could not let himself forget the fact that he had spotted her coming down from the castle. Perhaps he could be wrong and picking a conversation with the wrong person. She could have simply been a messenger, it would explain her high-class voice and etiquette. Crossing his arms, he asked her a simple question.

"What is your name?"

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"Ma-" She caught herself as she said it. What was she thinking, giving her name to a complete stranger? Revealing her face was bad enough, and now..

But as she looked at him once again, she saw that he was waiting patiently for an answer. This man, a man from the fields of Sacae.. he seemed friendly but highly observant. Why was her heart so heavy?

"Madelyn."

Stupid, stupid, stupid. She thought to herself, the unladylike words ringing through her head as she finished giving her name. And red warmth flushed her face and neck as she looked down. But if this man now did know she was the Marquess' daughter, he did a fine job of not letting it escape on his expression.

"I am Hassar of the Lorca Tribe." He introduced himself yet with an expressionless face, he bowed his head.

..N-now what? She thought miserably. Her main goal was to somehow turn the Marquess of Araphen away from Caelin, and now she had given her identity to a man she had met minutes before.

"And where do you come from, Dame Madelyn?" Madelyn looked up in surprise. So.. he didn't know after all. Slowly, she tried to think of a good answer.

"I do not--"

She heard a familiar voice in the blended chorus of the crowds. She turned quickly to see a young man dressed in silver armor wandering the streets with a band of other nights.

Wallace! She groaned as she recognized him instantly. And she knew he would recognize her quickly as well. Without another word, she flung up her hood. Nodding briskly to Hassar, she returned to the sea of people.

She did not her him call her, which was for the better. Managing her way through the crowds, she did not look back until she reached the edge of town.

Then she realized there was nothing more she could do until the banquet commenced. She would have to speak to her suitors herself.

And she fled home, unable to stay any longer with her thoughts.

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A pointless yet important chapter ^^; Sorry it's so short, I didn't feel like lengthening it -__-