Fan Fiction ❯ On Account of Rain ❯ Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Fire Emblem or its characters. I'm borrowing them temporarily, but I promise to give them back completely restored.

Author's Note: I'd like to thank Thea for beta-reading this for me.

Backdating: This was written in May 2005.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Kent glanced worriedly up at the overcast sky. He wasn't worried about getting wet; he and Sain were both soaked through already, thanks to the last storm to race through the area. It had been the fifth in two days, however, and if this was a new one approaching, Kent and Sain would have to dismount and hold their horses until the worst of the thunder and lightning passed. Between the storms and the washed-out bridge they'd encountered that morning, it looked like they might have to spend another night camped out in the open before they reached Bulgar.

Behind him, Sain was muttering darkly under his breath. Normally Kent would chastise him for having such a negative attitude about their duties, but he had to admit that his own thoughts weren't free of discontent at the moment. Besides, it was entertaining to listen to the elaborate vitriol that Sain could bend his natural eloquence to when provoked. Kent didn't curse because it was crude and unmannerly; Sain didn't curse because he didn't need vulgarities to thoroughly demean whatever irritated him. Not that the good-natured cavalier often displayed the sharp edge of his silver tongue, but these circumstances would try the patience of Saint Elimine herself.

Arden's ears pricked, the gelding tensing slightly, and Kent reached down to pat his horse's chestnut neck. "Easy, boy," he murmured, but there had been no flash of lightning or crack of thunder to prompt Arden's unease, and the way he lifted his head had seemed more eager than alarmed. As if he'd heard a call to arms.... Sitting up straighter in the saddle, Kent held out a hand, cutting off Sain's ranting mid-word. "Do you hear anything?"

Sain straightened as well, tilting his head slightly. "Fighting, in the distance," he said after a moment, confirming what Kent's ears had also caught. "Do you think we should-"

He was interrupted by a scream from the same direction. It sounded like a name, though it was just muffled enough by the rise and fall of the land and the scattered patches of forest that they couldn't quite make it out. The anger and fear in it were unmistakable, however, and the pitch seemed to indicate that it was a woman's cry. The two cavaliers glanced at each other, brown and hazel eyes meeting for a split second, and they both nodded. Then Kent spurred Arden towards the source of the scream, and Sain wheeled Gwenyth around to fall in beside him.

Cresting a hill, they could look down at the full scene - a group of bandits and brigands attacking a young woman in Sacaen clothing, who stood bloodied but defiant over someone in a brown cloak who had presumably already fallen to their attackers. Long green hair flying as she dealt out injuries and death to her opponents, the girl was fighting bravely and with no small skill, but was clearly outnumbered by the bigger and stronger axemen. "Swords, Sain!" Kent reproved his friend, seeing the other cavalier reaching for his lance. Sain might be more comfortable with the longer weapon, but he was perfectly competent with the sword, and there were too many raiders to take foolish risks simply because of a personal preference.

Their horses' hooves were hardly audible on the soft, soggy ground, which forced them to keep to a fast trot, but the Sacaen girl must have seen them out of the corner of her eye because suddenly she whipped around to stare at them for half a second. Kent's breath caught in his throat as he got a glimpse of her face. It can't be- Then he hissed sympathetically, echoed by Sain's gasp, as one of the bandits took advantage of her distraction to deal her a vicious wound to the abdomen. Another strike would certainly finish her off. Sain shouted a wordless challenge, turning the ruffians' attention to the cavaliers rather than their wounded prey, and together he and Kent plowed into the group, swords flashing.

Kent placed himself between the girl and her attackers, moving to stymie every attempt they made at reaching her, while Sain held their attention from the other side of the group. It was all over with remarkable speed, the girl having given an impressive account of herself before they arrived. When the last brigand fell dead to the ground, Kent turned towards the young woman, opening his mouth to begin introductions. But she was in no shape to listen; slumped over the corpse in the brown cloak, she seemed to have just now realized that her friend was indeed dead, and simply clutched at her stomach with an expression of mixed pain and grief on her face. She looked up quickly as Kent dismounted and crouched in front of her, but his eyes were on the dark flood staining her clothing and still pumping from her wound.

"Sain, get the bandages," he ordered, placing his hand on the girl's shoulder. "My lady...." Kent trailed off awkwardly, not sure what to say.

"Lyn," the girl gasped, and he looked up and met her eyes. His heart leapt. He knew that face, had seen it every day on the walls of Castle Caelin. The hair framing it might be green, not gold, and the eyes were a darker green than Lady Madelyn's portraits had suggested, but the face itself was the same.

"Lady Lyndis," he said solemnly, dropping to one knee. "Please allow your humble servants to attend to your wounds." She looked lost, confusion joining the pain, and he realized that of course she wouldn't know who they were. Introductions could wait, however. "Do you have any vulneraries, Lady Lyndis?" he asked hopefully.

"No," she replied through gritted teeth. "I gave the last to- to my friend." She blinked fiercely, as if fighting back tears. "Lyndis... my parents called me that... but I haven't heard it since they died. Why do you call me 'Lady?'"

"I have the bandages," Sain reported before Kent could reply, kneeling on her other side. He paled upon seeing the deep gash in her abdomen, but mastered himself gallantly, his expression changing to a reassuring smile as he came into her view. "My lady, please recline upon my lap, and I shall be sure to keep your lovely hair out of the mud. Never fear, beauteous one, we noble knights will ensure that you receive the best possible care." Looking up, Sain met Kent's eyes and mouthed, 'Lady Lyndis?'

Kent nodded, then reached for the roll of bandages. As he did his best to bind up the gaping wound, Sain spoke quietly in soothing tones to Lady Lyndis, inserting meaningless though hopefully truthful claims of her certain survival amid compliments to her courage, strength, and beauty. Even in such serious circumstances, Sain could still flirt - though Kent wasn't going to scold him when his flow of words kept Lady Lyndis from straining herself by trying to speak, and actually made her smile through the pain every once in a while. But Sain's murmuring ceased before Kent tied off the last bandage, and his friend was once again very pale as they looked down at the shallow rise and fall of her ribcage. For that matter, Kent wasn't very sanguine about the Lady's chances himself, especially after this descent into unconsciousness.

"We have to get her to Bulgar immediately," Sain said, voicing what they both knew. "The ground is too wet for one of us to ride for help in time, or to safely carry her pillion. Perhaps if we rigged a sling between Arden and Gwenyth with our lances and our bedrolls-"

"That's probably the best we can do," Kent admitted, rising. "Good idea, Sain." Their mounts, both well-trained and relatively docile outside of battle, were quickly arranged parallel to each other, and Kent held their bridles while Sain lashed their lances to the saddles and their bedding to the lances. It was a rough affair, but safer than sharing a saddle with the unconscious girl, and just as fast. Finished, the green-haired cavalier went to fetch Lady Lyndis.

"Kent!" Sain called, his voice strangled. Feeling his heart sink even as he rushed over, Kent knelt beside the Lady. She no longer seemed to be breathing, and Sain's face was absolutely white as he pressed his fingers against the side of her neck. "I can't feel her pulse. Please, examine her yourself, I might be mistaken." It was a foolish hope - Sain knew how to check a person's vital signs as well as Kent did - but it was the only one they had, and Kent reached out to feel for her pulse as well.

After a moment of fruitless searching, Kent shook his head, unable to speak. He felt as if something was blocking his throat; they'd come so far, they'd even found the Lady Lyndis, and now she was snatched from beneath their very eyes. There had been something striking about her eyes, something that spoke of a spirited, vivid person he would have very much liked to know and serve, and now she was gone before he'd ever gotten the chance. His chest ached with disappointment and sorrow at the realization. We would have taken you back to your grandfather, Lady Lyndis, and he would have been overjoyed to see you. You would have lived in the style to which you were entitled, and Sain and I would have been your loyal servants. Sadly, he realized that as bad as it was for him, this news might very well kill the Marquess. It was not something he looked forward to relating to his beloved lord.

Looking up, Kent finally met Sain's eyes. The stricken look on his friend's face echoed the pain in his own heart. Above them, thunder rumbled quietly in an ominous threat, and a light rain began to fall from the sky.