Warnings: Mentions of suicidal thoughts and a suicide attempt.

I finished this back in like...March. I've finally finished gotten around to posting it. :3b

Sorry if the PoV gets confusing. I thought a lot about it, though, and I like it so. Cool. ;)

Hope you enjoy!

Smoke filled the air long before the town came into view. The road they were travelling on wound up, cresting a tall hill and laying out the fields below, where the town of Xi'Dan was nestled snugly amongst the hills. They had intended to overnight, here, the chance for real beds too great to resist. Fate, it seemed, had other plans.

The fire had largely stopped burning, but the smoke certainly hadn't dissipated. Inigo tightened his grip on his reins, not wanting his mare to shy at the smell, and nudged her closer to Xander's side. "Milord..."

Xander didn't reply, at least not out loud, but his strained expression spoke volumes. There was a deep furrow between his brows, and his lips seemed to be chiselled into a permanent frown.

Inigo shared a glance with Peri, riding on Xander's other side, then tried again, "Milord, this doesn't look good."

"Indeed it does not," Xander said after another, lengthy pause. "Laslow, I'd like you to scout ahead. Peri and I will return and bring the others."

Inigo felt his breath catch faintly, but he caught it before his expression reflected his feelings. Smiling broadly, he executed a bow from the saddle. "Of course, milord."

"Good. If you run into any trouble, return at once. I don't need any heroes, today."

Maybe he didn't, but the people of Xi'Dan sure looked like they might need one. He nudged his mount towards the town as Xander and Peri turned back towards their main forces. The mare didn't really want to approach—even for a trained war mount, that smell was a lot to handle—but with some gentle coaxing she walked cautiously forward.

The closer he got, the worse it got. Charred wood was a smell he could handle, but that wasn't the only thing. No, once he got close enough the smell of burned flesh and hair quickly overpowered anything else in Inigo's senses. He fought back a gag and made himself dismount. It wasn't like this was something new, or anything.

Pausing, he pulled out an old blanket a tore a strip off it. Soaking it from his canteen, he tied it over his nose and mouth. It didn't really help. He made himself move forward, however, banishing horrible images from his past as he walked the narrow streets of the village. Now was not the time.

In fact, never was the only appropriate time to think of the dead world. Yeah. That was it. Never.

The town was a total ruin. No structure had entirely escaped damage, and many had been burned down to the hollow shell of their foundations. Here, he passed a leather shoe that hadn't quite been caught in the blaze, and there the wooden face of a tiny doll poking out from beneath a collapsed beam. He recoiled from thoughts of its owner.

He finally found the residents in what probably acted as the village square. It was a wide expanse of green, bordered by what had once been a neat stand of trees, though most were now burned and dead. A wooden platform dominated the centre of the green. Inigo was pretty sure the gallows probably hadn't been there earlier.

As he stared at the pile of burned bodies in front of the platform, Inigo silently wished he hadn't found them at all.

He held his ground, staring blankly ahead. The scene before him was oh-so painfully familiar. He didn't even need to close his eyes to imagine it. Sky darkened by smoke, death and destruction before his eyes, air greasy and hot against his skin and tongue. And the smell. Like overdone meat and a bonfire badly out of control. There was nothing else in the world quite like it.

No, there was no need to imagine the horror when it was right in front of him...

"Too late for another," Lucina said, her voice hoarse and somehow empty.

"...it feels like we're always too late," Brady said softly from beside her. "Why are we always too late?"

Inigo agreed. Squeezing his eyes shut, he turned away from the destroyed village. Bodies lined the street, blood pooling in the gutters. This was a fresh slaughter; decay had yet to set in.

"We need to burn them before they join the ranks of our enemies." Laurent, ever the practical one.

"That...that's horrible," Yarne said softly.

"But he's right," Severa muttered. "We have enough damn Risen to fight as it is, thanks."

"She knows that, Sev," Owain muttered. "We all do."

"Then why are we wasting time?" Severa snapped back. "Let's get it over with and move on."

"There might be survivors," Inigo said, softly but firmly.

"Oh lay off, Inigo, there are never survivors. We don't have time to waste on a fool's errand!" Severa growled.

"Inigo is right," Lucina said sharply. "We cannot burn a village without checking."

Severa threw her hands up. "Whatever you say. You're the princess."

Owain sighed and squeezed his cousin's shoulder as Severa stormed off. "She's just stressed."

"We all are," Inigo agreed. Then he sighed. He was tired and his head was pounding, and the village was starting to smell, and...

"I will go check for survivors," Lucina said, cutting off his thoughts.

"I'll come with you, Luci," Inigo volunteered, plastering on a smile. In Naga's name, it was hard. "Can't let any—" his voice broke, and his shoulders sagged. "Let's just go."

It was so, so hard to smile. Thankfully, nobody pressed the issue.

There were no survivors. Together, they piled the bodies, and Lucina recited a prayer as Laurent lit them ablaze. Inigo lost track of how many times they followed the same ritual, lost count of how many people they sent to their final rest, how many villages he saw destroyed. He lost track of it all.

But he never forgot the smell.

Inigo stared off into the distance, silent and still. It didn't matter where you were, war was war. Monsters, humans—what was even the difference? Was there a difference? Sometimes, he almost doubted it.

Or maybe it was simply the curse of the Fell Dragons.

A hand landed on his shoulder. Inigo snatched his belt knife and whirled, blade raised—and stopped dead, eyes wide. His hand shook, and the knife clattered to the soot-covered grass.

"M-my lord—" Xander stood behind him, back straight and looking unfazed beyond a faint widening of the eyes. His right hand was raised, clutching tightly to Inigo's wrist. "I...am sorry. You—I did not—"

"Are you with us again?" Xander asked slowly, voice even and calm. A rock in a stormy sea.

Inigo relaxed, dropping his head. "Yes, my lord."

"Good." Xander released his wrist. "Come with me."

Inigo fell in behind him, walking woodenly. Had he really tried to attack Xander? Dammit, he was better than that! The past had no hold on him, here! It was gone. Dead. It had never happened! It—

It was a core foundation of his person. He'd never be rid of it.

"Damn, you really screwed up there, hm?" Peri all but chirped at him. She made to knock on his head, but Inigo batted her hand away. "We were callin' for ya. Like ten times. You just stood there. Almost thought you were dead!"

Inigo quickened his pace. His mare had wandered a short distance away in his stupor, but he caught her easily. Swinging into the saddle, he smacked her rump with the reins.

"Laslow, wait—!" Xander's voice cut off quickly, muffled by the sound of thundering hooves. Inigo didn't glance back.

Owain and Severa caught up to him well outside the village. He almost missed their approach, face buried in his horse's mane as he breathed deeply of her scent. Here, upwind of the village, he could almost forget the horrors he'd left behind him. Thankfully, his friends understood his need for distance without needing to be told. They settled on the grass without a word, waiting for him to come to them.

He did, after the tears had dried up. Releasing the horse, he staggered over and dropped into the Inigo-sized space they'd left between them. He leaned into Severa, and in turn, Owain leaned into him.

"Past is a bad place, huh?" Severa asked softly.

"I...don't want to talk about it," Inigo said.

Owain sighed. "Here's where I'd normally say or do something dumb, but I don't think that'd really work on you anymore."

"...I'd never shun your jokes, Odin," Inigo said with a weak smile. "They're proof we're still alive."

Severa groaned.

"In that case, I, Odin Dark, shall rise up and vanquish the darkness of the past and present! Prepare yourself, vile beast! I will smite thee!"

"Gonna fight yourself there, Odin Dark?" Severa asked wryly.

"If that is what it will take to bring a smile back to Laslow's face, then it will be the noblest of sacrifices!"

"Well, let me know when the duel is taking place. Laslow and I are bringing popcorn."

"The day after tomorrow, at high noon!"

"Try high midnight. Hard to fight the dark in full daylight."

"Uh—" Owain floundered,

Inigo snorted a laugh. They never failed him.

Silence fell after that, but this time it was less tense. The quiet made it that much easier to hear the approaching footfalls, even with the grass muffling the sound. Xander, or Inigo would eat his boots.

"Odin, Selena, may I have a moment with my retainer?"

In perhaps the gutsiest move Inigo had ever seen, Severa jumped up, putting herself bodily between Inigo and Xander. "Depends what you want from him."

Inigo stood, much more slowly, and helped Owain—who was complaining about tingly feet—up. "It's fine, Selena. Thanks for checking on me."

Still she hesitated, that same loyalty she got from her parents rearing its passionate head. He shooed her away. "Go. I'll see you later."

"Come on, Selena," Owain said. His words were light and easy, but there was something else under them. A hint of a hint of an order. "I'm starving. I hope there's something to eat..."

She went at last, walking alongside Owain. At first glance, she seemed relaxed, but at second glance...

Ostensibly, they were the retainers of the Nohrian royalty. In actuality...well, Inigo pitied anyone or anything that threatened Owain. Old habits died hard, and he was their prince. For a long time, they had had Lucina, Morgan, and Owain...then Morgan had vanished and—and he was getting distracted. None of that mattered, now.

He turned to Xander, head bowed. "I...apologise for my behaviour. That was completely inappropriate of me—"

His words were cut off by Xander's hands landing hard on his shoulders. "Laslow, look at me."

Taking a deep breath, Inigo plastered on a broad smile and looked up. "Yes, milord?"

For a moment, a look of...something completely indecipherable flashed across Xander's eyes. It was gone as quickly as it came. "Are you well?"

Inigo's smile broadened, and he forced it to reach his eyes. "Of course, of course. I'm completely unharmed, and I even got the afternoon off. I've never been better."

"I don't mean physically."

Inigo let the words wash right off him. He laughed. "I mean, that wasn't fun to find, I'll admit, but that's why we fight, right? To stop things like that. Reminds me what a noble cause it is."

"A noble calling does not bring back the dead."

Inigo's small wavered. No, there was only one way he'd ever found to do that, and it was an unreliable method, at best. "Indeed it does not, but if one life is saved, we have succeeded, have we not?"

"...I suppose that is one way of looking at it."

"Then that is how I shall look at it!" He forced a dazzling smile.

"Laslow—" Xander's jaw tightened noticeably, before he forced it to relax. "Very well. Let us return to camp."

Inigo bowed his head. "Of course, milord." He could only hope this conversation was over.

Selena woke to the faint sounds of voices outside her tent. Rising swiftly, she paused only to pull on a jacket and grab her sword, before ducking out. The first thing to catch her attention was the stench of decay and burned wood that slammed into her nostrils. The wind had shifted overnight, bringing the smell from the village to the campsite. Tugging up her shirt, she held it over her nose and cast about for the voices.

Two sentries, now well passed her tent, were speaking in hushed tones as they made their way to...Xander's tent? Confused, she stepped up, following them openly. Sure enough, they stopped at Xander's tent, and Selena sped up, almost jogging the last few metres.

"—yes, Highness. I'm certain. It's Laslow."

Selena felt her heart sink. He hadn't been right all evening, and Laslow was—shit he was so sensitive. Just like his mother. It was one of his most endearing qualities, but it also meant that he needed to be watched over. That was where she came in.

"What about Laslow?" she demanded.

The two guards turned sharply to look at her, and at this point, Xander also stepped out. He eyed her for a moment, before shaking his head. "He was spotted running towards the village—"

Selena didn't stop to hear the rest. She bolted, heading deeper into the camp. Nobody called after her, for which she was grateful. She had more important things to deal with than disgruntled royals.

Her only detour was a quick stop at Odin's tent. Whacking the canvas, she yelled in, "Odin! Get up and come with me."

To his credit, Odin didn't waste time with questions. He emerged only a moment later, swathed in a heavy cloak. She didn't stop to explain, only turned and jogged off towards the burned village, Odin in tow.

"What happened?"

"Sentries saw...saw Laslow slinking off to the village," she forced out between breaths. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"...where do you think he is?"

"With the villagers." They had buried them in the village square, but Laslow wouldn't know that, yet. He would soon, though.

They didn't speak more, each wrapped up in their own thoughts. They made it to Xi'Dan quickly, and it did not take much longer to to get to the village square. The first thing to catch her attention was a dark figure, standing alone and still on the raised dais where the gallows had been set up.

Selena's heart sank, and then leapt back up in a panic at the scene. He was not simply standing on the dais, he...he was—

"Sh-shit," Odin hissed. "Laslow!"

Selena was moving to run over when a tight grip landed on her upper arm. With a shriek, she grabbed at her sword hilt, turning—

"Selena!"

She stopped, snorting out a deep breath and scowling as she wrenched her arm free. "Xander."

"...what's he doing?" Xander asked, attention wholly on Laslow. Selena couldn't blame him, there.

"What's it look like?" she snapped, pressing forward again. "He's trying to kill himself!" Not again. They were passed this! They were—

"Laslow, please, come down!" Odin was begging.

From his spot atop a wooden crate, noose from the gallows around his neck, Laslow gaze down at them. He looked...confused. Frightened, even.

"Who..."

He was talking. Selena pressed forward, slowly approaching. "C'mon, Laslow, get down from there and let's talk."

He gazed at her, at them, in confusion. And he made no move to remove the rope. "I don't...I d-don't..."

Inigo was so sweet. He had so much love to give. Selena felt her heart clench at the pained confusion on his face. This wasn't his first suicide attempt—shit most of them had at some point—but it had been...years. For all of them. She had hoped to never see this again.

"The hell's goin' on?"

Severa whirled, panicked. "Get out of here!" she yelled at Peri, who had just arrived. Leo and Niles had also ridden up, she noted. "All of you!"

"Selena..." Odin said.

"They aren't helping!"

Xander frowned, but then, blessedly, he turned. Catching his brother's eyes, he nodded once. With some reluctance, the three began to draw back to respectable distance. Xander, however, did not go.

"Don't, Selena. I am staying," he said. Releasing his horse, Xander walked forward slowly. "Laslow..."

This time, Laslow reacted, taking a half step back. "S-stop."

Selena darted forward, grabbing Xander's arm to stop him. "Wait!" she hissed. "Be reasonable. He...he doesn't know you."

"Doesn't—Selena, do not be absurd. He..."

"She's right," Odin said sharply, shoulders squared. "You don't belong where he is right now. Selena..."

She scowled, then nodded once. It would be much better if Xander would fuck off, but they didn't have time to play around with Laslow a half-step from death.

Odin started forward again, speaking gently. "Inigo, come on, man, take that thing off and let's talk."

"...O-Owain?"

"Yeah, it's me. And I need you to get down from there."

Inigo's gaze flickered between them, then landed on Selena. "Sev?"

"Yeah. Now get the fuck off that thing and come talk to us."

"I-I can't...do this..."

"Yeah, you can! We all can, because...because if we don't nobody will! You want our parents' deaths to be for nothing?"

"But—"

"No. Buts. You do this, we're all gonna follow. You know that, I know that, Owain knows that." She'd never said that out loud before, nobody had, but they all knew it to be true. In fact, it was the only thing that had kept them all from killing themselves back...back then. Nobody wanted to be the first. Nobody wanted to start the chain reaction that would have left Lucina alone against the world.

With shaking hands, he slowly reached up and removed the rope.

"Good, now come here, Inigo," Owain coaxed gently. "We have enough demons to fight, our own gotta wait a bit longer."

The moment he jumped off the crate, the two of them hopped onto the dais and grabbed him in a tight hug. "Don't ever do that again," Selena growled.

"Sev..."

"No sweet talk, Inigo," she snapped. "We've dealt with enough shit. Enough death. You gotta hold it together."

"I..."

"Especially since that's all over," Odin agreed.

"...over?"

"What timeline are we in, Inigo?" Selena demanded.

"Timeline? We..."

"Where's your mom?"

"She's...she's dead..."

"Yes, and where else is she?"

This time, he hesitated, clearly thinking hard. "She's...at...at home. With...the baby..."

"Right," she said, nodding. "So, what timeline?"

"...Naga. We...we got..." he sighed, shoulders sagging. "Okay. I remember. Sorry, Severa—er, Selena? And, um...Odin."

"Don't worry about it," Odin said, clapping his shoulder. "We all have weaknesses."

"...and...Lord Xander..."

Selena bit back a sigh. Yeah, he'd heard all of that, huh?

"I won't ask at this time," Xander said at length. "Just promise me this is over...Laslow."

Laslow clenched his fists. "I...wish I could, but sometimes the nightmares..."

"We've got him," Selena said sharply. "We'll always have him. That'll have to be good enough."

Xander met her gaze steadily. At length, he sighed and turned back to Laslow. "...very well. Your health is more important than anything. Just...will you tell me, someday?"

Laslow nodded immediately. "I promise, milord. As...as soon as I can, I'll tell you everything."

"Then that is good enough for me. Shall we head back?"

Selena groaned and turned away. "Yes, fuck. Please. Let's get out of here."

That, at least, was something they could all agree on. True to his word, Xander didn't mention anything, and did not seem to breathe a word to anyone. That was something they could all be grateful for.