Fire Emblem Fan Fiction ❯ Fire Emblem-Path of Radiance: Love Sonata ❯ Chapter 5 ( Chapter 5 )

Falchion1984: And now the moment you've all been waiting for: Ike is going to SPILL HIS GUTS!

 

Mist: Cue the eyerolls!

 

Falchion1984: Oh, shut up! Anyhow, this had to be the single most frustrating thing I've yet written. It took me weeks and weeks to get it right, and that was on top of all the delays of school and commuting and studying and what all. Well, here it is and I hope you guys like it. Ranulf, disclaimer if you please.

 

Ranulf: *Under his breath* Who the heck says `if you please' these days? *Ahem* Falchion1984 does not own Fire Emblem, and he doesn't own the song `I've Got You Under My Skin.'

 

***************************************************************** *******

 

(Ike)

 

Ike watched as Elincia's head snapped back in his direction so fast that it made his neck hurt just watching, the mask of melancholy stoicism she'd worn moments ago vanishing in an instant and replaced by a very nearly comical look of shock. Ordinarily, he might've found the contrast between her customary poise and her sudden awkwardness amusing, but he wasn't in a laughing mood. This, he realized, was the true reason that Elincia had seemed so weary and troubled and why she'd been behaving oddly all evening.

 

He was the cause.

 

It surprised him, but he realized that it shouldn't have. He had spent the last two years helping the Greil Mercenaries, aiding them in raids against Ashnard loyalists and escorting Supply Convoys, while working to ensure that they'd be well taken care of after he finally relinquished his command. There was, as he'd told Sephiran, a lot to be done. And, each of those tasks had proven substantial in and of itself. The remnants of Ashanrd's Army, scattered to the winds after the death of their Monarch, remained dangerous and determined to wreak vengeance on victorious Crimea in any way they could. Though they were no match for the Greil Mercenaries in a straight up fight, and battle and hunger thinned their ranks, it also made these scattered bands smaller, faster and ever more elusive often causing a hunt of mere days to turn into a lethal game of Cat and Mouse spanning weeks.

 

Even so, a nostalgic Ike could not help but relish the chance to lead the Greil Mercenaries again for old time's sake.

 

And, he was especially worried about Mist. Though Mist loved Elincia like a sister, and was thrilled at the notion of Ike and Elincia falling in love, Ike knew it would be hard for her to accept that he was leaving her when their father's death was still fresh in both their memories. He wasn't leaving her permanently, he'd make sure of that, but he didn't want to walk out of her life while he could still help her to reconcile herself with the tragedy of their parents. Thus he would detour to Mist's side, sometimes with the pretense of needing healing after a rough day or of doing some taste testing while she was at work in the kitchen, while he watched for any sign of lingering depression or sudden shifts in her mood or behavior. He would, when these games tired him and he elected for a more direct approach, encourage her to talk with him about it to exorcise lingering spirits and, on rare occasion, offer her a shoulder to cry on.

 

She had, naturally, sworn him to secrecy after these occurrences and made some rather fanciful claims about what would happen if he went back on his word.

 

And, his time in Melior was taken up with helping in the Reconstruction. Shoveling out cisterns and erecting houses was hardly something one did for fun, but his conscience would not permit him to do otherwise when faced with Melior residents huddled about the rubble of their former home struggling to stay warm as the chill of night approached.

 

One look at such a gathering caused his heart to melt in his chest and commanded him to do something about it. And, he always did.

 

But, while we paused to aid his family and strangers in need, time kept marching on. The long hunts for Ashnard Loyalists, the weary days of working in the Reconstruction and his delicate, and sometimes not, efforts with Mist dragged on. Before he knew it, two years had gone by without him telling the woman he loved how much she meant to him.

 

So, when he should've been declaring his love for the woman he wished to marry, when he should've been helping her to gather her courage as he had in the past, when he should've been the shoulder for her to cry on, when he should've been helping her, he had instead been helping everybody else. Including himself, he was forced to admit, to set his conscience at ease before he moved on.

 

For the second time, he'd hurt her deeply without even realizing it until it was too late.

 

`Blast,' he inwardly snarled. `I am an idiot.'

 

This realization hit him like a blast of icy air such as even the snowfields of Daein rarely boasted and on its heels was a wave of guilt that hit him like a fist. He felt it, as though it had punched him in the chest and then dug into his flesh to seize his heart in a frigid grip that threatened to choke away his courage.

 

The temptation to walk away before he caused her further pain was whispered into his ear by some harsh inner voice and, in truth, Ike never knew how he resisted. Some reserve of willpower that had laid undiscovered bubbled to life and reminded him that he'd made no shortage of mistakes in his life, many of which he couldn't take back, but that he'd managed to make up for them more often than not. He had remedied his mistakes before, and he could do so again.

 

Though Elincia would likely deny it, he owed her that much.

 

“I should've explained this much sooner,” Ike admitted, unable to keep a tinge of shame out of his voice. “I'm so sorry for hurting you.”

 

Elincia seemed to wake herself from her confused trance and shook her head emphatically.

 

“No, no,” she hurriedly interjected. “I'm not angry; I'm just…a little confused. I thought you wanted to leave. I know that you disliked being Crimea's General and you were put there by matters of time and circumstance. You said so yourself.”

 

Ike felt that familiar flush of embarrassment bring an unwelcome warmth to his face at the mention of this and the clenching grip on his heart tightened. He had, unwittingly, chivvied himself into another hole.

 

“I said that,” he admitted, averting his eyes. “But, I lied.”

 

Though Ike could not bring himself to look, he was positive that Elincia regarded him with utter astonishment. And, he feared, a hint of disappointment.

 

“Well,” he continued, “lying to myself at least.”

 

Gradually, hesitantly, he turned his gaze back towards Elincia. Her expression was, to his surprise, not one of disappointment or of puzzlement but of concern and curiosity.

 

“It's true that I didn't want to be a Lord,” Ike began, “but that was the problem. I hated the Nobles, especially the ones in Begnion, how they were so self-centered and treacherous and I wanted so badly to avoid being like them. When the Apostle told me that I'd have to be made a Lord to command the Army, I forgot about everything else for a moment….everything. The War, Crimea, my father, the Black Knight, the Mercenaries, you, everything.”

 

Ike, again, felt disgust at himself curdle in his gut. He kept his face swept clean of emotion as he regarded, once again, the fullness of his error with the grim acceptance and concealed shame that had crested on his face and in his heart when he beheld Elincia's stricken expression after his outburst.

 

“So much was at stake,” he began, his inward frustration seeping into his tone, “and all I could think of was myself, just like the Nobles would have. I still can't believe how selfishly I'd acted, and I didn't even admit it to myself.”

 

Elincia's expression turned to one of understanding and what Ike could've sworn was a hint of empathy.

 

“Ike,” she began, delicately, “it was a mistake. I might've done the same thing in your place, and you did set it to rights. Is…is that the reason that you seemed so agitated afterwards?”

 

Though Elincia didn't say it directly, Ike could sense that she'd been wondering about that for some time. And, that it had not been a pleasant thought for her.

 

`Wow,' Ike mused disgustedly. `I'm messing up left and right.'

 

“Yeah,” Ike replied. “Looking back, I guess that I knew what had happened but I just didn't want to face it. I just...”

 

His words trailed off as he discovered another irony to complement this one.

 

“I just kept it to myself,” he finished.

 

Just as Greil had kept the secret of Lehran's Medallion to himself, Ike had concealed the shame of his actions from everyone else, even those he would trust with his life without a second's hesitation. Greil had kept his secret, until the Black Knight took his life, even from the Greil Mercenaries who'd have aided him with nary a second thought. Ike regarded the Greil Mercenaries as his family, knew that they would understand and forgive him, and yet he'd told none of them.

 

Did Greil keep the truth of his wife's death from their children because it would scare and hurt them, because it would make them fear and perhaps hate him? Or, was it because he could never come to grips with knowing that he had killed his own wife, even if he'd had no hope of preventing himself from doing so?

 

Did Ike conceal the truth of his unthinking act from his friends because he believed it would burden them needlessly or because it might've made them think less of him? Or, could it have been because just facing this secret struck a blow against Ike's perception of himself and threw his flaws into such sharp relief that simply looking verged on unbearable?

 

Perhaps, in both instances, it was a little of each.

 

`I guess,' Ike mused, with detached distaste, `my father and I are more alike than I thought.'

 

Completing the Trinity of Ironies was the realization that, at any other time and for any other reason, Ike would've welcomed any genuine comparison between him and his father. This, however, was a grand exception.

 

“I should know better than that,” Ike admitted, his voice faint and his tone grim. “It was wrong of me.”

 

There, that was the truth of it: it was wrong of him. Just as it had before, it cut into him like his own blade and yet it somehow made him feel a little better. A little stronger perhaps, as if in discovering this fault he had taken the first, big step to ultimately understanding and overcoming it. He also could not help but feel a sliver of relief at knowing that Elincia didn't begrudge him his error. Ike reflected, distantly, that he shouldn't have been surprised by this and that he should've told her this much sooner.

 

He still had a suspicion that doing so might've saved her much pain.

 

“There's nothing to forgive Ike,” Elincia spoke up, her tone gentle and delicate. “As I said, it was a simple mistake. I nearly…”

 

The remainder of Elincia's words died in her throat amidst a sharp intake of breath. Ike noticed, curiosity and concern undoing his stoic mask. Elincia, by contrast, looked as if she'd been caught off balance by her own words.

 

And, Ike had to admit, he was wondering what she'd nearly done.

 

Before he could inquire, she spoke again.

 

“But,” Elincia began nervously, “why aren't you going to return to the Mercenaries? I…I thought you wanted to leave Melior and take command of the Company in your father's stead.”

 

“I did,” Ike replied. “That was the plan at least. Still, along the way, things changed.”

 

It might've been Ike's imagination but Elincia seemed to tense as he'd said those words.

 

“What…changed?” Elincia asked, a strange trepidation in her words.

 

“A lot of things,” Ike answered, wondering at Elincia's reaction. “I learned much, not just about fighting but about the Beorc and the Laguz and about myself. I guess it really started when we met, just before Daein attacked the Fort and it kept on going as time went on. I…I really don't have an eloquent way to say this and I've kept you waiting way too long already.”

 

A faint smolder seemed to kindle in his breastbone. It was faint at first, yet it began to grow stronger and hotter until the shame and remorse he'd felt over his inaction seemed to shrivel in the flame. Now, having recaptured his inner balance, at least for the moment, he gave voice to both the answer to why he was staying and what had changed.

 

“Elincia,” he began, “I love you.”

 

Elincia's eyes pulsed wide and her lower jaw crept earthward. Offhand, Ike could not tell if her expression was one of revulsion or of surprise. He reflected, with inward frustration, that it could easily be the former. Silence fell between the two like a hammer, Ike working vainly to dissect the un-responding mask of astonishment that had overtaken Elincia's face.

 

Ultimately, it was Ike that took the plunge.

 

“I probably have no right to say that, after what I've done,” Ike confessed. “I still remember the scene I made in Begnion, both of them. If Sanaki hadn't needed us to expose the Laguz Slave Trade, she probably would've thrown us out right there.”

 

Once more, the memory stabbed at Ike like the edge of an unseen blade and he felt his heart clench, but he forced himself to keep his gaze fixed upon Elincia. She, in turn, finally composed her face into some semblance of calm attentiveness and took a step closer to him. One of her soft hands rose up and cupped his cheek, an impossible sensation of rightness seeming to ebb from the contact between her delicate skin and his weathered, tanned flesh.

 

Like a mating of the spectrum, the convergence of two complementary hues, they simply fit together. There was no discernable logic behind it, it was neither voiced nor anticipated, it simply was. And, by virtue of being, it was perfect.

 

For an eternal instant, they simply gazed into one another's eyes. Elincia's golden eyes, Ike saw, lacked their usual luminescence. Staring back at him were forlorn orbs of melancholy, dulled by fatigue and glassy with tears that threatened to spill forth at the slightest provocation. The fist of guilt clenching his heart worked to reassert itself but found the protective bond Ike had long formed with Elincia opposing it and thus Ike stood his ground.

 

He brought up his free hand, trailing his fingertips over the smooth ivory flesh of her cheek, stroking it and waiting to catch her tears, willing his sincerity to pass through his flesh and into hers. Her eyes, still glassy with tears, regarded him with that seemingly alien look of melancholy, the sight threatening to give strength to the fist of guilt seeking to clamp down upon his heart. And yet, somewhere in that gaze, was a faint gleam of…what precisely? Anticipation? Eagerness? Or, maybe, that same smolder of hope that yet crested in his being.

 

Another stretching second of silence passed, this time it was Elincia that broke it.

 

“Ike,” Elincia began, her voice quavering, “don't you remember what the Apostle said? She was impressed by your loyalty. She even told me that she envied me for having someone like you at my side.”

 

`Well,' Ike inwardly mused, not cheered by her well intentioned remark, `Sanaki always was a strange one.'

 

Ike's hands, large and calloused but impossibly gentle, cupped Elincia's face and he worked to wipe away the tears which now began to trickle down her cheeks. Her earlier façade of stoic firmness having crumpled, she now looked small, fragile and very young. Slowly, with the same delicacy with which he might've handled a newborn, he brought her into a close, gentle embrace, letting her lean against his larger form and cry into his chest while he gently stroked her face and the silken coils of her hair.

 

Ike felt tears gathering in his eyes as well, his heart clenched harder and he felt his throat contract as guilt threatened to choke away his voice.

 

“I'm so sorry,” he whispered, unable to keep a note of anguish from seeping into his words.

 

The words were few, simple, but he meant them with every fiber of his being. He felt Elincia shift in his grip, tilting her face upward to gaze at him. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, her face was reddened, her still moist eyes were puffy and swollen and her hair, which had come unbound during their embrace, was in dire need of re-combing. Yet, the expression she fixed upon him bore neither malice nor sadness but only the strange repose that comes after one has permitted their emotions to have free reign so that the storm crested in the heart can expend itself and leave behind calm.

 

“Ike,” she began again, her voice hoarse with emotion, “I already told you, there's nothing to forgive. But, if it means that much to you, then I forgive you. Gladly.”

 

Her words, too, were simple and yet they meant so much to him. As if the fist of guilt that had seized upon his heart had suddenly gone slack, he felt repose settle upon him as well.

 

“Did…,” he heard her murmur hesitantly, her voice still fragile and yet hopeful, “did you mean what you said earlier? That you love me?”

 

Ike looked into her eyes, and saw the barest hint of the golden luminescence he had seen there in times past, when Geoffrey and his troops had been saved at Delbray, when they'd kissed after the Black Knight's defeat and when she had taken his hand in the Throne Room of Castle Crimea. Seeing it caused a hint of his rakish smile to tug at the corner of his lips.

 

“Yes, more than anything,” he replied, and meant it.

 

The simple act of, at long last, saying those words caused the flames of determination within his breastbone to intensify, burning so hot and so strong that he felt his chest tighten to hold them in. The flames sprayed embers of passion that sought to use his next words as an avenue of escape from his confining flesh.

 

“I didn't realize it until the signing of the Treaty of Serenes,” Ike continued, the trace of a smile dawning on his features beginning to broaden. “While we were dancing, I thought a lot about the times we had together during the War. When we first met, our talks aboard Nasir's ship, the journey across Daein, Riven Bridge, Delbray, training with you, Fort Pinell, Nados Castle, your Coronation, everything.”

 

A far away expression began creeping across Ike's face at the memory of the waltz. Brief images, memories flickering in and out of focus, drifted across his mind's eye. And, not just of his waltz with Elincia but of Mia ambushing Rhys and his success in disarming her, Leanne waltzing with a displeased looking Naesala to the umbrage of a far more displeased Reyson, Oscar and Kieran engaging in yet another contest of knightly prowess with Tanith and Marcia cheering them on and Gatrie telling, once again, the tale of how he'd confronted Astrid's unwanted betrothed and beaten the living daylights out of him.

 

He even remembered, with a snicker, how Ranulf and Jill had gotten drunk and had gone into an unstoppable succession of criminally atonal, hiccup punctuated songs until Lethe had hurled the punch bowl at them out of simple irritation.

 

“Just as the dance ended,” he continued, “it just hit me. Looking back, I guess I knew it long before then but I simply hadn't understood.”

 

A laugh, somewhere between amused and embarrassed, parted his lips.

 

“When you asked why I kissed you,” he began, “I said that it just felt like the right thing to do. It took me a while to figure out why, but what else is new?”

 

For the first time in what seemed like hours, he heard Elincia laugh. The bell clear notes of mirth were like music to his ears, and he soon found himself joining in. For a moment, an all too brief eternity, the guilt and melancholy and worry that had plagued them seemed to grow hazy beyond recall. If Ike hadn't known better, he would've written it off as some sort of bad dream.

 

However, he did know better. And, for that reason, he silently swore that this was the last time he'd cause her pain.

 

“At first,” Ike went on, “the idea just seemed stupid and, for the longest time, all I could see was how different we are. I mean, I'm a Mercenary and you're a Queen. Aside from my sword, I have little to offer and I was so sure that nobody would accept me here. I was all set to just forget it and go back to the Company.”

 

Here, Ike felt another tinge of realization: if Sephiran hadn't caught up with him, and if the two of them hadn't had their talk after the signing of the Treaty of Serenes, he would have done just that. Why Sephiran had intervened like that, and how he knew about Ike's affections for Elincia in the first place, was an enigma. And yet, despite Sephiran's penchant for having a good laugh at Ike's expense, Ike suddenly became aware of just how great a service the Prime Minister of Begnion had done for him and Ike's umbrage towards Sephiran's ill humor lessened.

 

Slightly.

 

“Near the end of the evening,” Ike continued, “Sephiran came up to me and we began talking. He told me that you and Sanaki were wondering if I'd stay in Melior. I told him no but then he...Well, he said quite a few things. One thing he said, which surprised me, was that he knew that I had fallen in love with you. I still have no idea how he knew, he never told me. But, he also made me realize a few things.”

 

Ike's gaze shifted slightly in the direction of the Festival, which was still in full swing with the guests dancing to a…interesting sounding joint composition between the Beorc and Laguz Minstrels.

 

“You remember earlier, when you said that the people had started believing in peace between the Beorc and the Laguz?” Ike began. “I've begun to believe in it too, and I want to make that dream come true. It might've been the incident at Toha or maybe meeting the Herons, but I soon realized that I just couldn't just let things go as they are anymore.”

 

As the words left Ike's lips, his mind began to trace a path through his memories of the changes. And, summoned by these thoughts, images began to dance in his mind's eye. Was it those amiable chats he'd had with Nasir and Ranulf and the other Laguz of the Army that caused this conviction to be born? Perhaps it was learning of the improbable friendship between his father and Caineghis, and the mournful tone with which the King of Lions spoke of his Beorc friend's passing. Maybe it was the rage that spurred Ike to Ranulf's defense when the crazed mob at Toha began to beat him? It might've been the reconciliation between Sanaki and the Herons. Very likely, it was the wonderment of how Reyson and Leanne's singing had caused Serenes Forest to be reborn, the maelstrom of color and light and music transforming the once lifeless wood into the jewel of the continent.

 

Whether it was one incident that sparked it or if, like his love for Elincia, it simply grew as time went on, Ike did not know. And yet, he could see in each and all the possibility, and the necessity, of a new world.

 

A better world.

 

A world that King Ramon had envisioned and, for many years, had worked to create. Though this great work had been nearly destroyed by the Daein Invasion and Ramon's death, his legacy had become the treasure of those who fought for Crimea's freedom and there were hands aplenty to take up the task he'd begun.

 

“Sephiran believed…,” Ike began, pausing as a nervous chuckle escaped his lips. “Sephiran believed that I could change the world. That I could help you to create a real, lasting peace between the Beorc and the Laguz, that I might even be able to set the Nobles straight. At first, it all seemed so overwhelming but, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I could do it. That I wanted to do it, that I could help to create a better world.”

 

“But…,” Elincia stuttered. “But… you still haven't explained why you aren't going back to the Mercenaries and Mist. They're your family.”

 

Ike did not respond, not with words at least. Instead, he unclipped his sheathed sword from its customary place on his belt and offered it to her.

 

As Elincia studied the inscription, the proverb as he'd dubbed it, Ike summoned the memory of reading it for the first time when Sephiran had presented it to him. He still recalled, with the tiniest hint of embarrassment, how he'd nearly broken into happy tears in front of Sephiran.

 

The Prime Minister of Begnion, assuredly, would never have let him hear the end of it.

 

Still, he recalled the proverb as Elincia read it.

 

Though families may ultimately separate, parents pass away and children grow up and leave home, bonds of love and brotherhood are eternal. Good luck Ike and, wherever you may go and whatever you may do, you will always be welcome with us.

 

Accompanying this inscription were the names `Mist,' `Titania,' `Oscar,' `Boyd,' `Rolf,' `Rhys,' `Gatrie,' `Shinon,' `Mia' and, newly added, `Ilyana,' `Zihark' and `Astrid.'

 

“You're right,” Ike conceded, “they are my family. They loved me enough to let me go.”

 

With shaky hands, Elincia took the sheathed blade from Ike and examined the silvery writing of the proverb as if to ensure that her eyes were not deceiving her.

 

“Mist wanted it this way,” Ike continued, prompting Elincia to meet his gaze once again. “She figured out that I was in love with you long ago, she was thrilled about it. Everyone was.”

 

Again, Ike had to pause as embarrassed red painted his countenance.

 

“When you came to me this morning.” Ike continued, “to ask me to be your escort, I was talking about this with Sephiran. I was terrified that you might've overheard us. Still, I talked it over with the others and I've made sure that they'll be in good hands after I leave. And, I've been talking things over with Mist.”

 

Another image flittered through Ike's mind, this time of his talk with Mist. He saw in his mind's eye her varied, and sometimes testy, denials of any lingering depression and one instance where she'd threatened to turn him into a vegetarian if he didn't stop following her into the kitchen to check up on her. He remembered, as well, how, on rare occasion, her façade would crumble and she'd cry into his chest for what seemed like hours.

 

And, he especially remembered that afterwards, she'd ask if Ike had finally admitted his affections to Elincia. Upon learning that he hadn't, she would go from relieved with a touch of sadness to indignant with a copious amount of anger.

 

`By the Goddess' left boob Ike,' she'd railed at him in a previously unheard-of moment of profanity on her part, `what is taking you so long to tell her you love her?!'

 

Mutual shock at her profanity turned into a shared laugh at her tantrum but Ike had to admit that she was right.

 

“I'd been worried about Mist,” Ike continued, “about how she was doing after learning how Mom died. She does seem much better and she, all of them, let me go.”

 

A stretching second passed as the two of them regarded each other, silence again falling between them. For a long, long moment, Ike simply stared at Elincia. This time, however, he was not trying to penetrate a mask of forced stoicism or to discern the meaning of some oddity in her words and manner. He was not trying to interpret the workings of her mind or gauging the reaction that his words were eliciting.

 

He was just looking.

 

Her face was still moist from the tears that had spilled forth from her eyes earlier and her eyes were red and puffy. Her unbound hair, though disheveled, still retained its natural radiance. Her eyes, however, commanded his attention. The hint of their customary luminescence was still there, perhaps a bit more so than it had been moments before, but he could also perceive a hint of trepidation in those golden orbs which came out in her words.

 

“Ike,” Elincia began, sounding nervous and yet faintly hopeful, “don't do this to us. Not…not if you're going to change your mind.”

 

“I won't,” Ike replied, his voice firm and resolute. “And, I hope to prove it.”

 

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly to soothe his wildly thumping heart, Ike knelt on one knee and removed the ring box from his pocket. He noted, with a split second of approval, that it and its precious contents had not been damaged by the incident with the falling pail of mortar that morning. He lifted the lid, offering the ring within to Elincia and bent every fiber of his courage towards the words that he now spoke.

 

“Elincia,” he began, trying to keep his tone calm, “will you marry me?”

 

(Elincia)

 

Within Elincia's mind, all was chaos.

 

Did she just hear what she thought she had? Could Ike have said what she thought he did?

 

For nearly two years, Elincia had looked upon the puzzle of Ike's lingering in Melior much the same way one might stare vainly through a bank of fog to see what lay within and, in all this time, that fog had been too deep to penetrate. Even though she'd spent so long guessing what could be keeping him here long after his contract and obligation to her had ended, she always assumed that he would ultimately walk out of her life.

 

And yet, Ike had once again done the, very, last thing she'd expected.

 

Some part of her mind, a fragment that yet retained reason as the rest fell into utter confusion, informed her, again, that she should be used to this by now.

 

This evening had begun with Elincia juggling the impossible tasks of having a good time with the man she knew she had to relinquish and allowing the person she most wanted at her side to leave. Puzzlement, dread, contentment and concealed affection were borne as both burdens on her mind and weights upon her heart.

 

This impossible matrix of contrary thoughts and sentiments, however, was hit by tremors of confusion when Ike declared that he was, in fact, staying. Those words had been a storm front that caused the fog of confusion and frost of dread in her mind to transform into a blizzard that seemed to freeze over her eyes and trap her within her own skull. Thoughts and words whirled through her mind like ice crystals ripped skyward by the winds that now howled between her ears.

 

Numb, confused words blurred from her numb, confused lips.

 

“I cannot…,” Elincia blurted distantly.

 

She was aware neither of speaking nor of Ike's face which now shone with shock and sadness at words unheard by their speaker.

 

Elincia did not see Ike's face, the confused maelstrom of thoughts and words whirled through her skull and overwhelmed her senses.

 

Desperately, she seized upon one of the crystallized words, snatching it out of the air and staring at it with her mind's eye. As if the crystal had metamorphosed into parchment and the words it contained into text, she read it.

 

`I wanted to do that,' she read, recalling these as Ike's words.

 

This time, the past-tense did not escape her perceptions. Ike wasn't going back to the Mercenaries. But, why not? The notion bewildered her, she couldn't make it make sense, and yet she could not help a shiver of hope that pulsed through her being and seemed to slightly calm the gale.

 

With a sudden eagerness grappling with a lingering sense of trepidation, she seized another crystal from the typhoon in her mind and delved into its secrets.

 

`I talked it over with the others and I've made sure that they'll be in good hands after I leave,' she read Ike's words.

 

The memory of these words summoned forth another, as a small break in the storm began to open amidst the maddened whirl of crystal words around it. Framed by the chaos, and yet untouched by it, this window showed Elincia and Ike walking towards the Festival in deep conversation.

 

`They'll do fine,' she heard Ike say.

 

She heard, in this second hearing of those words, mingled pride and nostalgia as he spoke of his long time friends and comrades-in-arms. She heard his admiration for their strength and courage, gratitude for having known them and for their aid in his time of need, affection for those he regarded as family and trusted with his life and, she now sensed, a hint of sadness that he was parting with them.

 

But, that didn't make sense either. The Greil Mercenaries were Ike's whole life, they were his family. Why would he want to leave them? Eagerness changing to urgency, she snatched another crystal and opened her mind to its words.

 

`They loved me enough to let me go,' she recalled Ike saying.

 

Another portal tore itself open amidst the storm and, within, was the image of the jeweled scabbard that Ike had handed her moments ago. Again, wondering if her eyes might be deceiving her, she brought her gaze to the silvery writing on the scabbard.

 

Though families may ultimately separate, parents pass away and children grow up and leave home, bonds of love and brotherhood are eternal. Good luck Ike and, wherever you may go and whatever you may do, you will always be welcome with us.

 

Though Elincia did not know it, her reaction to the words was much like Ike's own. Tears, though these being of affection for the people who'd made the man that had captured her heart, gathered in her eyes as she snatched another crystal from the weakening gale.

 

`Mist wanted it this way,' she recalled Ike saying.

 

Another portal opened amidst the still strong winds of chaos and, within, Elincia saw Mist as she hugged Ike before leaving them to talk privately. This time, however, Mist's whispered `Good luck' was heard as clearly as if it had been shouted. Mist had known, had wanted it even as she herself was recovering from the revelation of the tragic fates of her and Ike's parents. Anxiously, she seized another crystal and studied its words.

 

`She does seem much better and she, all of them, let me go,' she remembered Ike saying.

 

But, this yet failed to answer Elincia's question: if Ike was leaving the Mercenaries, even of his own free will and with their consent, why was he staying with her of all people? Burning curiosity, tinged with that shiver of hope that was now growing in strength, drove her to seize another crystal and delve into the words therein.

 

`Elincia, I love you,' she recalled Ike saying.

 

For a stretching second, all was silence. The typhoon of whirling words and thoughts, which had lessened to a mere gale, could no longer reach her ears. The world beyond the prison of enigma that was Elincia's skull still could not penetrate. Even thought, with but one exception, was impossible.

 

`Ike loves me?' was that exception.

 

The whirling gale of confused words and thoughts that raged in her skull seemed to regain some of its lost strength and seemed poised to, again, become a raging maelstrom. Months upon months of wondering why Ike had lingered in Melior, the question weighing down on her with both the taunting notion that he might not be leaving and the ever present possibility that he'd leave either oblivious to her affections or rejecting them.

 

The notion that he shared them never once occurred to her.

 

The quirky Item merchant Aimee, the female soldiers from the Army who would occasionally flirt with him and gaze at him adoringly when they thought he wasn't looking, all those Crimeans in Melior and elsewhere who were either admiring him from afar or were setting a place for him at the dinner table in hopes of him staying permanently, even Sanaki who'd confessed to Elincia that Ike had been the object of her first, short-lived crush. All those hundreds, maybe thousands of female admirers and Ike had chosen her?

 

Suddenly, the burgeoning maelstrom shifted and a number of crystallized words fell before her. Hurriedly, she snatched up one and read the words within.

 

`You employed me as a mercenary,' she recalled Ike saying two years ago, just before the Liberation of Melior. `I'll give you your money's worth!...No. It means more than that...To my last breath, I will do all that I can to ensure your dream...Elincia.'

 

As she pondered these words, more rifts of calm interrupted the chaos of the storm. In one, she saw the moment Ike said those words. She saw the conviction in his blazing, azure eyes. She heard the waltz of gentility and ferocity in his tone, the former for her and the latter for those who would oppose him making his words real. She felt his hand as it clasped her shoulder in a grip that seemed to allow his strength to pass through leather and steel and flesh to siphon into her comparatively fragile form.

 

Something resembling repose, as close to repose as was likely possible in such storming confusion, came over Elincia as she remembered that moment. She took another crystal, her trepidation become anticipation and the shiver of hope now setting her whole being aquiver.

 

`You've done such an amazing job,' she recalled Ike saying in the Throne Room just after her Coronation. `And, I believe you always will.'

 

Here, another rift in the storm began to fill with an image, this one of the Throne Room. She saw Ike kneel before her, his body battered and weary and yet his face dominated by his rakish smile and the gleam in his azure eyes conveying his faith in her every bit as much as his words did. Another of the fallen crystals was seized and its words were revealed.

 

`Okay,' she recalled Ike saying, `come on. We'll do this together.'

 

Another of the newly revealed rifts in the storm began to fill with an image. She saw herself seated in her Throne as Ike, rising to his feet, offered her his hand. Another crystal was taken up from the pile that had fallen from the storm's winds and she read it.

 

`Elincia,' she remembered Ike saying, `I love you.'

 

As though the eye of the mental storm in which she was now imprisoned had inexplicably become a geyser of euphoria, her whole being went ablaze with wild, explosive joy. But, that joy soured when she realized what this meant. If Ike did mean to stay then it would mean entrapping himself in the very world he hated. Even if Ike was firm in his convictions, such a forfeiture of his freedom, having to live amongst the Nobles he despised and the dread possibility of him turning into them always looming over him, would surely leave him miserable. Or, worse, it could kill his spirit which was the centerpiece of his well known, if self-denied, greatness.

 

“I cannot…,” her numb lips blurted again to the dismayed Ike, concealed from her gaze by the storm in her mind.

 

A hint of trepidation again seeping into her being, she desperately seized upon another crystal and dissected the words therein.

 

`Elincia,' she recalled from Ike's curt lecture of moments ago, `you can't give someone a country or freedom, it has to be earned like anything else worth having.'

 

Yet another of the rifts in the storm revealed an image, this one of Ike lecturing Elincia about the fault in her words when she offered him freedom which wasn't hers to give. While Elincia, both in the image and in reflection, could not have felt more foolish if her childhood tutor had somehow risen from the dead and placed a dunce cap on her head, Ike's face held no condescension. Instead, his features were drawn in a stern mask of…what? Grim resignation of the danger that he was taking upon his shoulders and its implications? Or, determination to guard himself against it? The events of this evening had left Elincia's nerves far too frayed to let the question remain unanswered so she seized another crystallized sentence and studied it with an intensity that surprised even herself.

 

`Sephiran believed…,' she recalled Ike's self conscious admission. `Sephiran believed that I could change the world. That I could help you to create a real, lasting peace between the Beorc and the Laguz, that I might even be able to set the Nobles straight.'

 

As she finished reading the words, Elincia's jaw crept so far earthwards that, had another stray crystal flown in her direction, she likely would've choked on it. Now, with these words in hand, she studied Ike's stern countenance as he lectured her and she realized that the stern mask upon his face was not of resignation for the cage of the Nobility nor determination to preserve himself from its corruption but, instead was a resolution to reinvent the cage into a paradise. To cleanse the cage of corruption just as his blade had cleansed Crimea of Ashnard's oppression. Another crystal was taken from the group that fell before her and its words unraveled before her eager eyes.

 

`At first,' she remembered Ike beginning, `it all seemed so overwhelming but, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I could do it. That I wanted to do it, that I could help to create a better world.'

 

He could do it, Elincia was certain of that before she even finished absorbing the words. Over the terrible months of the War, the days and nights that swung erratically from the boredom of repairing damaged weapons and armor and waiting for supplies to reach the front lines, to anticipation at the sight of the enemy's approach, to the desperation and terror of battle, and the relief and fatigue as hard earned victory neared, Elincia had seen Ike accomplish the impossible many times. Granted, Ike would never admit to it and would insist that it was his friends and allies who deserved the credit, but Elincia believed that Ike could accomplish anything. She took up the final crystal and, holding her breath as she did so, read the words within.

 

`Elincia,' she remembered Ike asking, `will you marry me?'

 

As was often the case, Ike's words were simple and few, and, yet, the simplicity ended right there. What Ike intended to do, the next impossibility he sought to shatter, was an undertaking beyond anything he'd yet attempted. For a long, long moment, Elincia's voice seemed as if to have been frozen within her throat and she could not summon a reply nor, indeed, the wits to form that reply. Of course, she had faith that Ike could accomplish what he sought to do, that he could help her to build a lasting peace between the Beorc and the Laguz, that he could transform the Nobility he despised into something new, something better.

 

And, she had no doubts that he'd be a wonderful husband.

 

He had offered her his heart, but did she dare take it? Would Ike, somewhere down the road, regret the choice he made this day? Would they both regret it? The choice seemed to loom before her as if, within the gale of crystallized words in her skull, a canyon had formed and silently beckoned her to make a leap of faith…or into disaster. She felt, in this moment, a grave and perhaps impossible choice before her: should she set Ike free from a life which might degenerate into misery by refusing him, or should she accept and set them both free from heartbreak and everlasting regret?

 

The clue to solve this conundrum came not, however, from another crystal bearing words, nor of Ike somehow penetrating Elincia's confusion, nor from Elincia breaking the bonds herself. It came, instead, from a voice that drifted through some unseen break in the weakened but yet potent storm that raged within her skull. The voice was not Ike's, that much she could tell immediately, but she could not connect the voice to a name. The voice did, nonetheless, belong to someone she knew quite well.

 

In fact, the person who now spoke to her had had words with her and Ike mere minutes ago. As well as several good laughs at both of their expense.

 

I've got you under my skin

I've got you deep in the heart of me

So deep in my heart, you're really a part of me

I've got you under my skin

I've tried so not to give in

I said to myself this affair

Never will go so well

But why should I try to resist

When darlin' I know so well

I've got you under my skin

I'd sacrifice anything come what might

For the sake of having you near

In spite of the warning voice that comes in the night

And repeats and repeats in my ears

Don't you know you fool

You never can win

Use your mentality, wake up to reality

But each time I do, just the thought of you

Makes me stop before I begin

`cause I got you under my skin

 

As the song concluded, and as it too crystallized in the storm and landed squarely in her hands for her to read again, she realized that the words were true. She had, that very morning, delved into the elicit fantasy of leaving with Ike and joining the Mercenaries and allowing the Crown to pass from her inexperienced hands into another's. And, here was Ike willing to leave the life he had known and cherished since his birth out of love for her and devotion to the dream for which her father and his and so many others gave their lives. And, here, Elincia realized that if she did let Ike go then both of them would regret it forever.

 

Many, a great many, would likely look upon this as utter foolishness or charming but nonsensical romanticism. Still others would say that a union between a Queen and a common Mercenary was impossible. But, then again, they likely said the same thing about an alliance between Beorc and Laguz or of defeating Ashnard.

 

Which, needless to say, wasn't impossible at all.

 

And, in any case, Ike did not believe in `impossible.'

 

And, suddenly, she didn't either.

 

Here, unexpectedly and inexplicably, the dream she'd concealed in the deepest recesses of her being had come true. The storm of confusion in her mind evaporated, leaving behind only moonlight and dizzyingly fresh air. The ice over her eyes thawed and she beheld Ike. His face was still awash with shock from words that she did not recall saying but that changed quickly enough.

 

“I cannot refuse,” came forth from Elincia's no longer numb and confused lips. “Yes, Ike. Yes! A hundred times, yes!”

 

The transformation that overtook Ike's face was swift. His jaw, still hanging open dumbly from shock suddenly ground together and broadened into a grin that looked as though it threatened to split open his face. In a single motion, he vaulted from his crouch and seized Elincia by the waist. Elincia let out a gasp and a shuddering giggle as she was suddenly lifted off her feet and spun about by a wildly grinning Ike. Her unbound hair whirled about her in an emerald cyclone, distantly reminding her of the icy, mental storm of moments ago and occasionally eliciting a chuckle from Ike as an errant tendril tickled his face.

 

Eventually, Ike set her down, though the world continued to whirl around her and she wobbled in place.

 

Ike, looking equally dizzy but no less joyful, removed the ring he'd offered her earlier from its box and she eagerly offered him her hand. As the engagement ring made its journey across her ring finger, she studied it in wonderment. The ring was beautiful. A silver band, ornamented with tiny jewels styled after ivy leaves and spreading outward to embrace a setting dominated by a cluster of topazes cut to evoke the image of the sun orbited by a ring of tiny, spherical sapphires.

 

“You remember what Bastian said,” Ike spoke up, shaking her from her reverie, “just after we broke the siege of Delbray? `We are planets of your fair blazing sun.' The idea seemed appropriate for the ring.”

 

Elincia hardly needed a mirror to know that she was blushing as brightly as the sun he'd just likened her to, her whole face blazed with a warmth that seemed to overpower the chill of the night and it only grew stronger as Ike's arms circled about her waist again. Rather than send her into another whirl, he brought her into a delicate embrace. Elincia could feel Ike's hard, sculpted muscles against her smaller form, as rough as she'd expect from Ike, and yet she could feel the almost reverent gentility with which he held her. For a long moment, she simply reveled in his warmth, Ike's wildly beating heart resonating against her head and sending a fresh wave of repose through her body.

 

Eventually, Elincia pushed back slightly and smiled up at Ike.

 

“So,” she began, letting coy mischief seep into her tone, “what shall be the terms of our new contract?”

 

A split second of astonishment flashed across Ike's face at her unexpected joke but was quickly dispelled by a chuckle and a transparent mockery of contemplation.

 

“Let's see,” he began, the mischief in his tone matching hers. “The Party of the First Part, that's me, shall ensure the happiness of the Party of the Second Part, that's you. He'll be expected to not deny her anything, to dry her tears when she's sad and to beat anyone who insults her or challenges her honor to a pulp.”

 

Elincia went into a long laugh, the force of the hilarity tossing her head backwards as she tried to envision who'd be idiotic enough to compel Ike to act upon that third term. And, she could not resist the illicit hope that La Roche was that idiotic.

 

“Very well,” she replied, her words still punctuated by giggles. “Let me think…ah, I have it! The Party of the Second Part shall be expected to kiss the Party of the First Party daily. She will also hear any and all thoughts and recommendations he has for revitalizing this country without reproach and, finally, she will bear and love his children should he desire them.”

 

A flicker of surprise wove across Ike's face before his rakish smile reappeared.

 

“Well then,” he replied, “I better add figuring out how to be a good father to my end of the contract.”

 

“And,” Elincia retorted, her grin threatening to take in her ears, “I believe I'll add that the Party of the Second Part will continue to train with her husband. And that, when I say we're going riding, that's the end of the debate.”

 

“Fair enough,” Ike replied, “and, when I believe that the Party of the Second Part is overworked, I will take her to Moonstone Lake so she can rest.”

 

The image of being on a lake shore with Ike, alone with Ike, sent Elincia's heart beating at wild speeds and she felt her cheeks color yet again. The only answer she could offer was a fervent nod.

 

“Sounds good,” Ike commented with an approving nod.

 

“Agreed,” Elincia answered. “Expiration?”

 

Ike leaned in close to Elincia, so close that she could breathe in his rich, earthy scent and she could practically feel her cheeks turn even redder at his proximity.

 

“How about `till death do we part?'” he whispered conspiratorially, his rakish grin broadening from ear to ear.

 

Elincia felt a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth as well and tears trickling from her eyes, though these being of uncontrollable joy.

 

“You've got a deal, I believe the phrase is,” she informed him, the twinkle of mischief in her eye returning. “Shall we draw up papers or is a handshake good enough?”

 

The gleam of mischief in Elincia's eyes found a twin in Ike's, coupled with a look of barely restrained longing as the distance between their faces shrank further.

 

“I have a better idea,” he whispered, and she felt his hands on her waist again.

 

In a single motion, Ike had lifted her skyward again and drew her against his torso, his lips angling for hers.

 

When Elincia had spoken to Lucia, about when Ike had kissed her after his confrontation with the Black Knight, she'd described it as `incredible.' This kiss though surpassed the first two the way a knightly duel surpasses a schoolyard scuffle.

 

The meeting of their lips seemed to banish the chilly air of the night and ushered in balmy warmth that washed over her being, warm and soothing and warding off the remaining chill of her long worries. His tongue lanced across the threshold of their melded lips, grabbling with hers and gently probing all about the inside of her mouth. She reciprocated, their tongues coiling about each other in a madcap, serpentine battle. She was still held aloft, his arms hugging her against his broad torso with a gentility that she alone was aware of him possessing, his fingertips digging into her lithe back and seeming to turn her taut muscles into putty as warmth migrated through leather gloves and woven silk to siphon into her body. Her own hands had roamed all about his form, her fingers slipping beneath the rough fabric of his shirt to feel the hard muscle of his shoulders and neck. Her lithe fingers swept over his neck, moving to the top of his spine, and her nails dug into the hard flesh covering the ivory notches. The penetration was hardly enough to draw blood but it did quicken Ike's breathing, the warm currents invading her throat suddenly becoming punctuated with ragged gasps until he eventually pulled away.

 

“I…,” Elincia blurted, alarmed. “I didn't hurt you, did I?”

 

Ragged gasps continued to escape Ike's lips, his eyes were wide and beads of perspiration trickled down his brow. Eventually, he regained his composure and regarded Elincia, who still regarded him with grave concern and a hint of alarm.

 

Ike, by contrast, grinned that rakish smile she'd come to adore.

 

“That thing with your nails,” he began, his grin broadening. “Do it again.”

 

Smiling, relief and happiness washing anew over her, she did.

 

***************************************************************** *******

 

Falchion1984: Well, I've said my two dozen prayers regarding the reviews so here's hoping. Well, moving on, I hope you guys liked what I came up with for Ike and Elincia's little chat. Much of that I had to write via stream of consciousness, essentially just getting it down on paper while charged with adrenaline and waiting until it was all there before editing. I also thought that little bit about the new `contract' would be funny. I must, however, give credit where it is due. The idea of a humorous marriage contract was first penned, or typed I guess I should say, by Lyxie, an author of Zelda fanfics of great skill. In her Zelda fic, `the Change,' Link and Zelda negotiated a similar contract, though one with different terms and they called it Terms of Surrender. Naturally, Link and Zelda disagreed about which of them was doing the surrendering. So, having given Lxyie her due, I recommend her Zelda fics. On a side note, the idea of Ranulf singing came from SweetMisery430's recently deleted *faint sobbing noises* story `The Miss Tellius Beauty Pageant.' Sparing details, Lethe, after losing the singing portion, claims that since Ranulf is a professionally trained tenor, his expectations of the contestants are too high. And, the idea stuck.

 

Ranulf: *Sings 'Funiculi, funiculi'*

 

Falchion1984 *Grimacing* If you are daring enough to want to put a sound to this image, then google MP3 Stream Funiculi, funiculi and then picture Ranulf singing that song.

 

*After the reader has done so*

 

Falchion1984: Scary, isn't it? Well, please review and catch you later.