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Non-Pokémon Sparks of War [Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones] [Seth/Eirika]

myuma

I still think about y%#'()_*{\\"'&36)%("'$&''&(15y
Pronouns
she/her
CW: Mentions of war and death.
Summary: Snapshots of Seth and Eirika's relationship as they fight to take back their home. Part III takes place after their A support.
A/N: The gap between my skills and my ability to recognise quality writing is strong. However, this is the first fic I've ever completed! Yay!


I​

A soothing breeze ruffled the bushy first canopy, glimmers of the night sky shining through its ever shifting gaps. Eirika lay nestled amongst the tree roots. The moonlight turned her hair silver and danced across her innocent, sleeping face.

Like an forest nymph, Seth noted. His heart fluttered.

Then he caught himself - she was a princess, he was her knight, and this was no fairy tale.

His king was dead. Where was he going to go with no leader? How had he not defended the man he had sworn to devote his life to? Seth was following his final orders now. Perhaps, if he had thrown down his duty on that one night - if he had refused to escape - he would never have felt so lost.

"Father..."

The princess's soft voice caught his attention. He remained silent.

"Ephraim..."

Her voice was gentle in her sleep, but not less than a day ago her voice rang through the throne room of Renais Castle with pure determination.

"Father, let me help!"

Fado's face, though resigned, was lined with regret. Seth firmly gripped Eirika's waist and lifted her onto his horse. A strange feeling flashed through his mind at being so close to the princess; he wondered if he was turning as mad as the world around him. The clamour of fighting echoed in the castle antechambers.

"Go to Frelia. King Hayden will protect you, for he is a good man."

"Father!" Her voice was a mixture of indignation and pleading.

"Go, Seth!" the king commanded. "Take her to safety!"

The cacophony of shouts outside began to spill into the throne room. The king still stood, resolute, hoping that the world had not gone mad.

I can't leave you here, sir - what use is my service if I can't defend you at a time like this -

Eirika's arms wrapped around his body, and Seth steeled himself. He still had orders to follow. A kick of his heels and they were flying away from their home, like a dove startled by a hawk.

The cold wind now licking his face alerted him to a new sense of unease. Not one caused by the battlefield, but something within.

Admiration. Untrained in combat though she was, Eirika felt the desire to help, to defend what was good. But that respect was expected of a knight in his princess's service.

No, deeper than that...

He was captivated by her. If only he could escape this land entirely, uninhibited by the trappings of their lives. And though he knew in his bones that his duty would never let him pursue it, his desire pierced his heart with the unrelenting urgency of an arrow wound.

II​

Frelia Castle’s weathered stone walls comforted Eirika the moment she had spotted them on the horizon. Now, oblivious to the sumptuously furnished room she was staying in, memories swam through her mind: playing in the manicured rose gardens with the Frelian royal siblings in her seventh summer; picnics a few years later to gossip with Tana; in the castle’s armory, only two years ago, she learnt to wield a spear for a war that could never happen.

‘War’ was still just a rumour here. Frelia’s inhabitants were living a couple of moments behind her, their reality hanging on a knife’s edge.

Father is dead. Ephraim’s missing. Lyon…

“Your Highness, may I enter?”

Eirika jumped. She glanced around the room, sighed, then called, “Yes. You may.”

Seth walked past her carrying a bundle of logs, which he set down by the fireplace, and said flatly, “With King Hayden’s regards.”

His left arm was still encased in bandages, but they must have been changed recently, because she was dreading the sight of them soaked with blood – bloodied like they had been since Valter attacked Renais that night. That wound, which only existed because she had never learnt to fight as well as her sibling. She was certain he grimaced each time he had to move. Bringing the logs to her must have hurt...

He looked at her. “Would you prefer to start the fire tonight, Your Highness?”

She remembered how, earlier in their travels, Seth guided her as she tried to stack kindling. One pile after another fizzled, despite the dry weather. He must have remembered how incompetent she was.

“I’ll – I - I’m sorry.” She bit her lips, trying to focus on something, wishing her vision wasn’t growing blurry from tears. A quick glance at his face and she saw the lines from stress, the dark bags under his eyes. “Seth, don’t - push yourself.”

Shame rushed through her and she was heaving with sobs before she knew it. “You took that wound for me. Father died because of me! Seth, I’m sorry! I didn’t want you to get hurt! I didn’t w-want this war… A-are… Is your arm alright - ”

A warm hand surrounded Eirika’s, pressing a delicate piece of fabric into it, and did not let go.

“Your Highness, my arm is unlikely to regain its full strength. But I want you to know - protecting you was my choice. It is a choice I would have made even if I had not been a knight.”

“Even if… you weren’t…?” Eirika blew her nose on the handkerchief Seth had given her. “Seth… you’re too kind. Father should have lived instead…”

“Such thoughts haunt my mind day and night,” Seth murmured. “Princess, you would not have had to feel this way, if I had only stayed to protect him...”

Eirika squeezed his hand. Only the dying fire, sputtering as it used the last of its fuel, could be heard in the late evening. Seth sat patiently in the chair next to hers. Her heart jumped; only lovers held each other’s hands like this. But she chided herself: Stop being foolish. This isn’t the time to start blushing. We’re talking about Father’s death.

“It seems we both feel that way.” Eirika blinked tears from her eyes. “I’ve always hated how much I have to rely on other people. I want to repay their sacrifices.”

“I understand,” Seth said gently. “We will have to sacrifice more and more if we continue to fight for Renais, Princess. The oath I took is still strong – I am at your disposal.”

She thought of Seth lifting her onto his horse. She had been shocked by his strength, and astonished, a few hours later, to see him fighting toe to toe with one of Grado’s most vicious generals. She thought of Ephraim, her reckless twin who was deep in enemy territory, somewhere. The difference between the twins had always been clear: the tiniest spark could set his fighting spirit ablaze, and he would race to find a way to crush the problems blocking his path. All she could do was talk, and compromise, and lose ground as everyone else charged ahead.

“I had to hide behind you when the bandits chased us, too…” She sighed. “What use is diplomacy in a war so senseless?”

Seth gripped her hand tightly. “Princess, please don’t downplay your talents. Grado may not listen, but with your kindness, we are sure to find allies in other nations. Your role is just as valuable as mine. And… your willingness to fight – then and now – has always impressed me.”

Eirika smiled wryly. “It’s what anyone would do.”

“I would and you would, but many other’s wouldn’t,” Seth said. “Plenty of our soldiers dropped their swords and ran once it became clear Renais was falling. But you stayed for as long as you could; everything since the attack has shown me you are as brave as anyone on the front lines.”

She felt her face growing warm. “Seth, there’s no need to flatter me…”

Seth shook his head. “Princess, I mean what I say.”

The fire had burnt out now. She went to the fireplace and added some kindling, then used a basic fire spell, hoping it would catch. Glancing back, she noticed Seth watching with interest.

“Seth,” she said, “I want to become useful in battle, too. I’m not satisfied when having to hide… Would you teach me? Teach me how to use a sword so that I can defend myself?”

Seth smiled, his dark eyes sparkling. Relief filled Eirika’s chest.

“When shall we start?”

III​

The days between battles stretched to weeks as the distances to cover grew longer and preparations more calculated, and Seth was grateful for a chance to rest. These quiet days were echoes of peacetime. Before Grado invaded, his only experience of battle was fighting petty bandits or fending off mercenaries sent to depose King Fado. Those stakes seemed almost petty now that the fate of the continent rested on his success.

Seth stared at the canyon in front of him, frowning as he often did when thinking of the war.

“Hey, Seth.”

“Ah, Cormag,” Seth said, and turned to face his surly friend. “What brings you?”

Cormag shrugged. “Boredom.”

Seth turned back towards the canyon, and a moment later asked -

“I know this happened before you joined us, but have you heard of Orson?”

“That man who went mad for his wife? I’ve heard some stories.”

“He missed her so deeply that he didn’t care what evils he brought upon Renais. As disgusted as I am... part of me understands.”

He glanced at Cormag to gauge his reaction. His friend was watching him with sympathy.

“Love corrupts people. That’s what it means to love. It corrupted Carlyle, and he too was the most highly regarded knight of his land. How can a knight stand up for justice if he holds something else closer to his heart?”

The cool breeze did little to comfort his shame. His chest still ached whenever he thought of the day he rejected Eirika.

“Then you’ve got to end your love,” Cormag said firmly. “It’s sad, but sometimes there’s no other choice.”

This time, it was Seth who quietly listened.

“I was in that kind of situation with Emperor Vigarde. Yeah, I know it doesn’t involve some girl, but hear me out. He was family to me. I wanted to help him snap out of it – I wanted to help him return to the man he was before…”

Cormag sighed. “Then my brother got killed because of his crazy ideas. There is no way I could have supported Vigarde after that. No way.”
Cormag’s reaction to his circumstances left a strong impression on Seth. Although Vigarde was alive, his newfound tyranny caused Cormag to turn traitor. The warm feelings between the two had gone up in flames and turned to ashes, leaving behind a bitter taste in the air – but his friend was still moving forwards, following the virtues he had once shared with his king.

Now that Fado was gone, his alleigance lay with Eirika. He knew how gentle she was, but the refrain of “what if?” began to race through his mind again. What if she decided that doing terrible deeds was worth it, if it led to saving the country? What if he loved her enough to wilfully ignore what he knew was right? What if the sorrow of leaving made him too afraid to escape the limbo?

“I - I can only imagine what such a loss feels like, and the strength it takes to have done the right thing. You’re a brave man, Cormag. I’m afraid… scared I would buckle under the pressure of choosing.”

Cormag laughed sarcastically. “Oh, I think about ‘buckling’ every day. Maybe I could’ve done something to help Vigarde, or save Glen. Or maybe… maybe I could go back and change something - anything - to return to the Grado I came from. I’m not as brave as you think.”

It suddenly crossed Seth’s mind that Cormag had the same fears he did. “Yet... you still chose to fight against Grado’s tyranny.”

“Yeah.” Cormag smiled wryly. “Things change. I can’t go back there again. But if our efforts in this war pay off, one day we can return to somewhere nice - just as nice as the past.”

The pair remained in silence for a while.
 
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