|Every Color of the Rainbow
Author: Kitten Kisses PM
FE7. For the Fire Emblem 100 Challenge. 55: "Property". It just wasn't fair! He had been her escort first. He'd been paid handsomely for his work. So why was he in love with Priscilla?Rated: Fiction T - English - Friendship/Romance - Serra & Priscilla - Chapters: 55 - Words: 78,670 - Reviews: 288 - Favs: 45 - Follows: 23 - Updated: 01-05-11 - Published: 03-16-08 - Status: Complete - id: 4135438
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Quick Author Note: since this is for the FE100 challenge community on LiveJournal, I am posting all 'fics I write for the challenge here. None of them are inter-connected, so you can pick and choose what you read. If you put this on Alert, I will be updating the summary with the pairing, and then updating with the actual chapter, so when you get the email, it should tell you who the updated chapter is about. Now, read on!
The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!
Theme #79: Death Blow
Starring: Kent and Lyndis
Warnings: Rated T for romance and violence.
That night, sleep had not come to him as it usually did, and he had gone to the stables to think.
Her horse was saddled, packed with enough supplies to last at least a month, and as the light from his lantern poured over her, he noticed that she looked both startled and guilty. His heart fell in his chest when she dropped the reins and pressed her hand against him, muttering a soft-spoken apology before wrapping both arms around him in a tender embrace.
She was sorry- so sorry- but she could not take it any longer; it was her time to leave. It hurt him more than anything to know that she spoke the truth.
The lantern found its way to a hook on a stall door as his arms wound around her back. When they pulled apart, she smiled faintly at him and ran her fingertips down his jaw line, her touch gentle. Suddenly he was whispering her name against her lips as his fingers tangled themselves in her hair. Slowly, he pushed her forward until her back was resting against the wall of the stable and after breaking away for air, he pressed his lips to her neck, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses. He sighed against her skin as she buried her hands in his auburn hair, her fingernails lightly grazing the nape of his neck.
With one hand against the wall behind them and the other resting against her lower back, he drank her in. The way she smelled, the taste of her lips- every curve and detail was a part of who she was, and he found himself wanting to know more.
The sound of his name in his ears- Oh, Kent…- brought him back, and burning with shame and self-loathing for his actions, he apologized profusely.
She smiled and thanked him for his sincerity; her voice was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard.
The utter loneliness she felt burned at him from the depths of her eyes, and his heart constricted painfully for her; he did not quite understand her sorrow, but he wanted to erase it. Pulling her close to him, he held her for a moment, but the moment turned into minutes, and she let her cheek rest against his chest as her hands wrapped around his back.
Eternity, he decided in those few minutes, could never be long enough if it was spent in her arms.
She asked if he would accompany her, and he wanted nothing more than to do just that, but he knew that he couldn't- not right away.
Another kiss, deeper than the others; she was the one who took the initiative, pulling him towards her with the hand that had found its way to the back of his neck. They would meet in Sacae, it was decided, as soon as he was able. The instant his duties to Caelin were complete, he would ride through the long, dry grass and feel the wind rush through his hair. With his assistance, she mounted her horse, and with one final look-Do you promise?- and one last awkward kiss- On my honor.- she pressed the heels of her boots into her steed's side, and they rode out of the stable doors without a backward glance.
Two months passed slowly. The people were angry- She is a traitor to her country!- and they were displeased when he announced his abdication. He had not given his reasons for leaving, but it wasn't as if they had not known. He was the Steward of Caelin, but to them, he was no better than she was- Leaving Caelin under Ostian control! He just wants to run off to be with that tramp!- and he didn't know what hurt him more- their hate, or their disrespect.
Departure. It was finally over. Time was flowing for him again, and the sun peeked over the horizon to greet the world on the morning he left to be with her. It was the beginning of the rest of his life. Beneath him, the only sound was that of his horse's hooves slapping against the sod; the reverberation was soothing in the moist, foggy morning air.
Shouting. It took a moment for him to realize that it was he who was responsible. His horse rose underneath him as he fumbled with the shaft of the arrow sticking out of his neck.
Falling. He hit the ground, and he heard a peculiar sound as he landed, but all he could see was the sky, and all he could hear was the frightened whinny of his horse as she ran as far away as she could get.
Breath. He took in painful, harsh gasps of air, but his lungs could not hold them. His life flashed before his eyes, one memory scrolling across his vision before a new one took its place.
Loneliness. He thinks that perhaps he can understand her, now.
Shock. His breathing grows calm as the blood pools around him and the grass drinks its fill. The hand that had grasped at the arrow is bent behind him at an odd angle, and his neck dips back grotesquely. Her name is on his lips, but he cannot speak. He realizes he is dying, but he feels nothing but a sense of incompleteness.
Sorrow. She is waiting for him, but he will not come.
Silence. His horse returns to the stables without him. The sun continues to rise and the light fog dissipates as nature awakens and the birds sing good morning to the earth.
The switch of tenses was done on purpose. It was supposed to give you the impression that the scene(s) before it were a part of his flashback. I acquired this idea on the drive to work the other day. It begged to be written, literally, all day. I wrote out a quick choppy version at lunch, but waited until I was at home to finish and enhance it.
I hope you enjoyed it, even if it was weird/depressing/made you cry. By the way, if it wasn't obvious, it doesn't matter who shot him- it could have been anyone, considering they think he is a traitor. (And that entire thing is all a matter of opinion... I would think that if Lyndis just ran off like that, the nation she ruled would not think kindly of her afterward.)
Remember, every theme will be different. (And not all of them will be Kent/Lyndis!)
Thank you for reading! Constructive criticism and feedback are welcome, as always! Please let me know what you thought.
"Honesty Is the Best Policy"
Theme #40: Friendship