Briefly: this is set quite a while after Radiant Dawn and was initially going to begin with Rhys dying... because like it or not, all beorc are someday going to get old.

Yeah. But that initial fic literally sent me into a crying fit, so I started again. In any case, this is a romantic, sad, wholly self-gratifying fic because I'm feeling super crappy this week. Beware of extreme quicksand-like squishiness.

Edit: have deleted the standalone because it just makes more sense to add the following chapter to the 100 challenge.

~~ Songbirds ~~

Titania couldn't remember having felt this helpless in years. The advantage of the Mercenaries treating one another like family was that, when something bad did happen, no one had to share the grief alone. If someone's sister took ill, or their parents died in a far-off place, or even if hailstones killed their favorite horse... that person could always find a shoulder to cry on.

But sometimes a sympathetic ear wasn't enough. Titania looked down at the man she'd married fifteen years ago, stroking his cheek with a gentle hand. It was agony to just sit by and watch when he suffered—which nowadays was more often than not. She wanted to cry, scream, bash the living daylights out of the guilty party with the biggest axe she could find. Unfortunately, with chronic illness there was never a bad guy to chase down, no one at all to blame.

She looked out the window. A couple of the bird laguz were outside, making a detour visit on their way into Gallia. Titania felt a momentary stab of jealousy at their youthful antics. They were probably both well into their triple digits, but both birds were rolling and tumbling in the sunshine with Mist's sons, all of them laughing like crazy.

The sounds carried perfectly through the open window. Titania could hear Boyd, yelling something. The insects chirped in the fields; a light breeze wafted the mingled scent of fresh-cut hay and perfect summer sunshine across the room.

She felt tears stand in her eyes, and fiercely brushed them away. Oh, sure. She could go talk to Mist... or Gatrie... or Rolf... or any of the others. Any one of them would boil her a cup of tea, listen patiently as she sobbed, or give her fumbling but earnest advice.

Titania didn't want that. She wanted to tell Rhys how she felt.

That was the worst part. Not even the watching and waiting, or even knowing that the end may or may not be near: no, the most agonizing part was that the only person who would usually understand, who wouldn't even have to say a word... he was the one she couldn't talk to this time. She suddenly felt the acute terror of a person lost in a foreign land, with no one who knew her language.

There was a soft knocking at the door, and Titania turned to see Mist peeking in her head. She didn't say a word; just smiled tentatively. Titania smiled in return, and beckoned her in.

"How are you?" Mist asked softly.

Titania looked away, wanting to just lie down and cry. "I'm fine, thank you, Mist. It sounds like your boys are having fun."

Mist snorted, crossing her arms. Titania noticed a smear of flour down one side of the young woman's button nose: it must be baking day. "Those idiots... they wrecked the new fence Gatrie was putting up. And then Boyd. He's out there yelling at them for doing stupid stuff he's probably done a hundred times."

"I could be wrong," Titania said wryly, "but isn't that what fathers are supposed to do? Try in vain to keep their kids from doing the same stupid things they did?"

Mist giggled. Titania sometimes found it hard to believe that this slender mother was the same child she'd held in her arms. Now wasn't one of those times, though. "I guess. My dad said that he'd done lots of the same stuff Ike did." Suddenly changing gears, Mist said seriously, "I mean it, though. Are you all right?"

Her blue eyes rested now on Rhys's peacefully sleeping face, and the gaze was not lost on Titania. She took a deep breath. "No. Yes. I..." She sighed. "I don't have to explain. You know what it would be like."

"Yes," Mist said after a moment, with a tinge of regret in her voice. "Yes, I've come close before." They were both silent for a moment; Titania remembered the first time Boyd had almost been killed in a fight. These things happened more often than anyone expected. "I'm so sorry, Titania. I wish I could say something to make you feel better, but... Rhys wouldn't want me to lie."

Titania couldn't say anything for a moment, and involuntarily put a hand to her mouth. Mist looked pained, so she made an effort to smile and say, "I know."

Mist swallowed, waiting. When Titania didn't say anything else, and it was clear that no explosion of tears was forthcoming, the younger woman took a deep breath, summoning a matching smile. "Well, I'll keep the kettle warm, if you want to come out into the kitchen for a bit. I'm... I think I'm going to go upstairs and pray." She smiled, and Titania could see the tenderness in her eyes. "For both of you."

Wordlessly, Titania reached out and pressed Mist's hand. The younger woman bent down over the bed, gently kissing the priest's forehead, and left as quietly as she'd come.

Titania looked out the window again; as the door closed, she closed her eyes, feeling the tears slowly trickle unchecked down her face.

She did eventually go to the common room later that afternoon, just to find some food and share a cup of tea with the two hawks. They'd all been spending too much time with their laguz friends, she reflected. It was almost second nature to expect no one to sicken or die. Like these two exuberant birds, everyone would stay young forever.

As she waited, back in her place by the head of the bed, Titania felt exhaustion tugging at her. She'd been awake all night, after all. She crossed her arms on the bedspread, laying her cheek on them, and before she knew it she had fallen asleep. Strange dreams crept through her mind, of people she'd never met and battles she'd never fought.

Suddenly she felt someone's hand running through her hair; startled, and not entirely sure where she was, Titania sat up, thrashing. She looked over to see her husband, his thin face exhausted, yet beaming with happiness at seeing her.

"Sorry," said Rhys, sounding a little sheepish. "You just looked so sweet, I couldn't resist."

"No, it's all right," she said automatically. Then Titania realized that she wasn't still sleeping, and felt a real and genuine smile coming over her face; she reached out to take his hand. "I hate to sound like a broken record, but how are you feeling?"

"Just fine," he said cheerfully. "Sleeping always does me good."

Titania knew he was lying, of course: there was no way to mask the lines pain had carved on either side of his nose and mouth. But it was so easy just to let his voice fool her: and he did look better, much more alert and with better color. "Your voice is back, too."

"I should probably thank Mist for that," Rhys said, very seriously. "I don't know where she got the recipe, but that tonic she mixed up made the coughing vanish right away."

Titania didn't have the heart to tell him what had really been in that tonic: how far Mist had sent for some of the ingredients, and that the tonic was probably the only reason he had been able to sleep. So she just nodded, trying to look as happy as possible. "That's good." To see him awake and smiling should be enough, right?

My problem, Titania thought, is that I'm not used to this slow process. And that was probably the real issue for all the Mercenaries. When someone died, it was sudden and at the hands of an enemy: Commander Greil, all those years ago, and friends they knew in the Crimea area... there had been no time to plan her feelings.

Anger and grief were always acceptable responses to someone's death when they were lost in battle. But when Rhys and Mist had finally decided that his illness was probably terminal, they had both exhibited almost a sense of relief. Titania hated that. She couldn't bear to see him suffer, but neither could she be like anyone else, and look forward to a time when he would be in a "better place," whatever the hell that meant.

"I can't—" she blurted out, then closed her lips again, embarrassed to think that she'd almost revealed herself. Hastily, she added, "I swear my clothes are clean... can I crawl in with you?"

Rhys laughed. "Silly. It's half your bed, of course you can." Titania reached down to pull off her boots—she hadn't been outdoors in two days, so even they were clean—and slid under the covers, nestling carefully next to him.

As she put an arm around him, he said, "Mmm, you're even warm, too."

The agony of what that statement really meant (that even in the late days of summer, he was cold) ate at her; she tried to stop herself, hiding her face under his chin as the one tiny tear snuck out. She sniffed, trying to stay silent. There was a sigh, and Rhys said, "You may have exactly one minute to cry. If it lasts any longer, I'm kicking you out, half your bed or not."

His tone, both mocking and gentle, finally made her laugh and cry all at the same time, clinging to him like a forlorn child. She let herself have the minute of tears, letting them fall unchecked.

When at last they stopped of their own accord, she wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so stupid."

"No. No, you're not," he said, even more gently than before. "You just need to stop torturing yourself, Tia."

She couldn't remember the last time he'd called her that: probably years. "I know." She sniffled one last time, and sighed. The sounds of night were coming on, as the sunlight faded; she could hear a nightingale singing in the tree near the window. Reaching up carefully, she laid her fingertips on his chest. "Much pain today?"

He gave the tiniest of shrugs, and put his hand over hers, his fingers cold and fragile. "Less than yesterday. You look exhausted—you stayed here all night, didn't you?"

Titania felt herself blushing. Why, after fifteen years of marriage, did she still feel so ridiculous when she was caught? "Well... yes."

But how could she have helped herself? Yesterday Rhys had insisted, with typical stubborn selflessness, that he should spend some time out in the common room, instead of making everyone come to visit him. And since she couldn't say no to anything he ever asked, Titania had helped him out of the room. He was too weak to stay long—an hour or so, most of that ecstatic glee on the part of some students who'd shown up—and the short trip, just up and down the hallway, had made him terribly sick.

Somewhere around nightfall, she'd been able to put away the basin, to tuck the covers around him as the pain came back, forcing frustrated tears from his eyes. Mist's tonic, again had done wonders, and finally he'd fallen asleep. But Titania had been so afraid: she herself was a wild sleeper and didn't dare crawl into bed with him, but she was so terrified that if she left...

"Thank you," he said now, unexpectedly, and with a finger moved her face so that he could kiss her. "Waking up with you here... whenever I'm with you, it feels all right."

Titania hiked herself up on an elbow to look at Rhys; as always, she felt better at the light shining in his eyes, at his incongruously bright shock of hair, just as orange as the day they'd met. The memory of that day flitted across her mind, as it had quite often as of late. "We're really strange, aren't we?" she said, absently. "Whenever one of us is weak, the other is always strong."

He nodded. She could sense him hesitating to add something, and raised her eyebrows. "Oh, all right," he said at last, laughing. "It's just... there's not a lot of time left. Doing stuff I never got to do, well, that's just too bad. But there are things I need to tell you, and..."

And you know I might start incoherently sobbing, Titania thought guiltily. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath; when she opened her eyes again, she could smile at him, without any hesitation. "I know. You don't want me to panic, and start crying. I won't... not now, if it's a good time."

There was a silence, as he gathered his thoughts. The nightingale had paused, as well, and now it began singing again, as if it knew what he was thinking. "I'm sorry for so many things, mostly. That... that I couldn't give you any children... all the times you were so worried—goddess, for right now, that you're so worried, about stupid things like even just touching me..."

She saw he was close to tears, and wanted to kick herself for being so obvious. "Titania, I want to give you all the love in the world. But I'm a selfish child, and I want all of it to come from me. You've been hurt so badly in the past, and I'm so sorry that I'm just another black mark on that long list."

"Oh—" Titania said, unable to help herself. "Oh, Rhys... you're not..." His tears had spilled, and she found herself kissing them away, pressing her face to his. "You could never just be that. You've never hurt me, ever. And if I'm worried for you now, it's only because I love you more than ever before."

He put his arms around her suddenly—although she knew it must have hurt dreadfully—and they embraced for a long time before she heard his voice in her ear, low and earnest. "And I love you."