Chapter Two: The Romance Resumes
Yes I know there weren't venin axes in Chapter 19, but it's just something that little punk Homasa would do. Grrr, he probably got them from Naesala.
In the same timespace as the last chapter. They won't all be like that. They also won't have this crappy of endings. I'm SO BAD at narrating for nice people.
X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-
89. Heartbeat
Rhys woke suddenly, a very slight draft of cold air washing over his face. It didn't take much nowadays to shake him out of a sound sleep. While battle was better than sitting around waiting for people to get back, and he did enjoy the ability to actually know what had caused a particular wound (rather than guessing frantically)... having to actually attack people made him uneasy, even if it was with the goddess's light magic. He shivered, drawing his blankets closer: then he realized that the draft must have been from someone entering or leaving the tent.
He sat up, his head spinning from the sudden movement: no one had come inside, and he checked the beds. Blast! Soren was gone. Rhys sighed, flopping back down in resignment. Hopefully, the mage had left with someone sensible like Ike, anyway. If he was worse in the morning... Rhys wasn't sure what he'd do, since yelling didn't seem to have any effect on Soren. But it would be something terrible. Maybe keeping Lethe and Janaff away from each other...
At least it hadn't been Kieran: he was still peacefully passed out two cots down from Rhys, slack face relaxed in a smile for once. Rhys wondered that none of the other knights had stopped by to check on their fellow paladin. Maybe they already had, when he was asleep. Whatever the case, Rhys had to smile to himself, partly in self-congratulation at being the first person to ever get Kieran to shut up for more than four or five hours at a time.
He suddenly felt a cough rising up, and smothered the fit in the bedclothes. What on earth...? Oh. Someone had come in and moved the nearest water bowl a bit closer to him. He got up and moved the table away slightly, feeling the deep tingle of its herbs in his throat. Now he was certain Ike had come and gone: it was a kind gesture, and for someone who didn't know anything about healing it would make perfect sense. But there was a reason the bowls were spaced out: the eucalyptus was fine, but a little bit of the camphor mixed in with it went a long way.
Abruptly another draft blew in, this time from someone's entrance. Rhys felt his heart beat a little faster as Titania came over to him, shaking snow from her long mane and cloak. "Feeling better?" she asked softly. The light from the brazier was dim, but he thought her smile looked unsure.
"Yes," he answered, quite honestly, and stood to embrace her. "I needed sleep, mostly." He cocked his head to look at her; she was very still, almost unnaturally so, and as the two of them sat down together on his cot, it became very clear that her face was pale, her expression wavered, and there were definite circles under her eyes. "On the other hand... this is going to sound very rude, but you look terrible. Were the negotiations really all that horrible?"
"Ugh, yes," she groaned, with an immense sigh. "For one, it was in the middle of the battle, right? So we sent off Oscar, Mist, and Stefan to distract the Daeins. We would've sent Kieran, too, but we couldn't find him -" She shot a dirty look towards her fellow paladin, who was blissfully ignorant "-so we just hoped the other three would come back in one piece. Then that damn raven wouldn't talk to anyone except the hawks, who didn't want to talk to him in the first place, in the meantime he almost killed Mia, and Reyson threw a fit when Janaff finally gave in... and then, of course, a bunch of Daeins ran in and attacked us, and Ike had to practically drag Soren off the field because one of the warriors hit him with a venin axe and we had no staves or antitoxin." She threw her arms in the air. "So while Ike vanished for ten minutes, I held off the Daeins while all the birds argued... at least until Oscar and Stefan and Mist came back, then I had some help."
She was close to tears, and he put his arms around her, distressed. "I mean, I was distracted in the first place, but there's bad blood between the bird laguz that I don't even think Soren can guess, much less Ike and I, and I had no idea what I was supposed to do if things went the wrong way and the ravens started attacking us in earnest. I'm pretty powerful, but nowhere near that level."
"I'm sorry, love." He kissed her forehead. "It seems like the lieutenant commander's job is a lot harder than the commander's, sometimes."
"No, I don't mean that," she said, but wanly. "I don't blame Ike. I don't know. It was just..." She shrugged. "I was really scared."
The thought of her being scared unnerved him, and he felt a sudden burst of annoyance at Ike: but he instantly banished it, knowing that she was right. It had just been a bad situation, and he said as much. "Thanks to you, it went well, though."
"I didn't even notice you on the field," she said, muffled in his shoulder, where she'd collapsed. "Where were you?"
"Off with a grave robber and a professional thief. I would've had Boyd with me, but he disappeared, too," he answered, somewhat flatly. "It was a great day: I got to practice killing people, Shinon found money on several of the bodies, and Volke stole me three new staves. One of which I used up by the time the battle ended." She looked up at him, eyebrows contracted in disgust, and he smiled ruefully. "Well... I guess I shouldn't judge, huh?"
"No, I agree. I guess Volke is just doing his job, but sometimes Shinon disgusts me," she said, dropping her head again. "I'm sorry, Rhys - I think next time you should just stay with me, or at least with the other paladins."
"I suppose anybody who was in the Royal Knights respects the enemy dead. And maybe the bird laguz would find me soothing, in my wimpiness," he added, trying to make her smile. But it didn't help. He hesitated, then asked, "Titania, what's bothering you? I guess I should really say 'what's been bothering you.' You're not just stressed out about war strategy and battles: I've noticed a change in you over the last couple of weeks. And most of the time you're all right, even under stress like this."
She was silent for a moment. Then she sighed. "I... I don't want to say it's personal. Because you know I don't have any secrets from you."
"I know," he murmured confidently, and she finally laughed.
"Yes. You know. But this is one of those things... and I don't know why it's been bothering me lately. It's one of those things that you don't... that you can't tell anybody. You don't even want to think about it yourself." He was surprised to feel a tear drip onto the front of his robes, and moving her away from him, saw that she was finally crying. "And I especially can't tell you, because... because..."
"Titania," he said gently, and she sniffed, rubbing her eyes and looked embarrassed. "You don't have to tell me. You really don't. But if it's going to upset you this much... I swear, there's nothing you could say that would change the way I see you. Not just because I love you, either. I know we haven't known each other for a terribly long time, but you're a good person. You can tell me anything." He paused, then added, "If you want to."
"Not here," she said after a moment. He frowned, confused, and she closed her eyes. "I... no one can know this, even by accident. Can we...?"
"Let's go to your tent," he said, gently, and she put her arms around him gratefully. "Just let me put some shoes on."
"I'm not going to say that I hate winter, but..." he said as she helped him up, laughing a little as he brushed the snow from his face. Some careless person had left a broken axe handle lying in the path, and he had tripped on it, gotten his hands tangled in his robes, and landed face-first in the deepening snow.
"Come on, my tent is right here," she said, giggling somewhat hysterically. "Are you all right?"
"Fine, just clumsy." The goddess, it was freezing out here! He shivered, despite himself.
She'd been out all day, so her fire was unlit, but the inside of the tent was nevertheless warmer than outside. He hung his cloak from the ceiling pole, and she obligingly made a very undignified 'eek' noise as he shook his hair, scattering snow. "Brrr," she said, and immediately pulled out a striking stone to light a small fire in the copper reservoir.
He put out a hand to stop her, and said softly, "Don't." She caught his expression, and smiled a little, and settled for lighting a candle.
Officers had lovely wide cots, he had noticed wryly a few weeks back, quite suitable for two to lie down on side-by-side. They stripped and did that now: with a pair of blankets over them, and the snow blanketing the outside of the tent so that it was completely silent, the tent became very cozy. He slid his arms around her waist, nuzzling the back of her neck. This was the first time he could remember feeling warm all over since the summer. "All right. Out with it."
She started a bit, then sighed. After a moment, she answered, "I don't know why I haven't told you this yet. Because you're one of the only people I've ever met who just... who doesn't judge anyone, really. I know you don't always like everyone, but you don't tell them unless you have to."
"Can't help it," he said, a little cautiously. Was this going to be a whopper of a secret? He didn't know everything in her past, of course, but from how busy she always was he doubted she had time in her life for scandals. Maybe a family problem had recurred...
"So I guess I was just hesitating because... your opinion matters the most to me." She rolled over to face him, and her clear eyes were troubled. "I would be devastated if Ike never spoke to me again, or if Oscar was really angry with me for it, but..." Her hand came up to his face, and his unease increased as she swallowed, clearly terrified. "I don't quite know what I'd do if I lost your good opinion. Even just to have you not speak to me anymore would be beyond my imagination."
"As well it should be," he said firmly, simultaneously thrilled to find that someone actually found him important, and also wondering what the hell could be this serious. "I said it before, I'll say it again: short of telling me you killed Ike's parents, or that you're Rolf's mother, you don't have to worry. I love you. Tell me."
As soon as he mentioned Ike's parents she stiffened: and he suddenly knew what it was. His heart leapt. "Okay." She took a deep breath. "I need to find out how Commander Greil died. But Ike hasn't yet told us, and I don't know how to ask him, because I'm too involved. I was... I was in love with him. With Greil." As if Rhys needed to guess whether she was talking about Ike or his father. He put his arms around her, and she went on, bravely, though she was crying, "I would have done anything for Ike, because I knew exactly how he felt. But... but I have to know! And now you're going to think... oh, I don't even know!"
Her strong shoulders shook as she wept, and he held her, marveling that she'd managed to keep it secret for this long. No one else in the mercenaries, at least, knew, he was fairly sure, and he certainly had kept it to himself.
"Titania," he said finally, very quietly. "It's all right." She sniffled and looked up at him. "I... well, I already knew. About you and Greil."
"What? How!?" she asked, horrified. "Did you... did someone else tell you?"
He shook his head, smiling. "No. No, of course not. It was the very first day we met. You were so ill you were delirious. I didn't know Shinon and Gatrie at the time, so I never told them about it... but you said Greil's name." Several times, in fact.
She was silent, then laughed a little. "I guess I did."
"Yes." He wiped away one of her tears with a fingertip, and added, "When you invited me to come back and join the mercenaries, I found out pretty quick just why you loved him, too. He was..." Rhys shrugged, and finished, "He was the greatest man I've known yet."
"And you don't feel...?" She let the question hang, apparently unable to find the right word.
He shook his head, smiling. "Of course not. That had nothing to do with me, and it still doesn't, really. I felt all the worse for you when he died, because no one would bat an eye if Ike suddenly went off in a sulk, and or if Mist would cry for no reason sometimes. But you had to stay calm and keep a clear head, just like Soren and Oscar and I, even though I could see you were suffering much more than you let on. Besides," he added, pulling her closer, "if anything, I should be complimented. If I'm good enough to follow Commander Greil in your heart, that's more than consolation for perhaps being supplanted by him every once in a while."
"Oh," was all she said, but she rolled over and buried her face in his shoulder, arms tight around him. She said, muffled, "Ike knows."
"He does?" Rhys asked, startled. Well, apparently he'd been mistaken. "Then why are you worried about anyone else finding out? He wasn't mad, was he?"
"No, he wasn't mad at all, and I didn't even tell him really, he just... guessed. He thanked me for helping his father keep the mercenary troop together, and... then..." She shrugged helplessly. "He asked me if it was because of that, and I just couldn't answer."
It took Rhys a moment to get his face under control, and to say with composure, "Um, Titania? If Ike managed to guess... it's a good possibility a few of the others might have guessed, too."
She snorted, and the tickling sensation of it against his bare chest made him squirm. "Ooh! Don't do that! I just... I mean, you know Ike. He's fairly intuitive, but... the goddess, if he knows, Soren certainly does."
"Ugh, that's an unpleasant thought," she muttered.
"Maybe. But he keeps secrets better than anyone else."
"I suppose so." They were silent for a while; it was rare moments like these that he felt sublimely grateful, and in the place between sleep and wakefulness, he heard her ask softly, "Is it unfair of me to judge Ike by his father?"
Opening his eyes, he saw that she was still wide awake, but staring blankly through him. "To...to judge Ike?"
"The mercenaries..." she added quietly, "We never did things on a grand scale like this. We always worked to help people. That was what Greil always did, he tried to find people and help them. Like Oscar and Boyd and Rolf. They were at the end of their rope, and he gave them a home, something to live for. And whenever we took jobs, it was always just to help out. Sometimes we didn't even get paid, we just wanted to be there when people had no one else to turn to."
"Like Elincia." He was fully awake again, and what she said had suddenly struck a nerve. She was right, of course: but somehow he felt as if she was on the wrong track.
"Yes, like Elincia," she agreed, absentmindedly. She paused, then went on, "But here we are, fighting for glory and honor and the money of royalty."
"We're still fighting for Elincia. For her, and the others of Crimea who have no one else to turn to." Her eyes finally met his, and he added, "It might be a paying job, but Ike isn't getting anything out of it that you and I aren't. He doesn't want honor and glory any more than his father did. Maybe even less, especially since he's so young. When the war's over... well, it will all go back to normal, won't it?"
After a moment of consideration, her eyes changed. "Well..." Rhys didn't know a lot about Greil's past, only that he had once been a great warrior in Daein, then in Gallia, until his wife's death. But he was willing to bet that Ike was far less happy about his lordship than he ever let on. "I guess you're right."
"Titania. This might come as kind of an insult, but..." Rhys bit his lip, then plunged ahead. "You don't have to take on Greil's responsibility as a father, or even Elena's as a mother. It's all right for Mist to see you like that, because she's still a child - no, don't disagree, I've seen the two of you chattering before - but Ike is ready for whatever comes. He's much more mature than he was a year ago, and as someone from outside the situation, he's very, very much like his father. Maybe it's by necessity, but he's going to lead this army, and do it well."
She buried herself in his arms. "I know," she whispered. "You're right."
They slept for a while; on the rare occasion, she humored him by letting her hair out of its braid. Tonight she'd done so, and since they were wearing nothing else and the tent was very cold he was grateful for it. The glossy locks were invisible in the darkness (the candle having gone out), spilling across both of them and pillowing her head on his chest. Very gently, he ran a finger through it, marvelling that she could go into battle and take this hair with her, yet it always came out like silk.
"I can hear your heart," she murmured suddenly, nuzzling against him and sighing. He smiled, suddenly feeling a little sad. "I honestly don't think I've ever listened to it before." It was true: they were usually too exhausted when together to do much more than briefly make love and sleep.
"It's not terribly impressive," he answered.
There was a contented silence as she listened for awhile; he closed his eyes against the utter darkness and listened to his own heartbeat. It was pitiful, in his opinion: too quick, and sometimes irregular. It seemed to magnify in the muffled, snow-covered silence, and he wished her heartbeat would take over instead. He imagined the blood flowing through her veins, coursing confidently and surely throughout her body; it was probably used to being occasionally lost, and was all the stronger for it.
She abruptly sniffled, and he realized she was crying again; as he touched her face he felt the tears, seeping into her hair. "I'm sorry," she said before he could say anything, her fingers clutching into his waist. "Do you feel this way when I get hurt?"
He thought for a moment, and answered, "Usually when you're hurt... and this is mostly from having seen it so many times... first I feel a little bit of panic, but it's pretty much the same as when anyone else is injured. Then I try and get rid of that feeling, so peace will come to me for the healing. And then... there's just gratitude that you're well again."
"And if I didn't get well again?"
Her voice was unsteady, and her arms tightened around him again, almost to the point of discomfort. He suddenly realized what she was talking about. "Oh, Titania."
She said nothing, just pressed her face to his chest and cried. He was pretty sure that he was the only person who ever saw her this fragile, and he hated it. It wasn't so much the fact that she could be that fragile, or even that it was his burden to bear - certainly not that, he'd much rather it be his own than anyone else's - but merely because it broke his heart.
Still... he folded his arms around her. It was all well and good that she was worried over him, but he'd just as soon hear about Greil again than have her crying over his miserable health. "It's not all bad. Sometimes I feel positively strong, although that's usually when I'm angry with someone."
She sniffed, and he vaguely heard, "...n't know you could get angry."
"That's because it's never at you." He kissed the top of her head, adding in the most disgusted voice he could summon, "Right now it's Soren. If he ran off and died in the snow I take no responsibility for Crimea's defeat by Daein. The birds will peck each other to death and then turn on us if he dies and leaves us with no tactician."
Finally she laughed, lifting her head. "I'm sure he's with the commander. Ike said earlier that he was going back to the healing tent as soon as he could get rid of the Begnion pegasus knights."
"Speaking of the healing tent, I should be getting back there."
"Nooooo," she said in a low voice, and moved upwards for a long, slow kiss. Finally she added, "You'd have to put on your clothes again, and to do that you'd have to get up, and then you'd have to go outside, and you don't want to do that, it's so coooold..."
Rhys laughed. "Did I mention that I love you?"
Eventually they did get up and go outside, and back to the tent. There was just too much at stake; with a tent full of injured soldiers, he felt a responsibility to stick around and make sure no emergencies took place. In general, they didn't, but he didn't want to hear about them later from anyone else.
The tent was expectedly quiet. After quietly bidding Titania goodnight, Rhys was just about to lie back down when he heard a quiet cough. "Um," said Ike's voice, and Rhys froze. "Evening."
Rhys paused for a moment; thank the goddess, at least Soren was fast asleep - or at least pretending. So much for no one knowing about him and Titania. He felt a sudden stab of pride, and with great dignity folded his cloak, laying it down on his pillow. Who cared if everyone knew? So much the better for them to know that Titania was happy. "It is precisely what you think it is." Ike cocked an eyebrow, and with a flush Rhys hastily added, "Um, as long as you think that it's.." Oh, dear.
Ike looked as if he were about to explode with laughter, but managed to keep it in, cheeks pink. "I try not to think too hard about anything that isn't my business," he said, and Rhys felt an immense surge of relief. "And as long as she doesn't get her head chopped off in battle worrying about you, it really isn't any of my business."
She wouldn't, Rhys thought immediately. Not because she didn't care enough about him - but because she knew better than to jeopardize everyone else's lives by worrying far too much about one other person. But he didn't know how to say it; and suddenly he wondered how Ike must feel, if indeed he did know that Titania had been in love with his father. "Sorry," he said, feeling a little confused, and was grateful when Ike came forward and briefly embraced him. "Sorry that I didn't tell you, or anyone. She just... we seem to be right for each other right now. Which doesn't make much sense."
And it really didn't, did it? It seemed like the last person Titania would have a relationship was a mild-mannered healer (Rhys didn't have any delusions about himself, anyway)... but perhaps... "It doesn't have to make sense. And anyway, you're the reason she's still alive and fighting with us."
Rhys looked at Ike, who steadily looked back, and he suddenly felt a rush of pride. It was true: the Greil Mercenaries might not have survived for much longer, had Titania died that day over a year ago, much less become the Crimean Liberation Army. He grinned. "I guess so. Ike... thanks."
Ike shrugged. "For what? You know me. I like everybody... well, except the Begnion senators." He yawned, and I almost thought I saw him peeking backwards at Soren as he covered his mouth ostentatiously. "Well... Mmphm. I think I'd better get to bed before I end up sleeping here. See you in a few hours - and feel better."
For a moment Rhys could have laughed out loud. Ike, the eternally casual commander. But the difference between him and others was that he really did care. "Thanks. Sleep well," he said as Ike stepped out of the tent.
What a night. Rhys glanced around - all of the soldiers were breathing deeply and peacefully now, the braziers down to a faint glow and the eucalyptus scent gentler than before. It felt like the calm before the storm, but for some reason Rhys didn't think it would be. He laid back down on his cot, rolling up in the covers, and smiled to himself. It was amazing how different people could be, and yet still understand one another.
Fin.