#OracleQuill's Queue

[oraclequill]

Commission - To Not Be Lost; Robin/Tiki

For @knightlysong, who commissioned me with the request of something with Robin/Tiki. Its set right around after Paralogue 17 in Fire Emblem Awakening.

A sea of black waves rolls around him, bringing him deeper into the chasm below. Robin stares up, letting his neck lift, to where the surface is. His arms are too heavy to lift and push himself over and break above the cold, churning water.

Opening his mouth in the attempt to call for help, the deluge invades his lungs, and further he comes to sink. The silence is made to tremble when a noise flows in with the water. Robin lets his eyes widen as they began to lull shut, trying to hear the sound better.

More noises come in, matching in strength of the waves around him. The calls disturb the water that now froths and bubbles from far below. Robin feels his body sink faster when something works to keep him pulled under.

The noise, he understands, are voices that echo into the deep. Each becomes louder and more fervent in their demand of him. Their urging fuels him to fight against what holds him back and away from returning to them.

As he struggles and the water trembles more, a person’s voice calls out. The sound rings from a smoked figure, basked in solid light. The ends of the figure’s fingers reach for him and Robin drifts his hand to touch and take the help that is offered.

–

Robin shifts on his bed cot, opening his tired eyes slowly. He stares at the tarp and lulls his neck to look at the inside of his tent and his senses begin to soak in his surroundings; the sight of the things he owns.

The sounds of the insects that buzz and flutter across the Divine Dragon Grounds. The roar of the ocean and how the water lunges and slams against the cliffs. The dull drift of salt spray that descends on the ground from the waves, which are but a few short miles away.

A feeling of unease comes to rest in his stomach and Robin shudders. His shirt vest and long hood are beside his place of rest. Robin pulls his shirt above his head, fitting it properly to his chest and he hesitates in taking the jacket.

His fingers lift up the sleeve, tracing the pattern in the fabric that, in recent weeks, has begun to glow and shine. Three of the six eyes on the coat’s arms have opened and no one has paid the change any mind at all.

His mind questions if it is only his eyes that are able to see the change. Bringing up his hand, Robin feels the skin heat over; a new eye in the Brand of the Defiled is working on joining the others in its opening.

He throws the sleeve back down, letting the cloth pile and stay in a heap on the ground. His nerves still clamoring, Robin walks out from the tent. The pitched camp is more lively than what he thought it’d be, given the hour.

He contemplates joining the Shepards who’ve gathered around the fire. The sound of grouped laughter and the sight of them sharing a cooked meal lightens his heart but he decides to step away from their line of sight before they notice his presence.

Robin lets his legs carry him to where they please and his thoughts trail onward. His thumb soothes over the surface of his branded palm, the pain tingling again in his hand. He then stops, seeing the soft glow from a ring of flowers that are just before his feet.

White with a yellow center, Robin comes down on one knee to pick one. As his fingers cradle the bloomed plant, it shrivels to his touch and wilts. His own voice whispers to him, “You are the Wings of Despair and will breathe Ruin into this land… Why do you resist, Robin?”

“Robin?”

Robin feels the presence drift out from his mind at the sound of someone calling his name. He feels the red tinged fade from his eyes and Grima’s presence is no longer a weight on his mind. A touch brushes against his face and strokes away the cold sweat on his cheek.

“Tiki?” Robin whispers, swallowing past the lump in his throat when he sees her face sharpen into focus. “I’m sorry. I was lost in my thoughts. Did you need something?”

“The others said you returned to the Divine Grounds,” she said. “I sometimes come here as well to think,” Tiki then smiled. “And I thought it sweet of you to visit my mother’s garden one more time before we leave at daybreak.”

Robin blinked at that and he studied the rows of grass and rings of flowers, ‘No wonder why he sought to destroy this place…’ “Tiki, I need to tell you something… I heard Grima’s voice a moment ago.”

Tiki blanched at him, “You heard the Fell Dragon…when you were…” She swallowed. “here?”

“He is becoming stronger,” said Robin. “To be able to affect me when I’m here. At a place of blessing for divine dragons,” He gave his own swallow. “I am scared. Not just for myself, but for all of you.”

“You’re choosing to be wise in the knowledge that any harm could befall us over being arrogant that nothing will,” Tiki said, her voice gentle in its understanding. She touched at his face again, making his eyes meet hers. “Your fears are well founded, but you will overcome Grima with my being with you.”

Robin lowered his head, but not quickly enough to see the smile fall from Tiki’s face. His fingers looped around her wrists and he gently took her hands from his own cheeks.

“My fear is what overcomes me,” said Robin. “If I were anyone else, I would commit to being with you,” He shook his head. “I am to be the Fell Dragon’s host and you are Naga’s one, and only, daughter.”

“You are a fool,” said Tiki, taking her hands and placing them around his. “You are a strategist of Ylisse. Your name is Robin and you’re my dear friend and someone who I like very much.” She then smiled. “If the fell dragon wants you, then I will show him what it means to incur the wrath of the Divine Dragon’s daughter.”

Robin smiled, despite himself, as he raised his eyes to look into Tiki’s. Inside, he could see the old fear that made her eyes appear wet from unshed tears, “I will not lose someone else I have come love.”

Behind her, the moon began to steadily sink over the horizon and it eclipsed her in a dull glow of light. The shadow that overtook her made her eyes and skin glow as she met and held his gaze with a firm resolve.

“For the one I love,” Robin placed his head to rest against hers. “I swear to not be lost.”

“See that you do not upset my daughter, High Deliverer,” Naga’s voice said firmly. “Or the Fell Dragon will be the least of your worries.”

They both looked at each other in concern and then laughed. Robin smiled while Tiki continued to giggle, her cheeks reddening by the second. Having the opportunity, Robin stooped, picking a flower from the grass. He brushed a strand of her hair away from her long ear and placed the chosen flower to rest and stay near her head. Tiki’s smile came in full as she looked at him, and it was a sight that he would remember, til the end of their days.

[oraclequill]

Made Unbroken - Priam, Morgan/Cynthia

Read on AO3 A like, kudos or reblog is always appreciated! It’s that time of year again. Happy Birthday, Priam!

The Radiant Hero all but sprung out of his skin in looking from the equally stunned faces of his son and protégé, Cynthia, who stood in the Ylisse Castle library as if they'd not been missing for the last several weeks.

"Where the hell have you two been?" Priam demanded, looking first from Cynthia for an answer. Her fingers began twisting nervously at end of her pigtail, after her silence, whereupon Priam looked to Morgan.

"We..." Morgan started to say, looking to Cynthia who patted his back and gave him an encouraging nod. "We were on Valm, Dad..."

"For what?" Priam asked, raising his eyebrows, still looking between the two. "Morgan, I'm the last to coddle you. I know the both of you are great warriors, but even with the Fell Dragon gone?" Priam stared at his son who met his gaze still. "There are still the straggler packs of Risen, roaming across the country. They're violent and desperate to survive without his magic to keep them moving. Any-" Priam pressed the word. "-life they can manage to steal to sustain themselves? It'll do for them. It was dangerous that the two of you ran off without letting someone know." He then sighed. "Why did the two of you go out west?"

"Morgan read about this in a book," Cynthia piped up, standing with her shoulders straight and her head held high as she looked at Priam in his face. "I saw him sneaking out at night and followed him."

"Go on," Priam drawled, letting his palms bear his weight against the table edge.

"I wasn't sure it would work, but I had to try and see if there was any truth to it," Morgan gulped, now beginning to quail under his father's narrowing brow. "I know Ragnell breaking was my fault."

Priam gave a sharp sigh, letting his own head hang. He knew the guilt had been weighing on the poor boy.

It was in a fleeting moment that, in shielding the two before him, and letting Ragnell cut down one of the more titanic Risen, causing it to scream in a final call before the corpse exploded. Things were still a blur to him from that battle, the distorted voices, screams and cries of his name. The worst sound of all had been the dull clatter of metal that dropped at Priam's side. In his hand, held in a shaking fist, was Ragnell's hilt and the blade. The middle half of it appeared charred gray and warped as it smoked from the blast. Coming to stand, now seeing the shape at his feet, was the other half end of Ragnell, just as smeared gray and the once great sword had been violently shattered.

"Listen to me," said Priam, giving another sigh and letting his voice be firm and clear. "It was no one's fault. Do you understand? I knew--I was told, even--that the sword's time would be coming to an end, sooner or later," He continued, smiling gently at his son. "The sword was meant to protect the bearer's loved ones. Even though it came to pass in its loss? She served a final purp--"

"Dad. I fixed Ragnell."

Those words were enough to cut Priam short, his brow rising again before it knit close as he looked hard at Morgan. The young tactician waved his hand, wordlessly asking for a moment as he left. Cynthia reached into the carrying pouch on her hip, bringing out a small book that she placed in Priam's hands. Toward the book's end, was a dividing leather slip Cynthia had used to keep the spot for easy finding.

Opening it, Priam began to read what little passages were on the pages, but full illustrations were done across the paper. A large, full blooming tree gave him reason to frown again. The same tree was large enough that it could be seen anywhere on Valm. Even on the Garden of Giants, the tree's silhouette cast a shape on the far horizon. "It's an old story," said Cynthia. "about Valm's first King and Queen of their united empire. The King penned the Queen's words to memory; 'They say that where divine dragons sleep, sacred trees take root and grow. The kingsfang was blessed, made new from dew.'"

Priam could now only stare at the book, his heart beating at the drawn illustration of the inked tree. The whorls and spirals made up the tree's trunk. It may have been a choice of the artist's rendition, but the shape of a sleeping dragon could be seen coiling in the drawn bark. He shut the book and returned it to Cynthia, who placed it back in her pouch.

Morgan's footsteps announced his return, and in his arms was a cloth wrapped Ragnell. Priam watched his son place the bundled sword on the table surface. Opening the bindings, Morgan pulled off the sheet piece. Priam let his mouth fall open, seeing the restored sword glint by the nearby firelight. The blade lacked the cracks Priam had grown used to it having over the course of his life. Even with every attempt he made in trying to care for the weapon, regular tools neither dented nor repaired it.

Bringing his fingers around the hilt, Priam squeezed his hold tight and then lifted the sword up. Ragnell gave an audible hum, the blade's light briefly flashing blue as a wordless message to her master. Setting the weapon back on the table, Priam turned to both of the children. He embraced them, speaking his thanks in a shaking voice.

Cynthia gave a watery laugh, sniffing and wiping at her eyes. Morgan breathed in relief, returning his father's hug and managing to smile. Clapping them both on the shoulder, Priam nudged the children to take the lead.

"Let's go show your mother," Priam said to Morgan.

"Ooh, I hope Robin won't be too mad at us..." Cynthia winced, looking hopefully at Priam. "Um..."

"She might be more happy that the two of you ended up safe and sound," said Priam, wanting to calm Cynthia's worries. He took up Ragnell and returned it to the empty sheath on his back. "C'mon."

Cynthia then cheered, almost fumbling on her feet before she went speeding ahead of them. Priam laughed, watching the young pegasus knight go. Morgan watched his Father follow after Cynthia and gave a sigh of relief. Reaching to the sword at his own hip, Morgan drew his own Ragnell. The breaks in it were more distinct and it still appeared to be showing its age.

"'Protecting our loved ones,' huh?" Morgan repeated, looking at his reflection in the cracked sword.

Ragnell briefly shined blue and the sword hummed in his hands.

"Morgan?" Priam's voice called to him.

"Coming, father!" Morgan called back, returning the weapon to his hip, a smile on his face.