Fire Emblem fic
...Hector/Eliwood, in a heavily implied sort of way. Warning: since I have been practicing my sleepytime away, this is not quality writing. Ignore it and focus on the concept. And dialogue, which isn't bad.
(This is also a sneek peek of two fics: Under the Ivy, and... actually, a whole Hector/Eliwood love saga. HAHA. I could go into my analysis of their relationship and how it's the SADDEST THING EVER OMG SINGLE TEAR but I'll spare you. Suffice it to say I love them madly.)
There has been a battle. They have won.
No other statement has quite the same effect, or explains so much of the festivities taking place in their makeshift camp on the Dread Isle. Wine flows like water. Laughter and merriment echo through the dark hills. A good time is had by all.
Lord Eliwood and Lady Lyndis sit together, in companionable silence, some distance away from the noise of the nearest bonfire. The latter is nursing a mug of Etrutrian ale. The former is staring across the flames as Hector lifts up girls on a board.
This is something he learned to do in school. Hector was known for being an awkward dancer, so the daughters of nobility from the nearby finishing school avoided him at balls. He found ways to keep himself otherwise amused during these engagements. One of them was to hoist benches (occupied by girls who weren't dancing either) onto his shoulders and carry them around the ballroom. This got him into trouble.
(Sometimes, when Hector had been politely shown the door for exhibiting this 'talent' so often, Eliwood found him outside staring grimly at the hall door. He turned to Eliwood, cleared his throat, and extended a hand. "Let's dance."
"I... I don't know how to follow," he had replied dumbly.
Hector shrugged. "I'll follow, then. I'm no good at these things anyway."
They had danced several sets together. They only stopped when Hector noticed that Eliwood's hands were getting cold and sent him inside.)
Now, using a length of wood taken from Merlinus' tent, he is lifting several army members above his head. The girls- or mostly girls, Lucius is quite drunk and has apparently agreed to be a part of this spectacle- laugh and clutch the edges for dear life.
Hector's face is bright with sweat. He looks proud, even of such a small thing.
"Do you mind," Lyn asks quietly by his side, "if I speak my thoughts? I don't want to offend you."
Eliwood shakes his head. "No, not at all."
Lyn smiles sheepishly and looks him in the eye. Eliwood has to turn around to meet her gaze. As he does, he realizes that he has been staring at Hector for so long he can see him even without looking. He closes his eyes briefly, trying to burn that image into his memory.
"I... I used to envy you your sense of duty," starts Lyn. She takes another sip of her drink and shudders a little as it runs down her throat. "I would do anything for my grandfather, but it's not the same. You're devoted to your family, your house, Pherae... all of Lycia. I still do find that admirable. But all the same..."
Her voice takes on a dreamy quality, as it usually does when she speaks of Sacae. "I miss the plains. I miss the wild stretches of grass where my village would ride. I long for them... and although my heart keeps me in Caelin, it also calls me back to my home. I know you also have... things that you wish for."
(Eliwood follows her gaze to the other side of the fire, where Hector is laughing and drinking half a wine bottle in one go. He wipes his mouth with a the back of his hand. Eliwood bites his lip hard.)
"There's a difference between us. One day, my duty will give way to my own desires. Then I will return to Sacae." She pauses for a moment, apparently deep in thought. "I do not think that there will ever be such a day for you. And I pity you that."
Eliwood coughs as though smoke from the bonfire has been blown into his lungs. "Lyn, I..."
"I'm sorry." Lyn turns away, shaking her head. "I spoke rashly. In my village, we often said that drink is the mortal enemy of restraint. Please forget my words."
"No, not at all," replies Eliwood with an attempt at a gracious smile. "I only wish you wouldn't worry about me. My duty makes me very happy. I have no need of anything else." He rises from his seat. "I think I'll retire for the night. I could use a good night's sleep, after today."
(But for that night, and many nights afterwards, his sleep is restless and filled with strange dreams.)
(This is also a sneek peek of two fics: Under the Ivy, and... actually, a whole Hector/Eliwood love saga. HAHA. I could go into my analysis of their relationship and how it's the SADDEST THING EVER OMG SINGLE TEAR but I'll spare you. Suffice it to say I love them madly.)
There has been a battle. They have won.
No other statement has quite the same effect, or explains so much of the festivities taking place in their makeshift camp on the Dread Isle. Wine flows like water. Laughter and merriment echo through the dark hills. A good time is had by all.
Lord Eliwood and Lady Lyndis sit together, in companionable silence, some distance away from the noise of the nearest bonfire. The latter is nursing a mug of Etrutrian ale. The former is staring across the flames as Hector lifts up girls on a board.
This is something he learned to do in school. Hector was known for being an awkward dancer, so the daughters of nobility from the nearby finishing school avoided him at balls. He found ways to keep himself otherwise amused during these engagements. One of them was to hoist benches (occupied by girls who weren't dancing either) onto his shoulders and carry them around the ballroom. This got him into trouble.
(Sometimes, when Hector had been politely shown the door for exhibiting this 'talent' so often, Eliwood found him outside staring grimly at the hall door. He turned to Eliwood, cleared his throat, and extended a hand. "Let's dance."
"I... I don't know how to follow," he had replied dumbly.
Hector shrugged. "I'll follow, then. I'm no good at these things anyway."
They had danced several sets together. They only stopped when Hector noticed that Eliwood's hands were getting cold and sent him inside.)
Now, using a length of wood taken from Merlinus' tent, he is lifting several army members above his head. The girls- or mostly girls, Lucius is quite drunk and has apparently agreed to be a part of this spectacle- laugh and clutch the edges for dear life.
Hector's face is bright with sweat. He looks proud, even of such a small thing.
"Do you mind," Lyn asks quietly by his side, "if I speak my thoughts? I don't want to offend you."
Eliwood shakes his head. "No, not at all."
Lyn smiles sheepishly and looks him in the eye. Eliwood has to turn around to meet her gaze. As he does, he realizes that he has been staring at Hector for so long he can see him even without looking. He closes his eyes briefly, trying to burn that image into his memory.
"I... I used to envy you your sense of duty," starts Lyn. She takes another sip of her drink and shudders a little as it runs down her throat. "I would do anything for my grandfather, but it's not the same. You're devoted to your family, your house, Pherae... all of Lycia. I still do find that admirable. But all the same..."
Her voice takes on a dreamy quality, as it usually does when she speaks of Sacae. "I miss the plains. I miss the wild stretches of grass where my village would ride. I long for them... and although my heart keeps me in Caelin, it also calls me back to my home. I know you also have... things that you wish for."
(Eliwood follows her gaze to the other side of the fire, where Hector is laughing and drinking half a wine bottle in one go. He wipes his mouth with a the back of his hand. Eliwood bites his lip hard.)
"There's a difference between us. One day, my duty will give way to my own desires. Then I will return to Sacae." She pauses for a moment, apparently deep in thought. "I do not think that there will ever be such a day for you. And I pity you that."
Eliwood coughs as though smoke from the bonfire has been blown into his lungs. "Lyn, I..."
"I'm sorry." Lyn turns away, shaking her head. "I spoke rashly. In my village, we often said that drink is the mortal enemy of restraint. Please forget my words."
"No, not at all," replies Eliwood with an attempt at a gracious smile. "I only wish you wouldn't worry about me. My duty makes me very happy. I have no need of anything else." He rises from his seat. "I think I'll retire for the night. I could use a good night's sleep, after today."
(But for that night, and many nights afterwards, his sleep is restless and filled with strange dreams.)