[random FE7 snippet]
Apr. 17th, 2016 10:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shinonFandom: Fire Emblem 7
Characters: Kent/Sain. Kinda.
Word count: ~800
Warnings: Alcohol
Notes: It didn't get as shippy as I intended, but feel free to read this with the understanding that these guys are pretty much married and just don't know it yet. Because that was my general approach. And this is actually a discarded scene from... what was intended to be a longer and more involved Kent/Sain fic, except it may never materialize since (see above) I just chucked half my material. Shrug.
The hall was filled with lights and voices and the fumes of ale and roasted meat. Kent had to leave. He made certain that no one saw him, and that all the speeches were done for the night, before he ducked through the archway and made his way out to the battlements. He meant no disrespect. This was a measure to preserve sanity, nothing else.
Still, as he stepped out into the open night air, he had to admit – he didn't find the scene he had just left behind a respectable one. Yes, they had just completed their first year of training to become knights of Caelin. Certainly that was an event worth celebrating. But he had not pledged his service for raucous parties. Even more disappointing: General Wallace himself had tacitly endorsed these goings-on, even as he sternly reminded them all that training would resume the next day. General Wallace might, in fact, have paid for all the food. It was… not appropriate. Kent rested his hands on the worn stones of the castle walls, still giving off the lingering heat from the day, and stared out at the stars. This was a time for restraint. For somber self-reflection and, if merited, a quiet pride. Not for getting woozy on Khathelet beer and trying to arm wrestle every single one of your comrades.
He had given into the pressure on the first score, but he thoroughly regretted that now. He would not do it again. In the future he would try to set a better example of knightly conduct. In the future he would be above reproach. For now, he would collect his thoughts, keep away from his fellows, and seek an early bed. He might take a few extra runs at the quintain tomorrow as penance for slipping.
Footsteps rang out on the stone behind him. He swallowed and steeled himself to apologize for his conduct, but the newcomer spoke first.
"Kent!" It was Sain. He sounded delighted. "Kent Kent Kent Kent." He was over-enunciating, his voice coming down on an odd click between the T and the next K. "I've been searching all over for you."
Kent turned and looked him up and down. "Did you need something from me?" he said, coolly. He would not encourage this behavior.
"No, no, I just wanted to see you. You vanished so quickly! Is that a knightly thing to do, abandoning your companions like that? Leaving us to the tender mercies of entirely too much food and drink –" Then Sain frowned and took a step closer. His gaze was wobbly, but behind it something lucid still remained. "Here, you look a bit peaked. Something amiss?"
"No. Nothing." Kent shook his head. The world continued spinning for a few moments after he stopped. He was still master of his own will, but everything was so bright and blurry, and more so when he moved. It was unpleasant. He had made a mistake.
Sain clapped a hand over his mouth and staggered back in showy astonishment. "Don't tell me!" He was grinning. "You've actually never been drunk before!"
"I'm not now." Mostly. "And I don't intend to start."
"Oh, Kent, my poor sweet young innocent."
"You're only a year older than me."
Sain threw an arm around his shoulders and said, louder, "Oh, Kent, you toothless babe, you precious unversed lamb! My heart bleeds for you. The rude awakenings lying in wait around every corner. You're too pure for this world."
"Let go of me."
"No, let me explain." He held up a finger importantly. "We're all working hard for a common goal. We all treat the matter with excruciating seriousness." He had somehow gotten an extra two or three syllables into "seriousness." "All the exercises, all the drills, all the lessons we have to learn – it's demanding. And we do take it seriously, we do, but to do all that day in and day out creates a certain amount of stress. Now, you" - he poked Kent in the nose. Kent was too shocked at the audacity to make a timely response - "love stress. You cherish stress as if it were your firstborn child. But the rest of your companions, we mere mortals, need to relax now and again. Stop worrying about what's proper and do what's fun. Besides, we'll all have to rely on each other one day. We should all spend time together as friends. Build some common memories besides sword forms and tactics."
"Perhaps." Kent frowned. "This is still a foolish way to do it."
"This is exactly as foolish as it should be," said Sain. Then he tilted his head thoughtfully. "Actually, no." He took hold of Kent's face and kissed him. "Now it is." Then he removed his arm from Kent's shoulder and hurried off.
Kent didn't make much of it. Sain was Sain. And the next day, fortunately, everyone would be back to business.
Characters: Kent/Sain. Kinda.
Word count: ~800
Warnings: Alcohol
Notes: It didn't get as shippy as I intended, but feel free to read this with the understanding that these guys are pretty much married and just don't know it yet. Because that was my general approach. And this is actually a discarded scene from... what was intended to be a longer and more involved Kent/Sain fic, except it may never materialize since (see above) I just chucked half my material. Shrug.
The hall was filled with lights and voices and the fumes of ale and roasted meat. Kent had to leave. He made certain that no one saw him, and that all the speeches were done for the night, before he ducked through the archway and made his way out to the battlements. He meant no disrespect. This was a measure to preserve sanity, nothing else.
Still, as he stepped out into the open night air, he had to admit – he didn't find the scene he had just left behind a respectable one. Yes, they had just completed their first year of training to become knights of Caelin. Certainly that was an event worth celebrating. But he had not pledged his service for raucous parties. Even more disappointing: General Wallace himself had tacitly endorsed these goings-on, even as he sternly reminded them all that training would resume the next day. General Wallace might, in fact, have paid for all the food. It was… not appropriate. Kent rested his hands on the worn stones of the castle walls, still giving off the lingering heat from the day, and stared out at the stars. This was a time for restraint. For somber self-reflection and, if merited, a quiet pride. Not for getting woozy on Khathelet beer and trying to arm wrestle every single one of your comrades.
He had given into the pressure on the first score, but he thoroughly regretted that now. He would not do it again. In the future he would try to set a better example of knightly conduct. In the future he would be above reproach. For now, he would collect his thoughts, keep away from his fellows, and seek an early bed. He might take a few extra runs at the quintain tomorrow as penance for slipping.
Footsteps rang out on the stone behind him. He swallowed and steeled himself to apologize for his conduct, but the newcomer spoke first.
"Kent!" It was Sain. He sounded delighted. "Kent Kent Kent Kent." He was over-enunciating, his voice coming down on an odd click between the T and the next K. "I've been searching all over for you."
Kent turned and looked him up and down. "Did you need something from me?" he said, coolly. He would not encourage this behavior.
"No, no, I just wanted to see you. You vanished so quickly! Is that a knightly thing to do, abandoning your companions like that? Leaving us to the tender mercies of entirely too much food and drink –" Then Sain frowned and took a step closer. His gaze was wobbly, but behind it something lucid still remained. "Here, you look a bit peaked. Something amiss?"
"No. Nothing." Kent shook his head. The world continued spinning for a few moments after he stopped. He was still master of his own will, but everything was so bright and blurry, and more so when he moved. It was unpleasant. He had made a mistake.
Sain clapped a hand over his mouth and staggered back in showy astonishment. "Don't tell me!" He was grinning. "You've actually never been drunk before!"
"I'm not now." Mostly. "And I don't intend to start."
"Oh, Kent, my poor sweet young innocent."
"You're only a year older than me."
Sain threw an arm around his shoulders and said, louder, "Oh, Kent, you toothless babe, you precious unversed lamb! My heart bleeds for you. The rude awakenings lying in wait around every corner. You're too pure for this world."
"Let go of me."
"No, let me explain." He held up a finger importantly. "We're all working hard for a common goal. We all treat the matter with excruciating seriousness." He had somehow gotten an extra two or three syllables into "seriousness." "All the exercises, all the drills, all the lessons we have to learn – it's demanding. And we do take it seriously, we do, but to do all that day in and day out creates a certain amount of stress. Now, you" - he poked Kent in the nose. Kent was too shocked at the audacity to make a timely response - "love stress. You cherish stress as if it were your firstborn child. But the rest of your companions, we mere mortals, need to relax now and again. Stop worrying about what's proper and do what's fun. Besides, we'll all have to rely on each other one day. We should all spend time together as friends. Build some common memories besides sword forms and tactics."
"Perhaps." Kent frowned. "This is still a foolish way to do it."
"This is exactly as foolish as it should be," said Sain. Then he tilted his head thoughtfully. "Actually, no." He took hold of Kent's face and kissed him. "Now it is." Then he removed his arm from Kent's shoulder and hurried off.
Kent didn't make much of it. Sain was Sain. And the next day, fortunately, everyone would be back to business.
