The day that Henry, Gaius, Lon'qu, Tharja, and Libra returned back to camp was a happy one, indeed. The mob of Risen at the Plegian border had been dealt with, and business was back to normal for all the merchants and townspeople involved.
All of them tried their hardest to overlook the bloodshed. They were lucky that blood dried under the desert sun looked brown in appearance, otherwise Plegia would be stained even redder than it already was.
But regardless, the journey home was an uneventful one, although the Shepherds were paid for their troubles. "Consider it a personal thank you gift," Tarun said once he procured more money from a bank. "And a little souvenir for Henry, since you wouldn't shut up about it this whole time."
"Oh boy, this sucks! I promise to never let it go, even when I die! Thanks!" He meant almost every word said, but was especially sincere about not letting it go. The souvenir in question was nothing more than a silver hairpin, with a round sapphire jewel affixed to the center.
Henry wore it proudly as they departed. Gaius noticed this, and brought his hand closer to inspect it.
Gaius' hands were well-worn and rough against Henry's soft skin. The bare contact was enough to send a wave of warmth throughout Henry, darkening his cheeks and quickening his heartbeat. While he wasn't completely healed by their recent escapade, he didn't have to ask to understand what this sensation had been all along.
It was shyness blooming, but in a romantic setting. It was the feeling of his heart taking flight, as if everything he came to love grew wings and aimed skyward. It was a flower that grew in his veins, branching out until every inch of him had been infected with delirity and infatuation—burning his skin and melting his words until he was nothing but flashing-hot blood and bone.
His feelings for Gaius were felt physically, and he no longer jumped or recoiled at the other's sudden touch. Instead, he leaned into it, closing his eyes against Gaius' calloused palms, and inclining his head so it fit into Gaius' hands, surrendering all but his willpower to the one person he could trust it with completely.
Gaius exhaled audibly, tone drenched in whimsy and affection. The smile that came along with it confirmed the same meaning.
Love. And when the others weren't looking, Gaius snatched kisses away from Henry's clumsy, chapped lips.
Needless to say, he tasted sweet.
.
.
They weren't sure what to expect when they returned to camp, but once they did, their temporary party split up and went their separate ways. Tharja huffed as she scampered off to her tent, muttering something about "wasted time" and "curses to take everything back which was stolen from her." On the other hand, Lon'qu went straight for the training grounds, eyes stony and hands eager to put more swordsmanship to use. Then there was Libra, who seemed relieved to be in familiar territory, but his steps were slow as he retreated to the healer's tent.
Gaius and Henry were the only ones left, and before, the two of them would separate and go their own ways, too. They didn't think anything of it as they fanned out into the Shepherds' camp, with two different mindsets working in tandem. Henry was the type of person to hide away into his own quarters, practicing black magic and reading through spellbooks when he had free time. If not, he could be found in any nearby woods, talking to crows, or sitting in cozy places that were far removed from the hustle and bustle of other people.
Gaius, meanwhile, was usually out and away. He had a penchant for sneaking off and getting himself into all sorts of trouble, not to mention the fact that he often needed to harvest materials for sweets on his own. If he wasn't trying to haggle vendors (Anna, specifically, so the two of them could share a laugh and talk about the past week's events), bake sweets, or gamble, he would usually be found in blacksmiths, jeweler's shops, or craft stores where he worked on anything that required technical use of hand. Be it ironworking, crafting, sewing, or cooking, Gaius was naturally skilled in all sorts of fields.
On other days, the two of them would be on their lonesome, and not worry about being alone.
Today, there was a natural trepidation that set in, and the two of them looked at each other with lost expressions on their faces. There was a hesitation to part, although it wouldn't be their first time doing so. Yet in spite of that, and in spite of the promise they made to always be together, they found difficulty in leaving each other's presence, even for trivial things that required them to leave.
Gaius reached out quietly for Henry's hand, fingers skimming the edge of his bangled wrist.
Henry grinned, and clamped their hands together in a tight embrace.
He could get used to this.
.
.
Although they were gone for less than a week, Henry discovered that there were already great changes among the Shepherds. The first of which materialized before his very eyes, as he and Ricken sat down in the mess hall to catch up on their time apart. Gaius was Henry's closest friend and first lover, sure, but Ricken was Henry's first friend, ever. Of all the people in Chrom's little army, Ricken was the first person to approach Henry of his own volition, and was the first stage of healthy social interaction that Henry had yet to bear.
The change came when they were eating their food, poring over eggs and life goals, wondering when the end of the war would be in sight. Just as Ricken was about to finish the last of his meal, the eggs went flying out of his hands, as something had rushed him from behind.
It was none other than Nowi, sparkling and singing as she jumped onto Ricken. As if in slow motion, Ricken's face twisted into something horrified, and Nowi's smile widened even more. The words "Nowi, don't—" lived and died on Ricken's lips, and Henry burst out into laughter as the two of them screamed (one out of fear, the other out of delight) before tumbling to the floor.
Kids these days!
"Hehehe! Ricken, there you are! I missed you!"
"N-Nowi…" They might have been on the floor and out of view, but Henry could perfectly envision Ricken's face: beet-red and inflated, flustered to no end. "You can't just rush me out of nowhere! I got so scared!"
"Sorry, but I can't help it!" She laughed and laughed and laughed, and although the manakete was known for being the overzealous type, this was more than just excess energy or happiness.
This was pure joy in a form so sacred, not even Henry could fathom his depths. Suddenly, he felt out of place, and briefly wondered if he should give the two of them some privacy.
As soon as he thought that, he realized what the change was.
"Ricken!" Henry exclaimed over the two of them. "I didn't know you and Nowi were lovers now!"
Henry watched with rapt attention as Ricken's face reddened further. It was a gradient that went from peachy-keen, to slightly flushed, to noticeably pink, to wondrously salmon, to deep red in the span of a few minutes. Before he turned scarlet, Nowi wrapped her arms around him, and kissed his cheek with passion.
She put the cherry on top of the disastrous cake by herself.
Henry admired that sort of bravery.
"Yup, yup! Didn't Ricken tell ya? He confessed to me a few days ago. It shocked me at first, but I'll be alive for so long, I don't see why I shouldn't hang out with Ricken for a long time, too! He even got me a—"
"No way," Henry exaggerated. "Don't say it! Don't tell me...Ricken, you sly Risen! Did you propose to Nowi? You gave her a ring and everything?"
"I...I—yes. Yes, I did. I was going to tell you, naturally, as it came up, but I guess I have no choice now."
"Wow! Congrats, I guess! Way to go! Now you two can band against the world and take us all out." Henry reached across the table and squeezed Ricken's arm tightly, only giggling at the elicited groans of displeasure that Ricken let out. "Ricken's magic combined with Nowi's manakete form? Talk about yikes times two!"
"You got that right!" Nowi cheered, happy that her good friend understood the nature of their relationship. "I just can't wait for this war to end! Then Ricken and I can play forever."
"Um, not forever, Nowi…"
"Right, I mean, for as long as we can!"
Henry went on to say, "I'm happy for you two. It seems like a good thing. This war has to end, so after it does, what're your plans?"
"Going back home, for starters," Ricken insisted. "I haven't seen my family in forever. I've been writing letters, but it's not the same."
"Family!" Nowi exclaimed, voicing the thoughts that she and Henry shared in that same moment. "Sacred wings! We're a family now, right?!"
"Y-Yes we are," Ricken said. He was more certain about it than his stutter implied. "You're my family, and I'm yours. I guess it's not something you're used to having, huh?"
Nowi's eyes sparkled, but there was something heavy about her lightness. Henry felt the weight on his heart—felt it settle on his shoulders like it belonged there—and slouched inwardly, embarrassed from having witnessed this moment.
Although her eyes were bright and wide, it took every ounce of her draconic willpower to resist crying.
Tears fell, nevertheless.
"Oh, Nowi…" Ricken reached forward and wiped her eyes with his long sleeve. "It's okay. I'm happy, too."
"Y-Yeah!" she sniffled. "I'm so happy, I have no idea why my eyes are sweating. It's just sweat, see? A lot of it. Uh, and—"
"Nowi, you don't have to lie about it!" Henry sprung up. "This is a good thing! I just learned this recently, but it's okay to cry when you're sad."
She stared at him, mouth agape, tears still flowing down her face. They were slower now, though, as if they, too, were processing his words in full. "I guess you're right."
"He is," Ricken agreed, despite sounding incredulous himself. What happened to Henry while they were apart? It must have been something drastic, because he never knew his friend to be so wise or emotionally stable before. "It's alright, Nowi. I'm here for you. Always."
"Okay, you guys are getting too mushy over there. I'll get going so I don't kill the mood like a summoning box full of Risen," Henry chimed as he stood to his feet. "Have fun, you crazy kids."
"We will!"
"Yeah, uh, sorry about this, Henry. Let's hang out some other time."
"Sure! What time is good for you?"
"Maybe tonight?"
"Oooh," Henry gasped. "No can do! I've got a date with Gaius, y'see, so I'd better keep it before he cuts me to bloody pieces!"
"That's fine, let's just hang out again when we can. Try not to do anything crazy, either, since I heard that Robin is forming teams for Risen control and village upkeep later today."
"Gotcha! See you around!"
"See you—" with a stutter and gasp, it dawned on him. It dawned on Nowi, too, but she was too overcome with her own emotions to pay any mind to Henry's words. But as soon as the realization formed in Ricken's mind, he jumped up to his feet, and shouted at Henry with a desperately high voice.
"Wait, you guys are dating now?"
"I can't hear you, Ricken! I'll talk to you after we're done kissing!"
"You kiss too?!"
.
.
Later that day, Henry encountered the one person that, frankly, he had never spoken to before. And it wasn't because of a bias (at least one he was aware of), or that they had a bad relationship, but rather it was due to the fact that the person's very existence was an enigma in and of itself.
Lucina stood there, and she seemed equally awkward that she was a part of Henry's group for the day's work. Henry still remembered the day he saw her: it was shortly after he set upon the Shepherds with a flock of crows and ravens, right after they were ambushed on Carrion Isle. It was the moment after this that Lucina revealed herself, despite herself not wanting to, and it was the same moment that Henry's path diverged from his original intent, as well.
Being daughter to the Ylissean throne and to Chrom and Sumia—two strange people by themselves, never mind the strangeness that became of their bond together—was no easy feat, but all the time travel shenanigans and the alternate timelines that existed because of her were even more difficult than that. Henry liked to joke that Lucina's reality-business was way above his pay grade, but he clearly understood the way things worked around her.
She once mentioned that there were other children, too, and it unnerved him to think that she was part of a future that once had plans for the rest of them. That she knew whether the soldiers lived or died, and who paired up with who, and what mark their choices made on history.
Before, Henry disliked the idea that he might be part of Lucina's former world—a father to one of her friends, a name recited in memory as he would soon die on the battlefield.
Now, he disliked the idea that he wasn't a part of her world at all. That his path changed from its original course ever since Gaius came around, and there would be little to no trace of him to survive in the next few years.
He wasn't sure why that was the case, though.
Luckily, Lucina felt brave on this fine afternoon, and initiated the first words in what would be the world's most awkward conversation. "Hello, Henry."
"Lucina," he greeted her happily, nonetheless. "It's you, me, Honeybuns, and Cordelia out on the town today. Supply runs and Risen rounds near this big city. Sounds like fun, huh?"
"I'm sure it does," she answered meekly. "I'll be honest, we haven't talked much. Or at all."
"True."
"So I wanted to change that, especially now since Gaius and Cordelia have yet to come. I wanted to tell you that I'm grateful to you, actually." She spoke in regality, the way that Chrom did, but carried herself with a natural distance and shyness, just as Sumia did. These fine movements and nearly unnoticeable details lead Henry to believe something for the first time.
Child-rearing might be the key to creating imperfect copies of one's self.
Interesting!
"Grateful to me? That's a new one," he admitted. "What for?"
"You never asked me how the future in my world looked like for you, in particular." She had one hand on the Parallel Falchion, while the other was kept at the hilt, ready and willing for whatever action might befall them in the midst of conversation. "Nearly everyone asked me about something...how long they lived, how many children they had, how many years until Grima...I simply ignored them, for their own good, or I divulged the information I was comfortable with."
"I see~ Even Miriel asked you, huh? I'm sure she wants to know if she has a mini-researcher on her hands or not."
"Even her. But I answered them all the same. I believe that the time should come when they meet their children with their own eyes. The ones from my world, and the ones that will soon form in this one—it's not so impossible to wait for them." Her gaze softened greatly as she looked him over with sympathy. He wasn't unused to the sight of it. "Yet you never bothered me with things like that. So I'm grateful."
"Aw gee, kid. Well, actually, can I call you kid if you're almost the same age as me?" Henry tilted his head carefully, and stared at her with open, dark blue eyes. "Anyway, I appreciate it. Although I am suspicious about your gratitude. You sure no one's cast a spell on you or something?"
"Positive," she reassured him. "I say this with an open heart."
"Open? Like gushing blood and stuff?"
Lucina, startled, stepped back. "What? No! I meant that I'm being sincere!"
"Whoops."
"I mean, I feel sincere enough that, since it's just the two of us, I'll let you ask me something about yourself. I remember you from my world, of course. Even if you're disinterested in this topic or you're having a hard time believing, I can tell you what I know to be true. As a way of thanks."
"You're too kind, Lucina. You must have gotten that from your parents."
"..."
"I never cared much about the future before. But I know that Ricken and Nowi are together, and I heard a rumor that Libra's going after Robin, or was it Tharja? There are so many rumors about kids flying around, so I'm curious. Will I have any children?" He purposefully left out the information about his current relationship, although the sight of Gaius fathering someone definitely came to mind. "Any little crows for my own nest, if you catch my drift?"
Much like her father, Lucina was quite humorless in the face of Henry's absurdity. She merely stared at him—stared long and hard with her navy blue eyes—and kept her mouth shut. After what felt like years of analyzing, she finally spoke.
Her eyes were trained to the ground.
"No," she said. "In my future, I met you once, and only as a child. You were partner-less then, and had no children of your own."
"Cool! So then—"
"You died on my sixth birthday."
"Oh."
She said he died, but somehow, he knew the meaning behind her words. People view death completely differently from one another, and Lucina was a girl hardened by war and apocalypse rolled into one. She brandished a sword that was heavier than it seemed, burdened by the balance of life itself, weighed down with regrets and stories that Henry would never be able to understand. He often saw her across the battlefield, at times, so practiced and poised it was hard to imagine that she ever struggled with a blade in her hand. Lucina wasn't the type of person to shy away from death.
But the look in her eyes was dark, and she didn't once lift her head to meet his. The fact that she offered some sacred information about her own timeline—one that was ruined, but could be used as a savior in the current timeline all the same—with someone like Henry was strange. In spite of her gratitude towards him, he knew there was something else at work.
The Henry of Lucina's old life had killed himself. It was a dark, odd conclusion to come to, but it felt natural and right, There was no other way to explain it.
She also mentioned he was partner-less, child-less, and just less in general if it meant that he went out so early, when the rest would live on to start life anew, and become threads in the great tapestry of her world.
While he couldn't say anything in defense of children or suicidal thoughts, the Henry of this timeline had a partner, for once. And it wasn't just any sucker that settled for less than their best. It was Gaius, who was slick and suave, but also a complete dork and shameless flirt, who had an awful temper but was also too laidback for anyone's liking. It was Gaius, who was once and enemy, always a friend, and most recently a lover.
It was Gaius. Henry had lost so much in his life, but for once, he could say that he had someone—that he had Gaius.
And it was so much more than he could ever ask for.
.
.
The actual mission was better than the pre-mission talk with Lucina had been. Once they reached the town, Cordelia naturally gravitated towards Lucina, and the two of them chatted away about whatever paragon ideals the two lady-warriors happened to share. Meanwhile, Gaius and Henry, almost ideally, walked at each other's side, talking about anything and everything.
The hot topic of the day happened to be family, and Gaius was the one to start it up. "So, y'know how Lucy talked about how there's a bunch of kids in the future, or whatever?"
Henry knew Gaius well enough to know that "Lucy" referred to the Chrom's daughter, Lucina, who was walking merely ten paces ahead of them, and could most definitely be in earshot of their conversation. Still, he pressed on as if that weren't the case. "Yeah, and what about it?"
"It's weird how we haven't met any of them yet. You'd think with all the new relationships cropping up in camp, there'd be kids by the handful."
"Lucy also mentioned that they got separated when they entered the magic portal to get to this timeline~" Henry reminded him. "So there's probably a reason for that."
"I know, but seriously, folks are moving fast. Probably since the war is almost over."
Henry squinted against the horizon. "Is it, though?"
"It is," Gaius said. "I can feel it in my bones."
"I have a spell that can actually read things from bones," Henry offered. "Actually, a whole practiced divination dedicated to bones and stuff. I've tried it with Risen parts but it never works."
"I'm not giving you my spine so you can practice black magic," Gaius scolded. "So quit while you're ahead."
"I'd never ask you for your spine. Now, for someone else's, that would be a different story—"
"Can I ask you something?"
He blinked. "Uh, okay? Couldn't wait for me to finish the joke, huh?"
"Sorry," Gaius cooed as he winked at him. "But something just occurred to me. I never asked you for what you're going to do after this whole war is over."
Henry stared as if dumbfounded. He had just gotten used to the new emotional depth provided for him, and now he had to think about restarting his whole life's purpose, as well? He gawked. "I don't know. Killing's pretty much all I'm good at."
"You don't want to settle down with Chrom's money and have an extended vacation somewhere?" Gaius raised a brow as he spoke. "Valmese mountain retreats, Ylissean hot springs, Plegian seasides—none of those strike inspiration?"
"Why would I vacay in Valm when everyone will hate me for being part of the army that snuffs them out?" Henry scoffed. "But I see your point. I've never given it thought, honestly."
"Okay, so how about this. If you've got nothing better to do after the war, you should just stick with me."
"Like, forever?"
"However long you want," Gaius said. He smiled easily, as calm and carefree as the winds around them. "I don't know what I'll do myself. I used to just steal and gamble like I do now. I might pick up something different."
"Don't tell me!" Henry gasped. "Is Sticky-Hands Gaius gonna run the straight and narrow?"
"For you? I might just."
"Who said anything about me? It's your life, silly." Henry laughed at his own expense, finding this entire conversation ridiculous in its entirety. "We can hang out, but I don't want to impose, even if I love you lots and don't ever want to be away from you."
At that moment in time, the four of them were just about finished with patrolling the town square, passing through all the villagers and stationed guards. Their next task was to do Risen control around populated areas, and then have supply runs once they finished with that. Yet, in spite of their timely schedule, Gaius seemed to work at his own pace, as he stared beyond Henry, and into the shop beside them.
It was a jewelry shop, and maybe it was because of the winter weather—so typical June-bride season was yet to come—but the prices were cheaper, and the advertisements more desperate to sell. Gaius noticed a beautiful array of rings, and saw how a lovely couple stood inside, gasping at a beautiful sapphire ensemble.
Gaius looked back to Henry, smiling so wide that it was hard to tell he thought of anything important just now. "Well, you never know, Henry," he said. "Things can always change."
.
.
"Whoa, two Nowis! Did the cloning spell actually work, or did I get hit too badly during those Risen rounds?" Henry's voice was loud and piercing as he walked towards the firepit, and continued to be that way even as he plopped himself down next to Ricken and company.
The two Nowis stared at them, one more noticeably confused than the other.
Ricken sputtered. "W-Well, that's—"
"Didn't Ricken tell you?" The slightly bigger Nowi asked. Her cheerful voice wasn't lacking in energy, necessarily, but there was definitely something subdued about her tone just now—irreverent, even. "We found her."
"Who did you find?"
"Nah."
"Well, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
"No, I mean, her name is Nah!" Bigger Nowi gave the smaller Nowi—whose name was apparently Nah—a tiny shake. The little girl squealed out of disapproval. "She's our daughter! From the future!"
Henry leaned forward as much as he could, and stared hard at Nah, who sat before him. She was cuddled into her mother's arms, with her father noticeably embarrassed and looking away from the entire situation. But Nah wasn't like Ricken at all, since she kept her gaze even and still. She had Nowi's manakete ears and general body shape, but her eyes were deep and brown, much like Ricken's. Her hair was also closer to his, as her strands fell in even, dark-red sweeps. The campfire cast shadows that made it hard to see, but he could still make out a light spattering of freckles across her face—over her nose bridge and under her eyes, most noticeably.
She was a perfect mix of both of them, yet entirely her own person, all the same. It amazed Henry to no end, but he vaguely understood the idea of people disliking close forms of inspection, so he quickly backed off once he realized it. "Whoa, you're right! Nah here is like Nowi and Ricken at the same time. But it's weird since you look the same age as your Mom."
"Well, it's because I'm half-human," she explained, as if that in and of itself was a thorough explanation. "I age closer to a human, but I'm still pretty young compared to her."
"I see!" Henry cooed. "So, how long were you hitchhiking for until your folks found you in one piece?"
"Henry!" Ricken cut in. "She was not hitchhiking. We were out on patrols and she was being attacked. So, uh, we reunited her with Lucina and she decided to join us until this whole war is over."
Nah seemed to calm down at this revelation, and her eyes turned watery and soft. Definitely more like Ricken, but Henry knew enough about Nowi to surmise that it could have come from her, too. The dragon girl continued to say, "It's the best arrangement for now. But I won't stay forever. The Nah of this timeline is going to be born one day, and she's got to grow up, too. So when she does, I don't want to make things complicated…"
"Y'know, it's funny, I was just talking to Lucy—Lucina—about this earlier. I knew more kiddos would come up, but I didn't know it would be this fast," Henry admitted. "Well, I guess I should leave the big ol' magic family alone for now. You've got a lot to catch up on, huh?"
"Henry," Ricken started. "Listen, I—"
"Don't worry about Uncle Henry," he ignored Ricken as he spoke to Nah. The realization of his words hit, and he gasped with new fervor. "Wait, can I be your uncle? Oh, can I, please?"
"I mean, I don't see why not! Nowi has no siblings and I don't think Ricken does, either," Nowi herself said as she looked to Ricken. "He can be Uncle Henry! That sounds fun!"
The sage looked unamused at this development. There was a lecture on his end waiting to be said, but it would have to be saved for another day. "Fine," he muttered. "See you around, Henry."
"Bye Ricken! Bye Nowi! Bye Nah!" He waved three times, then spun on his heels, aimed at nowhere in particular because he actually wanted to stay, but understood that in moments like these, it was best to leave. "Tomorrow, we'll find two more kids, and even more after that. So you don't have to be lonely."
Nah perked up. "You think so?" Lucina was there, but she was clearly older and more world-weary, as she had little to say, even to Nah. "Do you really think so?"
Henry smiled, shouting over his shoulder: "I know so, kid!"
.
.
Tuesday.
Miriel returned from the city's largest library, with a young man in tow. Henry assumed it was a new assistant hired to help her with scholarly pursuits, but they smiled at each other knowingly, and he clung to her hand with something like a lost love.
Together with similar hats and a prescription so bad that it was any wonder they saw at all, and Henry understood he was looking at Miriel's child. His name is Laurent, and he was one of the older children who followed after Lucina the moment she left. However, he got separated from her, and decided to devote his time to studying, afraid to confront his mother ahead of time.
His hair was dark brown, so Henry didn't realize who his father was, until Stahl stumbled out from the kitchen, and embraced Laurent with full force and half hesitation.
Henry looked away. Why was he assigned kitchen duty today, of all days?
Wednesday.
Libra acted more skittish than usual. Henry, against his better judgement, found out it was because he recently proposed to Tharja, the two of them bonding ever since their escapade with the merchant, Tarun. He heard rumors of Libra going for Robin, or Tharja going for Robin, but then he wondered if those were lies spread by Libra and Tharja themselves.
When they rescued a bumbling (but also terrifying) Noire from bandits, Henry sighed at the sight of her: platinum blonde hair, a wiry physique, and a cleverness that could outmatch both of her parents if she wasn't so scared of them. Mostly, it was Tharja to blame, but Libra could hardly do anything to deny her, given their differences in strength.
Come Thursday, and Chrom and his wifey, Sumia, retrieved their second child, just to make things better. Another girl with navy-blue hair, only she wore hers up in pigtails, and nose-dived into Sumia the second she saw her. "Mom!" she screamed, nearly crying into her arms. How couldn't she cry when she spent all these years serving a fake Chrom, thinking it was her father all along? Apparently, he died in her timeline at such a young age, and she never had the chance to really know him.
It was Cynthia's naivety that really did it in for Henry, and he had to excuse himself from the mess hall that night.
He wasn't liking where all of this was going.
.
.
"What do you think about kids, Honeybuns?"
Gaius almost dropped his sword completely. He stared up at Henry with a funny expression, before asking, "Uh, they're cute? I mean, the army's seein' a bunch of them because of Lucy and the future reckoning, or whatever the hell, but I don't have any particular opinions." Gauging Henry's expression, Gaius was careful before adding, "And you?"
Henry swung his legs back and forth. The two of them were assigned armory upkeep, which mostly meant that Gaius did all of the hard work, and Henry wondered why people even bothered with weapons if magic existed. At the very least, he made sure the oil was restocked, and separated the broken weapons from the newer ones. He swung the remains of a rusted old sword in his hands as he spoke. "I thought they were cute but now they're just annoying. How many are gonna show up until this war is over? It's no place to be having kids, y'know."
"No one's having kids right now," Gaius pointed out. "The kids that are cropping up are from the future, or did you forget?"
"Can't forget if that's all anyone talks about."
"If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were jealous."
Henry gasped dramatically, and placed the broken sword over his chest. "Me? Jealous? Gaius, do you even know me?"
"I do, that's why I know you're not jealous. Not for a fact, anyway."
"Oh yeah? Then what am I?"
"You're—" he almost said lonely but stopped himself before he could— "impatient. I want this war to be over, too. I can't wait for it, actually."
"Me either! 'Cause afterward, we're gonna hang out, right?" Henry giggled as he swung the sword around, again. "And then I don't have to see another kid 'til I die."
"Yeah," Gaius agreed, burying the lead under the coolness of his voice. "We'll hang out."
I won't ever leave your side.
.
.
One of the last missions Henry would ever be assigned to, as a member of Chrom's army, was to help get rid of human traffickers terrorizing a small town. It wasn't a gaggle of bandits, or some well-placed thugs, but rather a large group of people who used the war efforts as an excuse to treat people with cruelty. Chrom was a good man, and the Shepherds were fighting for a good cause, but none of them could have ever expected something like this to happen.
Fighting broke out once their positions were found, and it was the bloodiest battle they'd had for a long time. In the thick of it, Henry ducked underneath branches and dodged assailing spells, all so he could cross the battlefield in the nick of time and reunite with Gaius. The two of them were assigned to opposite sides of the formation, but everything was thrown out of the window when all hell broke loose.
Henry barely dodged a flurry of arrows, the sharper end of one slicing through his clothing and skimming his abdomen. He cursed under his breath, and brought down the sniper with a flash of lightning. "Gaius!" he shouted in the midst of the fight. "Watch your back!"
"You too!" Gaius cried out as he barely evaded a knight's lance, only to slide underneath their heavy armor and slash at an opening there. Blood sprayed and hit his face, but he didn't falter as he sprung up to his feet, and slashed them from behind. The metal (and the person inside of it) thudded to the ground helplessly, still after a few seconds.
Gaius wiped at his face, but it only caused the blood to smear. He grimaced and said, "I heard Bubbles talking, and they've got some kids held up in a cellar beyond. Think you and I can sneak over there and save 'em before things get bad?"
Henry assessed the situation: fliers screaming as arrows brought them out of the sky, with Cordelia leading the vanguard and skewering whoever got in the way—not to mention the sound of flames spiralling upward, Tharja and Miriel blasting rows of soldiers with fire, Laurent and Noire sniping stragglers from behind them. Chrom and Sumia had also taken a lead on the eastern front, with Chrom riding behind Sumia on her pegasus, only to fling himself off and slice an enemy from a skyward attack. There was blood and battle waged in every corner, but there was no one to check on the last of the trafficking victims.
He nodded at once. "Let's go."
The two of them cut down a final sniper, before breaking through the treeline and heading to the base of operations.
Silent as death itself.
.
.
Henry didn't know what to expect when they got there. Plenty of the human trafficking victims were rescued before the fighting broke out, and he remembered their gaunt faces and filthy clothing—the blood that clung to them in dried, black stains as they shivered for warmth, praying to any of the Gods that were out there to save them in their time of need.
The house they found was covered in blood and grime, with bodies lying on the wayside. The Shepherds had been through here already, and Henry recognized the faces of some of their own. He closed their dead, open eyes (a process which he learned from Gaius) before heading inside after the assassin in question.
Gaius was silent for a moment, judging the darkness of the house before grabbing a torch and setting it on fire. "How'd you do that?" Henry asked. He didn't even get a chance to set anything on fire with his magic, yet!
"Had some flint on me," was his explanation. "Don't worry about the torch."
They won't be needing it anymore.
"Oh," Henry said, and his voice echoed.
Things were much worse inside. Here, there were twice as many bodies as there were outside, and it seemed a struggle happened from within. There were children—far too many children—lying face-down, motionless. In their dirty rags and skinny bodies, Henry could only imagine the kind of torture they'd been through, until they decided they couldn't take it anymore, and brought the fight to them, instead.
"Damn, what the hell happened here?" Gaius muttered, crouching down low. He swung the torch close to the corpses, the light revealing strange black stains and marred flesh. "Is it magic?"
"Yeah, but nothing complicated." Henry bent down, and pressed his fingers to the singed meat. "Just fire magic. Although none of those guards look like mages."
"Then who the hell did this?"
The further in they went—beyond the image of the small house, and into a series of underground tunnels connected to a wine cellar—the more the flames became noticeable, and the walls were covered in ash, bodies burned to a crisp. They couldn't discern if the victims were children or adults, as everything had been reduced to soot and embers.
When they reached the furthest end of the tunnel, they didn't need a torch anymore, as the walls around them were illuminated by orange sparks coming out of the walls—fires from a recently burning blaze.
There were two children, crouched on the floor below them. One of them was sobbing. "Go away," they cried out. "Y-You too, you'll burn!"
Gaius looked to Henry. The sorcerer motioned for him to stay put, and carefully approached the child on his own accord.
This felt familiar, somehow.
He smiled as he got down to their level. "Hey, don't be afraid," he said in response to their tiny screams, which died in the backs of their throats as muffled sobs. "I've got no weapons, see? Just me and my books."
Up close, Henry could make out the features of the two children. One was a girl with long brown hair and bright blue eyes, while the other was a boy—much younger and shorter, as he had his body buried into her side—with black hair and red eyes.
The eyes were too red, as if the magic coursing through them still remained.
Henry inhaled slowly, then ushered them to do the same. "Deep breaths, kids. Come on, after me. It's okay, the Shepherds are here to save you now!"
"Don't! It's not safe, we—"
"Listen, I'm way better at the flaming stuff than you are. I can cancel out most spells and curses in a pinch," he bragged, but with every intent of calming them down. "No one's gonna get hurt, here. No one's gonna die."
"Are you—do you promise?"
Henry grinned and held out his hand to them. They cowered at his every movement, but they managed to maintain eye contact, nonetheless. "I promise!"
"...Okay," the girl conceded. She reached out one hand and held onto Henry's, then looked down to her companion besides her. "Come on, El. Your turn."
"But I—"
"It's okay," she echoed Henry's words from before, in a tone that was less scared but still desperate, all the same. "Just take his hand. Come on, you can do it."
"It'll burn," he whimpered. "I-I don't wanna burn...no more…"
"It's okay."
The boy sighed, and carefully outstretched his hands. Henry stared at his fingers, and noticed the way that his skin was aglow with a soft, red hue—residual magic leftover from an uncontrolled fire spell. Henry felt the warmth emanate from the hand alone, and focused hard on cancelling it out with his own power. Water to wash the flames away, ice to counteract the burn. He thought of mist and fog and wind, waves crashing onto the shore and erasing everything from existence. Sand, fire, life itself. Henry focused these thoughts into himself, and reached out for the boy's hand.
The redness faded and steam escaped between the digits, but it was enough to calm him down. The children gasped while Henry laughed, and squeezed his hand against theirs with sheer joy. "See, what'd I tell ya? I'm a-okay and you guys are fine, too!"
"That's—how did you—"
"Let's get you up, okay? Gaius, come help now."
He almost forgot he was there in the first place, totally entranced by Henry's display of magic just now. "Right," he said, and quickly walked over to help. He offered his hand to the girl, still wary of the flames that were once burning brightly in this place. Luckily, she understood at once, and accepted his help graciously.
That left Henry with the boy, and just as he had clung to the girl, he now clung to the sorcerer for dear life. Was this how it felt to touch another person without setting them aflame, turning their existence to dust and ash? Was this the coolness of acceptance, of generosity and kindness within?
Was this salvation in its purest form?
At some point, Henry realized the boy was now hugging him, and he did his best to hug back. "There, there," he said, with the most comfort in his voice he could possibly muster. "You're alright now! You are, see!"
"I...thank you, sir."
"Ha, there's no 'sir' about it! So, you crazy kids wanna explain what happened here?"
Gaius glared as he held onto the girl, opting to carry her but she refused. Instead, he held her hand, and seemed to share in disdain over Henry's blunt statements. "Henry, you can't just ask something like that—"
"Those guys, the scary ones...they took us from home," the boy began to say. He was oddly calmer now, and they couldn't help but wonder if Henry's magic had eased him somewhat. "They killed everyone in the village and stole a bunch of kids. They said we were going to be sacrifices for Grima, that we were worth a fortune. I-I…"
"And why are you all down here?"
"They put us here," the girl grumbled. "Then some fight broke out. One of them killed another girl, I saw it! Then the kids started fighting, so they started stabbing them, and they were making their way down to us, down to the back. El started glowing all funny, and they singled him out. The next thing I knew, I was—I was awake, and the place was on fire. But I could breathe, and El was fine, too."
Henry thought about a certain hunter's net, and electricity sparking out from his body in a rather desperate situation. He hadn't heard many stories like his own, but this boy—El, apparently—was just like him. Only instead of zapping his foes to death, he burned them—and all the other murdered children—to ash.
That was so sick! Henry resisted every urge to congratulate him on his first successful use of magic, instead deciding to run a hand through his hair. "Well, you're just fine, now! But to be honest, it smells bad down here, and there's a lot of dead boys and girls. We'd better get out of here."
"I agree," Gaius said. "Come on."
The two of them ushered the children out of the tunnels, and then out of the house entirely. Surrounded by bodies on all fronts, they lead the kids to the forest, where they were met by some of the Shepherds' cavalry, led by none other than Stahl himself. "What happened?" he asked. "These kids—"
"Survivors," Gaius said as he half-threw the girl onto Stahl's horse. Henry did the same with the boy, who was thin enough to squeeze in on the space of the saddle. "They need a healer. Where are the others?"
Stahl readjusted the saddle before answering. "Fine. We got the last of them, but suffered more losses than Robin intended. There's a retreat and we were sweeping the area. You guys need a lift back to camp?"
Henry wished he'd brought his 'transform-into-a-giant-crow' spell with him, because that would be a sick way to end the day. Instead, he merely shrugged, and Gaius nodded. "Please," he said. "It's been a long day."
In the end, Henry and Gaius hitched a ride with two other cavaliers, riding behind Stahl with the kids in sight. All the while, the two children kept looking behind them, and Henry pitied them. They were scared, still, and wondering if those terrible men would try to kill them again when they were least expecting it.
It wasn't until they reached camp, and until Henry and Gaius brought the two children to Maribelle's tent, specially, that Henry realized he was wrong.
They weren't looking back for enemies or nightmares or seen.
They were looking at Henry and Gaius, with nothing but admiration in their eyes.
He couldn't explain why he felt so happy, knowing that as he did.
.
.
"Maribelle's got you guys all cleaned up, see? How ya feeling?"
"Fine," the girl murmured. "T-Thank you. You saved us."
"No problem!" Henry jumped onto the bedroll with them, earning a warning from Gaius, but eliciting a laugh from the children, all the same. "Who are you guys, anyway? I'm Henry, and that grump over there is Gaius."
"Hey, I'm not a grump!"
The girl laughed, but the boy remained quiet. He was shyer than she was, and waited for her to speak first, always. "My name is Gwendolyn," she introduced. "But you can call me Gwen. This is my little brother, Ellery. I call him El but he doesn't mind either way."
"Gwen and El," Henry repeated. "That's cute! And you're siblings?"
"Our parents got married right before they died."
Ouch. Gaius sighed. "Well, they're gone now, like you said, so once this whole thing is over, we've gotta figure out some place to put you."
"W-We're not going back to that scary place, right?" Ellery's eyes—which, when they weren't glowing with powerfully raw magic—were green and downcast. He squeezed tightly at Gwendolyn's arm, as if it were his lifeline. "Please don't send us somewhere scary."
"No, don't worry, you won't be somewhere scary. In fact, I have a great idea!"
"Henry," Gaius warned preemptively. "Don't—"
"Why don't you stay with me?" Henry gasped at his own suggestion. "I have, like, nothing going for me after the war! Why not take care of a couple of snot-noses, myself?"
"S-Snot...noses? I do not!" Gwendolyn covered her nose and mouth with one hand, embarrassed at the thought. Ellery, on the other hand, giggled at her expense—seemingly in agreement with Henry's ill humor.
Oh no, Gaius thought. I am not leaving him with these kids. What is he thinking? "Henry, no offense, but you don't know the first thing about child-rearing."
"Neither do you!" he countered, as if that made a difference. "And they're not kids anymore, are they? El's got the start of his very own body count!"
Ellery flinched at the words, no longer finding them humorous, but struggling to smile at Henry's good intentions, anyway.
Gwendolyn, on the other hand, was completely shocked at this turnout, leaving Gaius by himself to reason out this line of thinking.
Of course it was up to him. He sighed again. "This is exactly what I mean. I don't think it's a good idea for you to do it alone."
"Well, do you have any other ideas?"
Gaius went quiet.
"I mean, maybe we can have Ricken and Nowi take care of them? But they already have Nah, and I don't know if they can handle two more."
"Let's talk about this some other time. These two need to rest," Gaius said. His voice was off, though, in a tiny way that Henry was sure no one else would notice but him. Yet he noticed, and his eyes narrowed suspiciously as a result.
What was he getting at? He'd have to find out later. "Fine," Henry muttered, not quite ready to let go of the idea of fathering them, himself. "You two should probably go to sleep. How old are you, anyway? Still old enough for bedtime stories?"
"I'm seven, and he's five," Gwendolyn explained. "Mom was homeschooling him and I finished my first two years at a public school." Her chest puffed out as she went on to say, "I was the smartest in our class, I'll have you know!"
"Oh, I know. You and El can tell each other stories, then. We've got work to do in the meantime." Gaius motioned to Henry, and the two of them head outside, parting the tent flaps with careful movements. "Call out for Maribelle if you need anything."
"Okay," Gwendolyn said.
"G-Good night," Ellery squeaked, still afraid after all this time. Poor kid.
"Good night!" Henry waved to them, smile never leaving his face. He called out in a louder voice, "Sweet dreams!"
"Henry, stop shouting, it's late—"
"Don't let the Risen bite!"
"Henry!"