fic: Past Tense Plural
Feb. 20th, 2012 01:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: Past Tense Plural
Series: FE9
Character/pairing: light Lethe/Mist/Jill, could be considered preslash
or simply friendshipy, depending on how you look at it.
Rating: PG
Word count: 1872
Author's note: Yuri Valentine, for Moontyger. Some minorish spoilers for FE9. Thanks to Jana for the lightning quick beta.
Jill had stumbled her way in after talking with commander Ike. He'd offered her a chance to avenge her father, and she hadn't taken him up on it. It all seemed so hollow, depriving yet another person of a sibling, a commander, a friend.
She'd skipped mess afterwards and walked to her room without running into anyone else. Everything within her was blank and hollow, and no more tears came since talking to commander Ike. Jill could not have said how she got there, each step before her was as instinctual as a breath.
When she closed the door behind her, she simply stood in her small cell of a room. She'd had to share bunks in the smaller places, but camping out in Talrega had left them with shelter. Had she stayed in Daein, had she stayed by her father—
She would have died by his side, probably cursing the name of the laguz as she did. Except it wouldn't be laguz, she'd call them filthy sub-humans.
As she took off her armor, she remembered.
Jill had never heard her father curse the laguz or call them such names, not even when others suspected him of being a 'sub-human lover.' She remembered hearing a story of something that had happened when she was younger; a man who'd been caught with a female laguz, and the horrible things that happened to the lovers. Back then it had all seemed so right. Messing around with a creature like that deserved the punishment those two received, but she could remember quite clearly the sight of watching her father stare into the flames from where he was encamped, the smell of liquor about him.
Her father never drank except when he was very upset.
Now she wondered if it'd hurt him to see her like this. He'd been a Begnion man once, not like Crimea with their ideals which only the higher classes seemed to heed. He couldn't speak up when she had joined the sub-human hunts, but would he have, if he could? She didn't know, anymore. It seemed like her dreams had been picked up and discarded one by one. Her first dream was to be a high ranking army man, just like her father.
Later on, when her dream was no longer based on Daein, or keeping the sub-human scum in place, she'd started another dream to keep her warm at night. One where she'd go home and Daein wouldn't be in tatters, Ashnard would have imploded, and her father, Haar and the rest of the battalion would be safe. Then she'd be able to tell him all about the people she'd bonded with. Mist, commander Ike's kind, bright sister, and Lethe, the fierce and prickly laguz woman who'd taught her so much. She'd learned the word laguz from her, and now she barely ever slipped up and called them sub-humans.
She'd turned from a girl soldier to a woman under this ragtag band of soldiers, fighting for another country. And she'd never had the chance to tell her father this. She'd never got that last spar to show him just how different she was than the girl who left to go on a mission.
She stared down at her armor, filled with crests of a country that no longer wanted her. She wasn't sure she wanted it either. In truth, she wasn't sure what she wanted.
She heard a rap on the door and turned. She did not open it, did not reply as more knocking came. She couldn't take condolences, or seeing pity in her fellow fighters eyes. Not right now.
The door abruptly came open, the hinges making a terrible creaking sound, and a dent in the door from where Lethe had pushed it open. She changed from her beautiful amber feline form back into her other, more beorc looking form.
"Leeethe!" Mist admonished.
"When in doubt, use force," Lethe said, as if she were quoting some oft repeated adage.
Mist shook her head, but turned her attention on Jill.
"I heard the news," Mist said. "Are you okay?"
She'd been far away from the battlefield. Mist had been near the front, healing some of the refugees at the time.
Jill tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. Her father never let her wallow.
"I'll live," she said. Even if it felt like she wouldn't.
"We know you'll live, but that doesn't answer the question at all," Mist said.
Instead of waiting for Jill's reply, she came through the door and put her arms about Jill. She'd found out long ago that Mist gave the best hugs, and she gave them freely to anyone–whether they wanted them or not. Jill relaxed into her snug embrace.
"Lethe," she said, looking back to give her a meaningful glance.
"Laguz warriors do not cuddle," Lethe stated flatly.
"Well, there's a first time for everything," Mist said.
Lethe's tail twitched in agitation. She let out a faint hiss. Mist shrugged.
"She's prickly as ever," Mist said. Had anyone else but perhaps Ranulf said these words, she might have shown her just how prickly she could be. However, Lethe just twitched her tail again and closed the door behind her.
Mist had sought her out when no one else would, when she was still technically a Daein outsider, Mist came every day to make sure she wasn't lonely, or needing anything. She had an aggressive sort of kindness that refused to let up and simply let her stew over things. Jill had been the one to have the fascination with Lethe, but it didn't surprise her that Mist had some way wormed herself into the laguz woman's good graces. She just had that sort of effect on people.
Mist brushed her hand over Jill's cheek, just touching under her red-rimmed eyes.
"When my father died, I cried for days. I didn't even know what to do," Mist said. "But everyone was here, supporting me. My brother, Rolf, Boyd, Rhys… I don't know what I would've done without them. I can't think of a worse thing than going through this sort of pain alone."
Lethe had not spoken up, though something in her expression softened.
"Your father...he was a brave beorc," she said. And for once, it wasn't brave for a beorc.
"Yes," Jill said, her voice a hoarse whisper. "He was very brave."
Mist nodded sadly, her hands gripping at Jill's shoulders. For a moment they all were silent, as if giving that one last respect to the departed.
Then Mist gently squeezed Jill's arms.
"But you should be resting, or maybe taking a nice bath," she said.
"I probably smell a fright," Jill admitted. "But right now I just want to sleep."
And it was true. Weariness made her stoop down, feeling like just living was a burden which she couldn't handle right now. Mist rubbed her back in a soothing motion.
"It's the best thing you can do," Mist said. Mist only left to fluff up Jill's standard issue military cot, and try and make it as comfortable as possible. Jill didn't even bother taking off her leggings, or dressing down into some kind of sleep wear. She figured Mist could forgive her. Mist always could find a way to forgive her.
"For now," Lethe said. She did not look at them, but watched the door as if someone might break in at any moment. For her, maybe it was a concern. They were in Daein, after all, and the Daeins did not take kindly to the laguz, or the people who supported them. Being labeled a 'sub-human lover' might as well be the kiss of death.
Lethe cleared her throat. "When it happened, I focused on training and my desire for revenge, and to care for Lyre."
"Oh no...yours too?" Jill said.
"Yes. They were brave Gallian warriors and died honorably," Lethe said.
She said it brusquely, her expression as stony and cold as the walls about them. The words she hadn't said were so very telling to Jill. They must have died against beorc, a mob or a raiding party, or perhaps a hunt like in Daein.
"I'm so sorry," Mist said. She got up and before Lethe could pull back, Mist had her arms around Lethe. Lethe did not push her aside, not fully relaxing into her, either. But she allowed Mist the comfort of comforting her. Apparently, even if Gallian warriors didn't cuddle, they could tolerate being cuddled.
At least if it was Mist.
"It was a long time ago. With these wars, many children have lost their parents," Lethe said.
And brothers, sisters, lovers and just people. On both sides.
"We'll work hard to make sure this Ashnard creep is gone, then nobody else's parents will have to die," Mist said. She stood up and away from Lethe, a look of pure determination on her face.
Mist could be so idealistic, even naive at times. It only made Jill want to protect that naivete, so Mist could keep thinking the best of people. Jill was a soldier, and she knew that many more children would have to lose their fathers on the way towards Ashnard, and there was no guarantee that would be the end-all, that peace would spring up and stay.
But seeing Mist like that made her want to believe too, even as she felt empty in her grief. Jill laid back in bed, exhaustion sweeping over her.
Mist climbed up into bed, and somehow fit despite it being made for one.
"Mist?" She asked, as she felt Mist's arms go about her.
"You didn't think we'd leave you alone, would you? Lethe and I are staying. For good," Mist said.
Lethe made no move to come closer, but stayed at the door, their de facto guardian.
Jill closed her eyes. She'd cried herself out earlier, emptied herself out until there was nothing but dryness. Mist held her tight, Lethe watched over her. As she began to drift off, the final thoughts were of her father. She couldn't regret this, not leaving her homeland and finding the word laguz and the beauty behind it. She just wished she'd found a way to tell her father of this--the safeness and contentment she felt being here with these two girls.
The memories came by in quick flickers. There, her father holding her up when she was young, so sturdy. He'd been her whole world then, her hero and family, her teacher and guardian.
Jill remembered his smile, a comfort, a pain. She let out a long, shuddering breath. Mist hugged her a bit tighter.
"You know, I think he'd be proud of you," Mist said.
"Of course he would. You have turned into a brave and strong woman," Lethe added, a compliment that she hadn't expected.
Jill tried to form words, but they couldn't past the lump in her throat. They understood. They always knew how it make her feel better.
Series: FE9
Character/pairing: light Lethe/Mist/Jill, could be considered preslash
or simply friendshipy, depending on how you look at it.
Rating: PG
Word count: 1872
Author's note: Yuri Valentine, for Moontyger. Some minorish spoilers for FE9. Thanks to Jana for the lightning quick beta.
Jill had stumbled her way in after talking with commander Ike. He'd offered her a chance to avenge her father, and she hadn't taken him up on it. It all seemed so hollow, depriving yet another person of a sibling, a commander, a friend.
She'd skipped mess afterwards and walked to her room without running into anyone else. Everything within her was blank and hollow, and no more tears came since talking to commander Ike. Jill could not have said how she got there, each step before her was as instinctual as a breath.
When she closed the door behind her, she simply stood in her small cell of a room. She'd had to share bunks in the smaller places, but camping out in Talrega had left them with shelter. Had she stayed in Daein, had she stayed by her father—
She would have died by his side, probably cursing the name of the laguz as she did. Except it wouldn't be laguz, she'd call them filthy sub-humans.
As she took off her armor, she remembered.
Jill had never heard her father curse the laguz or call them such names, not even when others suspected him of being a 'sub-human lover.' She remembered hearing a story of something that had happened when she was younger; a man who'd been caught with a female laguz, and the horrible things that happened to the lovers. Back then it had all seemed so right. Messing around with a creature like that deserved the punishment those two received, but she could remember quite clearly the sight of watching her father stare into the flames from where he was encamped, the smell of liquor about him.
Her father never drank except when he was very upset.
Now she wondered if it'd hurt him to see her like this. He'd been a Begnion man once, not like Crimea with their ideals which only the higher classes seemed to heed. He couldn't speak up when she had joined the sub-human hunts, but would he have, if he could? She didn't know, anymore. It seemed like her dreams had been picked up and discarded one by one. Her first dream was to be a high ranking army man, just like her father.
Later on, when her dream was no longer based on Daein, or keeping the sub-human scum in place, she'd started another dream to keep her warm at night. One where she'd go home and Daein wouldn't be in tatters, Ashnard would have imploded, and her father, Haar and the rest of the battalion would be safe. Then she'd be able to tell him all about the people she'd bonded with. Mist, commander Ike's kind, bright sister, and Lethe, the fierce and prickly laguz woman who'd taught her so much. She'd learned the word laguz from her, and now she barely ever slipped up and called them sub-humans.
She'd turned from a girl soldier to a woman under this ragtag band of soldiers, fighting for another country. And she'd never had the chance to tell her father this. She'd never got that last spar to show him just how different she was than the girl who left to go on a mission.
She stared down at her armor, filled with crests of a country that no longer wanted her. She wasn't sure she wanted it either. In truth, she wasn't sure what she wanted.
She heard a rap on the door and turned. She did not open it, did not reply as more knocking came. She couldn't take condolences, or seeing pity in her fellow fighters eyes. Not right now.
The door abruptly came open, the hinges making a terrible creaking sound, and a dent in the door from where Lethe had pushed it open. She changed from her beautiful amber feline form back into her other, more beorc looking form.
"Leeethe!" Mist admonished.
"When in doubt, use force," Lethe said, as if she were quoting some oft repeated adage.
Mist shook her head, but turned her attention on Jill.
"I heard the news," Mist said. "Are you okay?"
She'd been far away from the battlefield. Mist had been near the front, healing some of the refugees at the time.
Jill tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. Her father never let her wallow.
"I'll live," she said. Even if it felt like she wouldn't.
"We know you'll live, but that doesn't answer the question at all," Mist said.
Instead of waiting for Jill's reply, she came through the door and put her arms about Jill. She'd found out long ago that Mist gave the best hugs, and she gave them freely to anyone–whether they wanted them or not. Jill relaxed into her snug embrace.
"Lethe," she said, looking back to give her a meaningful glance.
"Laguz warriors do not cuddle," Lethe stated flatly.
"Well, there's a first time for everything," Mist said.
Lethe's tail twitched in agitation. She let out a faint hiss. Mist shrugged.
"She's prickly as ever," Mist said. Had anyone else but perhaps Ranulf said these words, she might have shown her just how prickly she could be. However, Lethe just twitched her tail again and closed the door behind her.
Mist had sought her out when no one else would, when she was still technically a Daein outsider, Mist came every day to make sure she wasn't lonely, or needing anything. She had an aggressive sort of kindness that refused to let up and simply let her stew over things. Jill had been the one to have the fascination with Lethe, but it didn't surprise her that Mist had some way wormed herself into the laguz woman's good graces. She just had that sort of effect on people.
Mist brushed her hand over Jill's cheek, just touching under her red-rimmed eyes.
"When my father died, I cried for days. I didn't even know what to do," Mist said. "But everyone was here, supporting me. My brother, Rolf, Boyd, Rhys… I don't know what I would've done without them. I can't think of a worse thing than going through this sort of pain alone."
Lethe had not spoken up, though something in her expression softened.
"Your father...he was a brave beorc," she said. And for once, it wasn't brave for a beorc.
"Yes," Jill said, her voice a hoarse whisper. "He was very brave."
Mist nodded sadly, her hands gripping at Jill's shoulders. For a moment they all were silent, as if giving that one last respect to the departed.
Then Mist gently squeezed Jill's arms.
"But you should be resting, or maybe taking a nice bath," she said.
"I probably smell a fright," Jill admitted. "But right now I just want to sleep."
And it was true. Weariness made her stoop down, feeling like just living was a burden which she couldn't handle right now. Mist rubbed her back in a soothing motion.
"It's the best thing you can do," Mist said. Mist only left to fluff up Jill's standard issue military cot, and try and make it as comfortable as possible. Jill didn't even bother taking off her leggings, or dressing down into some kind of sleep wear. She figured Mist could forgive her. Mist always could find a way to forgive her.
"For now," Lethe said. She did not look at them, but watched the door as if someone might break in at any moment. For her, maybe it was a concern. They were in Daein, after all, and the Daeins did not take kindly to the laguz, or the people who supported them. Being labeled a 'sub-human lover' might as well be the kiss of death.
Lethe cleared her throat. "When it happened, I focused on training and my desire for revenge, and to care for Lyre."
"Oh no...yours too?" Jill said.
"Yes. They were brave Gallian warriors and died honorably," Lethe said.
She said it brusquely, her expression as stony and cold as the walls about them. The words she hadn't said were so very telling to Jill. They must have died against beorc, a mob or a raiding party, or perhaps a hunt like in Daein.
"I'm so sorry," Mist said. She got up and before Lethe could pull back, Mist had her arms around Lethe. Lethe did not push her aside, not fully relaxing into her, either. But she allowed Mist the comfort of comforting her. Apparently, even if Gallian warriors didn't cuddle, they could tolerate being cuddled.
At least if it was Mist.
"It was a long time ago. With these wars, many children have lost their parents," Lethe said.
And brothers, sisters, lovers and just people. On both sides.
"We'll work hard to make sure this Ashnard creep is gone, then nobody else's parents will have to die," Mist said. She stood up and away from Lethe, a look of pure determination on her face.
Mist could be so idealistic, even naive at times. It only made Jill want to protect that naivete, so Mist could keep thinking the best of people. Jill was a soldier, and she knew that many more children would have to lose their fathers on the way towards Ashnard, and there was no guarantee that would be the end-all, that peace would spring up and stay.
But seeing Mist like that made her want to believe too, even as she felt empty in her grief. Jill laid back in bed, exhaustion sweeping over her.
Mist climbed up into bed, and somehow fit despite it being made for one.
"Mist?" She asked, as she felt Mist's arms go about her.
"You didn't think we'd leave you alone, would you? Lethe and I are staying. For good," Mist said.
Lethe made no move to come closer, but stayed at the door, their de facto guardian.
Jill closed her eyes. She'd cried herself out earlier, emptied herself out until there was nothing but dryness. Mist held her tight, Lethe watched over her. As she began to drift off, the final thoughts were of her father. She couldn't regret this, not leaving her homeland and finding the word laguz and the beauty behind it. She just wished she'd found a way to tell her father of this--the safeness and contentment she felt being here with these two girls.
The memories came by in quick flickers. There, her father holding her up when she was young, so sturdy. He'd been her whole world then, her hero and family, her teacher and guardian.
Jill remembered his smile, a comfort, a pain. She let out a long, shuddering breath. Mist hugged her a bit tighter.
"You know, I think he'd be proud of you," Mist said.
"Of course he would. You have turned into a brave and strong woman," Lethe added, a compliment that she hadn't expected.
Jill tried to form words, but they couldn't past the lump in her throat. They understood. They always knew how it make her feel better.
no subject
Date: 2012-05-15 12:46 am (UTC)THIS HAS BEEN AWESOME FIC BY FRIENDS DAY.
no subject
Date: 2012-05-15 01:15 am (UTC)