Fandom - Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance
Pairing - Ike x Reyson
Warnings - PG 13
Summary - "What's another twenty years?"
Notes - backlogging really
Bare with me
He bared it for you, the little heron standing on the edge, waiting for the plunge, the fall that is to come. But then, you always forgot that herons could fly. So you stood there with him, waiting for the fall that never came, the break that never occurred and you realized how easy it was to forget and how much harder it was to remember.
Laguz took longer to age. Twenty years had passed and he looked the same. Another twenty and he was still the glowing picture of beauty he remembered from before. He was the same; he still kissed your fingers gently like a prince should, he still traced the old scar on your shoulder, still breathed on your face when you slept and still called you with that same indifference from before.
Twenty year, twenty years and twenty more stones on your back. You were getting old and you knew you were waiting but you didn’t know what you were waiting for. So you waited anyway, against your better judgement. No one was coming, no one was coming, but you waited.
What’s another twenty years?
You remembered one painful empty night he bared it to you. He slid off his long white cloak (soft, gently, it slid off like clouds from the sky) and it fell to the ground loudly. The silence was the air around them, thrumming, beating every note of the painful dark that surrounded them. Then he took your face in his hands and the rest was the history on your back.
Twenty years, twenty years, twenty years more. But you lost count along the way.
Bare with me, he said and you knew instinctively what he meant. Slowly, chunks of armour fell apart like the crumbling of the world. They lay on the ground, an unorganized heap of metal and bronze. You touched his shoulder (your hands were shaking) and you went lower. You’ve never been scared before, not even when you were in the presence of your father’s killer, but this wasn’t fear. His hands ghosted over your hair, your face, your chest, your thighs, your legs, your toes. It wasn’t anticipation that set you apart, but the curiosity of what is to come. You let him caress you, lead you, play with you. But he didn’t caresses, didn’t lead, didn’t play. He simply touched (that ache that lay between his fingers drew you out) and you didn’t move.
He can’t remember if it went further than that.
Somewhere in your lifeline, you approached him for the last time. You couldn’t make trips back and forth Begnion anymore. Your legs couldn’t take the effort. So despite all your waiting, nothing happened. You should feel disappointed, but you don’t care anymore.
So you told him, “This is the last time,” and patiently waited.
Again, he didn’t know what he was waiting for.
He stood there as if unsure what you meant. Maybe he didn’t. The passage of time is a cruel one. But really, you didn’t want to wait anymore. Your legs hurt and your soul was tired. So you turned around.
And you left.
Twenty years, twenty years, twenty years more.
Yet, all years were laid bare by that one starless night when Reyson said, “Bare with me.”
And you did.