Secret Emeralds

by the Legendary Armor

A/N: Dibs on the first Oscar x Kieran fic! I’ve always thought this was a sweet pairing, and so now I hope I’m doing it justice by writing this. This story takes place about six months after the end of Path of Radiance.

add-in Nov. 2007: This story has undergone minor changes so that it's not so AU with Radiant Dawn. I will continue it on its path, eventually writing it through FE10 events, at which point something glorious will happen at the ending I've planned out.

Please enjoy; reviews are welcome!

Chapter One: Departure and Arrival

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How could this be possible? How could he ever follow such orders? Had he done something wrong? Had he offended someone important without realizing it? Had he—

“Kieran, please stop gaping at me like that,” Geoffrey sighed, his voice echoing in the grand room. “This is mandatory, all right? Yes. You have to go on vacation. Your service to the throne has been constant, and I’m afraid it’s time for a little rest.”

The axe knight looked stricken. “B-but… Crimean Royal Knight Second in Command Captain Kieran needs no rest!”

The blue-haired paladin, commander of all Crimea’s knights, sighed for the second time that day. “Kieran, you served all throughout the trying year-long war for the kingdom, you served constantly before then, and you’ve been serving during the rebuilding since. Your… enthusiasm pleases me to no end, but you really do need a rest. Thus the three-month long vacation.”

“T-three months… What would I do for three months of not serving as a knight?!”

Geoffrey shrugged. “Might I suggest a visit to the headquarters of the Greil Mercenaries? It’s in the forests skirting the Crimea-Gallia border; it would take you only a week to reach the place. I know you have friends among the mercenaries, after all. Ike's taken temporary leave of the court with the rest of them to do more jobs... it's the perfect opportunity.” There was something commanding in his voice that suggested it was Kieran’s only option. But why on earth would Geoffrey insist he visit them?!

After a moment of brooding, Kieran made a hasty bow after proclaiming he would ‘make the Crimean throne proud in face of the mercenaries once more’ and excused himself from his superior’s presence so that he could go pack. As the brunette exited the royal hall, Elincia strolled in, immediately running to jump, very much not the queen, into Geoffrey’s arms. Smiling up at the paladin, she asked, “So? How did it go?”

The aqua-haired man smiled back. “He wasn’t happy at first, of course. But he has decided to go … Ike will be very pleased, I’m sure.”

Elincia giggled. “Oh, this is so much fun! I’ve never done anything like this before.”

Kieran’s face was plastered in an infinite frown as he packed his clothes carefully into a case designed to be slung over his horse. Slinging a tomahawk over his back, beside another axe, he picked up a silver sword and belted it to his hip. Then, leaning carefully down, he plucked an iron case from under his bed and opened it up.

Inside was a beautiful silver axe, runes gleaming wickedly as he picked it up. It was designed with one of the keenest edges ever known, and was as lightweight as one of those old tomes that Rhys always carried around. He remembered the day this axe was made… Just outside the Crimean border, near the end of the war, in the forge of the merchant caravan tagging along with the army. Oscar had been there.

Actually, Oscar paid for almost half the axe since Kieran had lost his money. It was strange… The axe had been the green-haired knight’s idea. Strange, how generous he was. How patient. How calm.

“Kieran, why don’t you go ask the forger for the lightest, sharpest silver axe he can make? It’d go great with you and I in battle, riding along with my equally-crafted lance.”

The brunette looked back at his ‘archrival’, frowning. “Oscar, do you jest? Do you make vile jokes for your own amusement at my expense?! Surely you must know I’ve lost most of my pay from last week…!”

The other man shrugged. “I’ll cover what you can’t afford. Come on, let’s go.”

Why was he always like that? No matter what Kieran said, no matter what challenge he ever did issue, Oscar’s reply was always calm and composed. As if it didn’t even matter…

“That really is quite the axe. Do you like it as much as I like my lance, maybe?”

Kieran nodded absently, feeling the lightweight weapon with a sense of awe he was trying hard to squish in Oscar’s presence. “Yes… however, my axe would best your lance any day!”

“Perhaps… But it’s Daein we’re fighting, not each other.” The green-haired paladin smiled a little as Kieran strapped the axe to his back, and the brunette paused.

“True, but I still challenge you to—”

Yet Oscar shook his head. “I already acknowledged your skill, Kieran. Actually, I did so a long time ago. You’ve got nothing to prove to me.”

Kieran fell silent, staring intently at the man he’d deemed his one true rival over five years ago, and found no coherent thought… only a vague sense of sadness and disappointment. After an uncomfortable moment of his staring, Oscar smiled again, uneasily. “Come on, Kieran. We’ve got to get some rest for the march tomorrow.”

Following the green-armored knight out of the tent, the Royal Guard whispered, “…Thank you.”

Oscar just kept walking. Kieran was certain he hadn’t heard his thanks, but he could not find the courage to say it again.

The captain of the fifth platoon slung the axe over his shoulder and stalked out of his room, already more tense than usual at the very thought of seeing Oscar’s squinty face once more. Damn that squint! He’d claimed so often that Kieran’s challenges meant nothing to him, but the brunette could not accept that. No. He couldn’t have proven himself to him. That couldn’t be all there was.

Could there?

If he’d proven himself, what did he have to show for it? Oscar’s friendship? Was he Oscar’s friend? He hoped so…

But that thought bothered him. The thought of why he’d ever called Oscar his rival bothered him. His obsession with becoming stronger than the green-haired lance knight simply to prove his worth to the man… bothered him more than he ever cared to think about.

There had to be more to it all than that.

He kept thinking about it as he made his way to the stables. Seeing his horse, he smiled just a little and patted his stocky, well-built brown mare affectionately, adjusting the packs on her so she would not be uncomfortable as they rode. Taking one last look at the map Geoffrey had given him, he mounted his trusted steed and rode out of Crimea Castle.

And as he rode, it was not the whole of the Greil Mercenaries that was on his mind… it was one green-haired, squinty paladin, the same one that always haunted his dreams.

The young commander looked up from his stew to see Oscar walking into the dining hall. The lance wielder had his usual look on his face, which as of late was one of not only calm, but boredom and—could it be?—loneliness. Ike studied him carefully as he plopped down in a chair with a piece of bread.

“Hey, Ike,” he said half-heartedly. “How is everything today?”

“Fine, as usual.” He chewed on a bit of potato in the stew as he studied the paladin. “But what about you?” The paladin opened his mouth to reply, but Ike cut him off. “Oscar, you’ve been acting differently ever since Crimea’s rebuilding began. As if something is bothering you…”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s not important.”

“It’s Kieran, isn’t it?”

The paladin’s words were lost as he stared at Ike with a look of faint dismay. “Uh, Kieran…? Why would it be…”

The commander of the mercenaries grinned suddenly, and laughed. “I can tell. Personal experience, I suppose.” Oscar stared at him as if he didn’t believe what he thought he meant. “I suppose simply being with Soren has taught me a lot of those things. What it looks like, and such.”

Oscar said nothing, just sighed. He chewed on his bread thoughtfully, then said, “…I guess you haven’t told anyone, at least.”

“Not really.”

He looked back up to those mischievous eyes, suddenly wary. “Not… really?”

Ike shrugged. “Geoffrey and Elincia know. They’re sympathetic.”

The lance knight sighed. “Sympathetic?”

“Yeah.” Ike smiled more widely, and that sparkle in his eyes grew. “So sympathetic, in fact, that Kieran happens to be headed this way, to stay here at the headquarters. For three months, at the very least.”

Oscar’s squint got worse. “I’m sorry, Ike. Did you say Kieran… is coming here? For three months?”

“Yup.” He finished the last of his stew, and got up to leave. “And he stays in your room when he gets here.”

It still all seemed like a dream to him, as if he could wake at any moment and realize this was some bizarre imagining from the longing in his heart. His face was a portrait of conflicting emotions. “You’re serious, Ike? He’s actually coming here?”

“Yeah.” The commander smiled slightly. “You’ve got about a week to ready yourself for it…” He left then, shutting the door quietly behind him and leaving the lance knight all alone with his thoughts next to the window, the sunlight making his squint more serious than usual.

Kieran… Something about the man had always stirred Oscar, but he’d never really admitted it, to himself or anyone else. To have Ike throw it out in the open like that, so casually slapping him in the face with it… was shocking, to say the least. And what was it about the axe knight that drew Oscar to him? His energy? His optimism? His insane confidence… his ridiculous challenges?

And why had he always challenged him? What could have possibly made Oscar stand out among the Crimea militia to one of the Royal Guard? Surely it wasn’t just that one horse race… He’d turned the possibilities over in his mind many times, but the one he most hoped for was the one he never dared think about too much. It scared him a little…

He laughed at himself, shielding his eyes from the sun. For a twenty-four year old to be acting like a child with a crush… It was ridiculous, he thought. But he found he really couldn’t help himself.

“You really are going to great lengths to help him,” Soren commented absently as Ike sat on his bed.

“Of course I am. He’s been my friend for years, and he’s one of my most trusted here at the company. I want him to be happy.” The commander frowned somewhat. “I’ve been seeing him grow distant for half a year now, and it seems so obvious. During the beginning of the war, he was worried all the time, but still the same Oscar. But once we found Kieran, locked away in that cell… Something about him changed. Like he became more… vibrant.”

Soren smiled as he sat next to Ike. “I can’t say I blame you too much. You know I’ve never really gotten along with the rest of the company, but Oscar happens to be one of the few I’ve never felt like strangling.”

Ike laughed, and pulled the mage closer. “You never cease to amuse me.”

For the next several days, Oscar’s sleep was a restless one, always full of dreams about the loud axe knight that he rode beside during the war. Kieran’s was full of dreams about that squinty coward of a paladin that always had bested him, even when he claimed there was no competition between them.

And Kieran’s road was a rather cold one as well; winter hadn’t quite ended yet, and as he walked through the forests, not willing to risk his horse to the underbrush, he shuddered in the cold. Some start to his vacation. The snow crunched under his boots, flurries sticking to his armor like little mocking monsters. It was cold. And he was not the least bit happy to be camping alone in the recesses of this forest. It was possibly dangerous (though logic said none with any intelligence would come here with malevolent intentions, lest they risk the wrath of the Gallians) and it was, quite honestly, a little lonely.

Oh well. At least he still had his horse… and his sleep, troubled as it was. For days he traveled grudgingly through the border forest, following the path on his map diligently. On the sixth day of his travel, his hopes were answered as he first caught a glimpse of stone walls rising just beyond more trees. And as he broke through the jungle of nature into an enormous clearing, he came upon the headquarters of the Greil Mercenaries, a simple stone structure no different from the way it was before; however, it was a new and unfamiliar sight to the Crimean knight's eyes.

As he slowly led his horse up to the northern gates, the sun sinking below the horizon as dusk settled on the land, he saw one lone figure lounging at the door in a chair, eating an apple and reading a book.

Oscar looked up as Kieran walked towards him, an unreadable expression on the axe knight’s face and a slight, somewhat shy smile on his own.

“Hi, Kieran. Nice to see you again.”

To be continued in Chapter Two