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shinonFandom: Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance
Characters: Rolf, Shinon
Word count: 300
Warnings: Language
Notes: Treat for![[archiveofourown.org profile]](https://p2.dreamwidth.org/b164c54b26e4/-/archiveofourown.org/favicon.ico)
Hyacinthus for the Multifandom Drabble Exchange.
He has nightmares, sometimes, where Uncle Shinon is bleeding.
“C’mon, Rolf. A gutshot’s no way to go. Aim higher. A dying man can still fight back, if he’s dying slow enough.” But in the dream he doesn’t shoot. Rolf doesn’t either, but it’s too late. The fletching on the arrow is his, green and white between Uncle Shinon’s fingers.
Six times he has this dream, and doesn’t say anything, and Rhys wants to give him medicine for all the shaking. The seventh time, he wakes in the dark and he’s had enough. Uncle Shinon is on watch tonight. Rolf goes to find him.
“I’m never going to fight you,” he says. “Not ever. I thought about what you said, about being a mercenary, and I think it’s stupid. I’m not here for money. I’m here for my family and my friends. If - if we end up on opposite sides of some job, then it’s a stupid job and it’s wrong, and I won’t shoot. No matter who’s paying or how much. Never.”
Uncle Shinon’s posture is stiff and surprised. “Okay. Thanks? Now pipe down before you wake the whole base.”
“You’re not listening!”
“Shit, how can I not be listening? I can’t hear anything else.” Then he sighs. “Shit,” he says again, in a different tone, “are you crying?”
Rolf hugs him. He doesn’t normally - it’s like trying to hug a pile of elbows and swear words - but sometimes you just have to. “Uncle Shinon, I…”
“Hey, it’s fine. I’m staying with the company. You don’t have to worry about that now.”
Rolf looks up. “You promise?”
He goes still. Finally he says: “Sure, whatever.” Rolf hugs him tighter. “You’re a good kid,” says Uncle Shinon, giving him an uncomfortable pat on the head. “You deserve better than this, y’know.”
Characters: Rolf, Shinon
Word count: 300
Warnings: Language
Notes: Treat for
He has nightmares, sometimes, where Uncle Shinon is bleeding.
“C’mon, Rolf. A gutshot’s no way to go. Aim higher. A dying man can still fight back, if he’s dying slow enough.” But in the dream he doesn’t shoot. Rolf doesn’t either, but it’s too late. The fletching on the arrow is his, green and white between Uncle Shinon’s fingers.
Six times he has this dream, and doesn’t say anything, and Rhys wants to give him medicine for all the shaking. The seventh time, he wakes in the dark and he’s had enough. Uncle Shinon is on watch tonight. Rolf goes to find him.
“I’m never going to fight you,” he says. “Not ever. I thought about what you said, about being a mercenary, and I think it’s stupid. I’m not here for money. I’m here for my family and my friends. If - if we end up on opposite sides of some job, then it’s a stupid job and it’s wrong, and I won’t shoot. No matter who’s paying or how much. Never.”
Uncle Shinon’s posture is stiff and surprised. “Okay. Thanks? Now pipe down before you wake the whole base.”
“You’re not listening!”
“Shit, how can I not be listening? I can’t hear anything else.” Then he sighs. “Shit,” he says again, in a different tone, “are you crying?”
Rolf hugs him. He doesn’t normally - it’s like trying to hug a pile of elbows and swear words - but sometimes you just have to. “Uncle Shinon, I…”
“Hey, it’s fine. I’m staying with the company. You don’t have to worry about that now.”
Rolf looks up. “You promise?”
He goes still. Finally he says: “Sure, whatever.” Rolf hugs him tighter. “You’re a good kid,” says Uncle Shinon, giving him an uncomfortable pat on the head. “You deserve better than this, y’know.”
