Nelgetha

Part three of a fanfiction by Velkyn Karma

Disclaimer: I do not own, or pretend to own, the Fire Emblem game series or any of its subsequent characters, plots or other ideas. That right belongs solely to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems. The only thing here that's mine is the idea for the story, as well as the character Maeya.

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"If someone shows you who they are, believe them."

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Through his haze of pain Reyson found himself stiffening, staring across at his sudden enemy in shock. Why now? his mind wailed in desperation, even as he leaned heavily against the thick oak supporting him. Why now, when he was so clearly weak, helpless, at the mercy of his enemy? It was unfair, wrong. He did not want to die at the hands of a filthy Daein human like some pathetic kept fowl.

The girl did not move, only stared at him in surprise, and the thought occurred fleetingly in his hazy mind that she had, perhaps, never seen a laguz before. This could work to his advantage, he recognized feebly, but only if he seized the opportunity now.

Fighting to overcome his pain, the prince reacted immediately, working just as much in fear as in defense. He twisted, struggling to hide his broken right wing while he flared his left one as best as able, feathers spreading wide; it made him seem much larger than he truly was. Crouching defensively, he hissed like a threatened bird defending its nest, and cursed himself fervently for lacking the powerful talons and ripping beaks of his cousins. If the woman truly desired to attack, she could kill him easily without receiving so much as a scratch in return.

But the archer seemed to have no knowledge of this, and she backed up a pace, gasping slightly at his defensive show. He felt his hopes rise—perhaps he could escape unscathed. Though it seemed unlikely, he thought grimly. Her weapon was one of range. She would not have to approach him to end his life.

The girl hesitated, but did not reach for her bow, or back away further. This frustrated the pained heron, and he shook his better wing threateningly, trying to ignore the searing pain that ran up the feathered limb and into his consciousness. If he was forced to continue this much longer he would collapse. He did not have the strength to endure this strain or stress.

She opened her mouth suddenly and spoke, and to his amazement Reyson realized she was trying to talk to him. "A-are you a...a sub-human?"

He hissed at the hateful words. Another filthy human! He would not give her the satisfaction of taunting him before death. Feigning ignorance, he returned a hateful phrase at her in the language of the Serenes. "Foolish human...your idiocy disgusts me."

The woman looked surprised at the graceful, fluid language that slid from his tongue, and her eyes glittered. She was enthralled, Reyson realized with further disgust. Humans were all the same: they hated him for being laguz, or became enamored of him for his appearance as an owner loves a piece of art. It sickened him.

But then her gaze fell to disappointment, and she sighed. "Oh...you don't understand me then, I guess..." She paused, and then took a hesitant step forward.

Reyson hissed again, a guttural warning sound that came instinctively from the depths of his throat, and tried to step backwards. But his legs were already weakened from the stress he had endured in this unpleasant meeting, and they gave way beneath him. With a soft, yet strangely ethereal cry of pain, the prince fell against the thick tree trunk already supporting him. He slid, dragging, down its side, collapsing into a disorganized heap at its roots. His broken right wing crumpled beneath him, and he let loose another choked groan. The laguz was loathe to show his weaknesses to his enemy, but he could not hold the cries in, the pain was too much now...

"Oh!" the woman gasped in surprise, as she caught sight of the snapped wing and the broken shafts embedded in his shoulders. "You're hurt..." And she stepped forward quickly, hands outstretched, reaching for him.

Reyson panicked, unleashed a hissing scream vaguely reminiscent of the shrieks of his hawk cousins, but far softer. The cry encased all his pain and misery as well as his warning, and he tried to flare his stronger wing once more, though the attempt was feeble.

The woman froze in place, startled and nervous looking, and did not move forward again. Satisfied for the moment, but still terribly aware of the danger, the heron began to shuffle weakly backwards away from her—he could no longer find the strength to stand. His broken wing dragged painfully after him, limp and useless, and he grimaced as agonizing bolts shot through him again and again with each minuscule movement.

"Oh, don't!" the woman yelped, looking helpless and holding up her hands imploringly. "You'll hurt yourself more, your poor wing...!"

Reyson froze, panting with exhaustion, and glared at her with wary hatred boiling beneath his fatigue. If he did not know the Daein scum better, he would have guessed that was worry in her tone. But all Daeins hated the "sub-humans," and he would not be foolish enough to fall for their loathsome tricks. He paused, rested for a few moments, and continued to drag himself backward.

"Oh, please," she said again, and now she sounded helpless as well. "Don't hurt yourself more, please...let me help you." But Reyson only ignored her words, continued to watch her warily, and pulled himself backward. He needed to find a place to stand. If he could stand, he could match her, maybe get away from her. It was a slim chance, but a possibility...

The woman gave a sudden sad smile. "I...I see. I suppose I can't blame you." She dropped her gaze and played with her hands nervously, speaking hesitantly even after she had determined that Reyson 'did not understand her.' "I mean...my people are your enemy, aren't they? And they don't seem to like sub-humans much..."

Reyson hissed low in his throat at the word and backed up a little further, flinching at the pain in his wing as he moved. The woman blinked in surprise, and her head jerked up suddenly as if in revelation.

"Oh! I'm sorry...I didn't mean to..." she flushed in embarrassment, looking apologetic. "I mean...it just slipped out, that's all. I've been taught that all my life. But you know," she added suddenly, and a sheepish, conspiratorial grin passed over her face, "I heard somewhere that that isn't really what you're called. You're actually called...ah...laguz, was it? Right?"

Her lips had fumbled clumsily over the word, and she looked anxious as she said it. But even so, hearing this Daein filth properly address him shocked Reyson to his core, wiped away his pain for the barest of moments. Why would this human care about what to call him? All humans were the same; self centered and disgusting, thinking themselves far above the laguz when they held no such rank, and Daeins were the worst example of all of such humans.

His shock must have been evident on his face, even through his pained grimace, because she gave a soft chuckle. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to surprise you. Oh, or perhaps I made a fool of myself. Did I say it right? I bet I pronounced it wrong...I'm sorry." She hesitated, and then added, "My mother would be throwing a fit if she knew I was talking to a...a 'sub-human,' is what she calls you...but I don't see why." She smiled at him. "You're the first...laguz...that I've met, but you don't seem so bad. In fact, you look very pretty!"

Of course, he thought with disgust. She was the other human then; the type that gawked at his appearance, would keep him as an item if she had the power to. He thought back to Oliver with a grimace, and shifted himself away from her further, hissing in pain.

"Oh, please don't!" she said helplessly, the grin on her face gone. "It would be terrible if you hurt yourself more. I...I don't want to hurt you. I'd like to help you, if you'll let me--"

"Never!" he spat at her, once again in the language of the forest, but even so the vicious tone of his voice was painfully clear.

The woman flinched at the tone of his voice, but her eyes softened almost immediately at the soft groan of pain that escaped his throat afterwards. "Isn't there anything I can do to make you trust me?" she asked helplessly. "Ah...perhaps...well, maybe this would work?" She hesitated, but then unslung the bow from her back.

Reyson started backwards, eyes widening in both hatred and fear. She would kill him now. His life was forfeit. He flared his left wing feebly once again in an effort to drive her away, struggled to raise himself to his feet. He would not die wallowing in the dirt while his enemy stood above him.

"Don't!" the woman called sharply, looking worried, as he struggled to rise. "You're going to hurt yourself!" And to his amazement, she removed both the bow and her quiver of arrows, and tossed them with care several feet behind her into the bushes.

"There, see?" She turned back to him now, met his eyes, and spoke soothingly. "I don't want to be an enemy. I just want to help you. Can...can I come closer?"

The heron was not exactly sure what had occurred. His mind was hazy from the pain lancing through all of his senses, and his breath came in short gasps as he tried desperately to breathe. But he was aware, dimly, of the significance of her act. Without their weapons, the humans were as helpless as newborns compared to the laguz, and to willingly give up her only defense was similar to his cousins surrendering their privilege to their claws or talons. It made no rational sense. Perhaps this was a very elaborate trap? But that was pointless; he was already helpless and could be just as easily subdued without requiring further trickery.

No, something about this woman seemed...different. Rather like when he had first met Ike, or Tormod, or spent time among the laguz-friendly mercenaries. Perhaps she was not a normal Daein human?

His flared wing lowered slowly, gratefully; the barb embedded within it had been tearing painfully at the fragile muscle and bone of the limb, and he was not sure how much longer he could have managed the display. He ceased trying to stand, struggling instead to simply remain sitting upright, and watched the woman warily.

She smiled softly as his defensive form lowered and began to step forward, tentatively at first, but soon gaining confidence. Her movements were gentle, nonthreatening, and she held up her arms in an appealing gesture. "That's good," she said softly. "I'm glad you trust me. I just want to help, that's all."

Her actions surprised his dazed mind. He could not understand why this human was acting so kindly. Perhaps she still had a motive, but he was too exhausted to care anymore. He could not escape her anyway. What was the point in fighting?

She came to stand before his kneeling form, now only a few paces from his broken, exhausted body. This was the moment when she would take action, Reyson knew. Perhaps she would kill him then and there, to insult his pride, or maybe she would capture him and bring him back to her Daein companions. He already knew, rather bitterly, that his selling price on the laguz slave market was fantastically high.

But whatever action he had been expecting from her, it was certainly not what she did next. She did not leap to kill him, to torture him, to bind his limbs and force him back to her company.

She bowed before him politely, a deep bow that Reyson vaguely realized was reserved for human nobles alone. And then she smiled at him, and said rather sheepishly, "Well, I don't mean to seem odd or anything, but...it's just that you seem to look like a very important person to me, and I thought maybe I should pay my respects first." She knelt before him with a cheerful grin, soft and reassuring. "Oh...and my name is Maeya, in case you were wondering."

Reyson's shock was unparalleled, flooding his mind and combating briefly the waves of agony that plagued him. He had expected nothing of this sort from a filthy Daein. The Daein people did not care about his own, would never care about the 'sub-humans' they so loathed.

But Maeya, he realized suddenly, was not the same as most Daeins. And in his mind, her identity had gained not only a name, but had shifted subtly but powerfully from "human" to "Beorc."

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And there's chapter three for you. We are going somewhere with this, trust me. Fear not; this still remains a non-pairing fic, and will never change.

Is anyone else fascinated by how bizarrely pretty Reyson is? He always reminds me of an angel. A rather distrustful, grudge-keeping angel, but an angel nonetheless. It's probably good that I can't actually meet him then, because while I'd attempt to treat him respectfully I don't think I'd be able to stop staring at him, either.

Plus he has wings, and wings are awesome, and I love drawing them. I'd probably want to study them too much and I bet that'd make him altogether unhappy with me. Oops.

If you leave a review, as always, put some meat in it! I want to hear what you liked or didn't like, what you thought was done well, what could be improved. It helps a lot more than you could possibly imagine.