Chapter Six: A Singularity of Light

Word Count: 3,000 (Longest one yet!)

Focused Characters/Pairings: (Tharja x Libra), Noire

Summary: He was the light and Tharja was attracted like a fly.

The bishop panicked. No one seemed to notice the thick haze that filled the church. The smoke shrouded the stained windows of Naga along the upper walls, preventing sunlight from seeping in. The statues of priests and priestesses looked like shadowed figures waiting to strike. Despite his complaints the Shepards requested him to go on.

Convincing the bishop was easy. Persuading Tharja to let the clergyman preside the ceremony was the hard part. She said he looked shifty (while within earshot of the concerned). In the end Tharja reluctantly agreed out of necessity. Their usual person was unavailable.

With that no one had the heart- or courage to refuse Tharja anything else. So they watched as she drew symbols and lit tall candles on the altar. She left a small place for the bishop's sacred water but it was a small kindness he couldn't recognize. The "Grima" decorations were too distracting.

Tharja sat in the back pew with Noire clutching her arm.

"Noire don't disrupt me with your sniveling."

"S-sorry mother."

"And try to send your father off without snot on your face."

"Yes mother." But every time Noire looked up and saw the coffin, her will crumbled. She tried to hide her crying with Tharja's cloak.

Tharja tried not to roll her eyes. Being compassionate and understanding was hard. She wasn't the affectionate type; that was her husband. If it were anyone else she would've hexed the arm off. The numbness was a slight distraction and so was the bishop's speech (all she heard was blah blah blah). Yet she continued her chants for a parting gift, she just needed the priest to finish.

As he closed his prayer book Tharja slithered up the aisle.

"It's harmless… really."

"Even if you are his wife…" The bishop looked at the corpse and back at Tharja, cocking his eyebrow. This was the first funeral he led for a Shepard (quite the honor). With how the world was now this wasn't unexpected. It was only a matter of time till the next one died-their missions were always suicidal. They needed to see he was capable for their services. So he wasn't going to allow a Plegian sorceress to desecrate the funeral with dark magic. Although on second thought, why was he worried? This role was practically his.

After all he was servicing his predecessor.

"Let her." A voice came from the aisle.

"Lady Lissa!" He bowed quickly.

"You heard the new Exalt… You gonna disobey her?" Without waiting for a response Tharja walked past him, snatching the chalice of sacred water out of his grip. She didn't bother with the clergy; with one exception. She rummaged her cloak for a vial and poured it into the chalice. The two liquids swirled together to form a thicker bluer substance.

Libra looked like he was sleeping. She wanted to slap him awake.

Instead she dipped her thumb into the chalice and drew two parallel lines crossing a circle onto her husband's forehead. It would protect Libra on his journey, to where? Who knew? She usually zoned out when he spoke about spiritual stuff. All she really cared about was that he went somewhere she could finagle her way in later.

When she pulled the blade from her armlet, the priest almost fainted.

"Oh give me a break." She muttered. She stroked Libra's face gently, letting the blade almost touch his skin. Despite the distance there was no protest. Of course there wasn't. Yet Tharja wished for something-pain, tears, or whimpers… She just wanted a response. Disappointed she stroked his hair, took a sizable amount in her hand and cut it off.

She turned to the priest.

"If you remove this seal I'll come back to deal with you." She cackled, yet the priest's horrified face did nothing to lighten her mood. The priest nodded quickly and walked away, perhaps to burn the tainted chalice.

It's not right to tease people so Tharja.

Even in death her husband still chided her. He was never afraid to do so. Unlike his shaky bishop friend, he embraced her taboo talents. Libra understood, others ran away.

"Thanks." Tharja turned to face Lissa, who was slightly amused. It was… nice having the Shepards around. They accepted her too.

"Libra serviced the other Shepard funerals…" Lissa said while unconsciously twirling her only ring. "The least I can do is this. If you or Noire need anything…"

"I got it."

"… I'm really sorry Tharja."

"Yeah I guess I am too. Can I go?"

"You don't need my permission." Lissa giggled, although the usual mirth in her eyes was missing. Ever since she ascended the throne that seemed to be the case, a side effect from sending friends on suicide missions.

"No. I got what I needed. Besides…." She trailed off looking to the coffin.

'Even in death you can't escape me.'

"Noire! Come!" Noire raced to her mother's study. This was the first time she heard her in days.

When the door didn't open completely she squeezed through. It turned out open books blocked proper entry. As Tharja paced about the pages fluttered. Half the vials along the walls were bubbling at the rim. To her left something was distilling. To her right a crystal ball showed swirling purple mist. The air was filled with aromas. Noire recognized pond water, butterfly scales, and an unfamiliar scent.

"Mother?"

"I need your hand."

Noire began to sniffle as she removed her glove.

"Oh hush, you know it doesn't hurt." She walked to the fireplace, removing a blade from the boiling cauldron. "This is important. It's for your father."

"Really?"

"Yes. I'm going to summon him. He's got a lot to answer for."

"O-okay."

"Hold onto your talisman."

Noire didn't even flinch as she saw her blood drip into a vial.

"It really didn't hurt!"

"See? You've gotten used to it. Consider it a rite of passage."

"So that means you'll teach me right? I can stay and help you call father?"

Tharja paused. It was the first time she saw Noire recently, longer since seeing her smile.

'She certainly would be very useful…'

Remember what you said, to leave Noire out of these dangerous hexes?

Tharja looked toward her daughter… There was so much untapped potential, power she envied herself.

"No. You've helped enough." She looked at the vial. This would suffice.

"But I want to see father!"

"And you will… In time. If you want to help go take some of the children and gather newts by the river."

"W-will you eat with us tonight? Everyone's worried. You haven't stopped working since the funeral."

"Now, Noire. And take your bow." Libra did place protective barriers around the orphanage, but nothing felt safe anymore.

You should really go talk to the other children. They miss you.

'Shut up. They can handle themselves.'

"Will you at least eat dinner with us? Or should I leave the tray out?"

When Tharja didn't respond Noire found her answer.

Tharja didn't touch the tray of food by the door. There was too much to do to consider eating. Sleep was also out of the question. The large empty bed wasn't appealing anyways. And what kind of sorceress would she be without bags under her eyes?

Her parents would be ashamed. Well even more so after finding out Libra was a priest. But that was fine. She wasn't looking for approval. Right now her family was probably laughing at her for becoming a widow. But that wasn't important.

It was hard working that night. The steps that were normally so systematic in her head were scrambled with memories. At times she would do a step twice, or skip one completely.

Perhaps this calls for a break? I won't go anywhere.

Tharja felt her mind teetering, dipping and rising in dangerous swings. If she allowed herself she could let go. To sink into dark abyss and join those who craved power. If she did, just maybe she could get the power to reunite their family's flesh permanently…

"No." She slapped herself. Those were dangerous thoughts; no one was capable of honing such power. Whatever reason, wealth, revenge, or love everyone ended up the same way: dead or worse. The Grimleal fanatics were good examples. They weren't able to convince her to join, though they did recruit her cousin. That was fine, she never liked him anyways.

With her mind tiring Tharja's pace slowed. Soon her legs guided her to a chair. Her arms reached out to a shelf, grabbing a vial containing Libra's locks. His scent still lingered. Perhaps there was a way to recreate it. She could use the remaining strands; she already used what was needed for the summoning.

Did she take too much? He wasn't going to need it anyways…

"I'm going to hex all your hair off. You shouldn't have silkier hair than me." Tharja said into Libra's chest. She twirled their hair together with her finger, creating a swirl of light and dark. The rest was loosely tangled with each other, spread over covers and bare bodies.

"I highly doubt that." Libra ran his hand through her hair, root to tip as it curved with Tharja's body.

"And I'll curse you to me."

"Alright." For such a dangerous threat he remained calm. He reached out to kiss her temple, her forehead, her shoulder… whatever skin he laid eyes on.

"You don't even know what that means. You're perhaps the best guinea pig I've captured." Her laughter reverberated in his chest.

"For you Tharja, I'll agree to anything."

"You always say that."

"I always mean it." Those suffocating sweet words again-she hated hearing them during their courtship. Now? Perhaps over time his sincerity dulled her heart, cutting straight to her ventricles. Those words burrowed and nested in her heart, emanating warmth. She could feel it now it spread to her cheeks.

"Do I?" She asked. Was he right? He always was. Tharja never knew when it came to love. She could only name her symptoms for Libra to diagnose. "With consideration maaaaybe I would put you ahead of Robin, but only by a rat's tail."

"I'd even settle for a beetle wing. I love you too Tharja." Those words again, drenched with good and light. She always tried to avoid them. However he always managed to appear in front of her. Perhaps there was a reason the two were recruited into the Shepards at the same battle. His light counteracted her darkness, creating a balance. Initially she thought they were opposites but that was a crude comparison.

Tharja thought she was the manifestation of moonless nights. Libra was the sun, the day she chased after. They were separate entities, destined to circle follow one another. She couldn't believe he harbored such evil within, but it secretly made her happy. It was a similarity, a connection. Yet she wondered: how could there be a shadow within his radiance?

Libra became an enigma-much more than a simple priest. Through his gentle words Tharja began to understand, Libra was the dawn. His happiness and sadness drew from each other. He embodied the coexistence of light and dark. It made her think maybe deep down there was light within her as well.

"I do see Naga's grace within you."

"What hex did you use to read my mind?"

"No hex, just a husband's intuition… Do you know when you're in thought you scrunch your eyebrows? It's very alluring." He hummed into her hair.

"That's your fetish?" She said, grinning mischievously. She reached out to trace his eyebrows, continuing down to the sides of his cheek and then to tip his chin-or rather dip it so they made eye contact. "I wouldn't expect that from a priest."

"Love, everything about you has me enraptured."

Tharja jolted awake. The moon was still out… She looked around her and sighed in relief, the distiller wasn't finished and nothing had blown up. Strangely the door was ajar… and slightly shaking.

"Show yourself Noire."

Timidly Noire revealed herself, expecting punishment.

"I-I couldn't sleep." Unlike the other children clutching a stuffed animal, Noire held her talisman close to her heart.

"Come." Tharja gestured for Noire to come near. Upon arm's length she pulled her daughter onto her lap. She was still small enough so the weight wasn't uncomfortable. Noire took advantage of the rare sign of affection, wrapping her arms around her mother's neck and hugging her tight. The tears started to fall on their own.

"I know. It sucks." Tharja sighed, stroking Noire's hair, it was a wonderful shade. Patiently Tharja waited until Noire calmed down. Strangely she didn't feel bothered.

"You said I couldn't, but I still want to help."

"I'll let you."

"Really?"

"Yes." Tharja got up and put Noire back onto the chair. "Sit there."

"I can't brew anything? Mix stuff? This seems kind of useless."

"Trust me." Tharja looked at her daughter. Seeing her daughter's face, hearing her voice brought reason and clarity back to her mind. "You're helping more than you could ever imagine."

Night was almost over but Tharja finished. Noire was giddy as she watched her mother draw a symbol on the ground. The lines began to glow, obscuring her vision slightly.

"Come out Libra, it's the least you can do." Tharja said, completing the last stroke.

This wasn't going to be a conjuring within the mind like Gregor's. This was something much more powerful, complicated, and dangerous.

Perhaps Tharja missed it, but with a blink Libra appeared in front of them. He looked tangible, solid, although a bit shimmery. He didn't even look dead, except for the symbol on his forehead.

"Father!" Noire wanted to run and hug him but stopped. She would only ruin the symbol on the ground.

"It's good to see you Noire." Libra smiled. "How are the other children?"

"Sad. We all miss you."

"Bout time." Tharja huffed, looking disinterested.

"You too dear."

"Yeah, yeah. See all this work I've gone through to summon you?"

"I'm touched you did all this for me. I'm blessed to have such a wonderful wife and daughter."

"Where was that blessing when you got yourself killed?" Tharja said bitterly. Wasn't Naga supposed to help her believers?

"Our fates are our own, Naga can only guide us to the path."

"So you sacrificed yourself?"

"To save that town, yes."

"Even if it meant leaving your family? You shouldn't have bothered me with marriage, or built this stupid orphanage." Everything sounded so wrong, but the words came to easily to Tharja.

Libra wasn't upset. He couldn't be at her.

"Ylisse called for me."

"Doesn't mean you have to answer." Yet Tharja knew she said the impossible. If the Shepards needed her, she would've done the same. All her words came from anger, from her twisted logic. They weren't the words she wanted to say.

Libra's form began to shimmer in and out of vision. Tharja looked for the concoction she just finished.

"Father?!"

"It's alright Noire. There's still time."

"I'm going to curse you, to tie your spirit with us. That's why I summoned you." Tharja said, showing a vial with bright red liquid inside.

"Did you prick Noire again?" Libra sighed.

"It's alright father! It didn't even hurt."

"Pain is the least of my concerns dear."

Noire smiled.

"I wouldn't have to do this you didn't die." Tharja spat. "I'm going to do it. To make you stay."

She removed the cork, ready to encircle Libra with the blood curse.

Libra looked unalarmed.

"Damn it you always have that smug look on your face. I'm really going to do it. It's why I summoned you."

"That isn't why." Libra said with a smile. Although Tharja's methods were unconventional, they certainly did not lack sentiment. Even if she didn't show it, he knew. Contrary to belief, Tharja was very loyal. She accepted him whole-heartedly. It was a comfort and security Libra never knew as a child.

"Then why?"

"To say goodbye." When Libra died Lissa came to her personally, perhaps out of guilt. She explained how Libra stayed until every citizen evacuated. He fought his way to the injured and saved many lives. He was a hero.

None of that meant anything to her. Libra was dead.

"Fuck you." Tharja threw the vial on the ground, rendering it useless. He was always fucking right.

This time the shimmering didn't stop. He walked to the edge of the symbol he stood on, reaching out towards his family.

Noire started to cry.

"Oh Noire, please don't cry. I'll be watching you. Be strong for your mother and the other children, alright?"

Noire nodded. Libra kissed her on the forehead. He turned to Tharja.

"I'm sorry to leave you so dear."

Tharja stood silently. She was tryng to understand the mixture of emotions running through her. They were all so painful: anger, remorse, love…

"You make me fall for you, jumble up my feelings and then leave?"

"I'm sorry Tharja." Libra said with a tear. He was truly a horrible husband. Yet he smiled, he was grateful even for this moment. "I'm quite the heartbreaker aren't I?"

"You're stupid. And I'm stupid for marrying you." Those weren't the words she wanted to use.

"I love you Tharja."

He reached to kiss her. Tharja felt a slight pressure.

"I love you too Libra…." Tharja said with a blush. Libra smiled, a bit surprised. Tharja always managed to surprise him. His form became harder and harder to recognize. Soon the lines faded and charred up, leaving black dust all over the ground.

As empty as she felt, Tharja looked at Noire who was trying hard not to cry.

"Let's get you to bed." Tharja took her by the hand and tucked in her daughter. That night Noire never slept, she watched wide-eyed while babbling nonsense. It kept Tharja up.

Without bothering to change Tharja laid in bed. She stretched her arms, trying to fill the empty space. It pained her realizing the void would always remain. Soon, for a while she could forget about that. Her body was too tired to refuse sleep now.

And as she began to drift off she watched the sunrise outside her window.

A/N: Fun fact for the person who requested this pairing, this was halfway done by the time your review went up. Spooky.

For those who wanted Robin x Olivia, that may take a while-it won't be the next one but I'll keep it in consideration. I'm still working it out in my head.

Finally I don't want to put this in every chapter (It's redundant and I always mean it) but with increase of activity I've seen for this I had to: thank you all for reading! :D