Chapter 8
Corrin gasped as she awoke, sure she could still feel an ache throughout her body. Garon had shifted into a half-formed dragon, one clawed hand pinning her to the ground while holding her dragonstone between his teeth. He shifted his weight and just as she could have sworn she felt herself pop she jolted awake. Her heart was racing and her mouth felt dry. She tried to lick her lips and the roof of her mouth, swallowing repeatedly to clear the back of her throat of the taste of bile.
She turned up onto her side, to see Azura still sleeping on her back where Corrin had curled up to her before drifting off. She couldn't recall when she rolled away and missed the warmth of her arms around her. But the thought made her bite down on her bottom lip and she sat up, gazing at the moving flap of the tent opening as it rustled in the nighttime breeze. The chilled air made her realize just how overheated she was feeling.
She gazed over at Azura, wondering if her Azura had looked so peaceful when asleep. If she would sleep with her head lolled to the side, one arm draped over her stomach. The other, though, was still stretched out from where Corrin had fallen asleep in her embrace. She swallowed again, her mouth still dry. She remembered how warm she had felt in her arms before they dropped down against their bedroll; and tried to shoo away the memory of holding her Azura as she pleaded with her to smile one more time before fading away. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes to fight the sting of tears, gritting her teeth together to keep the pain in her throat from breaking into a sob. She released a slow shuddering breath and gave another glance at the sleeping woman beside her, watching her chest rise and fall. She glanced at her bare arms for signs of blue patches.
She shook her head, deciding she needed fresh air. She carefully shifted herself out from under the blanket her and Azura shared and reached to pull some layers back on. She walked to the small table that served as her desk, pulling Azura's pendant from the drawer. She slid out of the tent and stood with a stretch, feeling cracks along her back and sighed. She pressed her face into her palms, rubbing roughly.
She walked away from the tent, hoping she was heading in the right direction to reach the river. She looked up at the cloudless sky and wanted to drop onto her back and stare into the stars. She remembered a late night where Azura had stopped her on her way back to the treehouse to stargaze with her, trying to teach her the names of the constellations. Looking up tears started to burn in her eyes when she couldn't find a single familiar pattern. They weren't her stars.
The pendant was clutched tight in her hand, the intricate metal edging digging into her palm and she held onto it even tighter, her mind gripped with the irrational fear that she was going to drop it and never be able to find it again. She raised her hand to press it tight against her chest, using her free and to slip the chain around her neck.
Even at night the camp wasn't quiet. There was still the clamor of voices, popping fires, the sounds of instruments and singing. She wanted to get away from it. How could these people fight in battle if they were up all night? Soon the din of the camp faded away and she could hear the running water of the river that provided the camp's water. People were still milling about the shore, and she grimaced at the crowd.
Her eyes looked down at the hand clutching Azura's pendant to her chest and tucked it into her loose undershirt, crossing her arms over her chest. She failed to grab her cloak when she left the tent and the night air held a chill. She sighed, wanting away from the tent city and its noise. She walked upstream, watching people bathe and launder clothing. Some fished and others may have been swimming. She kept walking, the noise feeling like it was following her. But as the din quieted and the trees grew thicker she let the first sob break the ache in her throat. The dragon pendant that she ever wore around her neck felt warm against her skin and the ache spread to her limbs. She felt the skin around her joints tightening and the sharp pain in her limbs as they elongated. Her vision narrowed but grew sharper, color grew dimmer but light brighter. Her sob cut off into a low rumble and her pace slowed. She stared at the river, and dropped herself onto the sandbank.
She rested her head down and her vision stared out into the water. The damp sand was cold against her scales and she settled her wings over her back to shield from the slight wind. There were no people close enough to have witnessed her transformation, or to disturb her thoughts. She heaved a heavy sigh that sounded akin to the hoot of an owl, a mournful note that carried across the river.
She could see a long-necked white bird swimming in the ripples, its own song joining Corrin's lament. She silenced herself to listen to the song, her chest heavy as she wondered what Azura would think of it before squinting her eyes to chase away the thought and the pain it brought. She watched the white bird and it started to swim to shore. She stilled the twitching of her tail and wondered what type of bird this was. She was never good at such trivia.
The bird changed its tune as it approached the sandbank, leaving a gap of silence before it would repeat the notes. Corrin tilted her head, wondering what it was doing. But after another repeat of the pattern she tried to mimic the song of the bird. Her own voice was too deep, lacking the melodic grace. But the bird responded to her song with a different one. Something about the song helped to soothe her, drifting to memories of being sung lullabies as a child.
The bird came ashore and hopped up onto the sand. Its feathers were cream-white, or appeared so to the washed colors of her dragon-eyes. She kept her body still, unsure what it was doing. She had always known birds to be skittish creatures that flew off at the slightest startle. Why did this one think it wise to approach the giant dragon? But then the bird popped and turned into a young woman, startling Corrin hard enough to cause her to pop back into her own human form.
"You're a human?!" Corrin squeaked, catching herself on her arms before she fell on her back. The young woman smiled and nodded, then gestured at her.
"Uh. Yeah, guess I can change myself too. Umm… who are you?" Corrin asked. The first reply was a song, but after a few seconds of silence she spoke again.
"Leanne." Even her speaking voice sounded very melodic.
"Corrin." Answered, feeling a slight twinge of embarrassment of the blunt sound of her own voice compared to the delicate song. She was tall and lithe, appearing as though as gust of wind would carry her away. Her hair was long and pale-blonde. Initially Corrin thought it was extremely thick in a way that contrasted with her otherwise fragile appearance until she rolled her shoulders and she realized that Leanne had wings even in her "human" form. They were folded and held tightly against her body, her arms folded in front of her and held tight to her chest. Corrin bit down on her lip, seeing her downcast expression. Silence hung between them for several seconds before she took several steps back and turned back into her dragon form, legs folding under her so she could lie against the sand once more and tried to sing at Leanne, the broken notes already causing the young woman's body language to change.
Leanne smiled and looked up at Corrin and started to hum a song to her. Corrin's head settled down against the sand, trying to latch onto the fleeting happy feelings the song was bringing. Memories of song comforting her when sick. The way Azura would idly humm whenever she was busy with something and unaware of others paying attention to her; but oh how Corrin became enamored with that song. Her chest clenched, and she let out a low moan. Leanne's song paused and Corrin felt a new wave of guilt. She didn't want this strange girl to stop her song just because she couldn't keep her own thoughts sorted for more than a few moments at a time.
She tried to humm a few notes back to the girl, who simply frowned back. She took a step closer to Corrin and shifted back into her bird form and her song changed in pitch. She closed her eyes and listened to the song that she sang and started to lose the energy to sort through her thoughts and just let her mind mull on how much she just simply wanted to lie there. Leanne was settled in the sand singing her lament, her feathers standing up slightly breaking the graceful silhouette she had when she first changed. She sang for some minutes before silence came again, and she turned back into the winged human.
"Sad?" She asked. Corrin shifted her head and looked at her, and then nodded. A few more seconds of silence and she turned into a human again, her whole body aching. She was overcome by the intense desire to sleep and wondered how long she had lingered as a dragon to become this exhausted. The stone against her chest was warm and she tapped her hand to make sure she could feel Azura's pendant there next to her dragonstone. She let out a sigh when she found it, her fingers curling around it. "Sad." Leanne repeated.
"Yeah." Corrin answered, she slid the pendant out, running her thumb along the intricate design. "And confused." she added. "You from a village nearby?" Corrin asked to shift the subject away from herself and her feelings. But Leanne stood there passively, her brow coming together. "Where are you from?" Leanne hesitated, and Corrin was unsure if the girl was understanding her.
"Far away." She finally answered. Corrin looked around for any signs of a path or method of transport, wondering if she had possibly flown here. Leanne looked around to follow Corrin's gaze and shook her head, repeating her answer.
"You were summoned." She realized. How often did these Askrians pull people away from their worlds? Leanne nodded a bit, her expression a bit pinched as if deep in thought. She spoke a few words that sounded like a melodic song absent of lyrics. But after a few more moments she captured Corrin's gaze again.
"From far away. Very… angry… woman." The woman's chest rose and fell, shaking her head and she stepped back from Corrin.
"Hey hey, I'm not angry. I won't hurt you."
"No. Angry woman" She repeated, and looked over her shoulder then back at Corrin.
"Oh. The person who summoned you was an angry woman?" She wondered if maybe Anna's bluntness had set this odd woman off, and though she barely knew her she already had trouble picturing Sharena in a foul mood.
"From far away, here, Veronica." Leanne tried, the gaps between her words filled with musicality. Corrin felt the color drain from her face, her stomach dropping. Her shoulders stiffened and she saw Leanne back away from her,and she tried to adjust herself but felt her heart racing in her chest. Is she an agent? No. She'd be stupid to admit where she's from. She looks scared.
"You startled me. I'm sorry. I won't hurt you." Corrin tried to reassure, holding her palms up. She remembered the song she shared with her and stepped back to give herself the room to shift back into her dragon form. Her joints were already protesting at the mere idea of trying to change again so soon but managed it, and tried to humm her low song to the girl who was back in the water as a white bird. Heron the word suddenly came to her with a fleeting memory of Sakura correcting her when she pointed to a bird and called it a loon.
Leanne folded her wings back against her body, swimming in place just out of Corrin's reach. She laid herself down against the sand and continued to sing, feeling almost like an awkward child. She wondered how she would like Azura's song, sung in her beautiful voice. She felt calmer thinking of possibly hearing that song herself, and sudden guilt at having left Azura alone in the tent surrounded by a tent-city of strangers. She wondered why Leanne had mentioned Veronica, and if she was in trouble. She pushed the mounting questions aside and continued her strange song. Eventually Leanne rejoined her, fluffing her feather and letting them settle back down against her body. They sang, though Corrin felt ashamed at how blunt her song sounded compared to the beauty behind Leanne's notes. I really do gotta get her to meet Azura they'll be best friends in like a minute. She thought to herself. She smiled, picturing her shy Azura making a friend. Even if that joy hid behind a slight jealousy.
Corrin carefully shifted back into her human form when she felt her body ready to snap. She knelt on the ground and panted, her whole body aching and pleading for her to crawl to sleep even if it meant doing so right here on the sand. Leanne also changed back into her human form and approached her.
"Sick?" she asked.
"Tired." Corrin shook her head. "I want to introduce you to my friend. Maybe we can help you." She offered. Leanne's eyes looked distant for a moment, and nodded before Corrin reworded her question. She finally stood, wincing slightly at the ache in her knees. She was going to hate herself when the sun got up and it was time to meet with the Askrians.
"Tired." Leanne replied, and tapped her chest.
"Umm I'll find you a place to sleep." She offered, though she was unsure how she was going to do this. She thought about Lilith, and knew she was overdue to see her dear friend and that she would never turn down someone in need. "I know I'm a stranger… but I'll help you." Leanne smiled at this, and Corrin noted the shift in her body language.
"You… you are kind."
"You seem really nice too." They started to walk downriver, towards the din of camp and the smells of campfire, food, mud, and people. Leanne stood closer to Corrin as things grew denser, and she tried to get her bearings and remember where Lilith's tent was in reference to the river. They walked through the rows, Corrin following the path towards the tactician tents so she could better figure out where she was. The camp was large, and she hadn't realized just how far off she had wandered. She bit down on her bottom lip feeling lost in the endless maze of noise, smells, and monotonous white, gold, and blue.
"Corrin!" She flinched hearing her name, and tried to look for the face to match that familiar voice. She immediately felt her heart begin to race and heat spread across her cheeks.
"Azura?"
"There you are." Azura rushed down the row and halted before Corrin, "I was worried." she threw her arms around her, who momentarily went stiff before recovering from the startle and lifting her arms to wrap them back around Azura. She took in a deep breath and sighed, feeling content for a moment.
"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to scare you. Had trouble sleeping." She offered in explanation and drew back, biting down hard on the back of her tongue and avoiding Azura's gaze. The weight of the pendant on her neck felt like it was about to pull her to the ground and she glanced down at it, wishing she had tucked it deep into her shirt.
"Seems you made a friend?" Azura asked, her own gaze seeming to have caught sight of the pendant but turned her attention to the woman beside her.
"Oh. Yeah, this is Leanne. Leanne, this is Azura." Leanne glanced between her two companions and smiled, releasing the grip on her own fingers to give a small polite wave before dropping her arms and clasping her fingers behind her back.
"A pleasure to meet you." Azura smiled, getting a nod in return. "Out late." she remarked.
"She was at the river." Corrin paused, trying to piece together the bits of their conversation and how to explain it without sounding half-crazy. "I think she was summoned by Veronica and ran off, and found herself at the river. I don't think she speaks the same tongue as us." She hesitated, looking at Leanne to give her a chance to cut in if she wanted but she stayed quiet, but seemed less tense than earlier. She turned her attention back to Azura, and recounted meeting the skittish shapeshifter. "I wanted to bring her to meet Lilith. She was singing with me as a dragon so maybe she can talk to Lilith and feel safe sleeping there tonight and maybe meet the Askrians tomorrow." Corrin offered. She felt heavy at the thought of bringing her into this war, especially after she had fled the person who had summoned her into it. Maybe I shouldn't bring her to Alfonse and the others.
"That sounds like a good idea." Azura's voice shook her attention and she nodded. There was a long pause, Corrin swallowing hard before being the one to speak.
"Walk with us?"
"I'd like that." Azura nodded. Together the three women crossed the camp. Leanne seemed to have a slight bounce to her step, humming a bit as they walked. Azura joined in, and Leanne seemed to glow as she started to hum a little louder. Corrin fell a step behind the two women, enjoying listening to their song.
Lilith was curled at the edge of her pond when they reached the site where her tent was pitched, Corrin suddenly wishing she had thought of fishing at the river to have a gift for her friend. She walked up to the sleeping dragon, who roused hearing her footsteps. She stretched in a very cat-like manner, her yawn trailing into a chirp before she curled her tail up against her chest and sat upright, her ears perking up when she saw who it was that woke her.
"Corrin! Always a lovely surprise!" She cheered. Her happiness felt infectious and Corrin smiled, extending her arms and hugging the little dragon. "What brings you here in the middle of the night? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I went for a walk and ran into someone I think you might be able to help." She half-turned and gestured at Leanne who stepped forward and gave Lilith a light bow.
"Oh, hello!" She greeted.
"Hello." Leanne smiled. Corrin once again explained how her late night walk ended, and tried to gesture for Leanne to come closer.
"You're very welcome to stay in my tent. There's a bed in there. I prefer to sleep here next to the water, so you aren't banishing me from my own bed." Lilith offered. Leanne worked her bottom lip, her brow coming together and after a few seconds shook her head. Lilith glanced over at Corrin.
"I don't think she speaks our language very good. But she likes music a lot." She explained. Lilith nodded, then turned her attention back to Leanne and chirped and purred in an oddly melodic way, and Corrin wondered if she had ever heard her sing in her dragon form. A memory came to mind of being sick in bed, Lilith coming to her room and singing as she tidied her room for her. Her chest ached, her body feeling incredibly heavy once more and hoped that being pulled to this world would spare Lilith the fate she had suffered from her world.
But then Leanne started to sing back, turning back into a heron after a few notes and settled herself in the water of Lilith's small pond. The dragon and heron started to sing together and Corrin bit her bottom lip and felt a small smile tug at her lips.
"You know where our tent is, please come get me if either of you need anything." Corrin offered once there was a pause in their song.
"It's very late, you need sleep. I bet Azura will be coming to me first thing in the morning for help waking you up, slug-a-bed." Heat once again flared across Corrin's face, Lilith chirping and Azura was giggling behind her.
"Quite likely." The songstress agreed.
"I'm not that bad!" Corrin objected.
"Oh, love, you most certainly are." Azura giggled, pressing her fingers to her mouth to unsuccessfully suppress her laughter. Corrin pouted, and Azura reached out a hand, "You cannot argue that sleep though is wise." Corrin took her extended hand, heat burning in her cheeks and she avoided both Azura and Lilith's gazes, and curled her fingers around Azura's and followed her tug. Leanne and Lilith both chirped and sang more goodbyes when they turned to return to their own tent.
Once back, Corrin felt the heaviness return once more. She took in a deep breath and tried to let it out slowly while Azura entered the tent before her. The bedrolls were still placed next to each other and Azura had taken her spot atop one of them, Corrin sitting down beside her.
"I'm sorry I worried you." Corrin started. "Had a nightmare and needed to walk."
"I… I hope you do not feel that I'm pressuring you." Azura blurted. Corrin looked up and was surprised to see that Azura was smoothing out her dress, rubbing the fabric between her thumb and forefinger.
"What? No! Umm really, I had a nightmare. I never sleep good after them…" Corrin replied, speaking too quickly and cleared her voice.
"You're wearing her pendant." Azura remarked. "I have no trinket of hers." She added after a few moments of silence, her brow coming together and lines appearing around her nose.
"I…" Corrin started, and stopped. She hooked her thumbs around the chain around her neck and slid the pendant out, pulling it up and over her head, staring at it in the palm of her hand.
"I loved her. I love you." Azura whispered. She took a deep breath, breath shuddering as she released a long sigh. Silence hung between them, Corrin balling and releasing her fists to tug at her black leggings. She looked up when Azura sighed and started speaking again "Were I the one who died, and she the one who lived and held your heart… I would want you to be happy. I would be happy knowing that you found love." Azura's voice cracked and her lip thinned as she stared down at her own hands.
"I… I love you," Corrin answered, mulling over those words. Her ever selfless Azura, always wanting those around her to find joy. She thought about a reverse situation, and knew she felt the same. She would want Azura, her Azura, or the woman sitting next to her, to find happiness. Azura's hand reached out to grab Corrin's, their fingers lacing together. Their walk had left her hand cold and the joke died in the back of her throat before it finished forming. She gripped her hard, and felt Azura do the same.
"I know it's weird… but maybe this is the gods giving us a chance they stole from us." Azura suggested. Corrin thought again of Azura fading away in her arms. Of knowing that she had loved her too, that neither dared to voice it when they had the chance. Of the hilltop confession that set her heart alight. Of collapsing into her embrace that night and caving to long suppressed desires.
"I'm not betraying her?" Corrin asked, her own voice cracking. The hand gripping her leggings tightened, aching her hand and she felt Azura give her hand a squeeze, causing her to look up at her.
"If her and I are truly the same soul from different worlds, I promise you Corrin, that she would be happy for you." The mounting ache in Corrin's throat broke with a sob, and her breath hitched. Azura let go of her hand to wrap her arms around her and pull her close, and Corrin threw her arms around her, gripping the back of her dress and burying her face against her shoulder and wept. But she died. I never told her. She never got to feel happy knowing her feelings were returned. She thought, unable to bring them to voice.
"I love you." She croaked. Azura drew back slightly, and brushed her thumb over Corrin's cheek to dry her tears. She leaned in to plant a kiss on her cheek, her lips lingering for a few moments.
"I feel the same. I know your Corrin would want you to be happy because I want you to be happy. I'd want her to be happy." She stumbled through her words, hesitating and stuttering as she struggled with the right pronouns again struck by the oddity of her situation.
"Then let's honor their memories and allow ourselves to be happy." Azura rested her hand against Corrin's cheek, and she tilted her head against the touch. She nuzzled Azura's palm, bringing her own hand up to press against the back of hers and hold her hand in place. Azura leaned in to dare a simple kiss, Corrin leaning into it. Their lips lingered, Corrin responding with a deeper kiss before she drew back. "Perhaps now you might fight a peaceful sleep?"
"I hope so… I wasn't lying about the nightmare." Corrin replied, feeling a chill run down her back and the hair on her arm stand on end when she remembered feeling her body pop.
"I'll hold you to make sure." Azura kissed her again, lingering, sighing.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Fjorm woke, noting the inside of the tent was still dark. She had always been a light sleeper, and with slight irritation tried to identify which of the sounds around her had woken her up. She reached over to the lamp and turned the small knob, the flint wheel requiring several clicks before the oil soaked wick took flame. It gave out a minimal light but it was enough for her eyes in the pre-dawn hours.
She could smell the soiled bandage around her arm and curled her nose, debating pouring wine over it to quelch the pain, but was worried about causing any harm. She knew little about healing, and wanted to place her trust in Alfonse. Her stomach rumbled, and she was glad for the bits of food leftover on her bedside. A few mouthfuls of bread and cheese, enough to slake her hunger until a proper meal could be had.
The meeting she had been brought to had left her unsettled. They spoke of it with such an air of casualness that she wondered just how long their war had been carrying on. Surtur had sprung upon her home nation so suddenly that she would not consider herself familiar. The first attacks razed cities to the ground, and within the month she was forced to flee the capital.
She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, whimpering as the memories flooded back and the pain in her arm flared with new intensity, feeling fresh; she could feel the heat of the flames and the screams of the castle servants. She wondered if the rest of her siblings escaped or were burned to ash. Her throat caught and broke into a sob, and she pressed her fists harder against her face. She wanted to scream. She wanted to scream until her throat was raw, until her lungs ran out of breath; to cry until dried up. She remembered her older sister screaming at her to run, telling her she would ensure their youngest sister would escape the castle.
She looked at her lamp and extinguished it immediately, breathing far too quickly until she saw that flame vanish. The room disappeared into darkness again, and she looked around for flickers of yellow and orange, of stone heated red-hot or metal glowing white. But it was only blackness that surrounded her, the occasion dark shapes outlining the furniture.
Fjorm got up, needing to do something with herself. The pain in her arm was growing more intense and she decided that she would go find Alfonse. Certainly he wouldn't argue with being woken a touch early to help her tend to her wounds? She got up, then sat back down, feeling as though it would be rude to wake him. He was due to leave on an intense mission later that day. He needed his sleep. She stood again, debating a walk, but the wobble in her knees had her sitting back down. The room felt too small, the air too hot.
She got up again, finding her lance against the wall where it had been for several days. I wonder why he never took it to an armory? She mused for a moment. But she grabbed it with her good arm, using it as a support. Feeling less unsteady she left the tent, the outside air felt almost as good as diving into the river in the depth of summer. She gulped in the cooler wind, finding it easier to push images of fire from the backs of her eyes, the wind dulling the pain in her arm.
She glanced around the camp, and was surprised to see she was not the only person awake. She bit down on her lip, realizing a few campfires were lit, irregular specks of orange in a sea of black. Breathe Fjorm. She told herself. She tried to remember where the head tent was. Was it behind the tent she was healing in or a bit more to the right? She tried to get her bearings, and finally saw a familiar sight. Some fires to the north had light reflecting off stone pillars that led to where Alfonse had told her they summoned heroes to help with their cause. She again found herself wondering how long the war had endured if they were forced to pull people from various worlds to supplement their numbers, that they had run out of men in their own country.
She followed the narrow path between tents, fear rising once again as she passed by campfires and quickened her pace. There was an abrupt end to the tents and a few dozen meters further ahead was the central tent, which was almost a cabin in some ways, where she knew Alfonse was sleeping.
Now looking at the tent she felt foolish. He was the leader of an army trying to catch what little sleep was possible prior to another mission. The idea of the enemy building a bridge to try and sneak up to them was concerning. An overturned log that had been sawn in half served as a bench before a spent campfire and a cast iron pot hovering over it. She was certain if she put her hand onto the metal it would still feel warm, and had a sudden craving for a rich stew from her homeland made of rabbits and root vegetables in a cream broth.
She sat on the log, and wondered if they would sit here and tell stories taking turns poking at whatever was in that cookpot. It was something she had seen people do but never herself. The kitchen in her castle was always so full of people making various foods. She was certain she wouldn't be able to even make an edible oat porridge if she tried. Yet these Princes and Princesses are leading a war.
Dawn came within the hour, and she passed time watching the camp wake up. Noise started filling the air and as the wind blew she caught scents of wood and cooking food. Anxiety started to ebb and she once again felt foolish for fleeing the comfort of her tent to come wake the Prince. While she knew he likely slept in comfortable garb, she couldn't help the amusing mental image of him sleeping in that absurd uniform with its large gold flourish.
She looked down at her own clothing, and wondered when she last changed. They weren't her usual dress, and her memory was spotty since her flight from home. But had she been sleeping in this dress for days? In a rather un-ladylike manner she lifted her arm to give herself a sniff and wasn't very proud of herself. How had Alfonse endured her company like this? She thought about walking to the river and washing herself in it like the common folk. As now, she was no better than they. Highborn or no she slept in a tent and was as much a victim of war as they. Before she could move back to her tent or visit the river, she heard fabric shifting and saw the now familiar head of dark blue hair poking out of his tent.
"Fjorm?" Alfonse asked, his voice low with remaining sleep.
"G...good morning," she greeted him, hoping her embarrassment wasn't showing on her face. "I'm sorry, I woke up a bit early and thought I could try and catch you before you left on that mission."
"Well, I am caught indeed," he said, his smile easing any worry his words could awaken in her mind. Then he frowned, as though realizing why she could have woken up so early. "How is your arm?"
He took a step forward, dressed in his usual white pants and a dark blue shirt which she'd only guessed from his collar so far, his sword at his side, but his golden armor and boots not on yet. He looked quite regal, and Fjorm couldn't help noticing how defined his bare arms were. Her own arm stung beneath her bandages.
"I… I've been a bad guest…"
"What? If you need help, I'm more than happy to help."
How could she explain that it wasn't just the physical pain eating away at her. She was going to miss him. The easy talks, the budding sense of being safe.
"How about company?" she mustered.
Alfonse gave a nod and sat himself next to her on the bench, giving her a subtle once-over, if only to ascertain her body language wasn't showing discomfort.
"Would you like some breakfast?" he offered.
"Certainly."
As she'd guessed, the pot above the campfire was still warm, Alfonse sighing.
"The cooks are always making sure I get warm stew first thing as I get up."
"That's thoughtful."
"That's also more than I ask of them." He bent forward to gather bowls from a small box sitting under the bench and offered her one, before to revise his idea and set it between them.
"I can use both of my hands," Fjorm noted.
"No need to push yourself if it's unnecessary."
He filled up her bowl and then his, offering to bring out a table if it could make eating more comfortable.
"Oh no, it's fine."
There were more people getting up, but none of them were walking up to them to ask anything of Alfonse and she was glad for this quiet moment with him. For a man who commanded an army into battle, he was so very peaceful. The stew turned out not only very warm but also filling, with potatoes, squash and beef that nearly melted on her tongue.
"This is delicious," she said softly.
"Glad you're enjoying it." After a short pause spent looking at her from the corner of his eye, Alphonse managed a question. "Did you wait sitting here for long?"
"I… The sun was not quite out yet, but…"
His eyes widened.
"Fjorm, if you need help, you can…" His breath cut short as he wondered how improper it would be taken, for a princess to waltz into his tent. He was just so used to Sharena barging in on him all the time, and he didn't want Fjorm to feel isolated. He'd watched her sleep now and again, mostly when he was hoping for her to wake up to share a meal, and whenever she had a nightmare, it brought back all the protectiveness in him.
"I think the fact there was nowhere I could knock defeated my purpose," she admitted, blushing slightly. "The burns started hurting again and I thought… Since you'll be gone for a little while…"
She was fidgeting with both hands, the spoon in her now empty bowl clicking as it moved around a bit.
"Of course. Don't be embarrassed for asking. I like to help. Should we go back to your tent?"
They both felt awkward in a sense, but she agreed, Alfonse helping her back to her feet and following her to the tent, not quite aware of the eyes following their progression across the edge of the camp. In the back of his mind, he made a note to relocate Fjorm's tent closer if she decided to stay with them for a longer time. He was shocked to surmise that after such a short amount of time, he already wanted her to stay.
It's not like I can let her run back to her kidnappers and her kingdom was attacked… he tried to convince himself it was all noble intention.
But offering her his arm for support and getting a shy "no" stung. Why did it even sting?
Back in her tent, they left the door-panel open to have some natural light, Alfonse helping her out of the bandage. He offered to teach her what little he'd been told by the healer, in case she wanted to do this herself while he was gone.
"I hope you're not afraid to visit the healers…"
"I am not."
She had more to say, but kept her mouth shut, unsure she should open herself up by mentioning how familiar he felt and how more comfortable she was around him. He was leaving to fight another battle in his war, she couldn't be that attached or dependent on him, especially now.
"Okay then."
He carefully washed her wound, holding back on apologies when she winced, and set the new bangade as efficiently as he could. In a few days, he'd become quite good at it.
"Does it sound bad if I thank you for giving me an opportunity to learn better first care skills?"
She laughed at the sheepish look he gave her, shaking her head softly to avoid pulling on the burned skin of her side. Her eyes were aching again, and her throat felt tight. A laugh and suddenly it was all coming back, as though the tent had soaked into the nightmares of her home burning. Alfonse sensed her stifling next to him and noticed how tightly her shoulders were held now.
"Is that too tight?" he asked, ready to apologize.
"No. No, it's…"
She pressed her hands against her face, Alfonse dropping both arms by his sides so he wouldn't hold her back from doing what she needed to feel better.
"Nightmares?"
Her head shook again.
"I can't seem to forget," she managed, biting back on a sob.
His arms reached for her, Fjorm flinching back. Was this what she needed? Was this what Sutr and his men had reduced her to? Was she unable to hold her head steady for more than a few days and…?
"There's no way I can leave if you're in such a state." Alfonse whispered to her, his arms held open.
"I… I smell," she said, feeling herself flushing as she realized which one of the many ideas on her mind she'd picked to tell out loud.
"And? I'm going to smell as soon as I put my armor on," he shot back, earning himself another weak chuckle.
Did he want to hear her laughing fully? It was most certainly one of the sweetest sounds he might hear. The idea was blossoming in his chest, like a thundering need. He had to leave even if she was not smiling, he couldn't stay behind when he was letting his own sister take risks.
"I'm okay though," Fjorm insisted.
She wasn't sure why. There was no fever to justify the need to be cuddled. And yet, a part of her longed for his gentle embrace. She remembered the ride on his horse, how he held her in front of her, how uncomfortable it was to bump into each other and yet…
A rooster called, making them both jump. Alfonse's face fell as he realized what time it had to be.
"Seems I should go get ready," he said, his arms falling back limply. "If you need anything while I'm away, you can ask Anna, or Dorcas, I swear, he's the gentlest soul…"
Fjorm felt bad seeing how worried he was about her, so she stepped back up and wrapped her good arm around her, a fleeting embrace that left him blinking at her as she blinked away any trace of her treacherous tears. They hadn't fallen and she wouldn't let them.
"To wish you luck out there," she whispered, her eyes somehow holding his. "Two can play the worry game."
"I… Thanks. I mean…"
How was "thanks" the right way to confer the happy butterflies that had suddenly surged deep inside him?
"Have I taken away your ability to speak, my prince?"
The flush that had started on his ears spread out, Alfonse biting his tongue in the hope that would help him regain his senses.
"Worry about healing first," he managed, finding his words but not his sense of propriety. "We have yet to enjoy a proper walk."
"I shall hold you to that," she replied, smiling almost fully now.
Their eyes held each other for longer than the hug ever could, Alfonse nearly walking into the tent's fabric as he tried to exit without looking away from her.
To be continued…