Summary: Lethe/Ranulf, unrequited Lyre/Ranulf, side-helping of Mordecai, probably post-Endgame; sometimes, Lyre's big mouth causes more harm than she realizes.
Notes: I'm so not proud of this one, but it was what came to mind.
I'm Not Unfaithful
"I'm not! Honest, Lethe, I swear to you by Yune that I'm not!" Ranulf wailed, miserably trailing after the other cat laguz as she stalked away from him.
Purple eyes blazed over at him as Lethe slanted him a look. "Then why is my sister bragging about it?" the orange-haired laguz demanded.
Ranulf's eyes widened in horror. "She's bragging about something like that?" Suddenly realizing how that might have sounded, "Lethe, Lethe that doesn't mean—"
"I don't want to hear it, Ranulf!" Lethe snapped, before turning into her cat form and bounding off.
Was she…was she crying before she ran off? Oh, by Yune, I could kill Lyre right now…
"Ranulf," broke in on his musings. Jerking up, the blue-haired cat stared into Mordecai's understanding eyes. "Ranulf, you should go after Lethe, and show her why you are not unfaithful."
Thinking about it for a moment, an idea of just how to do that came to Ranulf's mind. "Yeah, yeah you've got a point there. Hey, Mordecai, can you stall anyone else?"
"Mordecai will do that," the gentle tiger promised.
"Thanks, I owe you," Ranulf called as he turned into his cat form and followed Lethe's scent into the forest.
When he finally found her, the commander of Gallia's army could definitely smell the saltwater in Lethe's scent that meant tears, however few, and he found his fury with Lyre's flirting rising to a new level. Damnit, didn't she know that her twin was insecure about her relationship with him? Putting Lyre aside for the moment, Ranulf crept closer to Lethe, hoping to get as close to her as possible.
The orange-furred cat whirled around, hissing and striking out at him, but Ranulf was prepared for something like that, and so he dodged. "Lethe, let me explain to you," a sweep of her claws which he narrowly evaded, "why exactly I have no interest in Lyre."
Lethe regarded him suspiciously, but backed off with the claws, even turning back to her other form. Ranulf sighed in relief and did the same before striding over to her. Narrowed purple eyes regarded him as he bent down slightly. Before she could guess his intent and dodge away, his arms were around her waist, pulling her tight against him.
Ranulf ignored Lethe's struggles to be free as he breathed in her scent, enjoying the spikes that anger gave it. "I love you, Lethe," he whispered in her ear. "I chose you, not Lyre, and I should hope that I know enough to not make a mistake. Yes, Lyre flirted with me, but that doesn't mean anything. I love you, not Lyre, but Lethe."
Lethe's struggles had stopped and she regarded him somewhat suspiciously. "You're sure you didn't make a mistake?" Lethe demanded.
In response, Ranulf leaned in, positive that he could convince her better with actions than with words.