By: Manna


The Microfic/Drabble Meme
Requested by: Qieru (Livejournal, FFN)
Prompt: Surprise affection/kiss
Pairing/Characters: Kent/Lyndis
Fandom: Fire Emblem 7: Rekka no Ken


She was kissing him and he did not know why. Had he done something in particular to deserve it? Had it been something he'd said? …Or was she only doing it because he was there and the dragon was dead and the world was at peace?

For a long moment that twirled around him like a cyclone, his heart and his mind were at war; it was wrong, so wrong, so wrong that surely it must quality for some sort of treachery or treason or—

But it felt good, so good, her lips against his, her hand on the side of his head, her fingers buried in the short hair at the nape of his neck…and his heart won over his mind.

He pressed back gently, pushing away his feelings of hesitation and confusion, and he felt her nails scrape lightly at the back of his neck, making his stomach lurch slightly with feelings and desires he could not quite understand. He didn't know what he was doing, had never done such a thing before in his entire life, and oh, it was only a couple of years ago when he would have recoiled in horror at the mere thought of being anything even remotely resembling intimate with the woman he was sworn to protect.

But as Sain liked to say, everything changed at one point or another—people were certainly no exception—and he could not deny that his heart had changed. It was something he did not want to admit, especially to himself, and he would have been ashamed to confess it, but it was true; he had become rather smitten with his Lady Lyndis.

Her presence, the sound of her voice, her laughter, her eyes that were so gentle and spirited all at once… She filled his heart and soul with such immeasurable joy that he could not control his emotions around her any longer. And now…

Suddenly, she was pulling away, and he found himself in the midst of a sea of emotional turmoil—no, do not go…please—but there was nothing he could do to stop her. He was strong—he could lift her off of the ground and he could fight to protect her—but when it came to her, his strength fled, leaving him feeling weak and vulnerable.

Without her, he thought, he was no one.

He felt almost as if he did not matter anymore.

Their lips separated with a soft smacking sound, and he reached out for her to steady himself, to hold her there. His eyelids half opened—when had he closed them?—and he gently clenched his hand on her shoulder, his breath coming out in short shuddering gasps. All he could think was that he couldn't let her leave—no, not now, not after that—and he struggled to steady himself, to bring himself back to his usual level-headed way of thinking, of acting.

But her breathing was slightly ragged as she took in mouthfuls of much-needed air, and the smile on her face did not waver as he watched her, feeling…feeling…something. He couldn't describe it, really, though he was certain Sain would have an entire list of words that he could use. There was something so striking, so…amazing about the way she looked; sweat was sliding down the side of her neck thanks to their long battle, and her hair was mussed up quite terribly, but she was smiling and her face was flushed and her eyes were almost closed and that made her the most beautiful thing he'd ever had the honor of laying his eyes on.

He felt her breath brush lightly over his face as he leaned inexplicably closer to her, as he rubbed his nose tenderly against her own; his movements were slow but still nothing short of affectionate. With some sense of desperation, he sought her approval—to continue, perhaps—and he felt relief flood his senses when she nuzzled him back, the lighter mumbled sound of his name on her lips making him sigh—with pleasure, with elation—and he let his eyes slide closed as he managed to find her lips again.

Her fingers stroked his face as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her small body against him—whether it was protectively or for closer contact was something even he did not know. His armor was in the way, and suddenly he wished it wasn't, wished he could take it off and cast it aside, wished—

"Kent." She was pulling away from him again, and he was mentally flailing in confusion—why, why don't you want me, why am I not good enough?—but reality came flooding back to him like a river through a broken dam, and he blinked and choked lightly on a gasp that he realized a moment later he had made himself. I am not good enough, he thought to himself, not knowing or caring if that was the actual reason she pulled away, because to him, it was only the cold, hard truth.

He took a quick step back, releasing her as if the feel of her against his hands was burning him and nearly stumbled. He swallowed and flushed and tried to compose himself, but couldn't. Not…not after what he'd just allowed himself to do, oh…didn't he have more control than that? He did not even deserve to look at her, now… no, not after…after that.

"I'm sorry, I am sorry, I do not deserve your forgiveness, milady, but please…"


Her voice caused him to look up from a spot on the ground he'd been focusing on, and he blinked at her, his eyebrows drawn downward slightly in worry and confusion and shame. "Yes?" he whispered, his thoughts running wild. Perhaps she was only giving him something like a victory kiss…something that meant absolutely nothing. She had seemed so happy, after all, and he could not…could never… He did not have that kind of power, the power to make her smile that way, to make her eyes light up, to—

He felt her hand close around the collar of his shirt and pull him downward, and he was suddenly afraid, because she was so close, and he could feel her breath on his face again, and her lips were right there, and he wanted to feel them against his again, and—

"Everybody is watching," she murmured, and he swallowed almost nervously at the tone of her voice.

He didn't dare to look, couldn't imagine seeing the people he'd been in contact with for at least a year now, shaking their heads in disapproval of his shameful conduct. His mouth opened slightly as his brain tried to form a reply.

She beat him to it. Her hand still gripping the collar of his shirt, she pulled him down further and whispered in his ear, her lips tickling him and making a shiver run down his spine. "We'll finish this later."

His mouth fell open further, and he couldn't make a sound. She let her thumb rub over the skin in the middle of his collarbone at the hollow of his throat, and he took in a sharp breath of air through his nose. What did she mean…later? His heart thudded dangerously loud against his ribcage, and she smiled sweetly at him and let him go; his hand immediately went to his collar to pull the fabric away from his skin. He was suddenly feeling terribly warm…

Later, hmm? W-well, he supposed, if that was…was truly was she wanted…how could he even consider refusing her?


Author Notes:

Haha, mushy. Well, at any rate, I hope it was entertaining. If you couldn't tell, as far as a timeline goes, it takes place at the very end of the final battle. I'd love a review if you've got the time, constructive criticism is accepted, and last, but not least, thanks for reading!