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Chapter 37

The Children of Greil

It was a miserable day. Icy winds whipped up snow enough to turn it into frosty sleet that both soaked and froze the soldiers unfortunate to be under its frigid downpour. The wintry haze dampened the ground as well as spirits.

The semi frozen droplets fell heavily and landed on the flooded Earth that swallowed them up greedily. Mud that mixed messily with the snow turned the land into a murky flooded mess of brown and white.

But the bleak and grim weather was least of the troubles that had set into the cloths and hearts of the Begnion army and mercenaries. Sleet mixed in with the bodies and bloody remains of a Daein army so desperate that it flooded one of their small towns simply to impede the progress of Ike and his men.

A damp and ruined stuffed doll floated down a lonely path through the shallow waters, smeared and ripped from abuse. It collided with Yakuzo's flat shoes that were doing little to shield his feet from the cold flooded ground beneath him.

The feline bent stiffly and plucked the lost doll from the murky stream. Its button eyes, once yellow, were stained like the rest of the sewn girl's dress and apron. It sat heavily in his palm, sad without its owner whom Yakuzo hoped had not been swept away by the once raging river waters.

Beorc or Laguz, children were still children. The fact that Daein could use a town of its own people for leverage was a low that even he had not imagined they were capable of reaching. He raised his head sadly, imaging the little ones of his Gallia similarly under the harsh rule of the Daein army.

He shook off the frosty flakes that were collecting in his lashes and frosting his vision. With a sharp wince he retracted his hand from his face and looked sourly at gashes nestled between his knuckles. But the sting of the cold that snapped at his open scars was not what was fouling his mood the most. It was a multitude of things really. The weather, the war that was dragging on and getting worse with each fight, but mostly it was the fight that had just ended that was weighing like a boulder in his heart.

Yakuzo had killed a lot of Beorc during the war, and even had done things as unsavory as slaying his own kind; but those deaths hadn't stung the way the death of the general. The general was Daein, adorned with fiery red hair, and as good of a man that could possibly come from Daein.

Of course, he was Jill's father. Yakuzo and Jill weren't close; but Ikyna was fond of the wyvern rider; and what mattered to Ikyna mattered to Yakuzo.

He caught her thin figure from the corner of his golden eyes. Her hair and clothes were frosted from the drizzling snow fall and she stood slumped with the receding flood waters licking at her boots. She was pulling tightly on her braid with one hand and the other was wrapped protectively over her stomach; like she was trying to shield herself from the general's dead body.

Ike looked grimly as he brushed his hand over his sister's arm. She shrugged away from his touch like it burned her skin. Yakuzo was sure he saw Ike twist his face in protest but Ikyna left before there was any further discussion.

Ikyna's eyes were glossed as she walked away with her arms folded over her chest. Yakuzo opened his mouth to call her name but the words shriveled away when she walked past him. There was a tenseness and a tightness in her march that made the cat wary. He let her pass without a word and watched her stomp tersely away from him.

Yakuzo was not one to meddle or worry himself with Beorc affairs very often. Despite that, he knew very well exactly what type of affairs he had found himself in that day. With a long sigh he spoke through the sleet, "What a mess."

)(

Mist was huddled with a moose pelt blanket wrapped tightly around her body. It only warded off some of the cold and she shook as she stoked the fire burning in her tent with little luster. The flames danced before her and blew a wave of smoke and heat into her face.

She shied away from the black clouds and coughed as her eyes watered and stung. Titania was much better at taking care of a fire, Mist was still stuck between worrying about freezing death and burning herself alive.

With a throaty rasp she pulled the blanket over her face and let the flames burn without any further interference. She didn't mind, if she buried he face deep enough into the thick pelt she could keep her ears from being too badly nipped in the cold.

The young girl took a deep inhalation of the blanket and murmured at the familiar scent it carried. Oak, like Ikyna; steel, like Ike, the unmistakable mixture that reminded her of her father. A man who was both of the forest and of the sword.

The blanket had been her father's gift to her a long time ago. He'd cradle her in it, sit in front of fires with her wrapped tightly in his arms, or any number of things. Those days seemed so far away, but the strong scent brought back potent memories.

Mist whined unhappily into her blanket and closed her eyes to seal the tears she felt collecting. With one hand venturing into the cold she rubbed her head that was aching from the crook of her nose to her ears. She didn't want to cry; not when she had made a vow with herself to be a little stronger, a little tougher for her brother and sister. She felt she owed them that since they were always worrying about her during battles and of course because of her recent mistake.

Mist placed her hand back over her chest and made a movement she so often did it was more a reflex. But there was no touch of cool metal to greet her searching hands. Her medallion was gone. The last piece left from her mother was missing and it was her fault for not keeping track of it.

The guilt she felt on her own was enough of a burden, but that was not nearly as bad as the way Ike had looked at her when he found out her medallion was missing. Mist assumed that she was the only one who would be upset but when she told Ike that she'd lost the medallion, her brother had gotten angrier than she'd ever seen him. He'd actually shouted at her. The normally calm and collected Ike had lost his temper and yelled at her.

Mist couldn't remember a time when Ike had ever spoke to her that way. She shuddered deeply, but not from the cold. With another shrug deeper into the blanket she willed herself to focus on something other than how awful that day had been.

"Mist!" her name ringing loudly in the tent jarred her melancholy slump. The blanket fell as she gasped and shot a startled look to the tent entrance. Boyd was ducking in with his typical goofy wide grin. He was grinning at Mist as the tent flap caught on his metal shoulder guards. The flap pulled him back and he gagged dramatically before glaring accusingly at the tent.

Mist watched him curiously, her mood was too sour to laugh but she still had to hide her small smile beneath the blanket.

Boyd clicked his tongue and freed his shoulder pads, "Go ahead and laugh, you know you want to." He said with a frown.

"No I don't." she said with her head tilted and a smile the barely reached her eyes as she let her blanket drop.

The moment she did she regretted it as she shivered against the cold. Boyd scowled at her tiny body rattling in the frigid air. The he looked at her fire, a pitiful grumble of heat, and began pulling from the pile of extra wood. "What kind of fire is this?" he said with a scoff.

"The kind that I make." She defended with a pout and a flush.

"What do you make it for?"

"I was going to get it ready to make some dinner and warm up the tent."

Boyd shook his head in disbelief and shifted the timber to give the fire better surfaces to burn. "This fire could barely warm a cricket let alone cook dinner." The fire began to snap and crack as it greedily ate the fuel.

Mist crossed her arms and made a disgruntled sound as she flipped her hair petulantly, "I would have gotten it burning better, eventually."

"You were just staring at it. Were you going to stoke the fire with will power?" he mocked.

"I would have figured it out!" she fumed and pursed her lips, "What are you even doing here, other than staring at me like a weirdo."

The warrior gaped, "I wasn't staring!" he fumbled guiltily and the flame popped humorously making him jump.

Mist ignored his outburst, "Then what are you even here for?" she said while squinting suspiciously at the emerald-haired lad who'd done little more than disturb her alone time.

Boyd paused and rubbed his head with a flush that he was grateful was not perceptible in the firelight. He cleared his throat and looked nervously around the tent, his eyes landing on any spot that wasn't Mist.

"I was waiting for…" he paused as he scrambled for an excuse, "Titania, I'm looking for Titania!" he said in nervous excitement with wide and panicked eyes.

"Well she's not here." Mist made a broad gesture to her tent, "Even someone as dense as you can tell that."

Boyd darkened around his cheeks again. He knew Titania wasn't in the tent just like Mist was sure he was making a poor excuse to mask his real reason for coming uninvited into her tent. But whatever suspicions she had she kept to herself to Boyd's relief.

She just sighed and sat back in her blanket, not enough energy to fight with Boyd like she normally did. He saw the fall in her mood. His little outburst had given her a spark of energy but she was falling quickly back into the gloomy and dampened mood that she was in when he arrived.

Boyd hated seeing Mist that way. He wanted nothing more than to put a smile on her face and light up her big blue eyes. But if he couldn't do that, Boyd thought he'd settle for fighting with her.

He cleared his throat dramatically, "Well then make me some dinner while you're waiting." He said and began pulling off his boots and stretching out on the tent rug. He made a content murmur as his formally wet feet dried in the fire he had built up nicely.

Mist turned her nose up in disgust at his calloused feet; all the battles and marching was not kind to the body. "Why should I cook for you?" she grumbled and tossed a sack of herbs at Boyd who flinched but grinned at the fire awakening in Mist.

"You don't even like my cooking."

Boyd shrugged and smirked, "It's getting better." He then gestured towards the fire, "Anyway don't you think you owe me for making your fire all nice?"

An eyebrow arched over Mist's face incredulously but her disbelief was met with an almost wolfish Boyd grin. She inhaled deeply through her nose but couldn't suppress the tiniest grin.

"Fine." She shook her finger threateningly at Boyd, "But if you complain I'm throwing you out into the snow."

He laughed heartily, "Sure, sure." He leaned back on the rug and placed his arms behind his head as Mist set up a pot to make a stew in the tent. She already had vegetables chopped from the morning that she hadn't bothered to cook.

While she worked to bring the pot of water to a boil Boyd was still grinning foolishly. "Hey do you have any meat to put in there?"

The water gurgled and steamed as Mist looked at the built young man who had invaded her tent. "You know there isn't much meat since the winter is so cold."

"So that's a no?"

She rolled her eyes conspicuously, "No just some cabbage and carrots. Didn't I say not to complain?"

He shrugged on the ground, "Fine, I get it." There was little protest on his part and he settled back into a comfy rest in her tent.

"You know," Mist began, "Titania won't be back for a while, and she's in a meeting with Ike."

Boyd was drifting off to sleep but made a lazy murmuring sound.

"I wonder what the meeting is about." She stated distractedly to herself as she stirred the pot. Maybe they were talking about the war, or the black knight, or finding the medallion that Mist had lost. Her chest tightened at the thought; her mood that had started to get better was being weighed down again with her anxiety.

Boyd sat up on his elbows and watched the girl he had noticed go strangely quiet. She was biting her lip and the corners of her eyes dropped in distress. He reached for her and flicked her head gently, "Hey squirt, stop over thinking things."

Mist yelped and rubbed her head with a pout, "What was that for?" she complained.

"You're making that ridiculous face you make when you're thinking too much about stuff that you shouldn't be thinking about."

She was still scowling as she replied, "What face?"

Boyd used a finger to push down lines on Mist's forehead, "This thinky face that you make and then you get all down because you're thinking about stuff you don't need to think about."

"Thinky stuff?" she asked with an arched brow.

Boyd blushed at the slightly mocking tone and coughed to hide his embarrassment, "Yeah…thinky."."

"That was very poetically put Boyd."

He folded his arms, "You know what I mean." He defended lamely, upset that he was not as fluent with his words as his brother Oscar. Oscar always knew how to say the right thing at the right time. Boyd was the kind of person who wanted desperately to make Mist cheer up but was caught up in his own butchered words.

"No, I don't think I do know what you mean." Mist teased with a smirk.

Boyd groaned, "Whatever just go back to your cooking. You were happier when you had a distraction."

"Distraction?"

The warrior clapped his hands over his mouth and scowled at how his mouth had betrayed him so quickly once again. Yes coming in and bothering Mist was supposed to be a distraction for her so she could cheer up or at least be less gloomy. But she wasn't supposed to know that. The last thing Boyd wanted was for Mist to know he was worried about her.

"No, not a distraction, just you know, it's something that you can do. And it keeps you warm…" his face grew warmer and his words fumbled and Mist's grin grew wider. Boyd could see her triumphant grin growing and he blew out an exasperated sigh, "It's because I was hungry! Gosh, why are you questioning me? You're going to overcook the food." he finally blurted and lay back down roughly.

He turned over on his side away from Mist but she could still see edge of a pout on his lips. Mist however could not contain the grin that was spreading across her face. Gruff Boyd who was all about muscles and fighting, and made it a point to annoyingly call her squirt all the time, was trying to distract her. He had a rough exterior at times but the brash young man pouting in her tent was trying to cheer her up and that was what brightened her mood the most.

Outside of Mist's tent the white prince was passing by and grinning softly as he heard the suddenly lively banter coming from behind its cloth walls. The youngest of the Greil siblings always appeared to be the quietest but when she was with Boyd her tongue and wit were as sharp as a sword.

Reyson's boots scuffed against the snow as he walked with purpose in search of Ikyna. He'd love to deny it, that he was on journey, practically a mission, to find her. There wouldn't be much point to the denial though; Reyson had been looking for her since he saw her face drained of color when she left the battlefield earlier that day.

It could have been because he wanted to uncover more about the girl in his dreams, but what mattered the most is that he needed to see her; and it had taken him some effort to get as far as he was. Tibarn was right to send Ulki and Janaff to watch him. It was no easy task to get away from those eyes and ears.

With all of the charisma Reyson could muster he had finally managed to convince the birds to let him take a short stroll, alone. They weren't happy about the suggestion. Neither bird liked the idea of the prince roaming around unattended; especially not within Beorc ranks. Ike and his mercenaries were trustworthy but the rest of Begnion were still edgy around the Laguz members.

The prince had insisted and promised to be within ear shot of Ulki at all times. That wasn't hard to do, that hawk could hear for miles. He didn't have to travel miles though. Ikyna was just at the edge of the camp, far enough to be beyond the ring of tents and supplies, but not so much that Ulki and Janaff would be alarmed.

Reyson slowed his walk to an easy amble, trying to gain some sort of composure over himself. When he greeted her he didn't want to sound too eager or flustered, even if that was exactly how he was feeling. His unease grew in his pit the closer he got to her and the farther away from the grunts and noises of the busy camp.

Soon he was just a few feet from her, standing in the cold winter silence, watching her. She hadn't noticed his arrival and the prince was glad. He couldn't imagine her turning around and seeing him gaping with wide eyes and a mouth that had dried the moment he saw her.

Ikyna was leaned against a tree staring out over a vast expanse of flat ground dotted with clumps of snow and ice. The tall birch with four thick branches stemming from its base leaned and bent into the groove of her back like a lonely and bare guardian. Both figures were cloaked in the eerie pale glow of the moon that wrapped around them like dainty silver arms.

The prince noticed that the archer's hair was loose from its usual braid. It was a wave of ocean blue darkened only slightly under the sunless sky. Wild and unruly, with curls and waves rolling over her chest happily at their own freedom, it was beautiful and untamed; just like Ikyna.

The sudden and yet simple thought startled Reyson. Beautiful? Yes Beautiful. That was the word that came to mind as he watched the girl with her uncontrolled locks basking in moonshine. His heart clinched at the alluring sight before him before letting out a jagged breath.

He didn't know what was happening to him. All he wanted was to have a little chat with the girl. Get to know her better. Hear her laugh, see that wide heedless smile she offered so willingly to Yakuzo when she did little more than shyly bite her lip at him, and by the goddess, there were so many other things he wanted from her, he hardly knew what most of them were. But he couldn't deny any of those desires. They were as plain and obvious as the fact that he was standing behind her clutching his chest in hopes that it wouldn't rattle out of his body.

"White prince?" Ikyna called softly as she watched him curiously from her birch.

The prince's eyelids fluttered in surprise. It seemed like she'd noticed him standing behind her suspiciously. No doubt she was wondering what he could possibly doing lurking near her without saying a word. He could only imagine how strange he looked; he hadn't managed to even close his mouth properly.

Reyson made an attempt to speak but his throat was still dry. He swallowed hard and licked his chapped lips hastily and managed to call her name. His voice shocked him, it had never sounded as husky as it did them. He cleared his throat, flustered and awkward, as he shuffled toward Ikyna.

"You found me." She said with a thin smile.

Some of Reyson's composure came back as he sat beside Ikyna. He found enough of his calm to speak again without having to doubt the fluidity of his voice, "Were you hiding from me?" he asked with a playful smirk. "I won't put anymore vera juice on you, I promise.

Ikyna chuckled but there was little myrrh in her voice, "Not really." But all too quickly her smile was gone, replaced by the brittle shivering breath she let out.

His chest stung, he wanted her smile back, that laugh, even that smug glint she got when she'd said something sardonic. But those things had fled her that night. They'd ran away with the life of the Daein general that died that afternoon.

The bird pulled his lip into his mouth, groping for what to say. Something poetic or inspiring, but nothing profound came to him. He settled for the usual, "Are you okay?"

Ikyna turned sharply at him, pupils dilated in fear, possibly guilt, and then she grew a dark red. Her hands flew to her hair and began twirling the ends in a cyclone hastily, without real purpose other than to busy her nervous fingers. "Yes. Why do you ask?"

"You don't seem fine."

She paused after his comment, lost in thought. Reyson could tell she was stuck between telling him the truth and pushing him away. He assumed she'd choose the latter.

"What does that mean?" She began in the best incredulous tone she could muster, "Are you using your heron powers to read my heart again?"

The question was asked sharply, defensively even. It was clear that she didn't want prying from the prince. Reyson was glad he hadn't so he could answer her truthfully, "I didn't use my 'heron powers' Ikyna." He said softly and slowly, making sure to keep his voice level.

"Then how do you know…"

"I don't need to read your heart to know you're upset." He finished her thought for her.

Ikyna seemed surprised to hear those words. Reyson could understand, the moment he ever told any human that he could read their heart they automatically assumed that was what he did all the time. As if he was some kind of pest who had nothing better to do with his time other than peer into people's emotions. Even if Reyson was that type of man he couldn't do that presently. All the chaos from the recent battles was clouding his mind to the point that he could only gather vague and cloudy images from people's hearts.

But Ikyna didn't know that; she didn't know that Reyson could read her emotions like a book. He'd been watching her, even when he tried to resist, when he told himself he couldn't get involved with a Beorc, his thoughts and gaze found her.

"I see. I'm that obvious?" she responded gloomily.

The prince nodded, "You're the cheeriest one in the camp most of the time. Did you think I wouldn't notice if you suddenly disappeared to sit alone in the cold forest?"

Ikyna had to admit her actions were anything but inconspicuous. But that was her; she never knew how to do anything subtly. When Ikyna was happy she was over the moon cheerful and excited, but when she was hurting, she was a mad dog, volatile and ready to snap at anyone. An unwanted memory flooded her mind, sending her back to the nights after her father died when she had brought Mist to tears.

That was a feeling she didn't want to relive. And with everything that was going on, the war, the medallion, Ike's story of the horrible truth about her parents, Ikyna didn't trust her mood to be kind to her friends. That's why she was alone, sitting on the cold ground shifting on rocks that were stabbing through her pants. She wanted to think and just pretend like she hadn't had such an awful day.

The archer assumed the prince didn't know her well enough to be aware of her rotten mood. He was throwing himself to a lion and he didn't know it. But Ikyna liked the prince and she didn't want him to deal with her grumpiness.

After a pause she cast a slow glance toward the prince. He was watching her intently, she didn't know for how long, and his jewel like eyes flickered slightly. Lines folded on his forehead, a sign of his worry and concern for her. Ikyna cursed silently, she hated having people worry about her.

With a long sigh she ran both hands through her hair and trapped it around her neck with a meek and sheepish grin, "You might be right." She admitted, "I'm a little grumpy so I thought I'd come out here." There was truth to her story but Reyson knew she was holding back.

"So what's the problem?"

Ikyna shifted uncomfortably in the dirt, for once not enjoying the attention from the ivory bird. Reyson suspected that she would do whatever she could to avoid questioning; that she'd rather hide and bear her problems alone.

"It's nothing too big white prince. I'm just a little tired from the fight." She offered as a poor excuse. Reyson didn't buy her explanation and said nothing. His silence further flustered Ikyna. "Anyway it's really cold out for you. Why don't you go to bed, I'll be okay."

The prince was not impressed again by her statement which was coming out almost as a plea. He was right to assume that she would try to push him away so she could be alone. She was the type of stubborn person who couldn't bear to accept help from others. Reyson was the same so he recognized the signs. With a disinterested yawn and stretch he refused her offer, "No thanks. I'd rather be with you."

His words alarmed Ikyna and made her cheeks flush. She turned from him and put her hands to her face to cool the warmth that was spreading to her ears. How could he say something like that so casually?

Ikyna cleared her throat to test it, it shivered nervously but it would have to do. "No really Reyson. I'm fine; I just think I need to be alone." Ikyna could hardly believe she was trying to get rid of the prince when in the past few weeks she wanted nothing more than to be with him. Yet that was how she felt that night and she hoped he'd understand.

"I know you're fine." Reyson began, but there was a note of irony in his voice, "but because you want to be alone, I'm staying."

The female looked sharply at Reyson and could detect a small grin over his lips. A tiny unspoken declaration of his victory over her. Ikyna wouldn't leave but neither would the prince. Without saying a word he was telling her that she would have his company whether she wanted it or not. Meaning, he knew she was lying, pretending, and masking a turmoil of painful emotions.

"But prince Reyson." She started as a weak protest.

Reyson interrupted her gently, "You don't have to tell me how you're actually feeling, or explain why you're upset. You don't have to say anything at all." He offered her a short comforting grin filled with sincerity, "I hear you when you say you want to be by yourself; but I don't think you're the kind of person who should be left alone when they're upset."

There was kindness in the way he spoke; like his words were reaching out and gently stroking her cheek to reassure her. Ikyna always hid when she was upset; afraid of her temper and of other people's judgment. But she didn't worry about that with Reyson. His almost caressing voice and words told her that he respected her wishes but he was going to do what he felt was better. Maybe he was right, Ike was always complaining and saying that she should confide in someone about how she felt.

But knowing didn't make it any easier. The last time Ikyna talked about her feelings was under great protest and after a lot of shouting. And it wasn't as much talking as it was loud and obnoxious sobbing.

Fortunately Reyson spared her the worry of starting a confession. "You know I was like you." He began and peaked Ikyna's interest immediately.

"How." She squeaked shyly after the prince's pause. It was like he was doing it for affect, waiting for her to bite. Probably, this was some sort of plan to make her spill her feelings, but she was willing to nibble. Reyson knew she would and the corners of his eyes wrinkled mischievously.

"I don't like to share how I feel with people either. I keep everything bottled up, because it's what I'm good at; I know how to do it well." His voice lowered and he drew in a deep breath as he continued, "especially after certain events in my life."

The prince didn't need to be specific, Ikyna knew he was talking about the massacre. There was a way that his body stiffened when he thought about it. Like the memory was binding him. For a moment, as Ikyna watched his brow crease and his throat bob as he swallowed thickly, she wished he'd look at her, but he didn't. He just kept drawing her in with the ring of his controlled voice.

"And for such a long time, I was just so angry because that was what I thought I needed to be. Like I didn't think I deserved to be anything other than upset." The topic was obviously difficult for the prince. He was admitting to having difficulty expressing himself but here he was letting her into a glimpse of his struggles. Finally he looked at her, all peridot eyes and glossy hair, "But it got to a point…just recently actually, when I realized I could be upset, I had that right, but I needed to let myself be happy too."

The prince paused again, gauging Ikyna's reaction as she swallowed the words and let them sink into her head. She pulled her lip into her mouth as she hesitated, "But, I am happy." She said in an unconvincing whisper.

Reyson frowned at her statement, "Sometimes you need to let yourself be sad too."

Ikyna nodded slowly, knowing exactly what the prince meant. He was telling her, showing her, that she could let him in. Even if only for a moment. His eyes that peered into hers told her that, and that he knew it was hard.

Ikyna's lip quivered and she turned back to facing the snowy empty field. Her chest was full like a bursting water sack, and it was all she could do to just contain the swell of thick emotions. They barreled up her throat and lodged themselves tightly in her face. Ikyna let out a rattling long breath through her noise that turned into a shuddering sigh and a painful short chuckle.

Her hands clutched her shirt tightly as she looked from her lap to Reyson then to her lap again. Reyson waited patiently, in no hurry to force her to speak. He'd wait all night with her until she was ready; even if she didn't speak at all.

"I just…I just…" she began the sentence cautiously, her voice heavy with strain. Then she paused folded her lips in and smacked then softly as she shook her head to gain a fraction of control. "I just really miss my dad sometimes, you know?" She finally admitted.

Reyson nodded his head in understanding but didn't speak. He wasn't sure if responding would make her stop talking.

"Especially on days like this, with all the stuff, and Jill, and…" her voice squeaked and she stifled a groan, "It's just hard sometimes." She managed to finish.

With that she looked to Reyson, a pitiful plea written on her face, begging him to stop her before she said anymore. Before the words she said next were lost to her emotions that she was only holding together by a thin string.

Reyson obliged her silent request with a reassuring smile, "You're allowed to miss your dad Ikyna."

Ikyna nodded, held back a whimper, by the goddess she didn't know why talking was so hard all of the sudden. She knew what Reyson said was true; of course she could miss her dad. He was the only one she ever had and she loved him so much. But she still didn't want the hurt. Ikyna wished it would go away so she didn't have hard days like those.

As if reading her mind Reyson spoke, "There's no time limit on how long you're allowed to mourn the people you lose. You'll have good days and bad days Ikyna. If you keep holding it in, you'll wear yourself out."

Once again the bird's words were sound and true. Ikyna never felt as tired as she did when she was trying to keep her world from falling apart on those days when her father was on her mind. It was like holding in floodwaters with only a few logs to dam up the surge.

Reyson saw her shoulders sag. Her lips parted and a weary and sad sigh whispered between the two of them. She was giving in, at least as much as Reyson suspected Ikyna could. With her head leaned back against the birch in resignation she smile tiredly, "Fine, I give in. I'm going to be sad tonight. Happy now?"

The prince smirked, glad that there was some sharpness to Ikyna's speech, "Elated." He mused.

"But only for tonight!" was her response riddled with intense almost overflowing feelings.

"I'd expect no less. Two days would be dramatic."

"Exactly." She said emphatically while the bird nodded in playful acquiesce.

"And, and I'm not going to cry!" Ikyna added with the firmness of a stubborn child.

Reyson tilted his head and flashed an amused hearth wrenching slow smile as his hair fell off his shoulders and dangled like golden vines, "I'm staying regardless. If you don't want to cry, that's fine Ikyna."

The young archer flushed at the prince's handsome face and knowing grin. She knew what that smile was for, it was because he didn't believe her words were any more than her stubbornness talking. He could tell the moment he saw her red face and the glistening of moisture under her eyes that she could not wipe away quickly enough, that she was very close to tears.

With a hasty swipe across her eyes she turned from the prince, feeling mortified and embarrassed. With all the will power she tried to hold in the tears, but it was a battle she didn't think she could win. It had been a long day, week, and the journey was just getting longer. There was so much to deal with, see and overcome that the world felt like it would crumble around her at any moment.

Ikyna placed a hand on her chest and tried to swallow the cries crouching in her throat. She could let herself be sad, but how could she cry in front of Reyson?

Suddenly, amongst her struggles, an arm wrapped behind her neck and then a hand reached around her forehead. There was a soft pull against Ikyna's body and before she had time to respond the prince had pulled her against his shoulder. His thin fingers rubbed the wrinkles that had formed across her head in soothing circles.

The smell of mint, like that of the vera plant, flooded Ikyna's nose. It both made her panic and calmed her. He was close, close enough for his inviting scent to wrap her up like a blanket. It was almost too much to bear and a frantic breath rushed from her lips, "Reyson?" she questioned, completely embarrassed.

"But," he interrupted as he laid his head on top of hers, finally getting to enjoy the light sensation of her cerulean mane against his skin, "If you do want to cry, that's okay too."

Ikyna's eyes widened. He really had seen through her; completely, utterly. She was defenseless against him and his soft words, gentle hands, and the warmth that resonated from him. If Ikyna had had the energy to protest she probably still wouldn't have. Reyson had hooked her the moment he sat down and now she'd been reeled in, too far from the water to ever return.

Reyson waited for her response. He thought she might struggle, turn her amusing shades of pink and red, or any number of things to get away from him. But she didn't. To his surprise she turned her head into his shoulder and covered her face as her bandaged hand lifted to fist his long white tunic.

"Only tonight." She whispered before going still.

Reyson paused in confusion, not sure what Ikyna was referring to at first. He started to turn his head to look at her but stopped with he felt her shivering in the crook of his neck and a sudden dampness on his shoulder.

The prince sighed, Ikyna was stubborn to the end; crying on him but refusing to let him see by hiding her face and muffling her sobs. But Reyson decided to let her be. He brought his free arm to wrap around her and bring her closer to him; letting her share his warmth and his kindness as her tears fell, unbidden, down his sleeves.

"Commander?" Ike lifted his head slowly, his eyes almost crossed from staring at a parchment with supplies information written on it. Soren had insisted that Ike become acquainted with ordering and selling equipment for everyone in the mercenary crew and making sure that they didn't run out of anything when they needed it.

Ike could imagine Soren being upset that someone was interrupting his important work but Ike had mostly just been partially paying attention to what he was reading. He was too tired and it was too late to focus on such tiny script. For that matter, the interruption was a very welcome one with white hair and crimson eyes.

Aeyori stood shyly at the entrance, vacillating between coming and going. Ike made a short chuckle and waved her in, "Commander?" he questioned the formality of Aeyori's speech as he moved his chair around from the desk he was studying at previously, "Were not in the middle of a battle, you don't need to call me that." It was a complaint he often made.

"Then, Lord Ike?" she responded with a coy lift of her lips.

Ike's eyes slanted in mock annoyance, knowing that Aeyori was intentionally teasing him. She grinned back wider knowing that he was also aware. With a slow tap to her chin, purposeful stalling, she finally said, "Ike."

The commander's lips twitched as he shook his head in amusement. "Aeyori." He called back to her.

Aeyori's eyes closed when her name met her ears. She liked how it sounded when he said it. It was laced with tenderness and unspoken affection. With two quick strides she was standing over his desk, her hands behind her back while she swayed.

She spotted the parchment and its long list scribbled and cramped together. "Reading?"

Ike nodded with a tired groan, "Yes. More work for the commander." The tone in his voice almost perplexed sounding. He hadn't thought that he'd be doing paperwork as a commander when his father died. That wasn't his specialty. It'd be easier for Titania or Soren to do; they would be better at it anyway. But Soren was never easy on Ike. The mage insisted that Ike understand all the workings of the crew in case the worst should happen to Titania or Soren.

Soren was right of course; and Greil had done the same, but sometimes Ike was too tired to spend his nights scanning microscopic smeared print under dim candlelight. He pinched the brim of his nose and let out a groan that was also a yawn.

"Are you okay Ike?"

The commander peeked above his fingers to see Aeyori's worried face. It had gone from playful to upset in such a short time. Ike dropped his hands and placed them on his thighs. "Of course. I'm fine." He was, more or less.

Aeyori's glance wandered passed her commander to the far end of his desk, "You didn't eat your dinner." She said softly.

Ike turned and looked at his relatively undisturbed plate. One spoonful of lentils was gone and exactly two bites of a biscuit that was cold by then. He brought his hand to the hard bread and eyed it apathetically. Its flaky sides ran down his thumb and finger tips before he placed it back on the plate.

"I guess I got distracted with work."

"You have to eat." Aeyori insisted.

The young man looked again at the food. It had been the same meal for a few weeks by then. Even if he hadn't been so tired or overwhelmed with his responsibilities, lentils and bread would not be appetizing.

"Ikyna says you don't eat when you're upset about something."

"Did she now?" Ike said with an impassive expression. Of all the people to be giving their opinions on how people act when they are upset, Ikyna was not one.

"So what's been bothering you?"

"Nothing to worry about." He dodged.

The response upset Aeyori. How could it be nothing to worry about when the man she cared about was too upset or stressed to even eat? She hadn't been excited about the meals either, but that didn't mean she skipped a meal. Especially when they could be thrown into a fight at any moment.

Ike noticed the change in the small mage. Her hands crossed over her chest and she looked at him with a glare that would have done Ikyna proud. "What's wrong?"

"How can it not be something to worry about? If it's your concern, then it's mine Ike." Ike's flat expression fell and he frowned. He wasn't better at expressing his feelings than Ikyna was, even though he always complained to his sister about it. Those things didn't come easy, sword fighting, war, those were all things that Ike could manage, but sharing his worries, with anyone, but especially with Aeyori, was a hard task to accomplish.

He didn't want to hurt Aeyori though. There was an unmistakable edge of hurt in her voice and expression; one that told him she was pained that he couldn't be open with her. But there was a lot that he just couldn't share, especially anything concerning the medallion. Only Ikyna and Volke knew about that.

Even still, Ike felt a twinge of guilt as he looked into Aeyori's hurt looking scarlet eyes. "Come here." He ordered gently. Aeyori eyed him warily, there was still a ghost of displeasure across her face, and Ike hadn't give her what she wanted. Despite that she shuffled slowly to stand in front of him as he reached for her arm and pulled her until she was standing between his legs.

He looked up at her, her lips were poked out in a brood, "I'm sorry, I know you want to help." Aeyori scowled because she knew that that sentence meant he had no intention of telling her what was bothering him. She wanted to be of use but here she was looking down at Ike's stoic face that was telling her that there wasn't anything she could do.

"There's just some things that I need to work through on my own." He finally added firmly.

Aeyori's head dropped and she looked down at her hand that was joined with his. Their scars and callouses only reminded her further of the battles Ike had fought and would fight without her. She untangled her fingers from his and cupped them in both her hands before bringing them to her lips.

"I'm sorry." Ike said in a husky whisper as he watched her lips glaze over his knuckles. She made an inquiring sound as she moved his hand to her cheek in a fluid motion. "I know I've upset you, and it's already been rough on you recently."

Aeyori froze and raised a questioning eyebrow, "Recently?"

Ike was disappointed that she had stopped playing with his hand but he continued, "Ever since we've entered Daein, your moods been dampening." He raised his hand to place it over hers as she watched him, a look of fear starting to register over her face.

It was then that Ike knew his suspicions were correct. He hadn't imagined the turn in the mage's mood. She was confirming his assumption with the look she gave him; dark and anxious, like she wanted to flee. He gripped her hand tighter, trying to console her. "What's waiting for you in Daein?"

Aeyori hesitated, "Well you found me running from men in Daein. I can assure you it's nothing good."

Ike regarded her cautiously, deciding on which way to steer the conversation. To probe, or let it go. He wanted to probe; the stronger their relationship became the more risks he felt he could take. "Who were you running from?" he asked.

There was a pause as Aeyori debated on how much information to give. The truth would come out soon enough whether she wanted it to or not and whether she was ready for it or not. Thorne was in Daein, and he'd be waiting for her, just like he promised. The thought sent a shiver through her body and she closed her eyes to calm the fear crawling down her spine.

Ike saw the change and called her name. Aeyori's response started with a haunted looking smile, "You're not the only one who has secrets they aren't ready to tell." She said as sardonically as she could but there was still a hurt edge in her voice.

The commander put a hand around her waist, trying to avoid savoring the feel of her lithe body under his wanting fingertips, and pulled her as close as she could be; nestled protectively between his thighs. She yelped but wasn't unhappy about his closeness. "Didn't you promise you'd tell me, soon?"

Aeyori sighed down at her handsome commander, his dark hair and the familiar scowl she had come to love, although he looked more worried than anything. He was willing her with his eyes to tell him something. "You will know." She said sadly, then she moved her hands from his and rolled them through his thick hair. He raised his head to meet her caress and sighed happily into her much appreciated touch.

"But you might not like what you find out." She said more to yourself.

"I don't care what you're running from." He began as he snaked both his arms around her waist and looked up at her, his lips flat and straight. Aeyori stopped her ministrations, frozen by the intensity of his stare, "Whatever it is, and I'm going to protect you from it."

Those words, no matter how believable, warmed Aeyori like summer did to expectant flowers. "Okay." She said to placate her determined commander as she traced the curve of his cheeks and chin. "If only I could offer you the same support." She murmured distractedly as her finger met his lips to trace them. He nipped it softly with his teeth as he stared at her, "You do."

"But Ike…"

Ike shook his head to stop her further protests. He tightened his arms around her waist and pulled her until his head was buried under her breast. "More than you know." He admitted quietly. Ike couldn't share his problems with Aeyori, he didn't even want to. He wanted to take control of as much of the mess his crew was in, and he needed to protect the mage he cared about so much, and that's why he needed her.

He thought of the night after his father died and Aeyori had come to him. She'd wrapped him in an embrace warmer than the fire whispering in the center of the tent. That time Ike had pushed her away, he was too unsure of himself to accept the gesture. But not anymore, Ike knew that he wanted nothing more than to be right there tucked under her beating heart.

"Ike?"

"Just a little bit longer." He mumbled as he took a deep inhalation of the herbal smell from her cloths. She'd probably been in Rhys's medicine pile recently. His eyes were closed as he allowed himself to relax for a moment, push his worries aside and focus on Aeyori's hands that had started churning through his hair again. Ike barely masked a soft moan as Aeyori's fingers made contact with his scalp.

Aeyori smiled warmly savoring the time she had alone with him. No war or Soren to interrupt. Maybe he couldn't tell her everything but she could be happy with holding him the way she was. Slowly she dipped her face and planted a kiss against the top of his head. She couldn't see but heard Ike smile before he repaid he gesture by planting his lips briefly against her stomach, "Thank you. Just let me be a little selfish tonight."

"Always."

Thanks for reading. I am now working on my second fanfiction and it should be out pretty soon.

PG-