[Challenge 011] Follow
Title: Follow
Game: FE8
Word Count: 494
Characters/Pairing: Ephraim, Eirika, Seth
Follow
"Hail King Ephraim!"
The Renais soldiers cheered as, the day won, their king rode through the ranks, raising his arm and nodding to them from atop his mount. The fading sunlight glinted off his splendid armour where it shone through the gore and mud. He sat erect in the saddle, triumphant, strong, and if his lance arm seemed to waver, it was only due to the hideous wound he'd taken in the last battle.
Kyle and Forde rode as always alongside him and had through all the battle with Grado's now scattered forces. Seth, too, had fought with the king, though normally he stayed always by Eirika's side. But the princess had taken ill shortly before the battle.
The king did not remove his helm as he dismounted and made his way back to his tent. Seth kept an anxious watch on him all the way and followed behind. Kyle and Forde kept guard outside; they knew what sight would greet any who were to enter.
The armed monarch approached the cot in the centre of the tent. The figure there stirred. The blankets draped around him fell away from his bandaged torso as he raised a head of short-cropped hair.
The armoured figure sat next to the cot and pulled off the slightly ill-fitting helm. A sea of long hair came tumbling down. "How are you feeling, Brother?"
"Fine," he said, wincing only a little. "L'Arachel says another few treatments and some rest will see me as good as new." Bits of padding dropped from the too-large armour as Eirika loosened its straps. Ephraim glanced up at Seth. "Couldn't you talk her out of it?"
Seth ducked his head, looking pained. "I tried, My Lord."
Smiling wanly, Eirika reached back to pat Seth's arm. "He did. But I ordered him to keep silent and help me with your armour."
A wry smile curled Ephraim's lips though his features remained pale and drawn. "You were always too headstrong for your own good, Sister dear."
"Someone had to salvage the situation. Besides," she added with raised eyebrows, "I had the idea from you. You did say once when we were in Grado that if I were to don your clothes I could pass for you." Ephraim groaned. "What was it you said? I'm so skinny you doubt anyone would notice I'm not a man? Was that it?"
Seth raised an eyebrow as if to suggest that he did not quite agree, but he kept his lips tightly shut.
Ephraim held up his hands, palm outward. "Peace, sister."
Eirika took his hands in hers and squeezed them. "There's no harm in any case. The day is won. Grado's forces are on the retreat again."
Sighing, Ephraim took a long look at her and then shook his head. "You didn't need to do this," he said. "They would have followed you."
"Yes, but if Renais is to be restored, they need to follow you."
The End
A/N: I'd have liked to have been able to write a slightly longer piece for this prompt. I think the story would have worked better if I could have actually shown the battle at the start and built up the suspense more. Oh well. Here it is, just six words shy of the 500 limit.
Game: FE8
Word Count: 494
Characters/Pairing: Ephraim, Eirika, Seth
"Hail King Ephraim!"
The Renais soldiers cheered as, the day won, their king rode through the ranks, raising his arm and nodding to them from atop his mount. The fading sunlight glinted off his splendid armour where it shone through the gore and mud. He sat erect in the saddle, triumphant, strong, and if his lance arm seemed to waver, it was only due to the hideous wound he'd taken in the last battle.
Kyle and Forde rode as always alongside him and had through all the battle with Grado's now scattered forces. Seth, too, had fought with the king, though normally he stayed always by Eirika's side. But the princess had taken ill shortly before the battle.
The king did not remove his helm as he dismounted and made his way back to his tent. Seth kept an anxious watch on him all the way and followed behind. Kyle and Forde kept guard outside; they knew what sight would greet any who were to enter.
The armed monarch approached the cot in the centre of the tent. The figure there stirred. The blankets draped around him fell away from his bandaged torso as he raised a head of short-cropped hair.
The armoured figure sat next to the cot and pulled off the slightly ill-fitting helm. A sea of long hair came tumbling down. "How are you feeling, Brother?"
"Fine," he said, wincing only a little. "L'Arachel says another few treatments and some rest will see me as good as new." Bits of padding dropped from the too-large armour as Eirika loosened its straps. Ephraim glanced up at Seth. "Couldn't you talk her out of it?"
Seth ducked his head, looking pained. "I tried, My Lord."
Smiling wanly, Eirika reached back to pat Seth's arm. "He did. But I ordered him to keep silent and help me with your armour."
A wry smile curled Ephraim's lips though his features remained pale and drawn. "You were always too headstrong for your own good, Sister dear."
"Someone had to salvage the situation. Besides," she added with raised eyebrows, "I had the idea from you. You did say once when we were in Grado that if I were to don your clothes I could pass for you." Ephraim groaned. "What was it you said? I'm so skinny you doubt anyone would notice I'm not a man? Was that it?"
Seth raised an eyebrow as if to suggest that he did not quite agree, but he kept his lips tightly shut.
Ephraim held up his hands, palm outward. "Peace, sister."
Eirika took his hands in hers and squeezed them. "There's no harm in any case. The day is won. Grado's forces are on the retreat again."
Sighing, Ephraim took a long look at her and then shook his head. "You didn't need to do this," he said. "They would have followed you."
"Yes, but if Renais is to be restored, they need to follow you."
A/N: I'd have liked to have been able to write a slightly longer piece for this prompt. I think the story would have worked better if I could have actually shown the battle at the start and built up the suspense more. Oh well. Here it is, just six words shy of the 500 limit.