A Handful of Marigolds

A field of grass and cornflowers swayed in the sun. Other places in Sacae swarmed with those nasty, rough stalks guaranteed to prick through a boot's every weak spot. Here, however, with the rasping voices of Caelin's tavern guests and displaced farmers barely audible, lingered a scent of yarrow and summer days. It could trick Ike into falling for this mythic "peacetime". The blooming cornflowers cared about the approaching fall about as much as they cared about the battle that had shaken the nearby mountain a week prior.

Ike groped between the tufts for another speck of orange, but his search came up empty. With a groan, he straightened. The sky lacked all traces of smoke or clouds, and sweat drenched his collar.

"I hate gardening," he said.

Soren glanced at him before diving back into the grass thicket. "You told me so. Approximately three times in the last hour. And I regret to inform you that the more you complain, the less helpful you are. If I read the passage correctly, marigold stands as one of the most recognized herbs to cure burn wounds. The bushfires may have ceased, but too many Ostian farmers still need adequate treatment. Drinking themselves senseless in the tavern is not what I call adequate treatment." He gestured at the tangle of weeds next to him. "Now, if you would be so kind…"

The basket between them was disappointingly empty for the time they had already spent digging for flowers.

"Marigold prefers sunny locations," Ike said. "The other grasses here are too high."

"Oh, really?" Soren frowned. "My mistake, I suppose."

Ike's father had shown him where to find marigold. He had listened with only half an ear and had plucked the petals afterwards to spite his father for not letting him train with a real sword. Now, a very real golden sword stuck in the earth nearby, and no matter how often Ike ran a polishing cloth across the blade, it still bore a sickening face. He choked on the overflow of herbal scents but did as Soren asked and knelt down next to him. Every so often, a marigold and its roots came free with a soft tearing sound.

"I dragged you into it again," Ike said.

Soren shifted next to him. The bandage covering forehead no longer dripped with blood, but it was still there, and that was bad enough.

"And by some miracle, we dragged ourselves out of it another time," Soren said. "So, in case you are leading into a heartfelt apology with this, allow me to remind you that it is not your style."

"Moron."

The thick, honey-like smell of flowers didn't allow Ike's nose to remember the stench of smoke. Some late insects buzzed around.

"To be perfectly honest, I am grateful you convinced me to fight," Soren said. "Even if I contributed little to the outcome. With the threat of the Black Fang now gone, it allows them to lead a life without fighting. Without hiding."

Ike craned his neck, and as expected, Clarisse still couldn't be bothered to join their herb search. She had found herself a rock overlooking the field to sit and was pulling her assassin dagger over a piece of wood. With only one hand, she struggled to keep the block steady for carving. For now, the misshapen thing that was allegedly turning into a carved horse had more in common with a limping sheep. Katarina had placed one of Soren's spell books aside and pointed at all the anatomical inaccuracies. Their bickering travelled over the field to join the peacetime sounds, but Ike knew too well why Clarisse had picked out the rock; a spot easy to defend, perfect for a sentinel. Or for a former assassin archer on the lookout for its target. She could no longer hold a bow, but old habits died hard. Harder than some people at least.

"I'm not sure Clarisse knows how to handle a life without a dagger," Ike said.

"You have a point," Soren said, "I assume she will brood for a while over the fact that she could not land the killing shot against Ursula. But she did use her dagger to cut herself free. I am confident that she will learn to move on. Once she is done recording the dead."

"Still don't get that one." Ike tore out another orange flower. "We burnt all the bodies at the tower. How on earth does she think she can identify them all?"

And what would it change to give the dead names?

"The Black Fang keeps records of its members too. Yes, they were assassins and some of them committed heinous crimes. The differences, however, between their guild and a group of rebels operating at the gray edges of morality are not so great. If Clarisse can find peace of mind by carving names into stone, perhaps we all can."

"And you'll be her second hand there."

"For a while, certainly. Between my limping and her missing hand, the two of us almost make one proper person."

Ike fidgeted with his empty pocket. "Ever considered using one of the spheres?"

"To grow back her hand? She would hardly let me come near her with that idea. What happened at the shrine only served to remind me of the dangers of untrained magic. And my own limitations in its use."

"You'd be doing better than I did with the Darksphere."

Not too hard, considering the shrine Ike blew up set the bar astonishingly low.

"You would indeed do me a favor if you gave me a heads-up the next time I stumble into the crossfire of your brick-headed plans."

Ike huffed.

"This world and the magic that dwells within it still holds a great number of secrets," Soren continued. He paused his work to hold up a hand. Above his palm twirled a tornado of sparks; a miniature of the firestorm Katarina had summoned at the shrine. "I thought I would continue the beliefs of the monastery and my dead mage brothers by studying. But as of late, I have come to the conclusion that studying alone is not enough."

"Come now, just spill it."

Soren smiled. "I would like to build a new monastery. Young people with an aptitude for magic are walking in a world that will not always respond kindly to their abilities. Ursula was able to win so many mages for her guild not only because of the gold she promised but because they had such limited options to choose from. You can either take up arms in the military or take up arms as an assassin. I would like to show them an alternative. A rather presumptuous undertaking, isn't it?"

"No, it fits you. You have so much practice reprimanding me for my stupidity, you'd make for a great teacher. Just don't expect your students to love that strict tone of yours."

"Perhaps I can convince Katarina to aid me."

"As your teacher or your student?"

"That is still up for debate. Though I fear she will stake the teacher mantle in a game of Imperial Blockade, which we both know I have little hope of winning."

Ike leaned back. Soren at a desk surrounded by books, while a bunch of children tugged at his sleeves to show off the fireworks sprouting from their hands – why was that so easy to imagine? He would smile then and forget all about the stupid leg injury and the even stupider rebellion that had caused it. A straight road easily walked. It could make one jealous.

"You have it all figured out, don't you?" Ike asked.

"Hardly. The steps I take are rather small. But placing the first one is a victory in its own right."

Crazy to think Soren, the gaunt, know-it-all boy from a burning monastery, had picked up wisdom somewhere along the way.

"Tell me how it goes once you have the plan running," Ike said. "Maybe I'll come visit just to see you boss around a room full of little fire devils."

Soren chuckled, and it was almost too easy to grin back. Here they were, rebels of old, crawling in the dirt for some flowers. Maybe that was all that was needed for peacetime: a handful of marigolds and no incentive to look west.

"Hey, Soren." Ike paused for a moment. He had gotten so used to skipping this part, the words left a foreign taste on his tongue. "Thanks. You helped me out back there. Again."

"Not at all. You would have convinced Katarina and Clarisse to join you without my input. I know you always despised the topic, but it seems you have become a quite persuasive leader. In your rather blunt way."

"That's all Lucina's influence."

"Certainly. But I was glad to help you. I have never seen you care so much. Before, you had almost convinced me your dense head had no room for anything outside the mission and the great cause." Soren gestured at the field ahead. "This is rather refreshing."

Ike followed the line of Soren's outstretched hand. Between the yarrow and cornflowers wandered Lucina. She searched for marigold with slow, deliberate movements, and often she paused when the grass brushed across the thick bandages around her arms. Sometimes she shuddered, or maybe it was the wind tearing through the woolen cape, a cape that couldn't hide the emaciation of her shoulders.

"I may have been wrong before," Soren continued. "Perhaps a brick-headed simpleton can change his ways."

Ike tore his eyes from Lucina. "There's still the Black Knight."

"Yes, and there are famines and sicknesses and simple farmers who envy the crops of their neighbor. You cannot fight them all. Besides, she is there also – and a lot closer than any of those evils." When Ike made no move, Soren sighed. "That is your cue to leave. Go on, I can track down the remaining flowers without you. Your constant reminders of how much you despise gardening are disrupting my flow."

Ike huffed, but he couldn't quite strangle a smile. "Yes, Sir Teacher."

He took up Ragnell and made for the depth of the cornflower field. Lucina turned around to face him a couple yards before he reached her. At the sound of his bootsteps, her arms twitched to hug herself, but she forced them down, brushing the cornflowers. Even now, she had a smile for him.

"Any luck on the flower hunt?" Ike asked.

Lucina held a small tuft of marigold out to him. Half the blooms had withered from a lack of sunlight. "I'm afraid not."

Ike couldn't focus on her face for more than a few seconds. His attention always drifted back to the bandages.

Lucina noticed. "I'm better. I promise."

She was lying. Her shoulders rocked with uneven breaths. Even so she continued. "I shouldn't delay any longer. I heard what you and Clarisse discussed last night, and she's right. With Uther dead and Ostia ruler-less, the unrest in Sacae is growing. Rath still hasn't recovered from his wounds, and the people are getting nervous."

Ike had spent more hours than he liked to admit peeking through the curtains of Lucina's repurposed sickroom as though Ursula's ghost would pace Caelin's dusty road the next moment. But even he had heard the rumors infesting the tap room. Pherae's king was injured, and if his supporters shared that information around town, his condition had to be serious. They couldn't sweep the news under their eagle-bannered carpets anymore. And a few hoarse voices at the tavern had leaned over their ale and whispered of a golden sword involved in the attack against the king.

"We can pretend all we like, I'm still an outlaw in this land," Lucina continued. "It won't be long before the people draw the line from Uther's death to the Altean queen who went against her banishment."

"If anyone still thinks you deserve that banishment after what you did for them, they had one cup of ale too many. Thanks to you, they won't be eaten by a hungry dragon next winter."

"And who should tell them that story?" Lucina scraped one of her bandages. Her eyes drifted across the vast, blooming landscape as if to hold it tight against all odds. "No matter what Rath said, Sacae is Pheraen ground. Flower fields like this one aren't meant for me. Tomorrow we… I can take on the journey west."

"Fine by me. I suppose the healers at the Glass Fortress can patch you up better than Soren can. You'd think he upgraded his skill after all the times he had to sew me back together."

"Ike, I'm not returning to the Glass Fortress."

He made a pointless attempt to frown a beginning headache away. He should have seen this one coming. The world could be on fire and she might burn with it, and she would still fight step after step on her path. Or rather Naga's path.

"After everything that happened?" Ike asked.

"Now more than ever."

"The shield's gone. We're worse off now than when we started."

"If you would look up, you should see why I have to continue."

The sun baked Sacae's cornflower fields and endless grasslands without a cloud in sight. It was all ordinary. Except for the dark lines spreading across the sky from the peak of King's Plight. As though some giant hand had smashed a mirror, and the scars on the glass still reminded of the crime. The sight pricked like needles at Ike's neck, sinking and barbing with a click and a clack. Another shadow, another evil. Maybe he couldn't fight them all, and with torn skin and bandaged arms, she stood even less of a chance, but she would throw herself at the task all the same.

"Naga warned me," Lucina said. "She can shape Archanea through the spheres but so can Grima. The barrier has cracked. And if the wrong hands use the Binding Shield, Grima will reach farther and farther through the cracks."

"Whoever has the shield, they haven't ended the world yet."

"And how long before someone does?" Lucina held her marigolds out to him like a parting gift. "I cannot ask you to continue walking with me. But I have to keep searching."

Ike nudged her hand back, careful to avoid the bandages. "Of course you do. And I'll tag along and make sure you don't get yourself into any more trouble."

A small smile blossomed on Lucina's face. "I have been quite the hassle in that sense, haven't I?"

"Terribly so. But you've made this sphere business into my problem back when you first dropped unconscious from touching that dumb shield. So do me a favor and stop pretending like I could just get up and leave."

Lucina studied Ike's face. But for once she lacked that examining sharpness which scalpelled every pore for secrets. While her fingers stroked a grass hem, she was looking for ghosts. "I don't deserve this loyalty. Especially not from you. All I have to show for it are a crown I inherited and a sword forged for someone else."

"No one has earned their queenship on the battlefield more than you have. Hero of Gran, hero of Persis, vanquisher of tyranny, dragon slayer – I could go on. But that's not the reason why it's so easy to follow you. If anyone can convince the damn stars themselves to abandon the sky, it's you."

Ike hadn't meant to say that last part out loud. Gods, he was fever-talking. If Lucina could at least get over her stunned expression, then they could both laugh about his silliness.

After a moment, she shook her head with a smile. "Should we go for a walk?"

That invitation at least broke the awkward silence. Ike grumbled some sounds he himself didn't care to discern the meaning of and took up his place at Lucina's side. She stretched out her arm to the cornflowers she passed. He wondered if she could feel the blooms through the bandages.

"I have reread Marth's diary for clues about the remaining sphere," Lucina said. "He doesn't make specific mention of it, but I'm pretty certain he didn't obtain the Geosphere long before Caeda's death. Otherwise he wouldn't describe it as such a bad omen. His last entry before her death mentions a tournament in Leonster. And Uther also said Hector had acquired the Lightsphere on a trip there. It would be as good a place as any to start looking for the missing Starsphere."

Leonster. Farther to the west than Ike would have thought. Too far almost, only a stone's throw from what remained of the Black Wall. And beyond that… Tellius. The scent of spruce needles already filled his nose. Click-clack, the pieces shifted into place. To think that he would return to Tellius after all, despite his resolve to stand by her side instead. And if she only picked out Leonster for his sake? She used to be like that, she was like that, always determined to realize someone else's dream, whether they were a traitor, a follower of her rebellion, or someone long dead. And Leonster was so close to Tellius…

What a dumb line of thought. She had her task from Naga.

"We need the advantage over those who stole the Binding Shield," Lucina was saying. "Maybe Lord Leif knows something we don't."

"Have you delt with him before?" Ike asked. His voice sounded hoarse.

"Once or twice since I took up the crown of Altea. He also visited Lycia a few times during Roy's reign. He probably saw me there. I can't remember anything specific. But I would say he is a practical man. Once I have told him the whole story, he will share what information he has."

"Sounds like a long ride. We'd have to cross all of Altea to get to Leonster, and my horse hates me already. Are you sure you're up for this?" Ike wasn't sure if he was up for this.

Lucina had slowed her steps more and more. She swayed a little, as breakable as the marigolds she clutched onto.

"I just… need to sit for a moment," she said.

The tall grass covered them from eyes and ears. Lucina's goddess could probably still find them, but otherwise they were as safe as could be. Safety… now that was a ridiculous idea for two people who carried swords wherever they went.

Ike gave Lucina a more thorough lookover, even though he hated the mere idea of the bandages around her arms. She looked pale. Farther away somehow. Now that she was sitting, her pants softened into easier breaths.

"Just don't die on me, okay?" Ike said. "I've gone through too much trouble to get you out of Ursula's greedy paws to see you end up in those of your goddess before your time."

He rolled back his shoulders but found the pressure of Ragnell revolting and unclipped the sword from his back.

Lucina noticed. Now that she had caught her breath, her attentive self peeked back out into the world, still hurting but on its path to recovery. At least that was what Ike would have prayed for, if he had seen a point in bargaining with gods.

"I shouldn't ask this," Lucina said, "but what happened while I was… gone? Soren only told me that you found the Darksphere at the Black Fang's hideout."

Ike looked sideways. "He talks too much."

"It's inevitable when he has to waste all this time every day wrapping up my arms. I may not be able to hold Falchion for more than five minutes, but I'm not blind. He is worried about you. And you shut down every time I bring up the subject. You probably don't want to hear this but… you can talk to me."

Part of Ike wanted to retort with how she didn't talk about her captivity either. Not that he was begging for details; furniture or other breakable things in his proximity would have to reduce their life expectancy if he heard about Ursula's hands anywhere near Lucina. But despite the cuts on her arms, on her mind, she still sat beside him, inviting him, leaving herself wide open. Her expression gleamed with that intoxicating honesty, as though nothing in this world mattered more than whatever thought paced in Ike's mind – and somehow, she still didn't get why people wanted to follow her.

Her eyes drew him in. Not just the deep blue, like the lake in which he could see himself drowning. There was a faint symbol in her left iris, little more than a discoloration for those who didn't look closely. But it was there. An icon of the divine to let everyone know she wasn't meant for this world. Or just a lovely flaw. He couldn't say. But he wondered how many people had sat opposite of her as he did now, close enough to notice.

"It's not a pleasant story," Ike finally said and plucked a grass hem. Ragnell shimmered in his periphery.

"I'm not sure I have many of that kind to tell either."

Had that been a joke? Without a doubt, a soft attempt at humor paired with an even softer smile, and the gods be damned, it worked.

"The thing with the Darksphere," Ike said, "I got it from the Black Fang tower Clarisse mentioned before."

"From where the firewall originated."

Ike nodded. "The tower was guarded. That's pretty much all. We still didn't get to you in time. It was pointless."

"You killed them."

"I got rusty. It's what eighteen months of peace do to you. I can't handle it as well as I used to. That's all."

"Ike…" Lucina saw through his act. Of course she did, she always did, and if he had stopped right there, she still would have given him that look of endless empathy, like an embrace and a blanket for the night.

"I've killed so often, couldn't even try to remember all the names." Ike plucked another grass hem. "It's the simplest thing. Ragnell strikes down, and they're gone. I didn't think about it for the longest time. So I didn't think in the tower either. They stood in my way, and I hacked them down. Some of them were young. Children, really. I hacked them down all the same. I'm not sure I could have stopped. I'm not sure I would have wanted. It was so damn easy. After so long, there was finally something easy."

"You were trying to rescue me."

"Then why am I second-guessing now? Why have I become so weak that I can't just move on and pick up Ragnell as before?" Ike broke eye contact. "There was a girl at the top of the tower. Fourteen years at most. She didn't have to die if not for me. Isn't that the biggest joke? I was too weak to save you or her, and now I'm even too weak to stand my reflection when it looks back at me from Ragnell's blade."

Lucina didn't respond for a long time. In her world, there was still room for knights. She would have to hate Ike now, lump him in with the murderers and assassins, and it was probably the best company he deserved.

"You see their faces, don't you?" Lucina asked. After a stunned moment, Ike nodded. "I see Roy's face sometimes. And sometimes I think that it's only fair. He and they were denied the chance to live longer. This way they can continue their existence in some form at least, as the ghosts who haunt us. It's maybe not a loving memory. But at least it's a memory."

"You've only killed once."

"And Linus?"

"You've only done it when it was necessary. You didn't enjoy it."

"If you had enjoyed it, we wouldn't be talking here. You wouldn't be seeing their faces."

Ike swallowed, tried to get rid of the faces just like his dry throat. It didn't work. "It's weakness. It slows me down. No sacrifice cripples the determined man – that's what my father told me when he shoved Ragnell into my hands. They say he was a great captain, a great knight, that he could draw real light from the sword. It didn't spark for me when I fought Roy in Thria. It didn't spark for me at the tower. Makes sense to think I haven't followed his mantra enough. Just keep on walking, no matter who you leave behind, like he did." Ike paused, looked at Lucina. "I want him to be wrong."

She placed a hand on his knee, and that was enough for him to continue.

"One time in Aurelis, I ignored his advice," he said. "The battle was in full swing, and I had more than enough Pheraens to slay to secure our victory. But there was this girl. She looked like she had never seen a battlefield before. I shouldn't have cared, shouldn't even have noticed. What's one more casualty in the grand scheme of things? I should have continued like a determined man. But I didn't. This one girl with a brittle sword, and I stopped to push her out of reach of the Pheraen soldier who snuck up behind her. It's the one good decision I made."

"You have done so much more than that," Lucina said. "You saved me so many more times than that."

Her hand was cool and pale on Ike's knee, but he still believed in warmth spreading from the touch. With that genuine look on her face, it was easy to imagine that not only she forgave him the blood he had spilled but the dead did too. In a way, Soren had a point. Assassins, black knights, and the faces in Ike's head still walked about, but so did Lucina. In a field of cornflowers at least, that was incentive enough not to look west.

Ike took Lucina's hand and stroked her scarred knuckles. "I've missed you."

She smiled. The genuine empathy still shone on her face. But the smile moved farther and farther away even as they sat knee to knee.

Notes: I swear it's not my fault the chapter is late this time! It's just that this site was down for me yesterday. All view counters on my account have also been frozen for the past month, and alert emails seem to be working only half the time at best, so that's fun. I wrote a mail to the support team and have expectedly not received an answer. If anyone knows a way for me to fix this issue, please let me know, my PMs are open. If in the meantime you experience difficulties with this story, best I can do is refer you to my ao3 account. I have Fire Emblem Legacy over there too, just split into the three separate books. (Which stands as one of my gravest life mistakes, but oh well.)

Anyway! Hope you enjoyed this moment to breathe after all the fighting and killing that has happened recently. In the next chapter, we will go back in time to meet a new character on a mission destined to intertwine with the path of our heroes. Whether their involvement will be for better or for worse remains to be seen.