Work Text:
“I can do this. I can do this.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling you for days,” Sharena grumbled. “You can do this, Alfonse. It’s not hard. So do it already.”
“I can do this,” Alfonse repeated to himself, pacing a tight circle around Sharena’s room. “I’ll walk up to him, hand him a bouquet, and then—gah, I can’t do this.” Slumping to the floor, he hid his face in his hands. “Listen to me, I don’t know what I’m doing. Bouquet first? What kind of idiot gives out the bouquet first? He’ll think I’m mad!”
“No,” Sharena drawled, “he’ll think it’s sweet. You’re overthinking this. Again. The Day of Devotion is tomorrow, brother. If you don’t ask him today, you never will.”
“Maybe that’s for the best. I’m being ridiculous. This is beyond silly and foolish.”
She slapped her forehead. “I have had it with your moping! A week, Alfonse! Every single day for an entire week, you have done the same exact thing! ‘Oh Sharena, sister whom I adore, I don’t know what to do! However shall I confess my love?’”
“It’s not love,” he was quick to correct. “I simply want to ask him to be my beloved for the day.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say. Look, for six days straight you have chickened out of asking him. Are you a chicken, Alfonse?”
“I…”
Plopping down on her knees, she pressed his cheeks together and shook his face. “You aren’t Fae, so stop acting like a chicken!”
“Sto’f thas.” Slapping her hands away from his face, he turned his back on her. Of course his eyes just had to fall upon the bouquet. It was the seventh bouquet he’d made with the intent of gifting to Kiran. “I’m not a coward. I’m being logical. Kiran must be drowning in flowers from all the other heroes.”
“That’s not what I hear.”
His neck cracked with how fast he turned to her. “What have you heard?”
Smirking, she patted his head like he was the younger sibling. “What I heard is that Kiran has turned down every single bouquet.” Her despairing news was paired with a wide grin as she poked his cheek. “Almost like,” cheek poke, “Kiran is,” cheek poke, “waiting for a special someoooone,” double cheek poke, “to give him a bouquet!”
“Enough.” Rising to his feet, he hovered above the bundle of flowers. “This is stupid.”
“No, you’re stupid.”
Ignoring his sister, he continued. “Kiran doesn’t want anyone to bother him, that is clear.”
Sharena released an obnoxiously loud groan. “He’s waiting for you to ask him! YOU! So go do it already!”
He shook his head and collected the bouquet, intent on throwing it out. “You’re being ridiculous. Why would Kiran ever want me? He could have a real king, like Marth, or Alm, or Chrom, or—”
“Alfonse,” Sharena said from just behind his shoulder, her voice far too sweet to mean anything good, “Kiran doesn’t want a king to accompany him to the Day of Devotion.”
“Yes, of course. It’s foolish of me to assume he wants a man at all… There are many lovely woman who—”
“Alfonse.” Her hand squeezed his shoulders. “Remember last year?”
His cheeks warmed at the memory. “Not… my best idea, I’ll admit.” The Day of Devotion outfit seemed like a good idea at the time, but in hindsight the leggings (or lack thereof) had been embarrassingly revealing.
“On the contrary! Kiran couldn’t look away from you. Why, he was obsessed with deploying you in that outfit!”
“Sharena, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. I know you mean well. The truth of the matter is that Kiran needed my skills in that niche at the time, nothing more.”
Before he could toss the bouquet in the garbage, along with the other six wilted bundles of flowers from days prior, Sharena stayed his hand. “Brother, it has been four years.”
“Indeed. I truly must get over this… ridiculous infatuation.”
“No! What I’m saying is that you need to get over yourself and just tell him! I’m sick of watching you pine.”
“I can’t. Even if he returned my feelings — and that is a big if! — we could never work out.” Peering out past the window, past the horizon, his thoughts drifted to the mysterious world Kiran came from. Some day, the war in Askr would be over. When that day came, Kiran would return to his home. It was inevitable. Even if Kiran did feel the same way about him, that was a recipe for heartbreak.
“Just ask him.” Sharena’s soft voice broke him from his reverie. “This is eating you up inside and I can’t stand to watch it any longer. You have fought Embla, Múspell, and even death herself, Alfonse! How is it that asking Kiran to be your beloved for a day is so difficult?” She heaved a sigh. “Listen, if you throw that bouquet away, I will make you regret it. I could slip him a love letter and say it’s from you…”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“You’re driving me to extremes!” Her fingers curled around his hand, pushing the bouquet against his chest and shoving him towards the door. “If you don’t ask today, I will make you regret it. I swear upon my honor as your sister! I will tell mother.”
He inhaled sharply. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Dare I would! Unless you want mom knowing about your massive crush, you will march your cowardly butt over to Kiran’s quarters this instant and give him those flowers!”
He gave her no satisfaction, twisting on his heels and heading in the opposite direction. Which was worse? He could risk souring his friendship with Kiran, or enduring his mother’s insistence on the importance of love and following his heart.
He zoned out, allowing his feet to take him where they would. Heroes of all kinds passed him by, many together in pairs. Peony wore Triandra’s purple rose in her hair, just as Triandra wore Peony’s orange blossom. Princess Veronica had arrived in Askr a day early, already wearing her festive garb, wandering the halls just as aimlessly as him. Anna was selling pre-made bouquets, hugging a money-bag to her chest. Fjorm and Laegjarm walked arm-in-arm, hair decorated with each other’s red and blue flowers. It made him wonder how the pair could bear to be together, given Fjorm was slated to die from Nilf’s curse. How did Laegjarm justify growing so close to someone who would leave her soon?
He paused, quieting his steps. His mother sat against a window, already clothed in her festive garb. She didn’t notice him, too busy staring off at the sun’s slow dip. Against her chest she clutched a vase of flowers for his father. The Day of Devotion allowed Askr’s summoning magic to return his father to them for one day a year. Turning around, he didn’t want to think about that. Tomorrow, he would have a chance to reunite with his father for a brief window. That was for tomorrow. Today…
Drifting from place to place, his head refused to clear itself about what he should do.
“You can’t decide.”
The spine-chilling voice jarred him from his thoughts. His back straightened, the flowers clutched to his chest now silly and damning all in one. “Can’t decide what?” His voice trailed off as he swallowed the dry lump in his throat. This hero more than any other unnerved him.
Líf crossed his arms and leaned against the stone wall. “You will regret words left unsaid.”
Taking a step back, he crossed his arms — until it occurred to him that he and Líf stood in the same manner. Rolling his shoulders, he clasped his hands behind his back instead. “Don’t speak like you’re me.”
Líf nodded to the flowers in his arms. “Those are for Kiran. Don’t bother denying it.”
“And if they are?” Of course Líf knew.
“Throw them from the ramparts and be done with your nonsense.” Líf gestured to the door. “Be it through death or an end to Askr’s endless wars, Kiran will leave you eventually.”
“I know that,” he snapped back. “You know I know that. Why are you here?”
Líf’s eyes lingered on the door. “Perhaps I have grown a masochistic streak.” Silence fell between them. Shaking his head, Líf turned and left. “If you plan to squander your opportunity forever, do so out of my sight.”
He wasn’t ‘squandering’ his opportunity. There was no opportunity in the first place. Kiran couldn’t feel anything for him beyond friendship. But then, did Líf… know? Líf’s Kiran had died in the other timeline. Before all was lost, did Líf confess? Did he have an answer…? That didn’t matter though. Líf wasn’t him, and Líf’s Kiran wasn’t his Kiran. It was pointless to muse over the idea. Líf was right, he should dispose of the bouquet.
His resolve firm, he marched out the door that Líf had pointed towards, out onto the ramparts and into open air, intent on disposing of the damning flowers for good. As the door swung shut behind him, his feet froze in place. Blast Líf. It had been a trick all along.
Perhaps it was fate that guided him to Kiran. Sharena would call it a ‘red string of fate’ or some other nonsense. Out of everywhere Kiran could be, why here? Before he could back away, Kiran noticed him. Raising a hand, Kiran directed a small wave. If he backed away now, that would be beyond awkward.
“Kiran. Lovely evening,” he greeted, walking closer. A crest of sunlight glimmered off Kiran’s hair, catching his eyes just right, presenting the perfect picture of—No! This pointless daydreaming was half of his problem! There was no use in fantasizing about Kiran.
“Mm.” Nodding, Kiran returned to gazing at the sunset. Quiet as ever.
The silence was killing him, the weight of flowers damning. Despite that, he couldn’t help but relax in the presence of his friend. “It’s pretty,” Alfonse murmured, nodding towards the plains and woods of Askr spread out below them. “Beautiful.” Askr was, he was talking about Askr, not the man beside him. “Reminds me of everything we fight for.”
Kiran folded his arms and leaned forward, nodding. “It is.”
“Coin for your thought, my friend?”
Kiran’s eyes flickered from the land to the stone parapet. “This land is beautiful. It’s unlike anything I knew back home.” Home. The mere mention of Kiran’s home made Alfonse’s stomach twist, both with dread and guilt. “Yet despite the wonders here, the heroes, the people… I miss my home, at times. And yet I know if I return home, I would miss this place just as much.”
“‘If’?”
Kiran paused. “If I go home. When I go home. One or the other.” He raised his head to the sky. “I’ve been told I will return home when everything is over, but it has been four years. Some days, it feels like I’ll never see home.” Turning over his hand, Kiran revealed a sunflower. “Claude gave this to me. ‘From one outsider to another,’ he said.” After twirling it for a moment, Kiran tossed the bloom over the ramparts. “He’s right. Four years, and I’m still an outsider in this place.”
“I had no idea you felt this way.” He’d thought he had helped Kiran feel more welcome all this time. Clearly his efforts amounted to little.
“It’s the way things are.” Kiran shrugged, eyes distant. “This world is so unlike my own. The differences are… indescribable.” The silence was stifling as Alfonse waited for Kiran to gather his thoughts. “I wish I could show my home to you, someday.”
“That would be impossible,” he reluctantly said.
“I know.” Their eyes met briefly. The sadness in Kiran’s eyes — did his reflect the same? Unable to look any longer, he turned back to the sunset. It was beautiful, though he preferred the beauty of Kiran’s eyes. “I wish I could take you with me.”
“And I wish you could stay, my friend,” he replied in a whisper, the sound stolen by the wind. Beside him, Kiran stiffened and stepped back. When had they gotten so close? Their shoulders had nearly been touching — a loss he felt keenly now. He stepped back as well, putting a professional distance between them.
“Who is that from?” Kiran asked, nodding to the bouquet in his hands.
“It’s…” not important. The lie stuck in his throat. “Well. It’s from me, though I have yet to give it. This is for you.” Before he could regret the action, he pressed the bouquet into Kiran’s hands. “To me, you’re just as important as family. I don’t consider you to be an outsider in the slightest. Askr isn’t home without you.”
Kiran glanced at the bouquet, then turned his head away. “Mm. Wouldn’t be Askr without you either. You’re a good friend, Alfonse. I wish… no, never mind.”
“What do you wish for?” To go home? To have another hero by your side?
“Things I cannot have. Things I have no right wishing for.”
A soft chuckle escaped him. “Apologies, I’m not laughing at you. That is merely a… familiar sentiment of mine. I should be grateful for what I have, to accept that not all things will go my way in life.” He gave in to temptation, glancing back at Kiran’s face. His best friend. As much as he yearned for more, he refused to ruin what he had. He could imagine no other by his side in the future, no other who could counsel him so perfectly, no other he could confide his deepest fears and insecurities.
“What do you wish for, then?” Kiran broke him from his thoughts.
“I asked you first.”
Kiran’s little smile made his heart squeeze painfully. “And I answered.”
“Not in any satisfying manner!”
“A… companion,” Kiran murmured. “I wish for a companion by my side.”
“Are we not companions?” He had thought…
“Not quite that kind of companion.” Fiddling with the petals of a flower, Kiran’s expression fell minutely.
“I also desire a… companion,” he admitted. “Someday I will rule this realm, and I will need a queen by my side. But that is far from what I want from myself.”
Kiran raised an eyebrow. “Your mother said she would be happy with whoever you chose to marry, regardless of gender.”
When did she say that?! He coughed into his fist to hide the red forming on his cheeks. “Why were you talking to my mother about who I will marry?”
Looking away, Kiran shrugged. “No reason. It simply came up.”
“I’m much rather a wise tactician by my side,” he said before his mouth caught up to his brain. “Just in general! I’m not saying I’d marry him — or that I wouldn’t! — just that I want him by my side! As a, as a companion!”
Kiran graced him with a small smile, instantly shutting off his higher brain functions. “You’re uncharacteristically flustered, my friend.”
Resting his face in his palm, he sighed. “Can you just forget about that?”
“Depends. Do you mean it?”
“As in… do I mean, could see you by my side, in place of a queen?” He scrubbed at his burning cheeks. “If it were possible, then, yes, I could see it. As a hypothetical only, of course. What need do I have for any other when you are by my side? Ah, but that isn’t fair to you.”
“I was referring to whether you wanted me by your side, though I won’t forget that you’d rather marry me than a queen,” Kiran replied with a snicker.
Oh no. Now he’d done it. “W-wait—!”
“I can see it too,” Kiran interrupted him, gazing off into the sunset with an achingly soft smile. “There’s no one I feel more comfortable around than you. You welcomed me into your home, your family. Not just because I am useful,” he traced Breidablik at his hip, “but because you’re my friend. More than a friend. I’ve never had anyone like you, Alfonse — not in Askr, and not back home either.”
He blinked rapidly as his mind struggled to catch up to what Kiran just said. “No one? Not any of the other heroes? Not your family or friends in your world?”
“No one.” Kiran turned to him. Kiran didn’t smile very often, and when he did, it was usually just a small upturn of the lips. It was so rare to see a free, genuine smile — so Alfonse felt justified in having the air knocked from his lungs as Kiran grinned widely at him. “Of course, I know I’m no one important beyond my ability to wield Breidablik. Certainly no one worthy of a prince’s attention. And yet, you give it nonetheless.”
“That’s not true in the slightest!” he snapped back. Who was telling Kiran that he wasn’t important?! “You’re
the
most important person here!”
Kiran raised an eyebrow. “More important than your sister and mother?”
“Er, they’re important in a different manner…” He shook his head. “Don’t listen to anyone who claims you aren’t important. You’re important to me, for what little my opinion matters.”
“I would argue it matters a great deal,” Kiran replied. “Far more than mine, for certain.”
“No, your opinion matters much more than mine. I’m just some prince, I’m nothing compared to the heroes from other worlds.” Fólkvangr hung heavy at his side. Compared to all the other heroes, he was nothing.
“Now that isn’t true. Out of all the heroes in Askr, you are the most important.”
“That’s merely because I will someday inherit a crown, nothing more. Myself, as a person, can’t compete.”
“I wasn’t talking about your inheritance. You could be a commoner for all I care. Back home, royalty is more or less defunct. Prince, commoner, all I care about is that you’re you.”
“That’s right, I remember you mentioning that. I’d love to hear more about your home! If not royalty, how are the people ruled?”
“There are a few different systems…” Before they could lose themselves in conversation, something light struck the back of his head. Whirling around, a pebble bounced on the stonework. Someone had thrown a pebble at his head.
“Sharena!” he bellowed. “Stop meddling in my love life!” Wherever she was, he was going to find her, and he was going to throw her from the ramparts!
“Your ‘love life’?”
The heat in his cheeks left in a woozy rush as the blood drained from his face. “Forget I said anything.”
“I’d love to hear more about your love life.”
“No, no you wouldn’t.”
“These flowers aren’t because you see me as ‘family’, are they.”
“I do see you as family.”
“And…?”
“And… maybe as a very close friend too.”
“And…?”
Did Kiran sound… nervous? Gathering his courage, he turned back to Kiran and found a face just as uncertain as he felt. “And… I was wondering if you might, possibly… desire to be my beloved for the festival tomorrow.”
Kiran was silent, eyes falling down to the flowers. “Me? You have the entire barracks to choose from. Why me?”
“You also have the entire barracks to choose from, but Sharena says you refuse everyone.”
Kiran nodded. “It’s… foolish, I know. There’s only one person I want to go with.”
“I understand. No need to spare my feelings. It changes nothing between us.”
“I’m not saying no, Alfonse.”
He sucked in a breath. “You… aren’t?”
“I’ll be your beloved tomorrow, if you will be mine.”
“Yes!” he shouted, closing the distance between them. “Absolutely!” Upon realizing he was now in Kiran’s space, he jolted backwards and cleared his throat. “I mean, I would like that, indeed.” Rubbing his neck, his smile fell as the joyous feelings in his gut sank. “But… someday, you’ll have to leave.”
“Probably,” Kiran agreed, uncharacteristically shy as he reached out a hand for Alfonse. “Could be a year from now. Could be… decades, you know.”
“You’re right.” Slowly, he took Kiran’s warm hand in his. How did holding a hand ignite such joy in him? He’d held Sharena’s hand when they were little, but this was impossibly different. “I suppose that’s life. Either of us could leave the other without warning.”
“True. We should make the best of our time, then.” Kiran shared a shaky smile, vulnerable in a way Alfonse had never seen from him. “If you’re willing…?”
Maybe someday, he would regret opening his heart. “Absolutely.” That day was not today, not when his heart was filled to the brim.
Líf left the scene. Though the empty spot where his heart once resided ached, he was glad he stayed. At least it only took one pebble. His past self was less stubborn than he had been.