Disclaimer: Fire Emblem and Kid Icarus do not belong to us. They belong to Nintendo.
Chapter 6: Adagio
If she hadn't had more pride in her ability to christen, Pip might have been stuck with the name "Shadow".
She'd hear the other knights whisper under their breath as she walks by, the dark winged angel following in her wake.
"He's always following her. Like a second shadow."
"Wonder why?"
"It's kinda creepy."
She's grown used to ignoring the barbs. But these comments have the novelty of, well, novelty. She can feel her patience grow thinner and thinner. Already much weighs on her mind: the growing tensions with Plegia, the Risen, Captain Chrom being awa-
Once or twice, she'd thought to ask - perhaps even demand - that Pip stop following her. But at the heels of these thoughts followed others.
'The boy is contrarian enough that he'd do the opposite of anything she asked him.'
'In fact, he was probably hoping for such a reaction, knowing him.'
'Or maybe he's lonely…'
And that, much like a vulture, the boy would capitalize ruthlessly on any perceived weakness.
Like such.
"Is there a reason you aren't buddy buddy with the rest of these knights?" Pip asks.
They are on the castle walls. Or, rather, she is on patrol on the castle walls. Pip is perched on a rampart, watching her.
"Please get off," she repeats.
"You didn't answer my question," he fires back.
She resists the urge to sigh. Pip had already loudly commented on her tendency to sigh - in front of several of her seniors no less.
The memory of the laughter that had followed nearly makes her face burn.
"I don't understand what you mean," she says stiffly, keeping her face blank.
Pip's red eyes bore into hers, and it's almost like being under Commander Phila's scrutiny.
"You train alone, unless it's to spar. You take lunch in the courtyard, away from the others," he begins to list.
"I simply prefer a peaceful lunch," she begins.
"And the training alone?" he counters, leaning towards her. She resists the urge to reach out and pull him to the safety of the walkway. "What, you think you're better than the rest of them?"
"Not at all," she almost snaps, before closing her eyes and taking a breath.
Pip's still staring at her when she opens her eyes.
"In any case, why are you so curious?" she nearly demands.
"No reason," Pip's shrug is the peak of nonchalance, "Just bored."
"That's no reason to bother me while I'm working," she begins sternly.
"Yeah, yeah," Pip waves a hand flippantly before hopping off of his perch, "I'll get out of your hair for now."
She watches as Pip walks away, pursing her lips and wondering if she should call after him.
Later, she would curse herself for not paying closer attention to his words.
A ripple passes through the pegasus knights' training grounds. A disturbance that Cordelia doesn't notice, focused as she is on her spear work-
-till she was jarred out of focus by a black staff interrupting her swing.
She stumbles back, the blow jolting up her arm, and her frown only deepens as Pip steps into her field of vision. He smirks at her, twirling his staff as if it was a baton.
"What's the meaning of this?" she demands, exasperated.
"Got bored," Pip's grin is sharp, and there's a definite spark in his eyes, "So I'm going to fight you now."
Cordelia stares at the young angel, at a loss for words. Pip's grin grows, and he points the heavier end - the part he normally holds - of his staff towards her. Gripped as it is, the staff seems more a cludgel.
"In the spirit of fairness," he says loftily, "I won't shoot you. Doubt I'd even need to, to be honest," he laughs.
"Are you crazy?" she responds, "I'm not just going to fight you!"
"Think of it like sparing!" he suggests with a shrug.
By now a crowd has formed around them, most of the knights pausing their own training to watch the spectacle. Cordelia flushes under the gazes, and scowls at Pip, who's smirking at the crowd.
"Look, we even got an audience!" he motions towards the crowd before grinning at her, "Can't back down now, can ya?"
"I'm not going to fight you," she says firmly.
"What? Scared?" he jeers.
"No matter what you say, I won't fight you," she repeats, louder.
Pip sighs, resting his staff against his shoulder and raising his head up - as if he's looking down on her, and as if she doesn't have at least a foot of height over him.
"Yeah? Guess talky time is over then."
The next moment, the staff is swinging towards her head. She blocks the attack and glares down at Pip. Far from being cowed, he grins up at her, eyes bright.
"I've been itching for a real fight! So let's see what you got, little miss genius !" Pip jumps back, twirling his staff in a flourish and spreading his wings.
Cordelia sighs, even as she swings the practice spear. The wooden weapon carves a deep furrow in the ground as she points it at him.
"Very well," she says quietly, "I suppose I'll have to teach you a lesson, young man."
"Bring it!" Pip laughs, lunging at her.
Fighting with Pip is very different from fighting her peers.
His weapon is very different, for a start. Though it is near the length of a spear, there is no blade to it. Certainly being jabbed by it might hurt, but this is not a weapon that cuts. It is a weapon that shoots, or smashes.
Then there is his size. He's short, even for the standards of the pegasus knights. But he's not small - not with those wings of his. He's faster and hits harder than a human his size should, and it trips her up at first.
Pip swings the staff like a club, aiming for her legs and arms. There's no elegance to it, but the power behind the simple violence is admirable in a way. Certainly it was keeping her on the defensive. Cordelia blocks a strike that would've slammed straight into her knees, and her arms shake a bit as Pip continues pushing. He abruptly pulls back, only to swing down at her head, forcing her to intercept one more.
She can't overpower him, as much as it galls her to admit. The advantage she has then, is…
Pip grins up at her as their weapons push against each other. She glares back, before putting all her weight into pushing him back. He falls back several steps, as does she. And Pip lunges towards her - and straight into the jab she sends his way.
...is reach.
Pip grunts, stumbling back and hissing, and she hesitates.
"Are you alright?" she begins.
Pip's staff smashes into her arm, and she bites back a curse. He swings again, nearly clipping her as she stumbles back.
"That all you got?" Pip sneers, "Here I thought this would be a challenge!"
That was entirely it.
Wood creaking under her hands, Cordelia moves. She stabs at Pip, and he moves to intercept her. The spear point slams into the staff, before in a sudden jarring movement sliding over it under the force of her blow. Pip jerks back and Cordelia swings the spear up. The weapon hooks against the staff's golden wing adornments, and the weapon is sent flying. Pip stares at his hands, empty with his weapon wrenched free.
"Cra-"
He wheezes as she plants the butt of her spear into his stomach. As he hunches forward, stumbling back, Cordelia glances towards the sky and manages to catch the falling staff. The metal of the weapon feels strange, and the red gems inlaid seem to twinkle at her.
She breaks out of her reverie by thunderous applause. In the heat of the fight, she'd forgotten their audience. Now there's no forgetting, not with the way her fellow knights cheer.
"Well done, Cordelia!"
"Pride of the Pegasus Knights!"
"Of course she'd win!"
Cordelia blushes under the weight of attention, and opens her mouth to remind everyone that they were supposed to be training, when Pip growls.
"Give that back!" he hisses, lunging at her.
Without thinking, Cordelia swings her spear. The point of the weapon, which had been resting on the dirt, carves a furrow on its journey up. Before slamming into Pip's chin. The angel flies up before crashing back down onto the ground.
The noise around her stops, along with her heart.
"Pip!"
She drops both weapons and kneels down next to him. She almost slams into a headbutt as he rockets back up.
"Yeesh," he winces, massaging his chin. Despite this, he looks perfectly fine. "Got me pretty good there."
"Are you alright?" she asks, heart hammering still.
"I'm fine," he grumbles, before standing up. Cordelia prepares to catch him should he stumble, and is quick on her feet as he wobbles.
"I'm fine!" he insists, batting her away.
"Are you certain?" she asks, lips pursed.
"Of course!" he reaches down to snatch his staff, twirling it as he points it at her, "Now, grab your weapon!"
Cordelia stares at him, and Pip's grin only grows sharper.
"Best two outta three!"
"Penny for your thoughts?"
Robin blinks, brought out of her book and back to reality. Which is currently sweaty and grueling, with the Shepherds marching towards Southern Ylisse. So lost in her thoughts she'd been, that she hasn't noticed Chrom coming to step besides her.
"Hmm? Oh, just reading."
"Normally I'd warn against reading while marching," Chrom begins, "Miriel's attempted it enough times that I know it isn't a good idea. But you somehow have seemed to manage."
"Haven't tripped yet," she agrees.
At that moment she stubs her toe on something, and nearly falls flat on her face. Her destined meeting with the ground is only stopped by Chrom.
"You alright?" he asks quickly. One of his hands encloses her arm, while the other is atop her shoulder as he steadies her. Robin glances up at him. Catching his worried expression, she can't help the short laugh that escapes her.
"Spoke too soon?" she suggests, face colouring a bit.
Chrom's eyes twinkle as he chuckles.
"As your commander," his voice is warm, "Perhaps I should take that book from you, for now?"
"As your tactician," she responds wryly, "I'd advise it."
She hands him the book - she can always research it later – and when Chrom reads the title he makes a face.
"A Historie off Beastes Moste Fowle?" he reads haltingly.
Robin laughs sheepishly.
"It's an old bestiary of monsters I found buried in the depths of the library. I understand that me holding it might not make for the best look-"
"You mean a Plegian holding a book on monsters?" Chrom asks sharply.
Robin nods. She knows that the optics weren't great – a Plegian mage with dark magic, reading about monsters? But as soon as she'd found the nearly fallen tome, she knew she had to study it.
Bandits might've been harassing the countryside, and tensions with Plegia were getting worrisome. But the Risen were an existential threat that trumped them, in her mind.
"No," Chrom says at last, expression serious, "If anyone gives you trouble over this, bring it up with me."
"Um," Robin begins, startled by Chrom's shift in tone.
"I'm serious Robin. Do you know how useful this is? The council has been searching for any answer to the Risen they can! If you can find anything..." Chrom shakes his head and hands the book back to her.
"I know I made the right choice, recruiting you," Chrom says with a smile.
Robin quashes down a smile at the words. They...feel more than nice. A warm anchor in the tumultuous days that have been her life thus far.
"Don't sing praises too early," she warns, "The book is...dated."
"Nevertheless. Have you found anything?"
"I haven't found the term "Risen" outright. Not a surprise, seeing as how the council appointed these monsters as such," she resists the urge to leaf through the book, "I have found several monsters similar in description to the reports we've been receiving. Revenants, Entombed, Bonewalkers, Wights..."
"Quite a few of them," Chrom says, eyebrows furrowing.
"Quite a few," she agrees, "And even more that scouts haven't encountered. Luck be willing, we never will."
There were some creatures in that book that had been nightmarish, even more so than the risen undead...
"Whatcha guys talking about?"
Robin bites back a startled cry as Lissa pops up between them.
"Had enough of the supply convoy?" Chrom asks, a touch sardonic.
"For your information, I'm here to keep Robin company," she replies, sticking her tongue out before turning towards Robin.
"So? What's with the book?"
"It's an old compendium on monsters," Robin explains, "I am hoping to find any information on the Risen."
"Ohhhh!" Lissa says, "Smart thinking!"
"I am afraid I have not yet found anything," nothing scouting reports hadn't already elucidated, and nothing that she couldn't confirm wasn't an ancient farmer's tall tale.
"Hmm..." Lissa snaps her fingers, "What about monoeyes? Anything in that book about them?"
"Mono...?" Robin begins.
"Monoeyes," Lissa repeated, "Pip mentioned them, some sort of "underworld goon"" and here Lissa tries to lower her voice to that of Pip's. She ends up coughing instead. "Anyway, he got all high and mighty when I said I'd never heard of them."
Lissa's expression tells Robin well enough how that probably went down.
"I cannot say I've encountered the term," Robin says slowly, "Did he mention what they looked like?"
Lissa's face scrunches up in thought.
"Hmmm...Not really? Mostly that they had one eye and were ugly, and weak. He really made sure to emphasize how weak they were."
"One eyed," Robin mutters.
"Hence the name I guess," Lissa agrees.
"Could be a cyclops," Robin offers.
"Hmm. Oh, he also said something about "tentacles"!"
"That," Robin frowns, "Sounds like a description of a mogall, for the most part."
"See, now we're getting somewhere!"
"Keep in mind, we can't be sure that these monsters exist," Robin points out, "The book is very, very old, and hardly academic in tone. At best it's a good jumping off point for speculation and hypothesis."
Lissa makes a face.
"You're starting to sound like Miriel."
"You say that as if it is a bad thing."
"I mean, she's a good gal but sometimes she's super hard to understand, yknow?"
"For me, Ylissen is difficult enough to understand. Sometimes it is easier to understand Miriel than you two. Ah," Robin amends when she sees Chrom and Lissa's worried looks, "That was a joke."
Mostly.
Phila finds their guest on the castle ramparts.
She walks quietly, yet when she's only a few feet away he whips around, wings flaring. With the setting sun behind him, all but his blood red eyes are cast in shadows. It would've made for an intimidating sight, were it not that Phila had a good deal of height over the boy, whose injured wing could still not extend fully. That Phila was intimately familiar with using the unusual red of her own eyes to intimidate countless others certainly didn't help.
"Oh," the angel sneers, "Its you."
The derision, were it from anyone else, would've rankled her. Coming from a boy who floundered and ran at the first sign of embarrassment, it was hardly cutting.
Phila says nothing, walking until she is next to Pip. He tenses at first, watching her with wary eyes. When she continues to remain silent, not even turning towards him, Pip finally looks back at the horizon.
Where before, framed in shadows, he might've theoretically been intimidating, in the light of evening he looks perhaps even younger than he did before. Though Phila could hardly say for certain, she'd bet good money that the boy could hardly be older than Ricken. Certainly he was younger than Cordelia, one of her youngest knights. It was hard to imagine such a young man living the mercenary life the angel tended to boast about.
"Why are you up here?"
"Hmm?" Phila hums, pretending as though she hasn't heard the question. Pip's ever-present scowl returns and he turns towards her.
"You're like the captain of those knights, aren't you? You wouldn't be up here for no reason."
"Do you think so?" she finally turns towards him. Phila will give the young man credit here - unlike so many others before him he doesn't quail in the slightest under her gaze. Crossing his arms, he meets her gaze head on.
"Y'know, I think I do know why you're up here."
"Oh?"
"You're here to chew me out."
"Whatever for?" her voice nothing but bored. Pip scoffs.
"For picking a fight with one of your precious knights."
Phila pretends to mull over his declaration. In truth, the incident in question had hardly been ideal. Phila did not like the idea of anyone interrupting her knight's training. Let alone someone who was supposed to be both a guest of Emmeryn and on some measure of bedrest. And while she'd never hold it against Frederick, she liked to keep the knights to a stricter standard than the Shepherds.
"Do you believe that your actions warrant chastising?" she asks instead.
Pip, who had been clearly expecting an accusation or the beginnings of a lecture, paused. Scowl dropping into a furrowed brow.
"Uh-?"
"I would rather you not do something like that again," she begins, "If only to spare my knights."
She continues while Pip parses whether that had been a compliment or not.
"I see no need to lecture you," she says, carefully not lecturing him, "On some level you realize that what you did was wrong. So long as you don't do the same in the future, I see no need to "chew you out" as you proposed. And on such a nice evening too."
"...This is some reverse psychology junk, isn't it?" Pip says at last.
"Nothing of the sort," Phila says mildly, before turning back towards the horizon. Pip fidgets for a moment, staring at her, before following her gaze.
"What are you looking at?" he asks.
"The capital," she says, "From here you can see all of Ylisstol."
It was but a slight exaggeration. The whole of Ylisstol was spread out below, the mostly white buildings now a soft orange. The occasional lamp had been lit, more joining as the sun continued to set, making the capital glow.
"From here I can not only keep watch over my city, but remind myself exactly what it is I fight for," she turns towards Pip, "Do you understand?"
The angel glances away from the capitol, glancing towards her. His solemn expression almost immediately shifts to one of careful derision when she glances at him, and he turns away with a scoff.
"Whatever."
Phila resists the urge to sigh, not looking for a fight. She turns around and begins to walk away.
"Where are you going?" Pip immediately asks.
She glances back to see Pip looking at her, curious.
"I am quite busy, as you mentioned. I must return to my work."
"Better get to that then," Pip shrugged, waving dismissively as he turns away.
It was a near thing, keeping the smile off her face.
"Ah, and her ladyship, the Exalt, will be expecting you tomorrow."
Pip whirls around, eyes wide.
"Wait," he asks, brows furrowed, "For what?"
"You're expected to be in the audience chambers at two in the afternoon sharp," Phila responds, "I'll personally escort you to her, so make yourself presentable."
"Hang on," Pip begins as Phila walks away, "What the heck does she want with me? The hell do you think you're going, answer me-!"
"Hold it!"
Dark Pit tries to ignore the call. If he turns around, no doubt he'll get sucked into something dumb.
"I said hold it!"
The fall of boots becomes faster, and Dark Pit picks up speed himself - but it's too late. The Parasol Girl overtakes him, glaring at him as she whirls around.
"Really now," her imperious manner is ruined by the way she has to catch her breath, "Are you deaf? Could you not hear me calling you?"
"Oh, I could," he says, "I just didn't care."
He's rewarded with Parasol Girl's face flushing bright red - she's easier to rile up than Pit.
"How rude!" she snaps.
"I try," he replies with a grin. Absently he wonders exactly how red he can get her face, and whether he can get her to explode. Parasol Girl takes a deep breath, and he briefly considers poking her. He glances at the parasol at her hip, and decides not to.
"Your name is Pip," she says after a moment, "Is it not?"
"It's not."
"Oh?" she raises an eyebrow daintily, "Then may I ask for your name?"
"You may not," he mimics her accent as stupidly as he can, and grins as she gives him a flat glare.
"I have no earthly idea where you might be from," she sniffs, "But it's clear to me that you were raised in a barn. At best."
"Better than wherever you were raised," he makes a point to look down at his nails as Parasol Girl puffs up like an angry cat, "Not that this isn't a riveting conversation, but what exactly did you want? I'm kinda busy."
"What could you possibly be busy with?" she scoffs.
'Trying to come up with ways to avoid a conversation with your Queen' is what he doesn't say. He doesn't say anything, as a matter of fact. Rather than irking her, however, Parasol Girl's expression clears. Dark Pit watches apprehensively.
"I thought as much," Parasol Girl looks as pleased as the cat that caught the canary, "Which means that you will be more than able to join me for some tea."
"Tea?"
"Oh dear, are you perhaps unfamiliar with the beverage?" Parasol Girl 'tsks', looking at him with pity, "Consider yourself blessed, then, that I've granted you the chance to become enlightened-"
"I know what tea is!" he snaps. When Parasol Girl seems unconvinced, he adds with a dismissive wave, "It's, like, hot leaf juice."
There is a silence. Dark Pit and Parasol Girl stare at each other.
"I see," she begins slowly, "that my work has been cut out for me."
"Well then," Dark Pit begins just as slow, "Since you're being so generous, let me repay the favour."
Dark Pit promptly turns around, and begins to walk away. He gets about several footsteps away before he's jerked back, Parasol Girl yanking his arm.
"Hey!" he snaps.
"Mind your manners!" she snaps back, "That's no way to talk to a lady!"
"I'll talk however I please!" he sneers, pulling his arm away. He ends up pulling Parasol Girl too, and they nearly topple. He winces as his wing protests, twitching in pain, and Parasol Girl's gaze snaps towards it. She abruptly lets go of him, nearly sending him to the floor again.
"Your wing," she says, "Has it not fully healed?"
"None of your business," he mutters, watching her carefully.
"As a matter of fact it is my business," she flips some of her hair back, "I am a healer after all."
"You are? Can you heal my wing?" he immediately asks. If his wings get fully healed by tomorrow, then…
Parasol Girl seems to consider it for a moment, tapping her fingers on her parasol.
"I can take a look at it, at least," she says at last, "I can't make any promises."
"So long as you can heal me, I don't care."
"Oh? So you'll accept my invitation?"
"No. I am not going to some tea party!"
"Oh, as if you have anything better to do with your time, aside from scowling and stalking the halls!"
"What I do is none of your business, human! I am not dealing with this on top of meeting with your queen tomorrow!"
Parasol Girl, who's incandescent expression suggests that she was several seconds away from using said parasol, paused, scowl slipping.
"Pardon?" she began hesitantly, "Are you implying that you will be…meeting with the Exalt tomorrow?"
"Not if I can help it," he grumbles.
Parasol Girl doesn't appear to hear him. She stares at him, slowly looking over him. He readjusts his laurel crown and frowns.
"What's that look for?" he asks warily.
"This won't do," Parasol Girl's eyes become sharp, "This won't do at all."
"Cordelia?"
Cordelia whirls around, eyes wide, and nearly slaps herself saluting.
"Commander Phila!"
Phila looks past her knight, towards the large portrait of Prince Chrom. She remembers the day that the portrait had been done, and how miserable Prince Chrom had been. The artist had, in her opinion, done a fine job not portraying any of that misery.
Phila glances back at her knight, and she doesn't particularly even need the fact that Cordelia's face is rapidly matching her hair to get an idea. Before she can say anything though, there's a commotion at the end of the hall.
The pegasus knights turn in time to see Maribelle of Themis marching like a soldier going to war, dragging along-
"Pip?" Cordelia asks.
The young man, who'd been sullenly looking at the ground, snaps towards them. Eyes wide and flustered. But Maribelle does not even pause, and soon the two are out of sight.
A moment passes.
"Er," Cordelia starts, "What?"
Oh this refused to be written. Absolute snails pace, but that's already a given. Still, its was fun to write and by the end I was finally getting back into the swing of things. Now if only I had the time for my appetite...
Thanks for reading. Tune in for the next chapter!