AN: Hello mates! Been a bit. Like always, life's been er, busy. Yeah, let's go with that. Anyways, last chapter was more exposition, kinda just some filler I put together to try and practice writing each character. I'm still trying to nail down the personalities, but don't worry, I'll get it eventually. Sooner rather than later. That said, your words have been heard, reviewers. I'm honored you all like the story. I'm considering putting a poll up for you guys to vote on for wether or not there's shipping between the protag and another character, and with whom. I've no experience writing that kinda stuff, but if you guys want, I'd be more than willing to give it a shot. There will also be an option for no shipping, for those of you who aren't interested in any of that stuff.
One more thing, many thanks to Louie Yang for the idea of what Thom's stats! Truth be told, I was just winging it but it seems a far better idea to have some sort of structure to help keep Thom's power in check. Big shoutout to Louie. You the real MVP!
Without further delay, let's get this shit.
I awoke on the second day with my eyes crusted shut, my guts sore, and my head pounding. I rise in my bed, and find my clothes strewn across the wooden floor. My tank and poncho stained with dry blood, and my pants folded next to my boots beside the bed. I look to my side, seeing my gunbelt on the nightstand, along with my knife.
"Oughh," I groan, sitting up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, and face. "Who dare wake this lord of cinder?" My entire back creaks, and the skin on my abdomen feels tight, pulling at itself. "Yyyeah, checks out." If I could've had any doubt about yesterday being a coma dream, I guess I can forget it. "Dear God I feel like I'm 40." Now I know how the Ashen One felt...
I hear a knock on my door, and from outside I hear "Thom, are you awake? We need to get ready to set out soon!" I hear someone shout. Sounds like Robin to me.
"Yeah, I'm up, just lemme get dressed and I'll be out in a minute!" I reply. I heave myself out of bed, and start pulling my pants on.
"Ok! Just be quick, I don't think Frederick will wait for you!" She jests. I blurt something unintelligible back, slipping my boots on. Then my bloody tank, and poncho. (Ew.) I've got to see someone about getting these cleaned. Then...
"Wait. Where's my hat?" I look frantically around the room, under the bed, beneath the wardrobe, on the table. Fuck fuck fuck. That was a fucking Kenny K. Signature! Damnit! My dad gave me that!
I sigh, clenching my fists in frustration. I need to let that shit go. Getting pissed off ain't gonna help me now. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, and strap the gunbelt on the nightstand back around my waist. Last but not least I slip the stiletto back into my boot, and roll my shoulders. Time to get a fuckin move on.
I walk down the stairs, hobbling a bit on account of the hangover, and the soreness from y'know, getting shot yesterday. Chewing on my lip, I can't help but wonder if vulneraries help with hangovers. I finally reach the bottom of the stairs, and nod to the old man from yesterday. I reach for the door, but a hand on my shoulder stops me. What is it with these people and touching my shoulders?
Looking behind me, I see the old man's son. The guard I saved yesterday. "Y'leaving ser? With the Shepherds?" I shake my head at that.
"Look, m' not no 'sir', right? Call me Thom." I nod, "And anyway, yeah. I'm heading out. Keep an eye on your pops, kay?" He stops for a second, staring me in the eyes, and pats me on the shoulder.
"Good luck on the road. Thank ye for saving me and my pa, Thom." He smiles up at me, then looks back behind the bar at his pops. "It hasn't been easy for us since mother passed. I don't know what I'd do without 'em."
I shrug his hand off my shoulder, coughing into my hand. "Eh, no problem kid. Keep up the good work. And hey, keep training with that lance, I won't be around to save your ass next time." He looks indignant, but I cut him off before he can talk back. "I'm giving ya shit, relax. But I'm serious, keep practicing. You'll get it. Now I gotta get going, but tell your pops that I told him so."
He looks a bit confused. Good. I turn from him and open the door, and I'm quickly reminded why I was thinking about vulneraries. It takes a few seconds for my eyes to adapt to the sun eyefucking me, but as soon as I can see through the glare I'm greeted by Chrom, standing by Frederick, Lissa and Robin. He waves to me.
"There you are. Ready to head out?" He questions. I pinch my eyes and shake my head, only serving to increase my pain. Ow.
"Depends. Is there any kind of magical hangover cure you got? I feel like someone's rung my bell. Hard." Robin reaches into her coat, pulling what I think is a vulnerary. I'm still not sure since the sun is still giving me a big bright moneyshot in the eyes. I hold my hands out, and she places the bottle in my hands. I uncork it as quick and carefully as I can, slugging the bottle in one go. My headache rapidly fades, my sight clearing up with the sun seemingly becoming dimmer.
As soon as the fog in my head fades I find a small, yet relieved smile on my face. Frederick doesn't look impressed, but the rest of my companions looks relieved. Especially Lissa, with her...
Cowboy hat.
I snatch the hat out of her hands, pulling it onto my head, protecting my eyes from the sun. She shouts an indignant and shrill "Hey!" I tilt the hat up with a finger, and she can tell I'm not amused. She pipes down.
"I'm not sure why you got my hat and I don't wanna know. Just don't touch the fuckin' thing." I noticed Frederick's hand is near the pommel of his sword. Right, I might've gotten a bit touchy. But this hat is personal. I sigh, and deflate a bit. "Look, I shouldn't be so upset, that's my bad. Just this hat's important. To me, I mean." Lissa looks a bit guilty, if not a bit angry that I was a bit of a prick. But that's my own fault.
"It's okay, I should have dropped your hat off in your room when I noticed it was missing. I was planning on giving it back, you know." She pouts. It adorable. Now I feel even worse.
"Right, look I say we split the guilt and call it even. At this rate we'' never leave town." We share a look that tells me we're on the same page. Then I look to Chrom. "'Kay, so where we headed?" He pulls a map from a saddlebag on Fred's horse, and unfurls it.
"Ylisttol." He states. Right. Not sure what I was expecting, but at least the plot hasn't diverged yet, right? "It's a bit of a march. About two days, if we set out now." Oh, only two days? That's EZ PZ.
…
It was not, in fact, EZ PZ.
I'd made it long enough for Lissa to start whining about an hour ago. Thankfully I'd managed to tune her out. (Having hopelessly whiney coworkers certainly helps with that.) So at least I can outwalk the princess. Robin, Freddy and Chrom were a different story.
"Aaaaagh, my calves are fuggin' my whole world up!" I groan. Robin gives an amused snort at that, and Lissa laughs at me from the back of Frederick's horse. Little shit complained her way onto easy street. Frederick just gives me an unimpressed look. His gaze scathing me, almost appraising.
"We are going to have to work on your physical fitness, without a doubt. To be in such shape is unacceptable, and unbecoming as a Sheperd." I roll my eyes, but I know he isn't wrong.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, fuckin' right. You aren't wrong, I know I'm rail-thin. I was gonna ask if you could help me bulk up a bit. Also was gonna ask if anyone could teach me how to use this?" I lift my foot up and yank my dagger out of my boot. After looking at it all morning I had realized it was a Poignard. More of a spike than a dagger, really.
He shakes his head, "No, I'm afraid we don't have anyone who could teach you." Robin pipes up, curious as ever.
"Why do you have one if you don't know how to use it, anyway?" She's being smug, isn't she? I can hear it in her voice just as much as her actual curiosity.
"Haw haw, very funny smartass." I shoot back. She just sticks her tongue out. Smarmy asshole. A woman after my own heart, truly. She just snorts at that. "And I'm not really sure. I wasn't dressed like this before I arrived. I woke up like this. And I sure as shit didn't own a Poignard. Wish I had one of my Bowie knives."
She looks confused, which doesn't exactly tell me much considering she's a literal amnesiac. Then Chrom cuts in. "What is that, exactly? Or a Bowie?"
Oh. Well, I guess I'm just a bumbling dipshit, it seems. Guess they don't have either of these kinds of blades here.
"A Poignard is one of these," I gesture, holding out my blade for them to see. "it's a blade that's meant for thrusting and piercing and stuff. A Bowie isn't really as effective at stabbing but it's really big and scary. I had one made custom back home. Very expensive, but it was real sharp, and real nice. Even had a mahogany hilt. Thing was huge."
Chrom looks enthused, as does Robin. The other two however, are indifferent. Different strokes for different folks, I guess. I sheathe my blade back into my boot, shaking my foot a bit to try and find a comfortable spot for it to rest. I get back to hobbling, falling in line with Robin. She's lagging behind the others, just a bit. I nudge her with my elbow, getting her attention. She must've been thinkin' real hard 'bout something.
"'Ey. Y'know, we haven't really gotten much of an introduction back in town. So what's yer story?" She breathes in through her nose, and out through the mouth. Head hanging just a bit.
"Well, that's the thing. I don't really know my story. I woke up just outside of Southtown, like you. Chrom and the others found me lying in an open field." Well, I already knew that, but hearing her talk about it is about as depressing as you'd think.
"And why, exactly were you lying in a field?" I ponder for the sake of appearances. Her head droops even further than before,
"I don't know. I can't remember anything beforehand. I have no memories of who I am, or where I came from." She laments. Man, now I feel like I kicked a puppy.
"Yeesh, that's rough. M'sorry. I'm sure it ain't easy. Hey, on the bright side it's probably more believable than my story, right?" She huffs at that.
"I suppose. Still..."
I pat her on the shoulder. "Yeah, I know. Neither of our situations are great. You've got just as much right to be unhappy as I do. I'm not gonna lie, your situation is worse than mine. I still got my memories, at least. Listen, I'm not the most helpful person, but I'll do what I can to help. After all, we're both fish out of water at this point, huh?" She lightens up just a bit at that, a small, tired smile creeping up on her face.
"Well, I guess you're at least right about that. Thank you, for that. I'll milk your good will for all it's worth, I hope you know." We have a bit of a giggle at that, coming back up on the others. They've stopped.
I approach Chrom. "Trouble, boss?" He shrugs his pack off onto the ground.
"None, thankfully. We'll be making camp here for the night. We'll get moving early in the morning, with any luck we'll arrive by midday tomorrow." I hadn't noticed it, but it is in fact getting a bit dark. Color me surprised.
"Right, then. Need any help setting up?" He thinks for a second, before looking to Frederick. "Frederick, do you need any help?"
He looks to Chrom, then to me, then to my dick.
No, wait- my guns. He's looking at my guns.
"I'm set with starting the fire, Milord. If he wants to go fetch us some meat, however, that would be helpful." Chrom glances back at me.
"Would you be alright with that?" I shrug.
"Eh, sure. Gives me something to do. It'll probably be easiest for me anyways." I unholster one of my guns, spinning it a bit of a flourish. He chuckles.
"Well, you aren't wrong. Go on then, we should be set up by the time you're back." I start towards the woods.
"You got it boss." I nod to him, before opening the hatch and loading 6 rounds into my revolver. And into the forest I began my Odyssey, in search of some meat.
Hopefully no bears.
…
Thankfully, no bears.
"Rrrngh!" I growl, dragging the carcass of a deer out of the woods. Looking at the damned thing, it's missing from between the eyes, and up. What a gruesome sight. Normally you don't shoot an animal in the head when you're hunting, since it's inhumane. If you miss, you can blow off its nose, or the end of its face. Then it'll survive, just long enough to starve to death.
I don't think this one will have to worry about that, though.
'Sides, A heart shot is fucking hard without a scope. And a single-action revolver. These things are outdated by like, a century and a half. By my standards, at least.
Anyhow I can see the camp, as simple as it is, fully set up. A campfire in the middle, with three bedrolls and two makeshift ones. Frederick notices me having some trouble, and comes over to me. His eyes widen.
"Merciful Naga, what did you do to the thing?" Okay, it might've been overkill. A little.
"Well, I wasn't confident I could hit the heart and I wanted to make sure I didn't just end up wounding the poor bastard. Either way, it's not like we were gonna eat its head. Anyway, can you help me drag this thing into camp? I think you might have an easier time than me." He grabs the other legs, and we pick it up. "Thanks, big man." He grunts, in what I assume is affirmation. Might be from exertion. I guess a huge deer is huge regardless of how strong you are.
We plop the deer down a few feet away from the bed rolls, and Frederick looks to me. "Would it be too much of a stretch to assume you know how to clean this?" He asks. Sadly, I do not, so I shake my head. He just gives an unapproving shrug. "Very well, I'll take care of it. Good work."
I tip my hat at him, winking. "Any time pardner." He looks like he's not entirely sure what to make of being called pardner. I think I'll leave him wondering, funnier that way. I plod over to Chrom, stoking the fire with a stick. "'Ey, bossman. I took care of dinner, caught us a deer. Fred's cleaning the carcass now. Anything else?"
He dumps a bundle of bark into the fire, before pushing them deeper into the fire with a stick. I get lost at the sight of it, watching the coals burn white hot. The leaves withering, black and crisp in the inferno. A small tipi of sticks in the middle, crackling and popping in the heat. I'm reminded of what's coming. Of what will happen in the next few short hours. When shit begins to get real.
"-om? Thom are you alright?" I snap out of my inner monologue, realizing I zoned out. I look and Chrom, concern written plain on his face. I shake my head a little, trying to clear my thoughts up.
"Yeah, yeah I'm good. Sorry 'bout that. I'm just thinking about moving my bedroll away from the fire a ways." I mutter. He hums, looking down at the fire.
"I wouldn't recommend it. It's going to be bitter tonight." I shrug. I'll take anything over being that close to the campfire. I'll avoid being lit on fire as long as I can manage.
"I'll take my chances, but thanks for the warning." I yawn, pulling my arms back behind me. "I think I'm going to sleep early, if that's alright with you. I wanna get up early so's I can wake up a bit 'fore we head out." I feel my eyelids droop a little, and I know I'm going to want to rest as much as I can before tonight gets... eventful.
"Are you sure? You'll miss dinner?" Chrom asks. Man, I'm not painting myself as someone who takes good care of himself, am I? Not like I do take good care of myself, I guess.
"Mh, I'm not very hungry. Sides, I don't eat much anyways. Thank you though."
He's quiet for but a moment, breaking the brief silence with a short "Okay." I try my best to give him a reassuring smile, but I think it comes with more of a grimace. I'm not a great actor, okay?
"Thanks, mate. I'll see you guys bright and early." I slip my boots off, sliding onto my jury-rigged bedroll. Face-down, eyes shut, I lay for a few minutes before drifting off into a fitful, short-lived sleep.
…
I awake to exactly what I had expected. Frederick climbing onto his horse, lance at the ready while Robin shakes me awake.
What it registers as at first however is two clammy, petite hands on my face. Both slapping my face. Left, right, left, right, left. Then a jolt as they seize my shoulders, rousing me awake.
"Thom, Thom wake up!" She exclaims in just under a shout. I shake my head, clearing the fog from my mind. I squint, not quite adjusted to the dark.
"Whuh? I'm up. What's goin' on?" I moan. Can the plot wait? Please, I'm still so tired. I sit up on my bedroll, rolling the soreness out of my neck that comes with sleeping on the ground.
"Chrom and Lissa are missing, we need to go look for them!" She urges. I sigh, throwing my head back before reaching over to my boots and sliding them on my feet.
"'Kay then. Let's get it done." I pull my guns from their holsters and load them, before holstering them again. I look down at my gunbelt to see all the rounds accounted for as if I never removed any from the belt. Man, that's fucky. I'm glad the gods threw me a bone, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't bother me at all. I look to Frederick, locking eyes with him. I nod to him, signaling that I'm set.
He faces the woods, "Quickly now, we must ensure that Milord and Milady's safety!" I crack my shoulders, and fall in behind him next to Robin.
She looks nervous, so I nudge her, giving her a thumbs up. "Nervous, mm? I'm sure we'll be all good." I assure her.
Although, knowing what lies ahead, I think I'm trying to convince myself more than her.