My ear is twisting in all the thoughts-A glimpse of truce just because-It's always almost never close-I close my eyes to hide the distance.-Truce-Jars of Clay
To really understand who you are you have to look past what you do, and say to what you think. The nicest person can have the worst intentions, or be suffering more then anyone thinks possible. Actions, and words can be schooled. Pain can be masked with laughs, anger, and hate with friendly smiles. Confusion, and sorrow can be covered with a mask of blood. Actions, and words are nothing to look at when trying to find out who you are. You have to look at your deepest thoughts, the underlying work of your mind, and thoughts. The inner workings of your soul.
How do you find your deepest thoughts when they're buried under a sea of smiles, and blood. How do you see the inner workings of your soul when it's presence is tainted beyond comprehension? How do you find yourself when everything you knew is a lie, and yet true? How can you keep yourself above water when you have nothing more to hold onto? How can you keep sane when the only thing keeping you there was lost years ago to the malice of your own being?
I stood in the halls of Castle Ostia, the night wind blowing sweetly through the stone corridors. This was a fortress. Every aspect of it was designed to be a last resort defense of the city, and it had held under Nergal's storm. But, another problem had appeared to me, one I could not over look, and no one else could either, if they knew about it. I looked at my hand, calloused from the years of sword work, and the small scars gathered from the practice. I walked along the worn halls, the thick tapestries depicting the Eight Generals battling with dragons.
My eyes stopped one the scene of Roland wielding the Durandal. I took a small step back. I could see Ninian, her head arched back, and her giant body tense. I could see the Durandal's deadly arc, splitting flesh, and bone as it fell, and the sickening cracks that shivered through the sword into the arms that held it. The deadly flow of blood that burned, and stank of dragon. The dead face of a girl who had loved her killer, and smiled at her murderer. I turned quickly from the tapestry. The wound was still too fresh, and it would never heal if I kept picking at it.
I walked down the hall again, and continued my restless travel. I could not sleep with the nagging voice in the back of my head. I found my feet carrying me down a familiar corridor, and to the small wooden door that lead to the gardens. I nodded to the sentry, and pushed the door open. The soft moonlight seemed to beckoning me out into the court yard. The fountain babbled softly in the night, and I ran my fingers though the chilled water. I walked down the paved ways, and finally stopped. I examined the tree before me, recalling it had been a wonderful climbing tree. I placed a hand on the rough bark, and leaned my head against it.
There was something almost peaceful. A small shard of reassurance that held my slipping fingers more firmly in place. In the quiet of the moonlit garden, something found its place in the turmoil of my soul. A soft soprano song carried to my ears, accompanied by a low alto, and bass. The voices blend, and though I cannot make out the words I can remember hearing the melody many times before. It was a simple song that I had heard the followers of Saint Elimine singing often in their monasteries.
"'May she keep us on our travels, and hold us in her arms forever.'" I found myself saying softly. I smiled a little, and pulled my hand from the tree. I moved further into the garden, remembering the turns better as I went. This part of the garden was the one the children had been allowed to play in when the adults had needed to talk. I was surprised to find someone sitting on one to the stone benches. The singing had grown louder, words now intelligible. I walked softly up behind the person sitting the bench, and frowned at the familiar blue hair.
I didn't know what to say. Could I escape again without being seen? Did I really want to? Should I leave? Could I? "Hector..."
Hector ducked his head, then snatched it up, he turned, and the wet trails on his cheeks caught in the moonlight. He seemed just as surprised to see me as I was to find him out in the garden so late. "Eliwood? What're you doing out here so late?" Hector asked.
"I could ask you the same thing." I reminded him. "Shouldn't you be resting? We have much to do before we leave."
"You should be resting as well. You need it more then I do." Hector grumbled.
"I can't sleep." I cocked my head and sighed. "Hector, I'm sorry to hear about Uther, he..he was a good man, and not deserve the death he received." Hector stiffened, and frowned.
"How did you find out about that?"
"Oswin dropped a few hints, and I managed to get a few words out of Matthew, and Serra." I looked out across the courtyard. 'May her blessings fall on the needy as the go, Let her knowledge be spread so all may know,'
"Should have known. I really wasn't supposed to know then." Hector sighed. "Why didn't he want me to find out?" Hector sighed, and rubbed his forehead. The gesture was one of Uther's own.
I chuckled sadly. The two brothers had been different as night and day, but now, in the pale light, I could almost swear Uther was sitting on the bench in front of me. I shook me head at the absurd thought.
"Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to sit?" Hector asked. I watched him, and then sat slowly on the stone bench.
I watched him, and felt a small smile tug at my lips. "We'll be ruling together, Hector. You'll be Marquess of Ostia now that your brother is dead."
"Heh, I never thought I'd have to be Marquess. I always excepted to be a General, or something like that, but never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would actually be the Marquess of Ostia." Hector shook his head, and gave me an almost amused smile. "I think my parents are rolling over in their graves right now. Crap, Lycia's in for some tough days."
"You're right. Laus, doesn't have a Marquess, or anyone to take over. Erik's out of the running after what had happened, and the next relative is the new Marquess of Santarauz." I furrowed my brow in thought. Politics had been taught to me ever since I was old enough to understand our government, and maybe even a little before that.
"Don't forget about Bern." Hector shook his head. "I still wouldn't put it past them to jump on us when we show a weakness. They've easily got twice our military strength." I fell silent. The singing had stopped sometime during our talk.
"Eliwood, here's your circlet?"Hector asked, tapping where his own would be if he ever wore it. My hand went up to my head, and briefly brushed the place it had been.
"I lost it." I brought my hand back down, and averted my eyes. "It's lost for a while, but you were too busy to notice."
"Eh, you just look different without it. You were almost always wearing the darn thing." Hector chuckled. "You hit Erik when he tried to drop it in the garden pond."
"I did not hit him. I skewered him on my sword." I protested half-heartedly.
"Yes, and a fine ash twig it was." Hector nodded gravely, and looked across the garden. I pulled a leg onto the bench, and leaned my cheek against it.
"We're going to Dread Isle after we get supplies right?"
"Yes." Hector looked back at me. "Are you ready for this Eliwood? We're going to confront Nergal, and it's gonna be tough."
"I'll manage." I toyed with the ties of my boots. "Hector..."
"Hmmm?" He looked half-asleep.
"If Nergal manages to summon a dragon I don't think I'll be able to kill it." I murmured.
"Who says he'll be able to summon a dragon in the first place?" Hector asked. He looked more awake then he had.
"No one, but if he does manage to, if somehow he calls a dragon to this side of Dragon's Gate..." I shuddered. "Hector, I can't even look Nils in the eyes, what makes you think I'll be able to kill another dragon?"
"Because it won't be Ninian." Hector frowned.
"No, but she was a dragon, wasn't she?" I refused to meet Hector's curious look. "I don't think I can kill another dragon." I shook my head. "I killed one dragon, one of the beasts that threatened to wipe out the human race, and look what happened to me. I fell apart. I lost myself, or I realized I had. I couldn't find any peace. I couldn't make sense of anything, not even when I hurt myself. Nothing helped... and nothing is helping."
I shook my head again. "I'm scared to even touch the Durandel. Every time I do I can feel its's hunger for blood. It scours my flesh, and I actually want Nergal to succeed in summoning a dragon so the sword can have its thirst filled. I actually want too be bathed in dragon's blood again, no matter who it is. I can't wield that sword again Hector. I can't!"
"If Nergal does summon a dragon you'll have to, and it's going to be very useful against Nergal himself Eliwood." Hector reached out a hand, and put it on my shoulder. "We've all got to do our best in this fight, no matter what sacrifices we have to make Nergal must be taken down. Besides, I'll be there watching you, along with Lyndis, and everyone else as well."
"I.." I drew a sharp breath, and found my eyes stung. "I can't do it Hector..I'm scared. I actually scared of losing myself more. I can't stand the thought of not knowing who I am anymore. I'd rather die then live like that, and I know I would. I couldn't make myself live anymore... I can't use the Durandal again."
"What do you want me to say? I can't tell you that you won't have to, but you had better not die." Hector gave me a stern look. "I'm going to need all the help I can putting Lycia back together after this, and Lady Eleanor needs you as well. If nothing else you have to go home for her." She would be waiting. Sitting by a window doing needlework, or talking to her ladies. She was waiting for me to come home to her, and I had to. I needed to go home. Maybe there I could find out who I was.
"I didn't realize how selfish I am, everything seems to revolve around what I want, what I need to make myself better." I chuckled dryly. "I really am worthless Hector. I can't even put aside my wants to save the world. I can't even work up the courage to pick up a sword. It's like you said, the would doesn't revolve around me and my problems. I've just got to pick them up, and move on." I've got to find someway to keep going.
Everyone used to say how unselfish I was as a boy. I never asked for anything; it was always for someone else. I was quiet, submissive, but 'amazingly' cheerful. My mother had been congratulated on having such a wonderful child, and my father was as well. What a wonderful Marquess Eliwood would make, and how lucky he was so close to next Marquess of Ostia's younger brother. How lucky my parents were to have me as a child, and how cursed.
They deserved better. My father deserved a fearless child who would lead charges with a brave face, and who would have acted as soon as his father disappeared. Mother deserved a loving child who she would be able to lean on after her husbands death. A child who wasn't worried about their sanity, and fretting over killing a dragon.
A dragon!
As a child I had played at killing dragons, I was a brave knight, fearlessly charging forth to smash the evil creatures before the crushed my country. I enjoyed the games until I was eight, and then I had a thought-what about the dragons? Just because every tale deemed them evil was I to mindlessly slaughter them? Did not dragon's have families? If not from a mother where did the dragon young come from? Weren't they like humans in a way? Didn't they feel pain?
I had stopped my fights against the imaginary beasts that day. I never played at killing dragons again, and was horrified by the gruesome tale of the scouring I was told at ten. I asked my teacher if he didn't feel sorry for the dragons, and he laughed long and hard. 'No one feels sorry for dragons.' No one feels sorry for murdering beasts.
"But I'm no better then they." I laughed harshly. "I am no better then those 'murdering beasts' were."
"What are you talking about?" Hector asked with a questioning look. "If you're trying to say you're no better then the black Fang I think you've finally lost it."
I laughed, clutching my sides in odd amusement. "No, no not the Black Fang Hector. Dragons! Don't you remember what our History teacher said-'Dragons were murdering beasts.'?"
"You're comparing yourself to a dragon?" Hector shook his head in futile thought.
"And why not? I killed without hesitation, and enjoyed it. I thought I was protecting everyone, but I wasn't. I killed Ninian because of what she was, and I'm no better the dragons humans fought during the scouring-if they were thoughtless murderers." I hugged my knees to my chest, and refused to look at Hector.
"What are you talking about? You're not a murdering beast Eliwood! You said yourself the Durandal moved on its own. You didn't mean to kill Ninian, and she knew it." Hector snapped angrily.
"How do you know? How am I supposed to know who moved first? The sword wanted it, yes, but so did I. I didn't want the dragon to live either. I-I killed her as much as the sword did. I let myself be used by that blade, and-" I shook my head, and looked at Hector. "I'm never using it again!"
"You may have to." Hector's voice softened, and the smile on his face was one I had never seen there. It was weary, comforting-an old man's smile.
"Hector, don't look at me like that." I shook my head. "You're not an old man yet, and it will be many years till you see your end." The words were not my own, they were my father's spoken to Uther before me father disappeared.
Hector chuckled roughly, and stood. "That's right Eliwood, and I plan for you to grow old with me. After we defeat Nergal, and whatever he tosses our way." He paused. "Eliwood he may actually call a dragon, and you will have to kill it."
"What if I can't? I'm not the person you grew up believing I was Hector." It smiled. "I'm not the person I grew up believing I was."
"You may not be, but you have the royal blood of Pherae in you. That hasn't failed you as much as you may think. No Pheraen noble has backed down from a challenge, and I don't think you'll be the first." Hector gave me his encouraging, cocky grin, and offered me a hand. "Now, you've only got to take it easy till we reach Dread Isle, and remember, I've got your back Eliwood, and I hope you've got mine."
I took Hector's hand, and he all but pulled me to my feet. "And know, let's see if we can get some sleep before dawn, if you think you can." His voice was worn, frayed at the edges, and weary. It smiled, and nodded.
"I'll see you in the morning Hector." It gave him an almost bow, and walked down the garden path. There would be no sleep for me, not for many nights, and none peaceful until Nergal was dead.
A/N:Fooh, there you have it, chapter nineteen! Eliwood opens up to Hector, and Hector listen while coping with his grief. Poor Hector. Oh, and this is AU mostly because of ages, in the game Eliwood and Hector are roughly twenty four-as I decided from their C support, please correct me if I'm wrong- and in this story he's younger then Lyndis who's eighteen.
Ninety-one reviews! Egads! Thank you all so very, very much! Please keep telling me what you think, and what I did wrong. Jaa ne!