Author's Notes: Ay es dee eff. Various things hijacked my brain -- Maple Story, Death Note, Final Fantasy Tactics Advance, Angel Sanctuary. And real life drama decided to kick in in the meantime, effectively smacking down the chance of this chapter getting completed without an insane wait. But, here it is, I suppose. (Believe it or not, a single scene delayed the completion of this chapter by nearly a month, due to laptop confiscation and general lack of inspiration. Go ahead and guess which one.)
Well, after this chapter, we'll stop with the "HEY CRAZY AUTHORESS WHAT IS GOING ON" and start with the plot moving forward, quickly. ... Well, in the past-arc, anyway. And it's going to be hell to write. ... But also fun... -:coddles:- I had started a word document to hold up random future scenes and plot points that struck me, and at the moment, it's... um... 3800 words. Sometimes it seems daunting, and other times it makes my ego all proud at how well plotted out I've finally made something. But, yeah, the beginning's all done with, and now we get the fun part. (If I get off my lazy arse.)
By the way, um, if I haven't made this apparent... Elincia, at the moment of the past-arc, is quite single. o.o Good? Good. Okaaay.
... Also, I do hope that I'm not the only one amused by the name of Crimea's capital? Melior, in Latin, literally means "better". XD (Not that it really applies to this chapter all that much... Or any chapter, for that matter.)
Disclaimer: Last time I checked, I'm still not rich, legal, or male. I'll get back to you if that changes.
Chapter Three – Recall
Ike is relieved that he can still feel its movements. It is alive, he confirmed, palms still sweaty and cooling from anxiety. "She moves a little less, though," he said, worried.
"It's alive. Perhaps you're imagining it."
Ike shook his head and shrugged. "I... don't know." He looked away. "I wish that you wouldn't call her 'it', though."
"We don't know that it's a female."
"Still, 'it'? Sounds sort of... dementing, I guess? Whatever the word is."
"Demeaning," I corrected. "Dementing has quite a different definition."
Ike nodded in agreement. "Demeaning."
"It so happens that most people do see children such as yours in an inferior light."
"Soren..." he sighed, "not this again. I've already went over this subject with you." He wearily raked a hand through his hair. "Honestly, Soren, I know why you'd be" -- he vaguely gestured -- "upset, but..." he looked at me and was at a loss of words. They were not required; I knew what he was attempting to express anyway: 'Soren, I'm trying to mince words and stay on your good side because we've known each other for so long, but I really don't want your negativity in this whole ordeal. Or in this relationship, for this matter. In fact, I have such a different life now that you, quite frankly, don't know me, and I could care less about your opinion. So please, let me be an optimist and enjoy my young life.'
I ignored him quietly in response to his silent lecture.
"Soren?"
"Mmhmm?"
"We're... still friends, aren't we?"
I shrugged, unsure. But what was a white lie for the sake of keeping him near me?"... Certainly."
Soren eyed him in disbelief. "You're lying."
"I'm not," the other replied, quite comfortable on his spot in Soren's favorite chair, which he had hijacked as Soren froze to his spot in front of his records. Why let a perfectly comfortable chair go to waste? "Someone as smart as you certainly knows my motivations, hmm?"
Soren continued to look at him suspiciously. "... Money? Is that the case anymore?" He remembered vaguely that Naesala had mentioned his excuse for his avarice -- for the furthering of his country. This information would very well serve that purpose.
"Still is, and will be for a while!" he said with a touch of lightness, obviously finding far more comedy in the scene than Soren did.
"I know what you s-- laguz think of the Branded," Soren replied testily. "I don't doubt that you would exploit this for Kilvas's benefit. Spread false rumors. Turn the advisory against the top."
Naesala looked amused. "So you would distrust Ike for his friendliness towards the laguz?"
"Friendliness?"
"I do suppose that may be an understatement. My mistake," he slurred.
"I disapprove of laguz and beorc relationships in that manner."
"You disapprove of laguz," Naesala observed. "So, what will become of your precious general then, hm?"
Soren stared emptily in thought for a moment. "None of your concern."
"Whether this meets the world's light or not is your decision," he said lazily, drawing circles with his finger on the armrest of the chair. "I could care less if..." Naesala lifted the hand up and turned the palm upwards, gesturing for the placement of some object into his palm, likely circular and shiny in construction, and in great numbers.
Soren gazed at Naesala's hand before turning away and looking at his desk instead. "I have no reason to believe you, and thus, nothing to bribe you for."
"Oh, no, they're plenty obvious enough. Go take a walk down the hall. You'll have all the evidence you'll ever need."
He had shooed Naesala out of his room in sheer annoyance, resolving not to ponder on this 'information' which he had gained. But he was distracted from the scroll he attempted to read, the words in the Ancient Language as cryptic as they were to him years and years before. Rolling it up and tucking it neatly into a vacant spot on his bookshelf, he stood and stretched, his knees stiff from sitting.
His hand paused over the doorknob. He attempted several times to open it, but couldn't, finding that he almost preferred uncertainty over knowing for a truth that Ike was with a sub-human.
Finally, he plunged his hand forth, violently opening the knob, shoving forth the door, and closing it behind him before he could regret it. He let out a puff of air and wandered down the hall.
He came not to the room where Naesala had spied; but again, he came to the uncomfortably large, bright window across from the dressing room. He stared at their figures, sunbathing happily together, enjoying the wind together. Soren fumbled with the strings for a moment, failing; then in anger, withdrew a knife from the folds of his cloak and slashed the ropes that held the curtains open. The curtains unfurled quickly in their heaviness. The hallway became completely dark.
It was too early in the day for this. She had woke up late, having just finished a quick lunch before quickly trying to gather the materials for the conference. She silently swore to herself that she would never sleep with the curtains down again.
Elincia fumbled with the collar of her dress, reciting the news over and over in her head, in an attempt to find a suitable form of its presentation. Laguz acceptance... no, no, we've already slandered that phrase enough... Laguz are no longer sub-humans to... no! Of course not, that implies quite horribly that they've been thought of that way before! Although, I suppose that's true... She winced, sighing and wondering why it was so difficult to present even fortunate news in front of a cynic. Perhaps cynics were just intent on making nervous speakers miserable.
She turned around a corner and blanched at the irony. Soren was walking quickly down the hall, looking quite flustered.
He glanced at her. "Queen Elincia."
"Hello, Soren." She gave a nervous smile, hoping that her previous thoughts weren't transparent to him. He displayed no interest in Elincia's jittery movements, continuing to walk at a rapid pace. But while Soren was apathetic, she became curious. "Is there something wrong?"
"A miscalculation."
She wondered what there was to calculate during this peaceful time. "Miscalculation?"
Defensively, as if her retort were mocking his mistake, he muttered, "Yes, I was blinded by personal bias, there's nothing wrong with the logic itself."
Elincia watched him go down the hall and shook her head. Cynics. What a odd bunch they were.
"The statistics from various villages have shown that laguz employment is on the rise," she piped brightly. Elincia folded and unfolded her hands nervously, keeping on an optimistic smile. "So... surely everything isn't that bad?"
Lethe scowled while examining her fingernails. Mordecai smiled, however, and nodded in agreement. "The beorc of Crimea are good."
"They're appeasing you in front while plotting behind you," Lethe hissed, crossing her arms. Naesala let out a light string of laughter. She glared at him. "What's so amusing, King Kilvas?"
He waved a hand in the air in dismissal. "Nothing, nothing."
"I wouldn't be surprised if you had to do with all of this."
Elincia mentally sighed and, distracted, glanced towards the window. A squirrel retrieved an acorn near the window and gnawed at it. It froze as it noticed Elincia, and darted away. Elincia let her eyes run back to the developing hostility in front of her.
"Me?" Naesala appeared hurt, although it was difficult to determine whether or not he truly felt so. "My dealings with beorc certainly don't involve maiming my kind."
Lethe was unsatisfied with this answer and returned to pondering while her tail sulked behind her.
"Lethe," Mordecai started uncertainly, "why do you think that the beorc must be bad?"
"They're... they're..." Lethe struggled, "they're... humans. That's the way they are." She whirled on Naesala and snapped, "King Kilvas, do you know something?"
"Do I?" he asked innocently. "I don't recall."
"Please," Elincia attempted to interject, "let's hold a civilized debate..."
Lethe fumed, her ears drawn to the side and her tail whipping back and forth under the table. Mordecai gave her a sympathetic and somewhat confused look, uneasy in his seat. Elincia stared out of the window, where the sunlight was flooding in strongly. Cynics.
"I personally find this to be a wonderful development," Naesala remarked absentmindedly, rubbing circles on the table again.
Elincia looked away from the window and blinked several times, Lethe's irritated face spotted with dark reds and oranges in the shape of flowers.
"So," Lethe gritted out, "what is it that you think we're doing correctly?"
"I think the addition of tolerance into the curriculum helped," Elincia suggested softly.
"Employment is done by managers long out of any education system," Lethe snapped.
Elincia slid down into her seat sheepishly. "But... they have children who will talk to them, right?"
"Ah, Queen Elincia," Naesala chuckled with a sigh, "I must agree with Lethe. The education affects mainly the next generation, and even then, not a great deal. Between their dear parents and their temporary teachers, most choose to follow the advice of their parents." Lifting his finger from the table, he pondered and added, "Actually, this gain may be a direct result of laguz cooperation in the war." He gave a slightly conspiratorial grin in Lethe's direction. She scowled and looked the other way.
"Why are the figures beginning to climb so much higher now, though?" she wondered, having unrolled the scroll and examining its lines of neat script and charts.
"Here." Elincia glanced up and slid the scroll to Naesala, who observed it. He seemed to give a stifled laugh, glancing up at Elincia. "That would be because, Queen Elincia, the hurricane that passed by the northern end of Crimea a few months before left many buildings devastated. To rebuild them --"
"Oh," Elincia squeaked, utterly embarrassed. Lethe snickered audibly off to the side.
"Say, whatever happened to that uptight tactician of yours? Does he prepare this information?" Naesala asked, attempting to keep the mocking tone out of his voice.
"Soren? Ah, no, he has a dislike towards the subject, and I figured..." Elincia stopped, struck by the oddest feeling of deja vu.
Knock knock knock.
"What is it?" Soren muttered irritably, lifting his head from the desk. He hoped that he hadn't knocked over any ink in his unexpected nap.
The door creaked open slightly, and Elincia peered in, dangling a book. She was still slightly unnerved by the air of Soren's room, much like the last time she had visited. "I... asked everyone in the fort, and they all thought that this was yours." She held up a book rather pretentiously entitled, The Complete and Unabridged Chronology of the History of Begnion, 300 – 620.
"Yes, that would be mine," Soren grumbled, raking a hand through his bangs in an attempt to keep a semblance of order within his hair. He glanced at his hourglass. The top chamber was completely empty. Had he really slept through an entire hour, and more?
Elincia came closer to Soren, clutching the book with both hands. "Where should I put it?"
"Here." Soren gestured for Elincia to approach, and she did so hesitatingly. Having given Soren the book, she began to leave before remembering what she was planning to approach him later for, anyhow. Why not now?
"Soren?"
"Yes?"
Elincia blushed slightly from embarrassment at her memory of the conference before beginning, "Would you have time to analyze the conference materials for me? The ones that are left, that is."
"For the next week? All of it?" Soren blinked in disbelief.
"You don't have to do it right away," Elincia added hurriedly. "But it would help us if you added your thoughts of the consequences of each trend before the conference of the day." Soren continued to examine her, seeming to consider this.
"I should have time to."
"Oh thank y--"
"But it's not a matter of if I can help," he continued, somewhat irritated. "Isn't this a conference for the sake of your thoughts, Queen Crimea?"
Elincia flushed again. "Well... sometimes... I make mistakes..." She stopped, remembering their quick conversation from earlier.
"So long as they're corrected, they can be afforded here," he dismissed. "It's valuable experience for you."
She hesitated before beginning, "Soren?"
"There's already a conversation going, Queen Elincia," he muttered.
"Ah, sorry," she amended. She paused for a brief moment before venturing, "Earlier, when you made a miscalculation...?"
"Not of your concern."
Soren fingered the binding of the thick book. His rose to approach the bookcase on the side of his room, searching for the titles beginning with 'C' – or at least, he appeared to be interested in the books. Unwillingly, he wondered. He wondered if it really was of Elincia's concern – well, yes, it definitely was her concern, as she was clearly infatuated with Ike – and if he should tell her. When it boiled down to it, it wasn't a matter of should; the tactician knew that in all consideration, rank, familiarity, he should tell Elincia. Warn Elincia.
He found that he couldn't. Perhaps it was simply that he didn't wish to.
"I will take my leave," Elincia said softly, wondering if it was a good idea to interrupt him.
"Wait."
He cursed himself. Why, why why why did he say that, he didn't have a plan involving her, did he? He had no reason to go and keep her around--
Perhaps that was the moment when he realized the state of affairs. This meeting, and others, were awkward because of Ike. Even if unsaid, they both knew so. That single man held so much power over both of them, and yet they enjoyed his presence. Such a paradoxical thing, infatuations were.
So this would be it. Such a strange plan, so untested, and yet... He found himself unwilling to lie down and do nothing while Ike continued this, condemning his grandchildren, forgetting the lesson Soren had learned with his life. It is not jealousy, he attempted to convince himself. But he found himself slightly content as he spoke.
"Elincia, what do you think of Lethe?"
"... Forty-nine thousand, fifty-thousand." Soren poured the last bag of gold into the bulging sack, Naesala watching with glittering eyes. "As agreed, you shall not speak a word about this."
"Of course not," he replied, peering in the bag with a truly birdlike fascination. "So long as I don't go to Kilvas and, say, find a magic trap set on these?"
"They're clean," Soren said bluntly, rising to take a length of wire from the wall, eying Naesala warily. He wouldn't put it past the crow to attempt to sneak in more gold. Naesala was honest, however, only watching Soren's paranoia with amusement. Soren returned with the wire and abruptly and skillfully tied the opening of the bag, handing it to Naesala. "Leave."
"The fort? The meetings are hardly over," he slurred slyly.
Soren resisted the urge to twitch. Of course. Naesala had been invited here, and Naesala's order of business was primarily to partake in the meetings, not to spy on young couples making love in a closet. "Remain unobtrusive."
"If you didn't know about this," Naesala drawled, turning to leave with a grin towards the bag he held, "how would you plan to help them, hm?"
Soren paused. It was true that the information, however disastrous, was helpful. By the time that Ike – or, by some cruel twist, Lethe – should be able to break through denial to ask him, it might have been too late for him to help them... perhaps, even, conceal a child, however unlikely it may be. He kept down a growl in his throat, not wanting to admit that Naesala was correct.
"Exactly. You must know, as a tactician, that even unpleasant information is vital information." Naesala gave him a mocking smile and left.
Disturbing morning.
"I'm going to mother a Parentless! A Parentless!" Vomiting.
"But she's ours." Soothing.
"As ours as hell is! Even if the love is pure, this is... this is..." Hisses. Sobs.
Endnotes: And another het pairing emerges! Yay! (Pretty heavily implied in the previous chapter already, but whatever.)
And... no offense to cynics. XP I may very well be one, to an extent.
Actually... when I was nearly done with this chapter, I foresaw possibly having to write more Ike/Lethe scenes, so I got around to reading their supports. I actually find it very random.
Support C: Let's fight!
Support B: ... Okay, so maybe you're better than I thought. Let's fight!
Support A: You fight well. ... Say, will you come to Gallia with me? Yes? That makes me happy!
Amused, I read some other things from the script. Ike/Elincia can actually be rather sweet, although the supports don't give much more than the canon already does. It... just kind of elaborates on it.
I read some other things, too, but if I babble much longer, I might start accidentally dishing out spoilers.
... Hey, um, readers, instead of throwing rotten fruit at the authoress, how about you play guess-what-scene-kept-us-waiting instead? Please? -:hides:-