Fourth of the many updates/new fics I've been promising, the last one that will be FE related. :shrugs: I'd ask you to read "To Commune With a Spirit", "Believe in Me", and the new chapter of "Wish", but probably no one reads this anyway. XD

I PROMISE this is the last Matthew/Leila thing I'm going to put you through. :D I just thought... since I have a "future" one and a "present" one... Why not have a "past" fic? XD To complete the trilogy! Haha.

Since we don't really get to know the pasts of many of the characters, I've had to... make up my own for Matthew and Leila. So for this fic, Leila will be an orphan taken in by Marquess Ostia (Hector's father) at a young age, and Matthew will be sent there by his parents because they feel he'd be happier there. (And because of another reason, but that will be revealed in the fic. XD) Yes, Matthew and Leila will seem REALLY OOC in the beginning, but I just wanted to use that to show how much they affected each other as time went by. Besides, I couldn't resist writing Matthew as a crybaby. XD Sorry if it's offending... T-T At least they'll be a lot like their adult selves by the end of the fic! (Well... they WILL be their adult selves by the end of the fic...) So... I guess... Just endure it 'til the end? Haha. Oh, and they're about eight in the beginning. XD

Forgive the incredibly lame "oath of fealty". I didn't know what to write so I just made up some random lines... XD And I just realized how this sounds a lot like Colm/Neimi... x-X Ah... and I kinda messed up with the whole succession thing with Uther just becoming marquess so I... included my own explanation of that. XD

It's Castle Ostia, right? I'm too lazy to go and check it. There's Bern Keep and Castle Pherae...

Italics are thoughts, as usual. XD

Disclaimer: Don't own Fire Emblem. WANT to own cute little 8-year-old Matthew, but I don't. XD

A Promise Is a Promise (One-shot)

"A little boy is coming to stay today. He's going to be just like you, Leila, so you'll have to be nice to him, all right?"

The young rosy red-haired girl, to whom the statement was addressed, looked up from her play, which involved poking at a lost ant with a stick. "Just like me? What's that supposed to mean, milord? Is he going to be a girl?"

The marquess chuckled and placed a hand on Leila's head, ruffling her hair slightly. "No, Leila. He's going to be a spy like you, and that's why I'm counting on you to show him around when he comes. Can you do that for me, Leila?"

The girl tossed away her stick, the ant having run out of her reach. "Aww..." Leila pouted. "It's always a boy. How come there aren't ever any girls?"

"Hahaha. That just makes you special, my dear. And you know, they say the boy's quite the handsome devil," Marquess Ostia laughed. "But you will be nice to him, won't you?"

The young spy-in-training grinned. "All right. But only if he's not annoying!"

"I'm going to take your word for it. Come on, Leila. It's about time for lunch."

Leila cracked a huge smile at those words and shouted, "I'll race you, milord!" before speeding off.

The marquess sighed and shook his head. "Leila, I'm too old for this! Oh! Watch out-"

A door slammed open, barely missing the girl by a few inches as a soldier rushed into the courtyard. "Milord! You have a visitor!"

"And that would probably be that boy I was talking about. Why don't you come with me, Leila? Looks like lunch will have to wait."

The two made an odd couple as they made their way through the winding halls of Castle Ostia together, one young and energetic, dashing through the corridors, the other worn and tired, stopping every few moments for a quick breath. They were greeted in the throne room by another soldier, and the marquess signaled to the guards at the door to let the visitor in. A woman, dressed in the simple clothes of the peasantry, passed through the gates, followed closely by her young son, hands clenched firmly onto his mother's dress.

Leila gave the boy a careful scrutiny. He was thin and scrawny; his hair was a complete mess; his eyes were darting, scared. The woman, seeing the marquess, immediately knelt down, motioning for her son to do the same.

Marquess Ostia smiled. "Please, get up, my good woman. This is Matthew, correct?"

The woman nodded. "Yes, milord. We are a poor family of farmers, and our son tries t'help out as best he can. He... just doesn't know how t'go 'bout it the proper way, I'm 'fraid."

"I understand. Matthew? Would you come here? We're going to need you to swear an oath of fealty if you're going to work for House Ostia."

Matthew, however, only hid behind his mother, tears beginning to swell up in his eyes. "P-Please don't go..." he whispered in his mother's ear. "I-I don't want to be alone."

"It's all right, dear. The marquess is a nice man. He won't hurt you. You'll be happier here, I reckon," the woman said soothingly as she gave her son a hug and wiped away his tears.

"Don't worry, Matthew. After you finish your training, you'll be able to see your family whenever you're off-duty," Marquess Ostia added. "And that will probably be often; there's not much going on in Elibe right now. No one will hurt you here, I promise."

Leila, on the other hand, only rolled her eyes.

Crybaby.

Still sobbing lightly, Matthew slowly walked up the stairs to the marquess' throne, turning his head back every few steps to check that his mother was still there. Once the boy had reached the top of the stairs, Marquess Ostia looked upon him with kindly eyes and instructed, "All right, Matthew. Just repeat after me. From this moment forth."

"From th-this moment forth..."

"I am under the rule and guidance."

"I am under the rule and g-guidance."

"Of House Ostia."

"Of House Ostia..."

"I shall do only as the marquess commands."

"I shall do...?"

"Only as the marquess commands."

"Only as... as the marquess commands."

"And I shall serve."

"And I shall serve."

"The people of Ostia."

"The... the people of Ostia."

"With my life."

"With my... l-life."

The marquess of Ostia applauded when the boy finished stammering through the last line, not having dared to look up the whole time. "That was excellent work, Matthew. Congratulations. Now, there's someone I'd like you to meet. She's the same age as you, I believe. Leila?"

"Yes, milord?" The girl stepped out from behind the throne, startling poor Matthew, who had finally decided to look about at his surroundings.

The marquess gave a slight chuckle at the boy's reaction. "Why don't you take our new spy here for some lunch? I'm sure he's hungry."

"Yes, milord." Leila grumbled. "Come on, crybaby. Let's go," she muttered as she grabbed Matthew's hand brusquely and dragged him away while he took one last frightened look at his mother.

As the two passed through the halls leading to the servants' dining quarters, one being dragged and the other dragging, Matthew started to break into tears again, already missing his family. Leila sighed and roughly let go of the sobbing boy's hand, forcing him to fall to the floor.

"Why are you such a crybaby?" she questioned harshly. "I know I promised that I'd be nice to you, but you're so annoying! The dining quarters are just down the hallway if you get hungry, but I want nothing to do with you from now on!"

Angrily, she stomped off, leaving Matthew confused and scared on the ground.

A few moments later found Leila happily chewing away at a chicken leg, almost having forgotten that her charge had not shown up for lunch yet. A light tap on her shoulder reminded her of that fact, and she swiveled around in her chair to see Matthew looking at her apologetically, the telltale signs of dried tears on his face. Leila huffed and resumed her meal while Matthew quietly got into the chair next to her, grabbed a piece of bread from a nearby basket, and munched away meekly.

When she was finished with her chicken, Leila turned to stare at the boy, noting that he was indeed not ugly, despite the bread crumbs coating his face.

"So," she began, "let's try this again. My name is Leila. It's nice to meet you."

Matthew hastily swallowed his last bit of bread and wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve. "N-Name's Matthew. Nice to meet you too."

Leila was surprised at his accent; it did not sound very country-like at all. Then again, she hadn't been listening closely when he had been swearing his oath of fealty. "That's funny. You don't talk like your mother."

The boy beamed proudly. "My father was a scholar once. He taught me everything I know. I can even read and write! Do you want to see?"

"Maybe some other time. You're lucky. I don't even remember my parents. Castle Ostia has been my home for as long as I know, and the marquess is like a father to me. Hey! Don't you dare start crying again!"

Matthew blinked hard. "I-I'm not crying. I just got something in my eye."

Hopping down from the seat, Leila smirked. "Sure. Since I guess I'm stuck with you from now on, I might as well give you the grand tour," she said, walking off.

Following her example, Matthew hopped down as well and followed his guide hesitantly. "I-I thought you said you didn't want anything to do with me?"

"Sheesh. You can't be so literal if you want to be a spy. You've got to be sneaky, like this," Leila explained as she slipped past a maid setting a platter of sandwiches down on a table, swiping one in the process without being noticed.

That action attracted Matthew's interest as he momentarily forgot his nervousness and stated proudly, "That's easy. I was the best thief in my hometown. No one could catch me."

"So that's why you got sent here. A troublemaker, huh? You know something? I think you and I could be best friends."

"B-Best friends?" The nervousness was back.

"Yeah." Leila grinned. "But you have to promise not to cry so much, all right? Because a good spy shows no emotion; that's what I was taught."

Matthew only nodded.

"Aha! Now I've finally caught you, you whelps! Give that roasted lamb back!"

A cook with a tall white hat shook his fist at two figures sitting in a tall tree, enjoying a delicious piece of "borrowed" roasted lamb.

The girl stuck her tongue out at the furious cook, which only infuriated him even more. "You can have it back when we're done!" she called out cheekily.

The boy joined in. "Or you could sign this oathpaper in return for the meat!" he shouted, waving a yellowed piece of parchment in the air while stuffing his mouth full.

The cook was seething, but, unable to do anything, angrily marched off, having had enough. Before he was out of earshot, the boy called after him, "Oh, don't be like that! It's a good deal!"

Leila grinned. "You're getting pretty good, Matthew! You even got all the way up here by yourself without crying."

Shrugging and tearing off another piece of lamb with his teeth, Matthew replied, "Oh, I owe it all to Lord Hector. He may be young, but he waves that toy axe around like a maniac! I thought I'd be doing everyone a favor if I replaced that axe with a cat, but he didn't appreciate it. I had to climb up a tree to get away." After a moment of though, he added, "Don't think the cat did either."

"That's putting it lightly. The poor thing was shaking for a week after Lord Hector tried to swing it around by its tail in his sleep!"

"Exactly!" Matthew exclaimed sarcastically. "No one ever appreciates what I do around here."

"Speaking of appreciation," Leila said as she held up a bone, all that remained of the roasted lamb, "I think a certain cook would appreciate it if we brought this back. I'll race you!" She jumped off the tree limb and landed neatly on here feet in some bushes, racing off.

"Hey! Wait for me!" Matthew shouted, dropping his bone to the ground as he prepared to take a flying leap off the branch. But his foot was caught in one of the knotholes in the wood, and he stumbled from his perch, frantically grabbing for something to break his fall. Luckily, the young spy was able to hang onto a bough just below the one they had been sitting on. Unluckily, he couldn't get down. The "habit" that months of training with Leila had driven away quickly returned as Matthew found tears rising in his eyes.

L-Leila'll come. She- She said that I shouldn't cry. A good spy shows no emotion. A good spy doesn't cry. I want to be a good spy. Don't cry. Don't cry.

But nothing could stem the tears that were streaming down his face as Matthew began to wail out of fear.

"Ugh! Are you crying again?"

An exasperated voice which he recognized to be Leila's shook Matthew back to his senses.

"I-I'm not crying! I was just calling out for help!" he quickly denied. "I'm a good spy!" he added.

Leila sighed. "And I thought I'd rid you of it. Well, at least you don't cry anymore when you go someplace new all alone. That would have been bad for missions. Hmmm... We just have to work on your courage now. Can't have you start crying whenever you're faced with some problem."

"Umm... Leila?"

The girl looked up. "Yes?"

Matthew blinked away the tears in his eyes. "Could you get me down?"

Silence.

"Get down yourself. Haven't you been paying attention during training? You're not going to be getting help all the time, you know."

Silence.

"Just swing toward a bush! And don't cry!"

"I-I'm not!" Matthew stammered as he took quick glances at the ground, searching for a good place to land.

Leila laughed. "Just in case."

When he had finally found what he had been looking for, the exact bush which Leila had leapt into on her first try, Matthew began swinging gently on the bough, directing himself toward the bush. At the height of his swing, he let go. Luckily, he had calculated his timing correctly, and a few seconds later, the young spy emerged from the thick bush, covered with leaves, twigs sticking out of his hair.

Leila giggled at his appearance, and Matthew scowled at her, trying his best to dislodge all of the random foliage that had grown rather attached to him. When he was finished, or at least, when he thought he was finished, Matthew sat down roughly, leaning against the tree trunk, sighed, and covered his ears, attempting to drown out Leila's sniggering.

"You still have a stick sticking out of your head," she said as she tried to hold back her laughter. "Here. I got it."

She set herself down next to him. "I'm sorry. A little. But it was funny!"

Matthew, still angry, said nothing, and Leila heaved a sigh.

"Let's try something new, Matthew," she finally ventured. "Promise me you won't cry no matter what happens, even if you're all bloody and hurt."

Eyes wide, Matthew turned toward his friend and spluttered, "A-A blood oath?"

The girl grinned. "No. Just your word as a spy. Promise me, all right? It's for your own good."

Even though he was slightly incredulous, Matthew nodded. "All... All right. I'm not going to cry. Not now, not ever. That's a promise."

"And you'd better keep it this time! I'll never forgive you if you don't!"

"The marquess is dead."

The news had come suddenly, so suddenly that no one had been prepared for it. Even though Marquess Ostia was often sick and weak, his health had seemed to have improved in the few days prior to his death. But there was no time to waste. Uther, the elder son, was still too young to rule, so a trusted advisor was quickly proclaimed steward, and his first act as temporary leader of the most powerful principality of the Lycian League was to order a state funeral for the departed marquess. Matthew and Leila were among the many mourners. The funeral went on for hours, disrupted only when the young Lord Hector erupted into a fit of crying, mixed with rage, and had to be taken away by a squire named Oswin.

Halfway through a eulogy by a prominent Ostian merchant, Leila, peering through the thick film of tears that covered her eyes, turned to see Matthew, his eyes dry, his face devoid of emotion.

"Matthew," she whispered, despite the occasional sob which racked her frame. "Matthew," she whispered, trying to speak loud enough so that her words would not be drowned out by the moaning and weeping around her. "Why... are you not sad? Why do you show no emotion?" Her voice increased in intensity with every word, until it was loud enough that the people around her began giving her glares. "Do you not care that the marquess is gone? He's gone, Matthew! He's dead!"

Silence. A harsh whisper, accompanied with sobs. "Matthew. Why do you not mourn, Matthew?"

The young spy finally turned, a wry smile on his lips. Placing a heavy hand on his friend's shoulder, despite being a little shorter than her, he said, "The marquess was a good man, Leila. I will forever remember and mourn him. But a promise is a promise, even if the situation isn't the same. I'm not going to cry, Leila. Not now, not ever. A good spy shows no emotion."

Leila stared, stunned, unable to find any words to say.

Matthew...

The Dread Isle could not have been more aptly named. Its thick fog blanketed its dark and gloomy forests, effectively hiding all within. Despite himself, he smirked. The same fog that hid their enemies would now hide them as well.

I won't bury you here, Leila. I'll take you back to Castle Ostia with me. That was the only home you knew. I remember; you told me.

He wiped away the blood that was trickling down her face with the fringe of his cloak, smoothed out her rosy red hair with his bare hands.

Do you remember how Lord Hector cried like a baby when the marquess passed away? Well... I feel like doing that right now, Leila.

He gently lifted her from the ground, noting how light she felt. He had dreamt often of sweeping her off her feet and carrying her through the door of their new home. Their new home. Another wry smile.

I never did get to hear your answer, Leila.

The sounds of metal clashing against metal reached his ears, and he looked up. Another day. Another battle.

Perhaps... I should stay here. To mourn. To cry. They would not miss me; they do not need me. And they would understand.

He smiled, leaning close to her ear, and whispered, "But a promise is a promise, Leila. I'm not going to cry. Not now, not ever... I promise."

A/N: x-X I hope this isn't TOO much like some Colm/Neimi fic... Haha. Well, at least little Matthew doesn't cry at EVERYTHING, right? XD And at least he makes some attempt to stop crying... Haha. I'm just trying to justify what I wrote now. I'll stop. XD Hmm... I just realized that all my Matthew fics end on a similar note. (And that includes a large amount of chapters of Wish). Guess it just connects them! XD Wait... that's not a bad thing, is it? Anyway, I'd love it if you wonderful readers could give me some feedback on this! XD