Title: Rules Of Engagement
Series: Fire Emblem 10
Character/pairing: Tibarn/Reyson, mentions of Naesala/Leanne.
Author's note: cottoncandy_bingo: don't NEED to get married. Post series, spoilers for Reyson and Tibarn's ending.
"That went well," Tibarn said, as the last debate of the forest ended for the day. The room they came to was a small anteroom, made of cut stone and covered in vines and runic symbols of the ancient tongue. Reyson folded his graceful wings in order to slip through the doorway. Tibarn had to outright bend. Heron doorways were not made to accommodate their larger bird relatives.
"It did. I thought the ravens would be more difficult to integrate, but with Leanne and Naesala's impending wedding, things seem to be smoothing out," Reyson said.
He looked Tibarn over, and then shook his head. He straightened Tibarn's coat, and gave a satisfied nod. "There, much better. Don't forget, the Begnion are notoriously persnickety. They'll throw people out of court for the most superficial of things."
"Got it. I'll remember to roll in mud before I go," Tibarn said.
Reyson gave him a look, but there was a faint smile on his lips. He continued on without any other remark.
"Given that it's us, I doubt they'll incite a war over a tie, but you can never be too sure," Reyson said.
"Remind me why you aren't becoming my bride again, when you already act like my wife most days?" Tibarn said.
"Did Leanne give you another talk about my honor?" Reyson said.
"More or less. She seems to have been mistaken, thinking that I was stringing you along," Tibarn said.
"Why won't I marry you? Let me count the ways." Reyson began to count on his slim fingers as he went. "Because it would complicate the throne, because I would rather not be subjected to so many "bride" jokes given how many you already crack in any given day, and most of all because it is unneeded. I already am beside you every day. We share every meal, we travel together, we might as well rule together. The beorc notion of Ibastards/I isn't exactly a factor."
Reyson wore the crown of laurel in his hair of a politician, though the way he wore it looked more like a reigning queen than a mere politician. His voice meant more, and he held power to sway and balance Tibarn's every view, and every other member of the court knew it.
With no brush in the anteroom, Reyson combed his fingers through his long golden hair, steadying his own unofficial crown.
Tibarn wrapped his arms Reyson's waist, resting his head against Reyson's own. Reyson continued to comb his fingers through his hair, glancing at his appearance in the single mirror in the room. Ever so much, he leaned into Tibarn.
"You know how much I care about what people say," Tibarn said.
"A king should listen to his countrymen," Reyson said.
"Not in matters of the heart," Tibarn replied.
"You're just going to keep asking me, aren't you?" Reyson said.
Tibarn put his hand over Reyson's, the scarred hands of a warrior enclosing Reyson's softer, more fragile ones.
"I always get what I want," Tibarn said.
"You already have what you want," Reyson said.
"Every night, and everyone knows it," Tibarn said. "Which is why continuing on pretending is a waste of time."
"There is no need to pretend. If anyone asked, I wouldn't lie," Reyson said.
"And anyone in the land could already say you're the queen of this realm, or co-monarch as it will," Tibarn said.
"Indeed...You said you always get what you want. Such as the delicious berries you ate last night?" Reyson said pointedly.
Tibarn chuckled. "If I were to list off the number of ways you have bested or influenced me, we'd be here a hundred years."
Reyson inclined his head, turning to face Tibarn. "Do you really think this is a battle you will win?"
"Your stubbornness verses mine. That's sounds like a battle for the ages. I look forward to fighting with you every day for the rest of my life."
"Indeed. I'm sure the next thousand years will prove to be interesting," Reyson said. "They always are, around you."
"I wouldn't expect anything less, with you," Tibarn said.
He took Reyson's hand in his and squeezed it. After all, the fighting was half the fun.