Disclaimer: I do not own any characters who appeared in Fire Emblem.
AN: Here it is. I was away for long cuz I am also writing the next piece of JTT. Sry for the wait.
-x-x-x-x-
Hermione
The world is full of stupid people. Hermione frowned as the two men began to brawl in their drunken states. Seeing such display of stupidity irritated her but it was good for business, as long as the brawlers entertained the rest of tavern customers instead of spreading the fight to them. The bouncer was already in position to separate the men should they get too rowdy. Hermione switched the tune she was playing on her lute into something more lively to liven the mood. With the change in the tune, the cheering began to pick up and the fight became more furious. Why are they like this?
To make matters worse, a totally intoxicated man approached her with lust plain on his face.
"Hey ther, sweet thang. Wanna have some reall fun wid' a reall maan?" His words were barely coherent. Ignoring the man, she continued to play her lute.
"Ey! Imma talkin' to ya, ya hear me? Dun be so mute!" He shoved himself right by her, waving his arms about. Hermione stopped her playing and put down her lute. At the death of the music, several heads turned. They saw her pick up a parchment and a coal and scribble on the material. After writing, she dropped her message into the drunken man's hands.
Falsely believing that she was giving him interest, the man gleefully looked down onto the parchment.
Just because I am mute does not mean I have no standards.
In his pathetic state, it took him awhile to read the words and even longer to comprehend the meaning. However, once he did, he looked up angrily; ready to pounce at her for the insult. At that moment, Hermione smashed the stool she had been sitting on onto the man's head. The man was knocked out flat on to the tavern floor and did not get up. Looking down on the now unconscious man, she dusted her hands, picked up her lute and continued the song she had been playing standing.
People looked at the spectacle for a moment and then returned to their drinks eventually.
Inside, she was fuming. I hate these people.
The day after, she informed her employer she was going to stop work.
-x-x-x-x-
Maybe I should have kept the job. The cold was quite miserable. The rain soaking her cloak did not help too.
At the moment, Hermione was trekking through the beautiful forest trails of the mountains of Bern. The heavy downpour that was beating down on her was contributing to the tranquil atmosphere of bleak mountain top. Damn the weathers. If it's gonna be cold, at least snow! She grumpily shook the mud off her boots, only to have more staining them when she stepped on the next patch of soil. Giving up on the attempts to keep her clothing clean, she just silently – not that she had much other choice on that matter – marched on.
She was slightly low on financial capabilities at the moment and had been unable to pay for a caravan – which would have meant a much easier and drier trip – ride to the Town of Ferindo, a town frequented by rich and bored aristocrats for their holiday trips. She hoped to earn some more gold and, if possible, find a job.
Hermione heard the sound of a twig breaking. Instantly, she dropped down behind the bushed and checked her surroundings. Small animals do not break twigs. Only big animals and humans do that. Either of the two possibilities was likely meant well to a lone lady in the wilds. Focusing on the small sounds of rustling leaves, she began to locate the source.
Taking care not to make sounds herself, she tracked down her objective. She found them. There were three men in thick fur coats in the bushes. Being at higher terrain, she was able to observe them without being detected. At the moment, they were so focused on whatever they were doing that Hermione doubted they would have known her presence unless she tapped them on the shoulder.
Usually, she would have decided to sneak past the trio and be on her way. However, at that moment, she found herself unable to tear away. There was something wrong with the picture she was seeing. She strained her head trying to figure out what was disturbing her.
The men all had axes at their side. Their attention were focused on something quite a distance away – she could see how concentrated they were by the way they barely turned their heads away. Whatever their quarry is, they were really intent on getting it. It was then that she figured out what's been bugging her. If their quarry was an animal, they would not only be equipped with axes. Their target was probably human.
With the suspicion, Hermione moved to see what had their attention. She had to – reluctantly – move closer to the men because her original position did not give her the angle to see their target.
Indeed, it was human. She was a girl in cyan dress. She had long hair of the matching color. She was alone, watching blankly into the air, as if she was observing the raining. Hermione thought to herself, why is she so elegant? Before the severity of the situation caught with her. Any fool could guess what the triple of men wanted. Just as she made the connection in her mind, the three men rose and began to approach the girl. Those scumbags. Rage filled her.
Any other people could have risen up and shouted out a warning. However, Hermione did not have such a luxurious option. Cursing her disability, she did the best thing she could. Not logically predicting that she had no chance winning three burly men any more than the cyan-haired girl did, Hermione sprinted towards them. She crashed into them from behind just as they emerged from the bush.
At that precise moment, searing pain engulfed her. Blaze enveloped the three men and she had ran into them.
The last thing she heard before she lost consciousness was, "Harbinger, you mad son of a bitch! There's a girl there!"
-x-x-x-x-
Pain. Pain. Pain. It hurts to be alive. Hermione's first thoughts were not so optimistic. However, granted the fact that she was in sheer agony, her pessimism should not be considered over-dramatic. She tried to open her eyelids and was congratulated with more pain. She then decided to not move at all.
With complete stillness, she could hear the conversation from another room.
The first male voice was the same voice that she had heard just before the fire spell had knocked her out. It was loud and barely disguising his anger. "You want to kill the girl? What the hell, Harbinger! Why did you heal her in first place then?"
The second voice did not voice a single emotion; this voice sent a chill down her spine. "Recall, Mark, that I only healed her burns because you were shrieking at me. I believe killing her would result in the optimal outcome for her."
For a moment, Hermione was wondering how her death could be best for her. Her misunderstanding was cleared when she heard the third voice. "I do not want her to die for me. She was trying to help me." It was a girl's voice, gentle and petit. Hermione assumed the person was the cyan-haired girl.
Harbinger replied, "do not be benevolent. If your presence gets known, more people will die. Would you risk that just because of one person?
The first voice – the one Hermione decided to term her 'defender' – argued. "There are other ways to silence people; like, asking. I know you have to kill people, but try to control your urges."
Harbinger's voice got colder and sharper. "Oh? Is that so? So what if she lives? She is in no condition to leave. If we do choose to save her, we would have to escort her away from here. She's just a burden."
"Oh, so now you are going to kill her because she's a dead weight? What the hell, Harbinger. You are one cold son of a bitch."
"I am just stating the facts."
"Well, so was I, you cold son of a…"
"That's enough, please. Please do not fight." The girl's voice cut in. "Sir Tablesse, while your logic is correct, I cannot just kill a person because she is going to slow us."
"See that? Even she thinks you are a cold…"
"Mark. Stop that."
"I'm just stating the truth, Ninian."
"Mark."
"Fine."
"Thank you. Would you be kind enough to escort the girl to the nearest human settlement? I will continue on my way with Sir Tablesse."
"You are going to go alone with him?"
"Do you not trust me?" Harbinger/Tablesse's voice was heard.
There was a stretch of silence.
Mark's curt reply was, "I don't. However, I do trust your employer."
"That is all you need to trust. We should leave immediately. The bothersome ordeal had taken some of our time and leaves us no more to dawdle. Let's go, Lady Ninian."
"Be careful, Ninian. I will try to meet you before you leave." Mark's voice was full of worry.
"Farewell, Mark. I hope to see you there before I leave." Ninian's voice contained no such worry, but did hold sorrow.
Tablesse's unemotional voice said, "by the way, the girl had been conscious for a while. She would have heard fair bit of our conversation. I still think it is good idea to kill her but the choice is yours."
There was the sound of door opening. Moments later, there was the sound of door closing.
After that, there was the sound of door opening again. However, the sound was much closer this time.
"You know I know you are awake. Let's not play games," was the opening ice-breaker from Mark.
Straining, Hermione opened her eyes. She frowned at the effort and the pain.
"I'm Mark, your name?" Unlike her expectations, Mark's expression was not friendly. How am I going to tell him I need paper and chalk if I do not have paper and chalk? Hermione wondered irritatedly.
That's why she was mildly surprised when the man slipped a wooden plank under her hand and pressed into the same hand a piece of charcoal.
"Here you go, this should be enough." A smirk came to his face.
How did you know?Was her first sentence.
"I inspected your possessions. I had to make sure you really were no spy of sorts. I just found your notebook and made the deduction."
Are you going to kill me?
"Probably not. I do not really kill girls. They are more fun alive." Mark's hard look slow began to peel off as he talked.
Hermione glared at him for the last sentence. Mark saw the look and rolled his eyes.
"You girls. Always assuming that we are being suggestive when we say something like that. Despite what you want to believe, not everything we say is sexually implicit."
Perhaps not everything, but almost enough.
"Had some bad experience, huh? Alright, I won't crack such jokes then. You are pretty enough to have been harassed in such manners, I guess. Just tell me your name."
Hermione.
"After the princess, huh? Nice name. So where do you live, Hermione? I will drop you there."
Hermione just remembered something very important. Where's my lyre?
Suddenly, Mark did not look so comfortable. "The lyre? Why? Is that precious to you?"
Not much. It just happens to be my sole source of income. Why do you ask?
"Umm. You see; not all of your possessions survived the unfortunate incident of you collapsing unscathed." Hermione did not like where the conversation was heading.
Mark continued, "in fact, one can say your lyre was the worst off of the lot. I wouldn't agree, but it's a close competition." Hermione's jaw clenched as her suspicion was confirmed.
Meh. Kill me now. It's no different to me.
"Wow, wow, wow. Don't say that now. Might make me feel bad."
It's true. A mute bard without a lyre? Who's going to hire me?
"Hmm. Why not change your job?"
No. Leave me alone. She turned away from the guy and closed her eyes.
She reminisced how she became a bard.
-x-x-x-x-
Seven years ago,
A slap struck the side of her face. Accompanied by the pain, Hermione emerged from unconsciousness.
Another slap. She wanted to cry out, but found out that she could not. More blows came, but she could not make a single sound.
"Excellent, Jeffinton. You've done a splendid job. She's not making a single sound." A slurry, low tone voice spoke.
"Good quality service for good pay is my motto, Lord Evingel." The second voice was much more frigid and high pitched.
"Indeed. Thanks to you, my entertainments and pleasures will be much more silent. You have my thanks." There was a slight chuckle in the lord's words.
It was then that Hermione remembered what had happened to her in the past few days. Just a few days ago, she was snatched from the woods – where she had been secretly training her singing – by Evingel's men. The lecherous demon had locked her in a cell and violated her whenever he had wanted. Each time, she had resisted as much as she could physically and vocally. Last night, he had threatened to silence her forever. Now she knew it had been no threat but a warning.
Silently, tears slid down her face. Singing had been her secret passion for the most of her life. Without it, her life seemed meaningless.
"Oh look, doctor. The girl cries. Such a lovely thing, isn't she?"
"Quite, Lord Evingel. You have good eyes for things, I must admit."
"Yes, yes. Leave us, Jeffinton. The girl and I are going to have a passionate night tonight." The grin on his face was hungry in an animalistic fashion."
"Of course, Lord Evingel." The lord was peeling the clothing off her even before his henchman had left them. Still distraught at what these vile creatures had done to her, Hermione did not resist.
Evingel was about to remove her under garments when a voice was heard. "That's far enough, Lord Evingel. Please kindly remove your filthy hands from the young lady."
"Who is that?" Evingel's reaction was swift; his hands were reaching for his fire tome as he spoke.
From the darkness, an arrow appeared and ripped the tome from the aristocrat's hands. The second missile followed and embedded itself into the shoulder of the man. Evingel screamed. Then a third came and entered his thigh.
"Scream some more and I will put another in you."
Hermione could see the lord visibly forcing himself to remain silent. "Who, who are you?"
A man came out of the darkness. He seemed about fortyish. His longbow and arrows clearly showed that he was the assaulter.
"Nice to meet you, Lord Evingel. I am the Huntsman. Perhaps you've heard of me?" From the shudder, Hermione knew the noble did.
Without warning, the lord yelled out, "Jeffinton! Come quick!" Instant later, Huntsman stabbed an arrow into the lord's side.
"Tsk, tsk, my lord. Even if you know you are going to die, you shouldn't be asking for help from your dead henchman. He deserves his eternal rest too, you know." The lord's eyes closed.
Pulling his arrow out of the corpse, the Huntsman carelessly discarded the man. He wiped the blood off with the dead man's rich robes and then returned the arrow back to his quiver.
Then he turned to her. "Hello, there."
She stared at him.
He took of his cloak and approached her.
She backed away.
He stopped approaching and offered his cloak. "Cover yourself with this."
Reluctantly, she received the cloak.
Seeing the untrusting glare she was giving her, Levin knew she wasn't going to be easy to talk to.
"This is going to be a loooong conversation."
-x-x-x-x-
"Again? Hermione. This has got to stop." Hermione heard Levin as he found her.
She had been secretly been crying again.
The Huntsman put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, which she brushed off. He did not try again. Instead, he grabbed her paper and chalk and placed them by her side. She ignored those.
"Hermione, your voice is lost. It is regrettable, but you have to move on."
They had tried ways to fix what Jeffinton had done to her, but had failed each time.
"Stop moping and figure out a way to get on with your life. I can't take care of you for long."
Angrily, she grabbed the writing materials she had been ignoring and furiously scribbled.
Go then. I didn't ask for you to stay. You are free to leave.
"Hermione," was his grim reply.
You have no idea what singing was to me. It was my everything. How can you just tell me to just move on?
"I've lost my everything before. I moved on, didn't I?"
Hermione looked at him in surprise at the answer. The Huntsman did not meet her eyes. His eyes had lost focus, as he recalled his past.
"It's hard, I know. You cannot imagine how you are going to survive the day after without them. I know how it's like. I hear the voice taunting me often, 'Levin. They are gone. You are nothing now.' I know how it's like to lose everything in an instant." Hermione saw his eyes turn moist, something she did not expect from the hardened assassin.
"But, Hermione, you can do it. You can't just sit around doing nothing. In the end, you define your life. Nothing is ultimately able to lead you to your downfall except yourself. I hope you can rescue yourself."
You are crying.
"Indeed I am, Hermione. I am a human. I smile, I cry."
Singing was my everything.
"If music was your everything. Figure out a way to bring it back to your life. Fight, Hermione. Fight it out."
Hermione looked at the man in tears. She reached for her handkerchief, reached for him and began to wipe his tears.
-x-x-x-x-
Hermione was annoyed to find tears in her eyes. Although she and Levin had travelled together for only a month, he had been a very big presence in her life. He had given her the strength to live on and motivated her playing of the lyres.
"Hermione? Are you alright?" Mark's voice expressed concern.
Losing the lyre is nothing like losing my voice. Hermione's eyes gleamed with determination. She turned back to the man and scribbled a demand on the plywood.
Buy me a lyre.
"What?" Mark was taken aback at the suddenly determined lady at his side.
You blind? Buy me a lyre. You people broke my old one, so you should help me get a new one.
"Quite a character, aren't you?" Mark could see the determination within the bard. A stroke of inspiration struck him. "I have an idea." She looked at him expectantly.
"Why don't you work for me?" Hermione imagined that he was being suggestive and was about to retort, then remembered his previous comment and stilled the coal.
Mark grinned at her, as if he knew what had just gone through her head.
"My occupation involves a lot of travelling. Travelling is more pleasant with a bard."
You are not telling me things.
"Indeed, I am not. I can't trust you with secrets."
And you want me to trust you enough to trust you?
"Yes. I can assure you though; no desperate men will disturb you." A smirk lingered in his face and somehow made Hermione smile.
Alright then. But the pay must be good.
"Welcome to the family, Hermione."
-x-x-x-x-
AN: I need to start the main plot… I can't reveal stuff here without revealing the plot in the main one. Oh the dilemma. I guess I have to do what I have to do.
I think I am writing too many girl character stories. At least I hope they are good.
I don't really have much to say. Bye ppl.
desoldeben out.