What We Leave Behind [fic]
Title: What We Leave Behind
Game: Pre- and In Game Binding Blade (FE6)
Characters: Guinivere, Miledy, Zephiel, Ellen, Desmond
Pairings: Guinivere/Miledy
Genre: Angst, Romance, Political Intrigue
Prompt: FE6 - Miledy/Guinivere-Regrets
Warnings: Drabble Fic, references to manipulation and emotional abuse
Summary: There was admiration and love between them, but knight and queen regret the lingering distrust.
When her training was diverted from army officer to Queen's Guard, at sixteen, Miledy thought she knew anger. She was top in all of her classes at the hatchery, and every midwinter since she had graduated into the officer's training at the Bern Palace-all two of them, but she knew that was enough experience-she had defeated all comers in the jousts, and only fallen in the foot fighting to seasoned veterans with years more sword work under their belts.
She yelled, pushed beyond anger, at her mentor, who had guided her through two years of officer training that she was the best, and keeping her from having a chance at generalship just so she could baby sit a sheltered noble relative was a disgrace. It was not Miledy's finest day, watching the forbidding lips of Colonel Liara of Mount Grunau thin, and knowing that she had over stepped her bounds. Watching those bounds fall away as she turned, nearly stepped on a small noblewoman and was taken aback by the nervous curtsey. Hearing, in a tone so withering that her ears went red and Miledy wanted to curl into a ball and die, that this was the noble she had to babysit, and the King had ordered her especially because she was the best of her generation, to babysit this one noble girl, Guinivere of Bern.
Miledy bowed stiffly, and Guinivere curtsied again, smiling shyly. Miledy always regretted the meeting.
Seven months later, and Guinivere placed the greatest test before Miledy without meaning to. She had meant for her valiant protector, who had so far fended off some bandits, who had appeared when Guinevere went to see one of the noble women who actually spoke to her in Dame Urasa's summer home, to become an unquestioned fixture before harvest time, the end of the summer campaigns, and the return of the Western Army. However, the adventure with the bandits meant that everyone was still speaking of Miledy by the time the Western Army returned to the palace to be stood down for winter exercises, and Guinevere ran across the courtyard as usual to throw herself into her brother's arms.
The jubilant arc she made through the air as Zephiel swung her around, and the books he piled into her arms when he let her feet touch the ground made her completely forget to be guarded in her answers to the innocent questions about how she had fared that year. Upon word of Miledy's daring rescue, her brother bowed, and thanked Miledy with all sincerity. He then scheduled, with the ease of someone speaking of the weather, a complete debriefing of the incident.
Miledy only managed to escape the interrogation when the Recitations Bell clanged warningly to herald the false dawn. Guinivere always regretted exposing her guard to her brother's close scrutiny in such a manner.
Two years later, after she was named full captain of Guinevere's guard, Miledy was summoned by the King for a congratulatory brandy, as was tradition. She sat gingerly on a too-comfortable chair, and answered dutifully as King Desmond paced between his desk, the fireplace, and the window, mentioning inconsequentials like the speed of the falling snowflakes, and the growth of wyverns this year. At the end of the conference, he reminded his wyvern knight that she had a duty to the crown to give him weekly progress reports on Guinivere's movements, who she saw, and who she spoke to.
Some days in the intervening years, Miledy regretted, deeply regretted, not resigning right there, in that stuffy room. She never regretted having lied to her king, once a week, every week, until he died.
When Guinivere was riding through the night, the jewel from the shrine burning her through the saddlebag, and Ellen guiding their remounts along beside her, she spared a thought for her guard. She had lied to Miledy and Zephiel, betrayed Bern, and worst of all, she had involved Ellen in her schemes. But Ellen could not be left innocent to face Zephiel. Bern could not be allowed to go to war against the whole world. Zephiel-she could make no sense of her brother and his actions any more. And Miledy. Her determined, brave guard. Miledy, who had been better than all the other guards before, still had reported to her father, just like all the guards before, and must report to Zephiel even now.
She still regretted leaving her friend to bear the results of Zephiel's reaction upon learning that the Fire Emblem and his sister had disappeared.
As Guinivere menaced her with a sword too heavy for the princess of Bern to lift, Miledy had to swallow back her horror. She regretted never making her loyalty clear. She regretted ever having left her princess in the dark as to what her father had asked, and where Miledy had stood on the matter. She regretted never having told Guinivere that such orders had never even crossed Zephiel's lips, and probably not even entered that hard, calculating mind, driven as it was towards grander designs.
Heedless of the danger of fear and luck being on a beginner's side, she dared the sword, and babbled her apology, speaking honestly to her princess. She never regretted a single word, or the actions she took after them.
Guinivere did not regret taking her time in the great palace of Etruria, while the army was getting ready to storm the holy tower. She loitered in the sunbeams slanting through the stained glass, waiting for Miledy to finish settling her little brother in with the rest of Roy's band. Her guard found her, bathed in the light of the holy maiden amidst the stars. They walked together in silence for a time, hand in hand, contemplating the mysteries of love and betrayal.
In the end, for both of them, love won out. Miledy still tasted of acrid metal after the battle, and there was another fight coming, but none of it really mattered.
Roy led the frail form of the dragon, of the priestess, of her king's dream toward the lake, to let her rinse off the blood. Miledy watched at a careful distance, her hand on her Queen's shoulder. Guinivere was crying again. Miledy breathed out.
Guinevere glanced up with watery eyes. “It is over, then?”
Miledy nodded, kissing the top of her Queen's head. “Tomorrow, everything else will begin.”