Disclaimer- I don't own Suikoden V
A tribute to Roy.
The first thing Roy could remember was grabbing a loaf of bread off someone else's plate. The second thing was running for his life when that someone noticed. This is how he lived his life; taking whatever he could from someone else. There's was no other way he could survive.
The young thief was walking down the street one day and noticed the scene: a small girl and her large brother cornered by an angry shopkeeper. He shoved the boy aside and grabbed the girl, telling her how she could repay him. It disgusted Roy. Drawing a sword he stole earlier, he ran the guy though.
While the siblings thanked him, Roy told them to empty out their pockets. The girl said they had nothing, just the loaf of bread they stole. The thief felt stir something deep inside him. Instead he told them to empty out the shop keeper's pockets.
From that day forward, both Faylen and Faylon refused to leave him. The former stuttered whenever he talked to her, and the latter wouldn't stop talking-or eating. On the whole they were far more trouble than they were worth. Eventually he ditched them by darting into alley. It worked, but he found someone else.
It was a pack of thugs known as the 'alley urchins'. He stole a load of potch from their hideout two weeks ago, and forgotten about it until that moment. As they surrounded him, he took out his blade and he made sure his back was to the wall.
Suddenly a large mass of flesh ran screaming into the mob. Several of them were knocked down and one in particular was being pummeled by a large pair of fists. The rest were pelted by a stones hurled from a roof top. The distraction was just what Roy needed to finish them off.
"Now we're even." he said
"No," Faylon said, "Friends don't keep track."
"W-we're b-better off together." Faylen said. She was blushing, but whether it was from extertion or something else, Roy couldn't say. "P-please let us j-join you."
The pauper didn't realize it then, but this was the beginning of his court.
As they traveled and raided, others were attracted to him. Some wanted to join and others he asked personally because he needed them for one reason or another. Within a few years time, he had his own band of outlaws.
I look just like him... he thought, so why does he suck on a silver spoon while I have to steal one? The thought consumed him day and night. He listened to every bit of info he could learn about the Prince. When he heard about Freyadour's duel in the Sacred Games, he found a sansetsukon and taught himself how to use it. When he heard of his Dawn Warriors Commander outfit, he got himself one just like it. He even taught himself to read and write to close the distance between them even further. If we're exactly the same, why does he have a castle while I have nothing? So he built himself one in the mountains near Sable.
Then that frilly necked wimp, Euram Barrows, showed up. The prissy noble went on and on about how horrible the Prince was, and how much Roy resembled him. The fob was so oblivious he didn't even notice Roy clutching his weapon. The band jumped at the money he offered but that's not why Roy agreeed. Now was his chance! He could finally close the distance!
At least...so he thought.
The Prince himself appeared. At first he didn't care, but then that bodyguard girl spoke up. Not only were they the same, he was better! This was the last thing he could take, the Prince's very identity.
But he lost. After all his brawls with thugs and merchant guards and soldiers, he lost. The real prince outmanuvered him every step of the way; seemed to know what he would do before he himself did. Roy waited for the killing blow, but all Freyadour did was disarm him. Roy was stunned; mercy was an unknown concept to him. He demanded a big execution and even goaded him to do it.
But Freyadour simply he folded his weapon and walked away.
The fake prince's court was disbanded except for its original members, and all three of them joined that of the real prince. After exposing his former employer as a clueless fop, Roy was taken to Freyadour's castle. He tried not to show it, but he was amazed. It was so much bigger and better than his mountain lair, there was no comparison. For days on end, he lived there, in his double's castle. No, flip that. The Prince's double lived in the Prince's castle.
It was still fun. Making lazy guards jump to attention, talking strategy with the fan lady, meeting long time Prince allies like the swordsdude and his Inn chick. All he had to do was wear his wig and he could fool everyone in the castle. Everyone that is, except one.
The only person he couldn't fool was the Prince's own bodyguard. No matter how he dressed or spoke or acted, she always knew who was who. As long as she was around, 'Freyadour' and 'Roy' would always be distinct, seperate people. Never interchangeable. Not even when he was offically on duty.
He started to follow her around as part of learning his disguise. If he could fool her; if he could get Lyon, the girl who was attached to Freyadour at the hip...if he could get even her to acknowledge him as Prince......The thought made him giddy.
Then something strange happened. Merely the thought of Lyon at all made him giddy. He just like being around her, even if he learned nothing about the Prince. Instead he learned about Lyon: her mannerisms and favorite foods and hobbies and....
Then he heard about The Queen's Campaign. The real prince was assigned to rescue Lymsleia, as her real brother, there was none better. Roy was again relegated to 'distraction'. However, this distraction involved leading the entire Dawn Warrior's Army into battle. Roy knew this was as close as he'd ever get to being the real Prince, so he decided to make it perfect. He walked away muttering bitterly.
Even now, with the outcome of the war up in the air, Lyon refused to see 'Freyadour' and 'Roy' as interchangeable.
Battles were fought, cities and towns were won and lost. Finally, the war came to Dawn Beacon's doorstep. Even a vailant last stand of its army couldn't turn the invaders. Roy was eavesdropping just outside the war room when heard Childerich's challenge. While they discused it, he was already running.
Childerich now lay beaten at his feet. His skills had been polished since his loss to the real prince, and this time he was the victor. Then an arrow stabbed his shoulder; Roy derided their lack of honor.
More arrows came. He stood his ground and twirled his weapon. Finally one nailed him. Childerich laughed and stumbled towards him. A bright flash of light blinded them both, and Roy felt a pair of warm arms surround him.
Suddenly he heard a gasp. Then an old lady shouting orders. Viki's voice.....it sounded so far away......commending him for his bravery and self-sacrifice. Then he heard tears. He lifted his head to grin at her.
".....Are you cryin'.... fer me.....sweetie?"