At some point, Sully steps things up.

Namely, when they're preparing for a battle at the base of an expansive tree Chon'sin Princess Say'ri claims to lead to the Divine Voice Tiki, a concept that has piqued Libra's interest. He hasn't said it vocally, but for the first time in them knowing each other, Libra's body language is very obvious. Besides, he's religious and all that. This is probably a dream come true for him.

Meanwhile, it's just another battle for Sully.

She isn't sure what provoked her to give a piece of herself away. Maybe it was the ease of it all- even her friends who haven't witnessed it tend to know. Maybe it was because the winds of change blew through camp and left everything in a rather welcome form of disarray. Maybe it's because the closer they approached the tree and Tiki, the more Sully feared their paths diverging, and she wasn't very keen on losing Libra.

He still felt damn near unreal as it was. If he left Sully was gonna question if he ever existed.

"This sword's killing me," she leads as they get into position with the rest of the Shepherds fighting this battle. Libra holds a bolt ax in his hand with finesse, some of his locks reaching the head. Robin's paired them off as fighters at damn near every battle since the Valmese inquisition started, and every time they get into formation together she thinks that he's gonna singe his hair one of these days if he's not careful.

Sully reckons that he must notice the awkward, amateur way she holds her sword. She damn sure can fight with it, but idly holding the damn thing is another. It feels invasive against her muscle and skin. Like it's giving her the finger just by being there, and to be honest, it may as well be.

"Are you unused to it?" He asks.

She smiles. Damn, he's really stepped up efforts to continue conversation lately. "Yeah, guess you could say that. Haven't been a swords fighter for long, just through the whole Valm thing. But we were lacking at that particular part of what Robin calls 'The Weapon Triangle'. And I guess..."

She swallows. Okay, she didn't expect that. She never gets emotional and this is not the time to start bawling, so she lamely finishes "I guess things being what they were, I was probably the easiest pick for the job."

She's satisfied that she gave an answer that most average people would be okay with until she remembers that Libra is not an average person by any means. "Do you… need anything?" he asks.

Sully's surprised at how much she would like to cry in a heap on the ground, but she doesn't need anything except apparently to blurt "Agh, sorry, this…" and groan to the skies. Of all the ways this conversation could have gone, her getting emotional wasn't what she expected.

"Quite all right," Libra responds. "We can change the subject if need be."

Or I could quit being a little bitch about it, she thinks. With impressive restraint, she says "Nah, it's okay. Uhm, I used to be a cavalier with my horse Alm. During the Plegia war, til…" Til let's not go into specifics. "About halfway through, I'd say. We'd bust some arses in battle with ease. So being on my own two feet, it's damn sure daunting."

Libra nods with empathy that silently grieves. After a few seconds "May I ask what happened to Alm?"

Sully sighs. Damn my life. No way she could lie her way out of this one, and though she went in wanting to be honest, she really regrets that decision now. "War happened," she says bitterly, the words a quiet, violent scrape in her throat.

He nods again, not losing that empathy. Looking up, Sully notices Chrom taking his place at the lead of the army next to the base of the tree, preparing to give orders. "Should probably pay attention," she says, a little too relieved that the conversation has to end.

"That would be for the best."

So they do, and part way through Chrom talking, Libra surprises her. Head down, he says "If it means anything, I don't plan to let war happen to me."

Oh wow. It means a lot, don't worry.

Regrettably, Sully blushes and misses whatever else Chrom was saying. Libra probably caught it though. He'll tell her before she even asks

She checks her heart before they leave since it's beating like a damn hummingbird. The only thing she can confirm is that he got to her.

Gods damn it.

There are a few things that Sully grows to learn about the Valm inquisition. She doesn't pay attention to many details, leaving those for the eggheads like Robin. She knew that Valm wanted to take over the world because the Valm leader was the most selfish bastard she could think of. She knew that they were aiding Chon'sin in the fight against Valm stealing their nation.

She also knew that the Captain's baby Lucina came back through some temporal bullshit and only spoke to her once on the boat. She was okay with that, but then Lucina deigned to apologize for the fact that they hadn't found her daughter.

A child is something Sully hadn't truly considered as an option before, but apparently, she had and would give birth to a woman named Kjelle, a brash knight that Lucina speaks of with as much beleaguered fondness as Sully expects a member of her family to be spoken of with. It made Kjelle feel more real, and that was probably the last thing Sully needed while in this war, so she stuffed it to the back of her mind so she didn't lose the whole damn thing.

Below the surface, she could vaguely remember things about the Fire Emblem, the gemstones they were to gather, and the ultimate goal of slaying Grima, as Lucina dictated to the group at large. The whole thing was suspicious and funky, but Sully didn't invest energy into decoding it. That was never her deal. Her deal was "point me in the direction of the enemy and I'll get to work on the stabbing thing." The less she worried about things, the better.

And then there's Libra.

Libra, the goody-two-shoes enigma of a priest who got to her.

Gods damn her eyes.

What about him got to her, she's hard-pressed to define. Maybe it's how he makes little gestures to lead her in. It's a slow pace, but ain't like she has anything better to do than to stab things and be his friend. Libra's so interesting with all his Libra-ness. It's like he's always falling off a cliff, but he's okay. That still unsettles her, but it's just how he is.

And maybe that's what got to her.

She remembers conversations with him because so little progress is made unless she counts it as relative to Libra, then he makes sure that there's just enough to keep her interested. There's just enough growth, just periodic enough to keep an upward trajectory. He's almost a little manipulative, but she came into their conversations like a tactician so maybe she just knows them when she sees them like she did when they first met.

She remembers when he admitted he didn't like to be touched- which sounded like he didn't plan a second of that interaction- and ever since then he's initiated touch every now and again. She was okay with him not being a touchy guy- even though she's generally very touchy-feely and is a little disappointed for some stupid reason- but now he's doing it more than she ever planned to. Whether they're little brushes of the palm when they transfer items or the occasional aimless hand on her forearm that leaves before she knows it's there, they're always initiated by him and they're so quick that the memory of them and the longing for more is all she has. Barely anything, but still enough.

Is she a little deeper in than she expected? Damn straight she is. She isn't proud of it, but she's not not proud of it. If anything, it's on him, because he is so damn good at giving her just enough to stay talking to him, so much so that she's feeling conned, like she's got a weaker personality than she thought she did. To most, she's a tough nut to crack and her defenses are always about three notches tighter than she means for them to be.

She didn't piece it together, but she's naturally like Libra in that she has a lot of people who are friendly at arm's length but don't bother building a deeper relationship with her. Yet, here he is, marching into her heart like he owns the damned place.

Takes one to know one, she supposes.

The way he thinks of her is not how he ever anticipated.

Libra has never been attracted to anyone in his life because that involves getting closer to people, and now that he is, the things he is learning about himself are startling in its frequency, like a rushing river chipping away at a dam.

Is it just her doing this to him, or is it also his doing? He hasn't the experience to say; blind faith is all he has. While some would casually say that's befitting of a man of the gods, Libra has confidence (if not a certainty) that the gods do care about their lives and hear their prayers. Here, he has nothing to hold onto. The cliff he is diving off of has no defined landing.

He knows that he's averse to touch, and as his feelings towards her grow, that doesn't change. Thinking of Sully as a sexual object feels… wrong, in a sense. At first, he wonders if he's simply holding her on a pedestal she would probably resent whether she returned his affections or not. Still, he cannot say that as a concept it has ever appealed to him.

He wonders if the perpetual burden of shame that has lain lifelong on his heart has hindered any carnal desires, or if his limited of desire for touch would have been a lifelong condition regardless of how he lived it. The two theories turn in his gut, intermittently acting as conclusions that he never permanently comes to, but cannot exist together in his eyes.

He's also surprised at how well he reads her. Perhaps, again, it's a Sully thing. She isn't complicated; in fact, she's almost intentionally easy to understand. She leaves a trail in front of his eyes and only moves when she knows he's seen it. At the same time, he finds himself paying attention to her far more than the others who he interacts with. They do not put in the effort, perhaps because they believe he isn't worth it. Not Sully. She does, and it scares him.

Her gruff habits to grow stronger reflect in the force she projects into every word, every footstep, every gesture. It's second nature, the type that has a history of being itself forced until it became natural. He's confident in this because there are moments around him where she speaks softly, smiles slightly, and lately returns his slight offerings of touch with small, gentle ones of her own. Maybe she does this to accommodate him, but it feels disarmingly free.

Perhaps the thing that has struck Libra the most has unraveled in his mind over time- her dedication and attention towards him. At first, he found it charming and quaint, how she would redirect her tasks into his path, but she didn't stop after the first time. Many people do. He's okay with that. Oftimes, he desires that. Sully doesn't, and perhaps unnervingly, he desires that she does not.

It is a joy to hear her speak even when she says nothing of note, because she is colorful not just in her language that most priests would balk at, but in delivery, enunciation, and how her words fall in exactly the right places. In the empty spaces of his mind, he remembers how she talks, the life in her words, the rushing kinetic energy in her steps- and when his mind gets emptier, his memories grow more intense, easier to hold onto.

Even still, the closer she feels, the more remorseful he gets. He has little to offer her; physical affection is difficult, his passion is a faith that she does not follow, and he will never be a good enough conversationalist. Beyond what he has shown her, however, is an unpleasant backstory that starts with the demon his parents think he had when they abandoned him and, to be quite truthful, is a demon he isn't sure he doesn't have.

No normal human would have a story like his.

At best, even if she desires his company with growing intensity- and him the same- that doesn't change the fact that he can only excel by his own low standards. Maybe he'll become more receptive to touch. Maybe he'll grow to be more active in their conversations. Maybe he'll even react to fit her needs when he reads the hidden intent in her words. But Sully is evocative. Sully has personality and damned is the fool who tries to restrain it to a more digestible product for the greedy consumer. Sully deserves better than him. Even if Sully wants a closeness with him, she deserves better than that.

Such consuming guilt Sully cannot read, as he is adept at masking his emotions. However, she notices one thing- as she tells him during a march through the hinterlands of Valm. (She always stays closest to him when they march as of late.)

"You're not talking much lately, you know that?"

Immediately he knows that the guilt is why.

He shrugs his shoulders. "I hadn't noticed," he says. "I sincerely apologize."

"Yeah, yeah," she responds. "You don't need to do that and all."

Despite her dismissive comments, Libra can tell that it's dismissive towards herself and her own emotions, and she will have none of him telling her otherwise. So he doesn't bother. Instead, he says "I'll put more effort into putting forth a conversation in the future."

"You don't have to worry about anything you're not comfortable with," she responds, but her tone gives away that it would be an undesirable outcome for her.

"It's an effort that I would be happy to put forth," he says because he can't pretend that it isn't a large effort on his behalf. "I…" Does he dare confess even a little? To do so terrifies him, but he cannot imagine a world where he does not that doesn't end in her eventually drifting away, and the idea sends intangible spasms of pain through his mind.

Besides, most damning of all, he trusts her.

He shouldn't trust people, but he trusts her.

"I have been trying to work on that recently."

She lights up. "Look at you, Libra!" Again, he's grateful for her usage of his name and not a distancing honorific or a far too casual nickname like many Shepherds give him. "The man I met, I think he'd drop gods-damn dead before talking to people. And here you are now, just zooming ahead."

He's surprised at the transparency of her response. He doesn't have the heart to tell her all the change he's shown has been for her eyes only. He does have the heart to warn her "It likely will be a challenge. Possibly…" He scratches the back of his neck and feels the scar on it. "Uncomfortable. I hope you understand this… and that I will try regardless."

She nods. "It's okay. Take it at your pace. You're still moving."

"I admit, I'd prefer it if the pace were faster."

She gently claps him on the back, close enough to him that it doesn't incapacitate him with shock. "Just get focused on moving, then try setting a pace."

He nods stiffly, unwilling to accept that proposition, the resignation to mediocrity. It falls quiet as Sully reluctantly accepts his unsaid response. He wants to apologize, but he cannot lie.

He realizes that their walk has slowed from the pace of the army. Judging by Sully's footsteps, it's unusual still for her to walk on foot even though he's only known her to. A few other fighters pass them, a shirtless blond with an ax mocking Sully in particular. She tells him to drop dead and turns back to Libra with a laugh. He's unused to displays of friendship that manifest in vitriol, but it works for them, at least. It reminds him of his guilt, that to befriend him she tries to hard to avoid what comes naturally with this man.

At least he's learning to be better for her.