Sacrifice
Chapter Five
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A/N: Well, this took longer than expected, but I finally finished it. Thank you to my reviewers, spygirly, FE Frog, mr. stranger, meguin the penguin (though should I honestly call that a review, consobrina? Oh, and you spelled banana incorrectly, by the way), and Sheelos-Wolf. An even bigger thank-you to mr. stranger for allowing me to borrow his character Haggerhaw. Lege et recense (read and review, in my incredibly faulty Latin)!
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The sand-colored hair of the hawk flew loosely in the breeze as he sat propped up against a tall tree in a field behind Castle Crimea. As he sat staring out at the rolling hills and small streams in the area, he had his arms wrapped around her. Lucia laid curled up in his lap, eyes closed and a serene smile gracing her lips. She had dozed off awhile ago, and since then, the man had been braiding portions of her hair out of boredom.
He had never known that spending time in a beorc nation could be so calming, so...joyful. For years he had disliked the beorc, the events of the Serenes Massacre still burning away in his mind, but Lucia...she had changed him - and for the better it seemed. She wasn't what he had imagined a beorc woman to be like. She was sweet and kind, friendly, considerate, ...everything you could ask a woman to be. She wasn't a stuck-up noble like the rest of her class. She was genuine and beautiful in every way.
He almost felt as though he was unworthy of her. She had other suitors, so the fact that she would choose to love him was beyond anything he could imagine. He wasn't a poet like Count Bastian, a knight like Lord Renning, or someone mysterious like Volke. He wasn't a strategic genius like Soren, a hero like Ike, or a royal like Pelleas. He wasn't the most powerful hawk like his king, or an intent and kind-hearted listener like his best friend. Then again, he wasn't a gambler like Makalov, or a cruel-hearted drunk like Shinon.
Whatever her reasoning for loving him was, it would just have to remain a mystery to him for at least a little while longer, he supposed.
Despite all his confusion over why she would pick him, there was one thing he knew for certain: last night was one of the happiest moments of his whole life. The night rivaled possibly even that of the day, all those years ago, when he saw one of his closest friends crowned the new king of Phoenicis.
Last night was a night of waltzing and catching up. He was never one for beorc dances, and he certainly didn't know the steps, but looking into Lucia's bright blue orbs made him feel as if he'd known the dance all his life. As they moved about, the hawk was able to see his king leading Lady Elincia to the dance floor, Geoffrey talking with an ecstatic Mist before leading her to the floor as well, and his best friend and Bastian off to themselves.
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Lucia winced as the hawk stepped on her foot for what was probably the tenth time.
"I'm sorry, Milady. This isn't working at all," he sighed.
She smiled. "Nonsense. You'll learn...it's not like my feet haven't been stepped on before, and it's not like I don't enjoy this more than being forced to waltz with Count Bastian all night and hearing all the compliments he so readily throws at me," she chuckled.
"Ah, maybe this will help," the hawk mused, fluttering his wings and moving ever so slightly off the ground.
"Janaff!" she exclaimed. "That's not fair at all."
"Isn't it?" he laughed, descending a few inches to land back on the floor next to her. "Better?"
"Yes," she answered, pecking him on the cheek. "Oh, speaking of Bastian, what is he doing at the moment?"
"Glaring at me, I'm afraid. His fists are clenched, and his 'pretty' mouth is wearing a frown," Janaff replied, a tinge of amusement in his voice.
"You honestly shouldn't torment him so, Janaff. He really isn't that bad... I mean, he can be annoying some--or most--of the time, but he has a good heart," the woman reminded him.
"So he does," the hawk mused, "but he hasn't your heart."
"You enjoy being difficult, don't you?" she teased him as the dance ended. "Well, now I think you shall have met your match - the minuet, milord?"
He smiled as she curtsied ever-so-slightly before him. "You want to teach me the minuet?" Janaff asked in disbelief. At her nod, he chuckled, "You really have your work cut out for you then, my dear."
"Anything for you," she replied concisely, already beginning to lead him in the first movement. She pulled her foot away at his misstep, his shoe nearly avoiding her toe. He smiled half-heartedly at his own efforts to learn this new beorc dance. She mouthed, "You'll learn," before he found himself partnered with Titania, and her with Renning.
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The blond man stopped before General Ike's Inn, grabbing the arm of the hawk-girl that had led him to this spot. "Milady Amber," the count said slowly, "say you do that a friend of yours awaits us inside the inn?"
The young woman nodded. "Yes," she replied, "Haggerhaw - though I wouldn't quite call him a friend, so to speak - can be found inside."
"If happens he does not to be a friend, then what does your reasoning for seeking him out happen to be?" the man queried, ducking swiftly behind a nearby barrel as a male customer descended the inn's steps.
"Stop acting like that, Bastian!" Amber demanded once the man had passed them, heading down the street without even a look back at the strange man hiding next to the young hawk. "No one is going to notice that you're here," she reasoned, trying to convince him to come out from behind the large, wooden object. She paused a moment, looking up and down at the count's attire. "On second thought, they might notice. However," she stressed the word, "no one is going to care that you are here. They'll just assume that it's on official business."
The man nodded a simple reply, sheepishly emerging from his hiding place. He darted his eyes around him, carefully observing the space for any familiar faces. "Should the glorious Lady Lucia witness my presence in such an unwholesome manner, her eyes would cast shame down upon my very being," he mumbled.
His companion sighed, once again picking the earlier topic up. "Anyway, Haggerhaw isn't exactly Janaff's biggest fan - considering he works for my uncle, so he should be more than willing to wreck his relationship, even if it means associating with the likes of...you," she scoffed.
Ignoring the lady's last comment, Bastian mumbled, "See I do." Thoughtfully, he inquired, "Say, this Haggerhaw...his profession is what?"
"Ah," the girl muttered as she began dragging Bastian toward the entrance of the bar. "He's a...recovery agent," she explained meekly. "You know, a fugitive recovery agent..."
"Fugitive recovery agent?" he mused aloud. "In the likeness of a bounty hunter?"
Amber nodded enthusiastically. "Precisely!" she exclaimed, a hint of nervousness in her voice as she pushed the door to Calill and Largo's inn open and disappeared inside.
"Dear Ashera, what have I gotten myself into?" Count Fayre muttered before following the hawk into the building.
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The foul stench of alcohol stung the count's nose, becoming his first impression of the inn as the man emerged in the dimly-lit business in the heart of Melior. His eyes scanned the room for any sign of the hawk princess, but she was nowhere to be found. Grudgingly, he stomped his way to the counter, where a large beorc man with violet hair was using his one arm to pour drinks into thick glass mugs.
"Count Fayre!" the man exclaimed upon seeing the blond man. "It isn't often that we see you around here. What brings ya?"
"Here I be on official business," he lied, uncomfortably scratching his arm as he recalled Amber's earlier comment. "In search of a man by the name of Haggerhaw I am."
The barkeep let out a hearty laugh. "Haggerhaw? That's a good one, Count!" he exclaimed, entering a coughing fit. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, in which Bastian nervously switched his weight from one foot to the other - fully debating whether or not he should just walk out and act as if nothing had happened - Largo raised his eyebrows. "You were serious, weren't you?" he asked in disbelief. The count nodded sheepishly. "Oh, he's over there," the former berserker informed him, pointing in the direction of the bar's southern-most corner. "Good luck," the barkeep added before brushing past the other man to go serve a customer.
Bastian turned slowly in the direction indicated by his fellow war veteran. He gulped as his eyes fell on a large hawk laguz sitting alone in the near-pitch-dark corner. A pointed cowboy hat that looked as if it was about to fall apart at the seams rested on the man's head; a necklace with a pair of dice dangling from it adorned his neck. The count noted that this particular laguz was slightly smaller in size than the hawk king, making him a significant deal larger than the count's rival - Janaff. Haggerhaw brushed some dust off of his leather jacket before his bored stare turned toward the count; upon noticing Bastian's gaze on him, he flashed a menacing grin.
Count Fayre's eyes widened upon this recognition. Dear Ashera...Amber, what have you done?