Title: S.O.S.

Author: melfice

Pairing: LegaultxHeath, HeathxLegault

Fandom: Fire Emblem: Rekka no Ken

Rating: M

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Author’s Note: This takes place before the final battle. I’ve taken a few liberties, I’m sure, but just roll with it. Also, grammar and I do not get along in the slightest.

This story is a three part deal and the rating encompasses all three parts.

-Part 1/3: The Calm -

'Calm me and let me taste the salt you breathed while you were underneath.'

The ship rocks gently along seemingly black waters, a soft breeze tugging at the sails. Not even a glimmer of a star shines in the night sky above; only a littering of clouds follow the vessel. A drowned echo of voices and laughter drifts out from the insides of the ship, the low conversation of the few deckhands still on duty ever present, but otherwise the night is quiet and calm.

Armor and weapons discarded below deck, Heath sits on one of the ship’s open edges, boot clad feet dangling off the side. The water is some distance away from his legs, but the depths below his feet are dark and curious; he feels almost paranoid to have his legs dangling there, unable to see what lies below, but he doesn’t move them.

Gloved hands rest behind him, propping himself up, his eyes gazing questioningly out at the endless black sea that stretches before them. It baffles him how they know where they are, where they are going; to him it seems as though they are lost in a never ending cycle of water and sky. There are no stars above, only clouds.

He glances briefly up at the wooden railing that begins to his left. Legault lays precariously upon the surface, one leg dangling lazily down the side. One of his gloved hands rests on his stomach, the other is situated behind his head. Somehow he lays there, without a sound, without any movement, never teetering on the thin rail.

“What I wouldn‘t give to have solid ground beneath my feet,” Heath mumbles. “Or even wings.”

One lavender eye opens lazily, but he can only see the green tips of Heath’s hair from where he lays. The eye closes again, the effort almost too much to bother with. “I‘d rather have the water.”

Heath leans over and rests his elbows on his knees.

There is a slight part in the clouds, small enough for a sliver of moonlight to flicker down. Instead of illuminating any answers about the sea, the brief light dances more illusions and questions across the surface of the water. Heath watches in fascination at the shadows and glimmers that swim along the tops of the water; it’s only a trick of the light.

Even as much as he tires of being on open waters, it is still his first time out at sea for such a period of time. The brief stints he has had at sea before had never given him the extra time to ponder.

It makes him uncomfortable.

“Why are you still here?” he asks.

“Something about a war or some nonsense, I believe.”

Heath glances over at the railing again, at the smirk spreading across Legault’s face. His voice flattens. “I mean out here.”

“Ah,” in one swift motion, Legault sits upright and swings himself around. Both his legs dangle off the side of the railing, his back to the sea. “Perhaps I’m just enjoying your delightful company.”

“Spare me.”

The smirk doesn’t dissipate and it’s too dark to see the flicker in his eyes. “I suppose I could be down below drinking with the others, but I imagine we‘ll be stuck down there for some time after this storm hits.”

Heath’s shoulders tense. “It looks like it’s going around us.”

Legault licks his lips. “Does it now?”

“The wind is blowing it away from us… isn’t it?”

“If that makes you feel better, sure.”

“Don‘t patronize me,” he brushes a hand through damp locks and sighs loudly. “I just… The last time I was on a ship it stormed badly….”

It has been obvious all evening. The clouds are dark, but are occasionally illuminated by a flicker of lightning, and the slow, distant of rumbling echoes each strike. Yet still he has been holding out hope that perhaps it will pass without event.

“I can’t swim,” he finishes.

“I haven’t met many knights that can.”

“I’m not noble enough to be a knight,” a casual statement, one he mutters more than anything, but the reply from Legault that follows is a light, honest laugh.

“Oh, I beg to differ. You are obnoxiously noble.”

The sliver of moonlight is long gone by now, the tear in the continuous painting of clouds becoming mended by the breeze. Illumination still shines from the lanterns hanging around the ship, but many have already begun to burn out.

As the hour grows later, the sounds from below deck slowly soften.

“If you’re scared, I could teach you.”

Heath visibly bristles, voice indignant. “Scared? I’m not scared.”

“Do you want to learn?”

He stares, incredulous, and perhaps still a little tense. “Right now?”

Legault chuckles and finally, after some time of keeping his distance, moves over and takes a seat next to the knight. His own legs dangle off the side of the ship beside Heath’s.

“Well no, not at this exact moment. Sometime later… perhaps even after this war - or whatever we’re calling it - is all said and done. You do know the best way to learn, don’t you?”

A very wary look settles onto Heath’s face. “I can only imagine.”

“You just jump right in,” is Legault’s oddly cheerful reply. His right hand snaps up and presses against Heath’s clothed back; a sudden, firm pressure that is barely present before Heath turns sharply and latches his fingers onto the front of Legault’s shirt in one panicked motion.

“If you push me off of here I will kill you!”

Another strangely sincere laugh from Legault, that causes Heath’s eyes to relax from their sudden angered state. He watches, curious, as the closest thing to an honest smile that he’s seen from the thief forms on his lips.

He glances out of the corner of his eye down at the water again, at the waves lapping at the ship, at the two pairs of legs dangling above it. “I might take you up on that offer. Later.”

The moonlight is completely concealed again, the lanterns all but burnt out; the ship falls slowly into the dark. Two perceptive eyes watch Heath effortlessly in the black night, the ever present, calm smirk tugging at the edge of pale lips. He sees them faintly, like the last embers of a dying candle.

For another brief moment, both men lock eyes and wait briefly in a tense silence.

Slowly his fingers retract from Legault’s shirt and he sits straight again, his muscles relaxing once again. An ungloved hand runs callused fingers through green and white bangs. “Maybe I am a little scared.”

“Just a little.”

For the most part, Legault’s bright mood doesn‘t waver. He stares out at the black ocean with a calm smile, eyes half-lidded.

“It’s a crutch,” Heath says after a moment. “Weaknesses can be exploited and there is always a chance it would affect more than just myself.”

“Oh, I don’t know. It wouldn’t affect me much if you took me down with you; I can swim just fine.”

In spite of himself, Heath smirks.