A/N: Well, how 'bout that? I started writing the next chapter less than a month after I uploaded the last one. Nobody saw that one coming.
In that time I've lost my job and car. Got a new job. Your boy is thriving.
Anyways, you're not here to hear about me. You're here to read a story. One which I hope is at least passable. Enjoy.
…...
"Rgh!" I grunt, wincing as Frederick manhandles me. "Can't ya' be a bit more careful?"
"No." He insists. "The straps need to be as tight as possible, otherwise it will just fall off of you. And you aren't very large so it's hard enough to get anything to fit you." He explains, finishing off the last strap of the plated vest. It was a simple brown leather, rough and thick with metal plates riveted to the front and back. It had ring mail on the sides to not leave me exposed, but otherwise it was rather plain. I had forgone my usual clothes for more... protective stuff. Y'know, like actual armor.
It definitely took away the cowboy vibes to a degree, but I felt a lot better about not being gelded now that I had actual protection. "That will do it." He nods, stepping back. I'd still had my work pants on, the end stuffed into the tops of my work boots, bloused. I hadn't taken Flora, mostly 'cause I wasn't confident in using it in real combat yet. At that point, it's just dead weight.
As for my guns, they were in their usual spot, and I had moved my dagger onto my forearm. True, I coulda' just concealed in my boot, but I wanted it somewhere it'd be easier to access. Subtlety ain't all that important at a time like this.
All of this was none of my idea, of course. I'm not smart enough to ensure my own self-preservation.
No, this was all Frederick.
"Thanks, big guy." I thank him, teeth grit as I pat my midsection. This thing was tight. But hey, safety over comfort.
"Think nothing of it." He dismisses. "You've come a long way since you began training. You've got a long way to go, so it's not as though I can let you die yet." He jokes. I chuckle. I'd come to find Frederick actually did have a sense of humor. Sometimes. I know, it was a shock to me too.
"Heh, riiight." I stretch, trying to settle into the unfamiliar clothing. I pick up my poncho, throwing it over my shoulders. Frederick gives a look for a moment.
"That reminds me, I have been meaning to ask. Why do you wear that, exactly? It offers no protection, from the weather or in combat." He knits his brow.
I just shrug. "As a sorta'... homage, I guess. To the hero of a story back home."
He looks on with interest, as I set my hat down with the rest of my clothes. I tie a bandana around my forehead, to keep sweat and hair out my eyes, but mostly for aesthetics. "What was this heroes' name?" He asks.
"...Y'know, funnily enough he was just called the 'Man With No Name'." I hum, preoccupied with making sure all my gear is settled. Satisfied, I nod to Frederick, and follow close behind as we make for the gate.
"What kind of hero has no name?" He wonders aloud, voice echoing through the corridor.
"Eh, I think he's just called that cause they only call 'em by a nickname, not a real name." I explain. "He's just called blondie, through the movie."
"So he does have a name, then?"
"Yea, no- well, I guess. I dunno, alright? I didn't write the damn story, it came out decades before I was born." I gripe. We come upon the rest of the Shepards, save for Robin. "So, we ready? Where's Robin at?" I greet them, looking around.
"Right behind you."
"What took ya' so long?" I ask her, fiddling with my revolver as I load it.
"I was off looking for you and Frederick." She huffs, looking annoyed.
"Ehh, sorry 'bout that. Frederick insisted I armor up. It's all his fault." I shrug.
"I- yo-" Frederick begins to stutter.
"Anyway, how long until it starts?" I ask her, placing my revolver back in the holster and beginning to load the other. She puts a finger to her chin.
Heh. Reminds me of Anna.
Ah, that lovable scamp. The personification of greed, that one.
"Shouldn't be too long. Let's go over the game plan." We huddle together, all at attention. "Frederick, Sully, you'll take point. I want you two to cut a path through the middle. You'll effectively act as a moving wall. Thom, you take the rear, watching our flank and pick off anyone who gets close. I'll be right behind Fred and Sully with Chrom, and Lissa will be in the middle of the group, healing." She finishes.
We're silent for a moment, looking to each other. I nod to Robin. "Sounds good." I look to the others. "Any questions?"
Nobody says anything, same for assorted murmurs. I nod to Robin. "Alright, let's do it."
I've just gotta' remember to give Chrom and Lucina space. It's not all that important but the less I interfere with the course of the story, the better.
We all offer small gestures of assent, and move to take positions in our little formation. I pound a fist on Fredericks chest, and offer him good luck.
We wait for what is a surprisingly short amount of time, before the gates fly open and we burst forward onto the field. I'm immediately hit with the realization that this is a VERY big event. It's like the super bowl, with blood sports. Frederick, stalwart as ever is stone cold and ready for the coming bloodshed. Likewise, Chrom is all business, maintaining a straight face. Gotta' look good for the Halidom, I guess. Lissa and Sully appear to soak in the cheers for a moment, while Robin seems set on keeping everything together.
All those cheers are nothing compared to how the crowds react to 'Marth' and the others. The crowd absolutely explodes. Right, Basilio's won every bout for the... Khanate? Khaganate? How the fuck do you say it? Either way, he's held the title of Khan for some time now.
For now. For now.
We all stand ready to charge forward, but Robin doesn't give the go ahead yet. On opposing sides of the arena, Basilio and Flavia take up positions at balconies.
"Flavia! Ready to lose, just like every other year, I see!" Basilio's voice booms, resonating through the arena.
Not to be outdone, Flavia fires back. "Ha! You wish, you old fool! This year I've gone champions a bit more substantial than the last. The crown prince of Ylisse, for example." The crowd erupts into another bout of cheers and whistles.
"So you do, woman. So you do. But I've got a new champion of my own. He even fought Lon'qu for the honor." He boasts. I'm sure if I was anywhere within face-seeing distance, I'd see Flavia clenching her jaw.
"We'll see whose picked the better champion, old man!" She growls.
"I guess we will, won't we?" He raises his hand, and the sound of horns ring through the air.
It's game time.
…...
I don't need to be here.
Look, that sounds lazy. I get it. Believe me I wish I had a story to tell. Fighting in front of all Ferox for the glory of Khan Flavia. Fighting (or just straight up ventilating) the best warriors Ferox has to offer. But the truth is...
The Shepherds just sorta... tore through everyone but Marth, who's currently locking swords with Chrom. Going through that whole shpiel you usually see in the cutscene before the mission starts. Can't believe I wasted all that time having Frederick strap me with armor all for nothing.
My job was to watch for people coming up behind. Problem was, there was nobody left to come up behind us. I'm not all too upset, really. I'm not some bloodthirsty killer, I wasn't looking forward to shooting anyone. Besides, I was kind of worried about using a fucking gun in front of all of Ferox.
A card better kept close to my chest, really. Of course, it's not like people didn't see them at all.
Still, I'm actually a bit let down. I wanted to look cool in front of all the buff warrior ladies.
Oh. Chrom just smacked Marth across the mouth with the flat of Falchion.
Hot damn, I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy watching even a little. I hadn't forgotten what she called me. "Imperious One." No clue what the hell it means, but Imperious doesn't sound like a good thing.
I'm not sure what the hell future me did, but I'm not sure I like the man I'd turned out to be.
Either way, Marth crumples to the ground. The crowd roars, chanting for Chrom. He levels the blade to Marth's neck, and for a moment there's quiet.
Of course, Chrom wouldn't kill a mosquito if he didn't have to. He sheathes Falchion, and the crowd cheers a second longer 'fore the trumpets doot and silence them. Flavia stands, as does Basilio.
"Hah! How'd you like that, old man? Guess your champion wasn't all that special, after all!" Flavia barks. Basilio doesn't even look mad, he just crosses his arms.
"Well, you win fair and square Flavia. Or should I say, Khan?" Basilio laughs.
Oh, Christ alive. I think I'm gonna go braindead listening to these people banter.
…...
In honor of Khan Flavia's victory, they're holding a feast. A party, of sorts.
That's what they say, at least.
I'd be there, but being the only one sober at a gathering full a booze doesn't entice me. Believe me, I was on probation for a few years. I been to plenty of gatherings while sober and not one of them was enjoyable.
Which is why I was hunting for something.
A guitar to be exact. Or as close to one as I could get. My best chance is to find Anna. And if she's as smart a businesswoman as I think, she'll have been at Arena Ferox.
Of course, I've been combing through the lingering crowds of people for 'bout an hour now. It's not really a market as much as a concessions area. Think of a normal arena back home. Or a stadium. 'Course, I've only made it through about 2/3 of the stalls and stands when I find her.
Bright red hair, and an unmistakable glint in her eye. A thousand-watt grin on her face as some poor bastard shuffles over his gold for a small dagger.
It's not particularly special, either. Rosewood handle, polished steel blade. It's a fancy looking knife, sure. But engravings give you no tactical advantage whatsoever. Definitely not worth five gold pieces.
No time like the present.
I approach the stall, clearing my throat at an obnoxiously loud volume. "You. Yer Anna, right?" I ask her, arms crossed. She assumes her signature pose, finger to her chin.
"That's me. Do I know you?" Anna ponders.
"I fought in the tournament. For Khan Flavia." I reckon she wasn't watching though. Knowing her, she was probably too busy selling her goods to watch.
"Sorry, I was too busy down here to watch. How do you know me? Shouldn't you be celebrating?" She quirks her eyebrow. Told ya'.
"I been told you're the person ta' go to for uh... strange wares. I need something." I explain. "And no. I'm dry for now, and I don't need to be around a bunch of people drinking right now."
"Ahh, I see. So, how can I help you?" She asks, getting down to business.
"Looking for something. An instrument, called a guitar. I don't reckon ya' happen to have just such a thing, d'ya?" I drawl.
"I just might, let me take a look." She tells me, turning to her various crates of goods. It takes a second, but she lets out a noise resembling surprise. "There it is! Knew I had something like that lying around!" She comes back to the counter of her stall, placing it down.
It's not the most expensive guitar I'd ever seen, but it was the only guitar I'd ever seen here, so it'd do. Looking carefully, I could just about make out the 'Fender' logo on the neck.
"Say, you're the only person I met who knows what this thing is. Let alone come asking for one. How is it you happen to know what a guitar is?" She questions. I got no doubt it's probably weird, me asking about an instrument that doesn't even exist in Archanea.
I shrug. "Eh. It's from my... homeland." I give her a sort of look, one what says 'if you know you know.' A look dawns in her eyes. One of realization? "All you gotta know is I'll pay for it. Well." She remains quiet for a moment, before getting back to business.
"Okay, then. 30 gold." WH-
"THI- YO- I SH-" I stutter, completely shocked. I knew she price gouged HARD but fuck me stupid, that's a bit much. I take a few deep breaths. In through the nose out through the mouth, Thom. "That's a bit much for this brand. It ain't exactly high-end." I argue.
"Perhaps, but where else will you find a guitar around here?" She counters.
"Fair point. But even then, that's an unrealistic price for anyone who isn't royalty. Which I sure as shit ain't." I tell her. "How does this sound? 'M with the Shepherds, under the command of the prince of Ylisse himself. You cut me some slack, and I'll bring some of the others by when we leave tomorrow to stock up on stuff and do some shopping before we go?" I proffer.
"And how do I know you won't just leave without coming back?" She asks. She makes a fair point. I really don't want to do this, but...
"Ever hear of collateral? I give you something important of mine. That way you know I'll be back for it tomorrow." I offer.
"Oh? What do you have in mind?" She wonders.
Hesitantly, I reach into my shirt, pulling my cross free from around my neck, before placing it down in front of her. "Was my old man's. He left it to me, so take care of it. Ain't leaving Ferox without it." I promise her.
She thinks on it for a moment. "You drive a hard bargain, but I'll bite. 27 and you have a deal." She offers.
"You're not really giving me my money's worth. Got strings for this thing? Throw in a pack and we're good."
I might be pushing my luck, but for every bit of coin I've saved this month I damn well gotta make it worth it.
"Fine. But if you don't hold up your end of the deal, you won't like what happens when I find you." She threatens, in her usual cheery tone. I shake her hand, and she tosses a small package of strings into the box before closing it up.
I scoop the gold out of my coinpurse, sliding it in front of Anna. Her face lights up. I tuck the box under my arm, and nod to her. "Pleasure doin' business, Anna."
"Likewise. By that way, I didn't get your name?" She asks.
"Y'can call me Thomas." I grunt.
"Nice to make another paying customer, Thomas. You'll have to tell me about your homeland more, sometime." She insists. Should have known she wouldn't let that go so easy.
"Yeah, yeah. Sure." I wave to her as I turn my back. "See ya' tomorrow."
And that was how I met one of my favorite characters.
…...
And that's how I came to be here. Pluckin' away at strings for the last two hours atop Arena Ferox. I'd always user a tuner to get the this right. With the lack of technology though...
Well, I'd hafta' make do.
It'd gotten dark by the time I got up here. Of course, firelight isn't the best for illuminating shit, so progress started fairly slow since I couldn't see the strings very well. I'd almost had it done, too. That was until I heard footsteps.
I scramble to my feet, waving my pistol around. "Who's that stumblin' around in the dark?!" I shout. They shout, and I hear the sound of someone crashing to the ground.
"I-it's me!" They shout, slurring a bit. It's...
"Robin?" I ask, deadpan.
"I'm sorry! P-please don' shoot me!" She slurs.
I sigh. "I ain't gonna shoot you, dumbass. Just scared me." I pick her up, brushing her off. "We gotta stop meeting like this. People will talk." I joke.
"I l-like meeting like diss." She says.
My face heats up a little bit, but I recoil at the smell of her hot breath.
"Ugh. Christ alive, girlie. How much did ya' drink?" I gag. "I could light your breath on fire." I sit back down at my spot, picking back up my guitar. She holds up a small flame in front of her face, breathing into it. When nothing happens, she pouts.
"Liar." She grumbles.
I bark a short laugh at that. "It was a figure a' speech." I pluck at the last string, turning the tuning peg. Finally, I hit the right note. Finally, it's in tune.
"So, how'd the party go?" I ask her.
"S'actually still going. I came looking for you." She responds, slowly.
"Oh, really? How'd ya' find me? You look like you can't tell which foot is left or right." I joke.
"One of the Feroxi soldiers pointed me up here." She explains, sitting down next to me. "Everyone at the party is missin' you."
"Oh, really? Sour ole Thomas?" I snort.
"I mean it!" She shouts, clumsily.
I let out a long, drawn-out sigh. "I know. I know. I just... after you left last night, I had a talk with that healer. The one we met when we were trainin', 'member?" She just hums, signaling me to go on. "Anyhow, we got to talkin'. She said some things what made sense. I decided I should go dry for a bit. Been drinkin' too much, too often lately." My eyes fall to my feet. "Seen it happen to my pops, y'know? Leanin' on it like a crutch. I think that's where I get it from."
She yawns. "That's good." She grunts loudly, laying down.
"So, what's been going on? I miss anything fun?" I ask her, picking at the strings a bit.
"Not much. Drinking, celebrating, the new guy Lon'qu hiding in the corner away from all the women. Oh, you haven't met her yet but Khan Basilio gave us someone, too. A dancer." She rambles.
"She pretty?" I ask, already knowing the answer.
"I'm gonna change the subject before you say something to make me hit you." Robin groans. God, I love pissing her off.
"Ah, you love me." I scoff. Robin looks away, hiding her face.
"So, what's that thing you've been messing with up here?" She asks, changing the topic.
"Ehh, it's called a guitar." I drawl.
"What's a guitar?" She asks, voice full of childlike curiosity.
"An instrument." I huff.
"Can you play it?"
"...Would I have bought it if I couldn't play it?" I ask, deadpan.
"...Okay, dumb question. Play me a song." She demands.
"I- what?" I ask, confused.
"Y'heard me. Play me a damn song. One from your home." She repeats.
"Have I mentioned how much you're startin' to sound like me?" I joke.
"Stop stalling. Play" She grouses.
"Okay- okay." I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly.
I take a moment, thinking of a song. I promptly settle on one of my favorites. Before you judge me, yes I got my taste in music from New Vegas and yes, it was one of my favorite games of my childhood.
"Tell me what's in a kiss
If your heart's not in it
We could have wedded bliss
If we'd only begin it
I'm feelin' low down
You know what I'm talkin' about
You let the blues move in
Now I'm movin' out"