Meant to Be

by doneandmoredone

Suikoden V; Freyjador hoped sincerely that this phase would come to pass, and he and Lyon could just have a relationship befitting of the prince and his bodyguard; however, his feelings may prove to be a bit too resilient. Prince x Lyon.

3. Remorse

Title: Meant to Be; Part 3 of 7

Author: Risa

Pairing: Prince/Lyon

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I'm sure I don't need to tell you how canon this pairing would be if it were mine at this point.

Part 3: Remorse

Prince Freyjador's heart sunk like a stone when the light from the Sun Rune sunk and faded into the confines of the Sealed Room. It was over. Just like that. Between the masturbatory goggle of aristocrats, to the assassination of his parents, it was a wonder the Prince could stand to so much as breathe. It didn't help that Georg socked him unconscious, because Freyjador was beside himself with worry for his little sister. In fact, he still was. He didn't know if it was shock, or pride that stilled his tears. He could taste them in his throat like venom, but between Lyon's lamenting hiccups and the hardened sobs of Sialeeds, he found himself unable to spill his own grief just yet. Had he actually eaten more than two bites at the banquet he might have lost his supper to the Feitas, though.

Every cell in his body was cold, and he found himself unable to look at anything, not that there was much to see but the stars in the sky and the sadness in everyone's face. Perhaps the only one in their entourage who wasn't overwhelmed at the moment was Zegai. He had his back turned to everyone, perhaps a method of offering as much privacy as he could, considering the circumstances, to everyone else's grieving. The Prince dared not look at Georg, who rowed with no help and said not a word since beacon faded. He had never seen the man so on edge. Something wasn't quite right, but the words for it were lost on Freyjador entirely. Perhaps it was for the better. He feared the dam would break if he so much as croaked one syllable, but he was the Prince and he had to be strong.

They wouldn't be arriving at the East Palace for another two hours, perhaps less at the rate Georg was rowing. Hopefully the cover of night was enough to protect them. After their run in with Dolph and Childrich Freyjador was certain that his blood was drained of fruitless battle. He could very possibly die were another unfortunate encounter to come much too soon. One of his ribs was cracked, and a cut on his jaw began to itch something awful. It was almost a relief to have his attention on that annoyance for a time.

Lyon chose a moment toward the later half of their naval get away to beckon the Prince. Her voice was flayed raw from grief, and he thought perhaps that he should hold her for a moment. When he moved to sit beside her she wrapped her hands around his forearm and managed to catch his gaze. The storm in her eyes may have startled him if his own emotions weren't frozen.

"I promise to ensure your safety, Prince. No matter what. Even at the cost of my own life, I-"

"Shh," said Freyjador, pressing his finger to her dry lips. He couldn't bear to hear of anymore lives that could be lost, to be reminded of the possibility of future tragedies. He had feared this day. He had tried to think of ways to prevent it, but had also considered the what ifs. What if the Sun Rune consumed and killed his mother? What if it consumed them all? What if the Godwins or the Barows took over? Was it so beyond his grasp to do anything? The Prince of the Queendom, as powerless as a court jester. The butt of mockery. The harbinger of laughs. Doomed to be the pampered shadow living off the potch of his royal title.

He couldn't afford to have such thoughts, and if he did he generally let them pass like the wind. He wasn't simply shackled to a sex, or a bloodline. No, there was more to why he had to survive than that. Father and mother let him explore the country and its people for a reason. His title meant a lot to this country, but more so it was his mind, his compassion, and his endurance. If he could crawl through this haze tonight then Godwin be damned, and may The Sun have mercy on their souls, because he certainly wouldn't.

They spent perhaps half a morning at the East Palace, all but Zegai failing to get a wink of sleep despite the insistence of the guard. Fortunately the Queen had enough insight to station only the most loyal of guards there, so they would get all of the intelligence and medical attention that they needed. The Prince's cracked rib was mended with aid from a rune keeper and their Water Rune. The Wind Rune that Sialeeds was fond of may have worked just as well, but she had exhausted her capacity to use it during their escape, and wouldn't recover it without sufficient rest. Lyon had uttered something about her foolish decision to hbear a Lightning Rune rather than a Water Rune, but it had still come in handy. She wasn't quite the mage that the Prince and Sialeeds were, but she had done well enough.

They spent the rest of the day escaping farther into the country, north toward Lunas where Haswar was sure to house them, at least for the time being. The land was really quite beautiful in moments where time just seemed to stand still, and that was where the Prince was at the moment. If his thoughts weren't numb and the circumstances were significantly better he might have found the courage to compliment Lyon on her new outfit. She was really, very pretty, in any style of wear, though these days the Prince hardly ever saw her dressed as anything but a Queen's Knight apprentice.

That thought passed through his mind like a pleasant buzz, though it gave him no happiness. In fact, he felt shame in the fact that he could even think such things at a time like this. But he felt disconnected, isolated even, because everyone was silent, the mood was melancholy, and the lush green that surrounded them ought to have been as gray as the atmosphere. Perhaps it was OK to distract himself with some silly, passing thoughts. Anything to keep himself sane.

The trek to Lunas on foot took half a day, and the rest of the party tended to do all of the fighting. It wasn't that he couldn't give his tri-nunchaku a swing, it was just that everyone else got to the monsters first. If one got close to the Prince then Lyon made a point to take it out, and her speed was the greatest of anyone's. Her nature was generally protective, but this was almost annoying. Never mind how Georg seared though everything in the front of the entourage, and Zegai refused to be left out if fighting was involved. Sialeeds took it easy. She seemed a bit distracted anyway.

Once forever had passed the mountainous trek of Lunas came into view, no longer obscured by the hazy summer air. The sun had fallen away from the zenith some time ago, indicating that this was just about dinner time, not that he had an appetite. The Prince still had nothing but those two bites of bread from twenty-four hours ago, and a canteen of water for the road. And he felt a piercing sting in his heart when it occurred to him.

His parents were still alive the last time he ate.

They were alive, but they weren't happy. Their very young daughter was officially betrothed to a viper. Their son was throwing a quiet fit, and they sent him away so that he might cool off. Sialeeds did most of the talking when they ran into various Godwins, and the Prince just listened. He mostly listened, never really said a word when he didn't have to. He wasn't a good liar, and not even his strict upbringing couldn't make him one, so when his mood was miserable he opted for silence.

His silence had a lot to say, and he knew his conduct wasn't great. He couldn't pretend everything was all right when he knew something awful was coming. The entire family got together before the banquet to choke down some awful antidote per Lyon's suggestion, and mother had yet another one of her Sun Rune inspired episodes. Fortunately Miakis and Lym were out of earshot right when it happened. Who knows how much worse the night would have been for Lym if she had to see.

Thoughts of Lym took a stab at his throat, and he found himself unable to breathe quietly now. They were halfway up the mountain trail that would take them to Lunas by then. It was more than he could bear. His eyes and his heart blazed with the need to release this maddening grief, but he was taught that tears were a strictly a private matter. So was Sialeeds undoubtedly, for her own cries were short lived and shut down the moment her composure was required. How did royalty not go mad from bottling up so much raw emotion? He thought back to his grandmother for a moment and scratched the thought. His family was actually quite prone to madness, come to think of it.

Haswar could see it immediately upon their arrival, and she too was suppressing her own urges. If she had brought him into her arms he might have lost it right then and there. It would be too much like being held by his mother, and he never would be again. She knew that, and her own royal upbringing and wisdom showed at this moment. Perhaps she would have made a decent queen after all. There would have been no feud between the past queens. Mother and Sialeeds would not have been in line for the throne, and they could marry whoever. Freyjador and Lym could be brother and sister without all of the responsibility. Perhaps Gizel Godwin would have still been a good man, and all of this could have been avoided.

The game of "What If" was as productive as making sense of the babbling of Salum Barows, or his idiot son Euram. Speaking of what if...

No, he refused to let his mind wander down that road. The reality was awful enough.

"Why don't you get some rest?" Haswar offered, and not for the first time. Georg, Sialeeds, and even Zegai had vacated the room only moments ago, and where the Prince had some sort of vague inclination to give in to the pull of sleep, he was falling victim to a plague of dark thoughts, and that insufferable sting choked him once more. He could say nothing, only nod and disappear through the quaint little conclave.

"Thank you," said Lyon, bowing as she followed the Prince to his room. She of course was in a similar state of dismay, and where normally he relished her company like the warmth of the sun, he couldn't do anything about this lead weight in his chest if she was beside him.

"I would like to be alone," he managed to say, tough it barely squeaked through the burn. He almost thought she couldn't hear him.

"Oh, yes sir," she said, bowing to him and slipping the door shut. She wouldn't retreat to her own room and sleep. She was wired and paranoid, ever since the appearance of those blasted Nether Gate assassins. She would stand outside of his door fingering the hilt of her Nagamaki if so much as a mouse squeaked by, but this was the closest thing to isolation and privacy that he was going to get for a long time, and he had to let this grief out before it ate him alive.

So he sat on the cold floor and let out his tears, his frustration. He wanted to pummel the floor and tear out his hair, though all he could manage were a flood of tears, another pesky wave of nausea that would amount to nothing, and a chain of sobs that wracked his body. It wasn't like it was easy to breathe before, so he would manage. Images of his family raced through his mind, and by then he had almost forgotten to consider Lyon an entity outside of his door. He couldn't permit her to see his tears for his own reasons, but she undoubtedly heard them, and cried some more of her own with him. He could feel it.

He wondered if Lym was crying right now. If Miakis was with her then she more than likely wasn't. It would be all right. She was stronger than he, and she would move past this and put Gizel in his place on her own end. He still worried though, and it was only natural that a big brother should. He didn't want her getting married at all, let alone to scum. And that was when the sadness passed, and it turned into anger, and the anger morphed into resolve. He rubbed his face dry with his arm and stood, and he swore to The Sun that Godwin would fall, and Falena would belong to the royal family once more. The time for disgrace was over.

In less than five days time the Prince and the others, aside from Zegai who elected to stay out of Barows territory, made it to Rainwall. There was a collective sigh of relief from everyone involved, with the exception of Lyon. In the span of those five days she couldn't have slept more than two or three consecutive hours at a time, and once only because she had passed out in front of the Trade Shop in Haud. The Prince was so distracted by his own sadness that he hadn't noticed Lyon's poor physical state until her body shut down. They spent the night at the inn, per Boz Wilde's insistence, and he even covered the bill. The Prince insisted on being at Lyon's bedside, and he eventually fell asleep while he held her hand. He awoke with the sun tucked in that very bed with Lyon dozing at his bedside. He pleaded with her to get more rest, but she insisted that she was fine, and so they moved on. There was really no use arguing about it.

At last when they had reached Rainwall the Prince could breathe again. Lord Barows might have been an insufferable bag of hot air, but he hadn't openly waged war on the royal family as Godwin had, and currently Barows was the only force that stood a chance against the Godwins. This arrangement would simply have to do for now.

Once Luserina Barows had everyone settled in, Lyon appeared as though she were about to burst. Sialeeds had accused her of being paranoid, and before the Prince could put in another word of comfort he was stopped dead in his tracks by an unsettling confession.

"... I was once a member of Nether Gate too."

"What?" said the Prince. It was all he could manage. The cogs that processed information in his mind were overworked and smoking, and this revelation was something was not something that could be processed at this time. His tongue was paralyzed, but thankfully Sialeeds managed to step in and say everything he might have were his mind in better working order.

A day couldn't go by without Lyon mentioning how grateful she was to Ferid, and Freyjador was also grateful. Not only did Ferid bring her into their home and raise her as their own, he saved her. She felt like she owed the world so much, and it was starting to come together. She felt guilty for the circumstances of her earliest upbringing. Ferid had told him and perhaps even Lym on a separate occasion to never ask Lyon about her past, because all it would do is cause her pain. The last thing the Prince wanted was for anyone to be in pain, so he happily complied. Instead he watched her grow from a safe distance. Her eyes used to be so cold, and it took her a long time to learn how to smile, so every chance he got he would show her with his own, and in due time she would follow his example, and this old pain healed over time.

"Do you think you can still trust me, even though you know about my past?" she said, looking him in the eye with such sadness. It was almost like she wanted him to say no, but that was impossible. Though his mind was a hodgepodge of knots, it didn't take much sense to deduce that her involvement with Nether Gate was not only not her fault, but she still harbored the weight of unnecessary guilt over it. Besides, this was Lyon. She swore her life to him on a daily basis, and she understood him perhaps better than anyone in this world could. He loved her dearly.

He loved her.

And he wouldn't turn her away.

"Of course, Lyon," he said, and it came so naturally to him even now, to give her that special smile that he taught to her when they were children, and at once there were tears of relief rushing down her cheeks. If he were just a bit braver he would have kissed them all away and held her and never, ever let go. If he were braver still he may even shed his own tears with her.

"My Sir Georg, is that your stomach growling?" said Sialeeds, heading to the door. "Where are your manners?"

There was never a peep from Georg's gut actually, having consumed plenty of food back at Haud Inn before their departure, but he saw what she was getting at even before she nodded toward the Prince and Lyon. The way Freyjador smiled at her was like the bloom of cherry blossoms, pink and proud and ready to fly. He must have read that in a poem once, or perhaps heard it somewhere. Regardless it seemed to fit just right.

"Hah, you got me," said Georg, taking the hint and following Sialeeds out of the room. Not even the promise of food could rouse Freyjador from the moment, so Georg slid the door shut behind them in peace.

A/N: Sorry about the wait. Don't ask why this took me five years to update, I just don't know. o.O; I've approached this chapter dozens of times, and always wound up blocked. I wound up deleting everything I had for this chapter and rewriting it because it was so bad, and I also revised the first two chapters to make them more presentable. So, err, if anyone's still reading this, thanks. Bear with me! Pretty damn sure the last four chappies won't take five years. I still know where I'm going with this.