[untitled sad FE7 junk]
Jul. 29th, 2014 08:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Rekka no Ken
Characters: Sain, Lyn
Word count: ~500
Warnings: Major character death
Notes: A friend has started livestreaming FE7 recently. I could wax all poetic about how strange and yet how awesome it is to see a game that's been part of my life for eleven years (and was literally the only video game I had access to for two of them) be NEW to people -
Or I could just say that people in the chat straight-up challenged me to kill off either Kent or Sain and write out the other's reaction. DID ANYONE SERIOUSLY THINK I WASN'T GONNA DO IT
They told him Kent was dead. He'd never heard something so ridiculous in all his life. “How did it happen, then?” he said, because like all such cruel jokes it was bound to fall apart under scrutiny.
He fought bravely and well, they said, but there was an ambush. He saw to it his companions escaped with their lives, but in staying behind -
At this point Sain had stopped listening. Over Lady Lyndis's shoulder he could see someone else leading Kent's horse, and the saddle was empty. Kent would never have given the reins to another while he still drew breath. That made it real.
“I see,” he said, before his throat closed off completely, and pointed off into the distance in any random direction as if he'd got urgent business there. “Forgive me, my lady, I... I must...”
“Of course.”
He walked away from the encamped army a good way, far enough that it wouldn't disturb the ladies, before he let himself cry. You were taught as a knight that you should expect to lose some comrades, but oh, Elimine, that wasn't supposed to apply to Kent. His legs folded under him and pitched him toward the ground, and there he stayed.
Lady Lyndis followed him, after a while. “Sain. May I sit with you?”
“Milady, please turn back. I beg you. I don't mean to create a spectacle – spare me not another thought. Carrying on like this in your presence when you've just lost your finest and most trusted -”
“You lost him, too.” Over his protests, she sat down beside him anyway. “I don't know how these things are done in Lycia. If it's improper to share this sorrow, today we will be Sacaean.”
He put his head in his hands. They remained there til sunset.
But the fact remained that Kent had been the best man Caelin had, and Sain could not replace him. Not on the field of battle, where he'd always seemed to be everywhere at once, and not off it, where he was ever the bastion of good sense, always serious, always thoughtful. “Serious” came far more easily now than it had in recent memory, but the rest... It was impossible to know just how much Kent had been doing to keep Lady Lyndis's path smooth until suddenly no one was doing it anymore.
He tried to pick up the slack, but he wasn't cut out for being the voice of reason. He wasn't any good at any of this. He was letting her down in ways Kent never would have, and there was no one else to turn to.
“Perhaps,” he said on the eve of a battle, “it would be wiser not to rush blindly into this?” It sounded unnatural when he said it, unconvincing. It got him odd looks from the rest of Lyndis's Legion. He didn't even really believe it, but someone had to say it or everything would feel wrong.
The silence dragged out. Maybe everything was going to feel wrong anyway.
Lady Lyndis met his eyes. “I miss him, too.”
He turned and walked out of the camp, and far enough away that it wouldn't bother anyone.
Characters: Sain, Lyn
Word count: ~500
Warnings: Major character death
Notes: A friend has started livestreaming FE7 recently. I could wax all poetic about how strange and yet how awesome it is to see a game that's been part of my life for eleven years (and was literally the only video game I had access to for two of them) be NEW to people -
Or I could just say that people in the chat straight-up challenged me to kill off either Kent or Sain and write out the other's reaction. DID ANYONE SERIOUSLY THINK I WASN'T GONNA DO IT
They told him Kent was dead. He'd never heard something so ridiculous in all his life. “How did it happen, then?” he said, because like all such cruel jokes it was bound to fall apart under scrutiny.
He fought bravely and well, they said, but there was an ambush. He saw to it his companions escaped with their lives, but in staying behind -
At this point Sain had stopped listening. Over Lady Lyndis's shoulder he could see someone else leading Kent's horse, and the saddle was empty. Kent would never have given the reins to another while he still drew breath. That made it real.
“I see,” he said, before his throat closed off completely, and pointed off into the distance in any random direction as if he'd got urgent business there. “Forgive me, my lady, I... I must...”
“Of course.”
He walked away from the encamped army a good way, far enough that it wouldn't disturb the ladies, before he let himself cry. You were taught as a knight that you should expect to lose some comrades, but oh, Elimine, that wasn't supposed to apply to Kent. His legs folded under him and pitched him toward the ground, and there he stayed.
Lady Lyndis followed him, after a while. “Sain. May I sit with you?”
“Milady, please turn back. I beg you. I don't mean to create a spectacle – spare me not another thought. Carrying on like this in your presence when you've just lost your finest and most trusted -”
“You lost him, too.” Over his protests, she sat down beside him anyway. “I don't know how these things are done in Lycia. If it's improper to share this sorrow, today we will be Sacaean.”
He put his head in his hands. They remained there til sunset.
But the fact remained that Kent had been the best man Caelin had, and Sain could not replace him. Not on the field of battle, where he'd always seemed to be everywhere at once, and not off it, where he was ever the bastion of good sense, always serious, always thoughtful. “Serious” came far more easily now than it had in recent memory, but the rest... It was impossible to know just how much Kent had been doing to keep Lady Lyndis's path smooth until suddenly no one was doing it anymore.
He tried to pick up the slack, but he wasn't cut out for being the voice of reason. He wasn't any good at any of this. He was letting her down in ways Kent never would have, and there was no one else to turn to.
“Perhaps,” he said on the eve of a battle, “it would be wiser not to rush blindly into this?” It sounded unnatural when he said it, unconvincing. It got him odd looks from the rest of Lyndis's Legion. He didn't even really believe it, but someone had to say it or everything would feel wrong.
The silence dragged out. Maybe everything was going to feel wrong anyway.
Lady Lyndis met his eyes. “I miss him, too.”
He turned and walked out of the camp, and far enough away that it wouldn't bother anyone.