A/N Will probably update more tomorrow night. I've gotten so much written already, there's just this one… part… that I have not been able to get the way I want just yet. It refuses to be written. I don't own Fire Emblem or any of its alternate timeline forms.
A void of darkness. Eyes closed. A grassy feeling underneath. Cool breezes, carrying the scent of him. His voice.
"...recovered fully? Let me see." A shifting of movement, and the man next to her closed the small distance between them.
"I'm feeling well, thank you," she responded kindly.
Still, he attempted to inspect her bandaged torso. Earlier, her body had been bleeding profusely after an enemy's weapon had slashed through her side. Now though, the wounds underneath were nearly healed, with only time needed to erase the damage. Only strenuous movement actually caused any real pain.
She swatted his hand away playfully. "Really, love, I'm fine. You worry too much over a few cuts."
He retracted his hands from her stomach and settled one over her right hand. "I do not," he protested quietly. "I have never seen you that hurt in battle. That was a very serious wound. I feared… I feared the worst."
He was worried. His concern for her made her heart soar. As bad as it was due to the circumstances, she still felt a giddiness just from knowing that the stoic, seemingly emotionless tactician cared about her.
"Psht, at this rate, if that happens, who knows how you'll ever cope?" she kidded uncharacteristically, high on happiness. "Trust me when I say that it will take a lot more than that to get rid of me." There was a tense silence as his hand on hers subtly tightened.
"Swear to it?" He was only half-joking, at most.
Her heart warmed, and she could feel a small smile creep up. There was only one answer to him, always. Head on his shoulder, she kept her eyes closed as she crossed her heart and hoped to never die.
"Of course I will. I… e..."
Adriane's eyes fluttered open, voices echoing in her head.
She was greeted with a shadowy sort of light, the kind produced indoors and away from direct sunlight. She was lying on a flat mattress with a coarse, cotton blanket draped over her form. Her sword and scabbard were gone from around her waist, something that made her feel even more vulnerable and endangered.
But no. This is Ylisstol, isn't it? That redhead… Severa. She ordered me in. She ordered for me to be taken care of.
Adriane forced herself to relax before sitting up.
Now, where am I? she thought hazily, rubbing her eyes free from sleep.
It seemed to be a hospital room of some sort. Against the walls, Adriane could see beds similar to the one she had-patched-up, old, and barely comfortable. About half of them were occupied with similarly injured persons, but it seemed as if only the blue haired warrior was awake.
Good. Time to go.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the small pinpricks of pain in her injured left leg. Strange. For some inexplicable reason, she found it strange that it was her leg that was in pain, and not... something else. Her hand shifted upwards from her leg.
Adriane then put a little weight on her leg to test the waters, and couldn't hold back a hiss of pain as her muscles protested. It seemed as if she wasn't as healed as she thought she was. Adriane supposed it was better than bleeding out, but the injury would certainly slow her down. Coupled with her lack of a weapon, she was effectively handicapped. Violence was what she was trained for, after all, not… this infiltration.
But no matter. Even unarmed and in strange territory, even thrust into strange situations, she could still accomplish Grima's will and sabotage whatever the Ylisseans' plan was. She had the will, the determination.
In any case, it was imperative that she slip into anonymity as soon as possible. From the battle on the bridge, she had seen Noire. Luckily the archer bitch had already been struck down by Adriane's arrival, but if Adriane had survived the skirmish with her wounds, there was a high chance that the archer could have too. Noire would recognize the human Risen commander. With a pointed finger from one of their own, the Ylisseans would kill her on sight, regardless of her actions with Severa. Her cover could be blown.
It was best to lie low until Noire was dead.
She put a little pressure on her leg again and hissed at the sensation of phantom spikes jamming themselves into her skin,
"Ey, no movin' that leg! Didn't 'cha learn from your first try?" barked a voice to her left.
Surprised that someone else was awake, the blue-haired woman turned and faced a man around her age, maybe a little older. With his spiked auburn hair and a scar over one eye, it was hard to discern his age. He was hunched over so that that he standing up and she sitting on the bed were the same height.
He was giving her a stern and admonishing look, but despite his gruff exterior, Adriane was given the sense that the brute didn't mean her any harm. Especially considering-she quickly checked him over-his loose cloth robes and healer's staff. She withheld any outer judgment and said nothing.
The man seemed to accept that and simply said, "Wait yer turn, I didn't expect ya to be up so darn soon," before turning his wide back to her to work on a patient.
From her angle she couldn't see the face of the patient, but she glimpsed a petite frame and pallid skin. Seemed familiar. She narrowed her eyes.
The healer raised the staff over the body, muttering several incantations. The healing device emitted a soft green light that seemed to hover plaintively over the patient, before slowly sinking into the body. The pale skin seemed to turn just the slightest bit rosier as the healing process was facilitated.
He leaned further down onto the body, pulling up the blanket as he did so. On the way up, he fluffed the pillow. Finally, he turned to face her, shifting his person so that Adriane still could not see the patient's face.
"I'm sorry," he started. "Like I said, I didn't think ya'd be up so soon, what with that leg and all. I'll needa check yer leg to see how the magic has taken root. I'm Brady, by the way."
"Pleasure," Adriane said dryly. She tugged the blanket covering her leg to the side and managed to remain calm despite the sight that awaited her.
A long, jagged red line ran along her thigh. The skin looked weak and barely grown-it was so thin that Adriane could see the red of her blood lying underneath.
"Usually my healing works better than this, lady," he muttered. He reached out a hand towards her leg, but stopped short instinctively. "May I?" the healer asked, sounding uncharacteristically formal and practiced.
"You're the healer. Do as you must," Adriane said calmly. Very. Calmly. It was all she could do to keep from growling out the words.
Brady nodded and laid his palm flat on her skin, closing his eyes. Adriane watched as first his brow furrowed as he searched, then shot up in surprise. "Woah, lady," he exclaimed, shocked. "Good news-ya don't have any internal bleeding. All of the inside stuff has been taken care of, but for some odd reason, ya have some crazy high resistance to magic. I've never seen anything like it in my life. I guess that's why yer leg wasn't healing as quickly as it should. Yer body rejected a lot of my magic. Why's it like that?"
Adriane closed her eyes, remembering exactly why. Exposure. Constant exposure. It had all been a part of her training, her taking magic attacks from the Risen sages, sorcerers, mages of both light and dark, Morgan, and on one occasion him. Starting out with just the short reaches of the arcane, the spells and attacks had slowly amped up with power as her body grew accustomed to the abuse. And evolved to stay alive.
Back before Grima's reign, Ylisse heavily employed mages in its military campaigns, as the magic users were valued for their versatility in battle. She had to be ready, and Master Grima had made sure that she had every… advantage. But there was no way she'd tell this incompetent healer that.
Well, maybe. Right before she would kill him, someday.
"I do not wish to speak of it," she murmured darkly, "I am who I am because of the actions of the past." None of this would have happened if those dogs hadn't murdered them.
Brady nodded his head in understanding. "Okay, that's fine if ya dun' wanna talk 'bout it." He lapsed into an awkward silence before perking up. "Oh-I forgot to tell you. Thanks fer helpin' out my friend Severa. I checked her earlier and she didn't have as many injuries as she should have, fight like that and all," he said happily. Kindness and compassion for his friend shone on his face.
His friend. He was close to that high ranking Ylissean. As Brady smiled at her with his eyes closed, Adriane studied him once more. Sure he may not look like much, but with the age similarities… he could know something.
Adriane bowed her head humbly. "It was nothing, sir. I only wish that I was able to do more for this world… with Grima on the verge of victory, I lose hope in ever reclaiming these lands," she sighed mournfully. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and saw him scrunching up his face with indecision.
Time to seal the deal. "I used to fight for my friends, my family-" he flinched. So that was it- "but the Grimleal took it all away from me-" justifiably "-a long time ago. These days, it feels as if there is nothing to live for. Nothing will get better." For you all, so just give up.
Brady exhaled, his breath coming out shakily. He gave her a nervous grin whilst fidgeting his fingers in contemplation. The blue-haired woman looked down to conceal her incriminating expression.
Finally… "Listen, lady. I'm not actually s'posed to tell anybody this, ya hear, but ya needa know that ya can't give up. Not now, especially not tonight. Naga has a plan. There's this shield, you see…"