"Abide with Me"

~o~

"Abide: Await something: to wait for someone or something"

~o~

It is not quite dark out when she finds him straying outside of the camp. He is alone; there is no sign of the young dancer that he strives to spend each moment near. Isadora wonders about this and notes that he still bears his sword in his belt, despite his listless wandering. She nods approvingly; whatever has caused this melancholy, at least it has not caused him to take leave of all his wits.

Lowen had intimated that their young master was in ill humor when he presented Eliwood's request for her presence and then went on into a detailed supposition regarding a lack of favored food. Isadora doubted that meals were high on the list of depressing topics in Eliwood's mind however, and left the squire to his ramblings while she left to answer the summons. Now that she had found him, it was clear that something was troubling him.

"Milord?"

"Just Eliwood." His reply is absent-minded, carelessly thrown out to her on the wings of indifference. He ceases his wandering however, and seats himself upon the ground. "I am not yet a lord - my father retains the title until we prove beyond the shadow of a doubt his demise. And I do not believe that he is dead."

He speaks strongly regarding his father, so it is not this that has required her ear this night. "Tell me, Dame Isadora, how fares my mother?"

Isadora feels a touch of guilt at his words. Despite the wishes of her lady liege and the words that released her to aid young Eliwood, both father and son entrusted Lady Eleanora's safety to her. As they have so often upon her journey, her thoughts return to the one woman that she has served faithfully in all things.

'Please be safe, milady!'

Still, she must answer as best she can to assuage any fears in that regard. "She was well when we parted, Milord Eliwood. Her only concern was with your wellbeing."

'Isadora, take care of my son. See that he returns home safely.'

Her thoughts are broken by a sigh. Eliwood slouches forward and wraps his arms around his knees, looking extremely awkward upon the ground. It feels intolerable to stand over him thus, so Isadora joins him, carefully laying her weapon within easy reach and settling herself as comfortably as she can despite the heavy armor she wears. When her young lord sighs again, she knows it is time to speak.

"What bothers you, milord? Have you fallen ill, perhaps?"

He ignores the question and Isadora presses on. "If you will not tell me of your troubles, will you not speak with Sir Marcus or the Lady Ninian?"

He laughs then and it sounds hollow in the night air. "You hit on part of the problem, even without knowing what it is."

"Is it the Lady Ninian?" Isadora ponders the situation. He would not be this distraught over Marcus, that much was certain. Besides, the aging soldier was quite well when she had seen him earlier scolding the younger knights at the campfire. Though perhaps that explained why Eliwood had turned to her during his troubles; Marcus meant well, but his methods and understanding were not always compatible with the young lord's personality. And love is a different realm altogether from the battlefield, which is where Sir Marcus shone.

Besides which, she had been engaged to Harken before the ill fated expedition left. Perhaps that was what leads to her position here.

"I had thought the two of you shared some understanding."

Eliwood sighs despondently and sits up straighter. His arms fall to his sides and he shakes his head slowly. "I try each day to understand. I speak with her constantly and purport myself with the utmost civility and compassion; yet when evening comes, she is never in my company. When I attempt to search her out... it almost seems that she avoids me. I begin to feel that someone else holds her attentions."

With the light fading, Isadora turns her attention back to their surroundings. Beside her, Eliwood is now an indistinct shape in the darkness. The moon has not yet risen to give its friendly half-light to the world and the stars lay mostly concealed by a thin layer of cloud, though a few bright spots peek through the dark cover. "Did you wish for me to find out who she visits?"

"No!" Eliwood is quick to exclaim, though his corresponding tone becomes less explosive and more the uncertain youth. "No. I... if I had wanted to know that, I could have found it out easily enough; the army is not that large and Matthew could have told me what I wanted to know for a price. Perhaps Ninian would tell me herself, if I asked. But though I yearn to put a face to the phantom that haunts this dream of mine, I cannot bear to know what manner of man steals the world from me."

"And it is only yet a dream, one that may never come to pass. Children can dream and live for the dreaming; I am no longer a child and must follow the hard path that I have started, no matter the dreams that must lie in the dust along the way. No, Dame Isadora," Eliwood paused to heave a heavy sigh, "I did not ask your presence to solve this matter for me. Whatever ill it may betide my fortunes, I see that it brightens Ninian's days and will not stand in any way astride the path that leads her onward to happiness."

"My wish - such as it was - was to not be alone with my thoughts in this time. And there were none that I felt that I might unburden them to; Hector might laugh, Marcus would tell me to steady myself, and I do not yet know any of the rest of the company well enough to tell beforehand whether my complaints would sow discord amongst the army. It would be most unthankful of me, especially when no few of them aid me on my own personal quest to find my father."

"And I?" Isadora prompts him. She admits a curiosity to see how he sees her.

"My mother once told me that you were her closest confidante, someone that she trusted in all things and that wisdom was something that you both collected and dispensed. And perhaps more importantly, you have loved another." She hears him shifting his position in the dark, trying for a more comfortable seat.

"Ah." For a while she sits silently, pondering. When she does speak again, it is with some hesitancy. "A wise man once told me that the first love burns the fiercest, pains the deepest and dies the fastest. He also said that even after that first love dies, there will be other, stronger loves that will come along to replace it. Perhaps it is because your heart has learned to temper its passion into strength and endurance..." Her voice trails off; she does not know what else to say.

She has yet to finish contending with her own grief and it leaves her hesitant at heart. How can she counsel her young lord when she finds herself lacking? And yet he has no other that he chooses to turn to.

There are no more words, but perhaps presence suffices.

~o~

AN: As promised, Eliwood/Isadora interaction.

Minor edits. Thanks Mark!