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Eirika’s fingers ghost over the massive wound on Seth’s back, the otherwise flawless skin gaping from shoulder to side, pulling apart with every minute shift. Seth, ever strong and stoic, hasn’t made a sound since she unclasped his coat and pulled his undershirt over his head. Eirika takes a shaky breath.
“It doesn’t look terrible,” she lies.
“It doesn’t feel terrible,” he lies back.
They’re often dishonest with one another, with Eirika desperate to live up to her role as princess and Seth’s devotion to his oath, but this feels different. Eirika’s stomach twists in a sick frenzy. She’s not like Ephraim, she’s never seen true combat or pain or blood. She swallows and takes a piece of fabric torn from Seth’s undershirt dipped in boiled, unfiltered river water and, as gently as she can, tries to clean the wound.
Seth hisses. She can’t imagine how much pain he’s in.
“I’m sorry, my lady,” he says as the fabric drags along his back, “You shouldn’t be forced to do this.”
“I’m not letting your wound fester.”
His shoulders raise with a deep breath and he grimaces. “...Thank you.”
Eirika doesn’t respond. The reality of their situation sinks in with every swipe. The hair at the nape of his neck is plastered with sweat, his jaw flexed from gritting his teeth, his fingertips dug into the leg of his pants.
“We will likely need to part ways in Frelia,” Seth says. “This wound will require extensive healing. King Hayden will have soldiers he can spare for your protection.”
The thought of separating hits Eirika, a knife sliding through her ribs. “No,” she says, voice firm. “I’ll wait for you.”
“It’s a kind thought, my lady, but we don’t know the situation yet. You should prepare for the possibility.”
She won’t.
“King Hayden may recommend I retire, pending King Fado’s decision,” he continues. “It… may be the best choice. You would be in better hands with another knight until I recover.”
Her father’s safety is in jeopardy, and her brother’s status is unknown. Stepping forward without Seth, the last pillar in her life, is out of the question.
“We’ll pretend to be in love,” Eirika decides. King Hayden may urge Eirika’s knight to retire, but he wouldn’t force Eirika to be apart from the one she loves.
“That’s hardly appropriate, my lady,” Seth says, staring straight ahead.
“I’m not losing anyone else.”
Her words are weak and pleading. Her hand hesitates — she has limited first aid training, and the thought that she might be making his injury worse by overworking it presses in. It’s her fault if they’re separated; it’s her fault if he dies. She’s weak. Unprepared. Undertrained. She puts the rag down and wishes she could rest her forehead against his shoulder to feel his warmth, his life.
Seth uses his teeth to tear what’s left of his bloodied undershirt into strips for makeshift bandages and sighs. “It won’t work,” he says, voice tight.
Eirika takes the strips and begins the gruesome process of tying them around his chest to tighten his skin together.
“I don’t care. I want to try.”
It works.
“How’d you do it?” Tana whispers to her on the journey between Frelia and Grado. “I mean, he’s so… uptight. I didn’t think — you know.”
Eirika hesitates. They hadn’t discussed a backstory. “It just happened.” They can figure it out later.
“When?”
Tana’s eyes, big and curious, don’t hold any suspicion for Eirika’s lies. Her heart sits heavy in her chest; keeping secrets from an old friend feels like a crushing weight in her ribcage, threatening to bite in and leave her weak and bleeding.
“After we left Renais.” She’ll stay as close to the truth as possible. “We —”
Tana cuts her off with a playful smack to the arm and points to the right. “There he is!”
There he is, indeed. Seth, standing straight, taking purposeful strides alongside his horse. His movements are stiff; he won’t tell her directly, but they weren’t able to fully heal the wound. Maybe with more time. Maybe, if she hadn’t been so stubborn, he would’ve gotten the rest and healing he needed in Frelia.
“Go talk to him,” Tana insists. Eirika gives her a look that Tana must interpret as anxiety, because she nods with a grin that takes up her entire face and gently pushes Eirika. Eirika stumbles, barely staying upright before Seth steadies her with a firm hand on each of her shoulders several steps away.
“Be careful, my lady,” he says. “I’m sure Moulder could heal you if you fell, but we shouldn’t waste precious resources.”
Seth’s right — she’s still inadequate, barely able to walk on her two feet.
“Tana asked how we got together,” she changes the subject. “We should decide on a story.”
Seth frowns. They’re not so far away from King Hayden’s castle that Moulder and Vanessa won’t escort him back if they think they need to.
“Did you have anything in mind?” he asks.
“I told her it started after we left Renais, but nothing else.”
Seth’s lips tighten. He’s insightful, she can trust that if anyone would see through them, Seth would know how to soothe their suspicions. He’s skilled at both thinking on his feet and planning ahead.
“It would be wise to keep it simple,” he says. “Our journey between Renais and Frelia was…” a pained look crosses his face. “...Fraught.”
“We wouldn’t have had time for a big romance,” Eirika confirms.
“Correct.”
He leaves space for her to weave a tale.
“Maybe I was crying.” Ephraim often teases (teased? She doesn’t want to consider it.) her for being a child, scared of the dark and of being alone. “I sought out comfort.”
She’d comforted Seth that night, allowed him to rest his forehead on her shoulder deep in the woods where nobody would find them, stroked his hair until dawn because he needed the rest far more than she did, his breathing aligned itself with the consistent, rhythmic touch in his sleep. But nobody would believe the truth. Nobody would believe she kept her tears to herself.
“That’s… acceptable.” He doesn’t like it, but what else can they say? “I suppose we wouldn’t remember the details, ourselves.”
“Okay,” Eirika says with a nod. “I’m glad we have a story.”
She glances back at Tana. Tana, now walking next to Vanessa, gestures for Eirika to take his hand. Eirika quickly looks ahead of her, face burning. She settles her hand in the space between Seth’s pauldron and his gauntlet.
“Hellooooooo!” Tana waves to Eirika. “I have something for you!”
Eirika perks up. Watching Seth start the fire has been soothing, but a surprise is a nice change of pace. “Really? What is it?”
“Follow me!” Tana says. “You too, Seth. It’s for both of you.”
Dread. Eirika looks at Seth. Seth looks at Eirika.
“I think we have to,” Eirika says.
“Yes,” Seth says, “I think you’re right.”
As they follow Tana, Eirika notices something peculiar: they seem to be one tent short, despite having packed more than enough for each of them. They find Tana standing in front of a single tent.
“I hid the extras,” she tells them.
“Y — you what?”
“They’ll make you sleep separately if they find them,” Tana says, checking around for eavesdropping allies. “But if we’re one short… well, it makes sense for the couple to share, don’t you think?”
It would make more sense for Eirika and Tana to share.
“Princess Tana,” Seth says, “It wouldn’t be appropriate —”
“Too bad.” Tana grins at her with a wink and rushes away. Eirika wonders why she’s bothering to lie to everybody after they already left Frelia if it’s going to put her in this position.
“Um,” Eirika says. “After you..?”
Seth gives her a look, stern yet concerned, and gestures for her to enter first.
Tana was considerate, Eirika can admit to herself upon entering through the flap. She considered many things: proximity, comfort, atmosphere, and privacy. The tent itself was barely big enough for the bedroll, a set of low magic lights, and a place to put their armor. Eirika has to crawl in on all fours and sits at the edge of the bedroll.
“This is rather tight,” she observes.
Seth frowns. The walls of the tent are completely opaque, and the door will tie shut with no gaps. The perfect place for two lovebirds to rest together.
“I’ll find where Tana hid the extras,” Seth says, reaching for the flap.
Eirika grabs his wrist. “No!” she says, a little too loud. “No.” she softens her voice. “This is — this is good. This is a good idea.”
Seth’s heat is reassuring and his strength a safety. She’s not ready to be alone yet.
“My lady, even if we were truly in a relationship, this wouldn’t be proper.”
“But we’re not,” Eirika says, “So there’s no risk of any um, untoward activities, right?”
Seth’s face is uneasy, his eyes shifting from hers, down, then to the side. “Sometimes you’re far too trusting.”
“If I can’t trust you, then who can I trust?”
Maybe she’s trying to convince him to stay. Maybe she’s trying to convince herself it’s okay. Tana’s disappointed, knowing face hovers at the edge of her vision, her efforts gone to waste on a lie. The cold air of a night alone haunts the back of her neck.
“I suppose it might be safer this way.” He’s lying. She knows he’s lying. “I’ll sleep between you and the entrance.”
“I’ll sleep safer that way.” It’s the truth.
The bedroll isn’t big enough for both of them. Tana knows what she’s doing — the tent isn’t big enough for two people, let alone two beds, and they won’t fit comfortably without leaning against one another.
“Is this okay?” Eirika asks, body tense, head resting on Seth’s less injured shoulder.
“I suppose.”
They’re both stiff, conscious of where the other lays and where their legs and hips touch.
“I’m glad you were able to stay by my side,” Eirika says. “I’m sorry it’s gotten out of control.”
Voice tight and words short, Seth says, “I feel the same.”
Another evening, tents erected and dinner cooking over a fire, Eirika overhears a conversation.
“I’ve started to notice some of the women are getting,” Amelia stops to consider her words as Neimi leans in closer. “Friendly with the men.”
They both glance at Seth and Eirika and quickly look away when they’re caught. With eyes on them, however brief, Eirika takes Seth’s arm in both her hands and presses herself against him. He’s stiff, still not used to her touch.
“I’m starting to think it’s something else entirely,” Amelia continues, voice lower but still clear.
Eirika swallows her nerves. “It seems word hasn’t gotten around to everybody.”
“I suppose not,” Seth says, eyeing the pair before focusing his gaze on Eirika, lips pressed together. “It doesn’t need to.”
“Yes it does.” The words spill out of her before she has time to think. A confession.
He frowns and Eirika can’t help but follow the movement. “If you insist,” he says, and she savors every curve in his lips. “How do you suppose..?”
She doesn’t need to consider her options. She knows, on instinct, the best step forward. She places her hands on his chest, timid but growing in confidence. She tilts her head up to look at him. Neimi and Amelia are hushed.
“We could, um,” Eirika takes a breath, “Kiss?”
Seth’s face goes deep red. “My lady —”
“It would be very convincing.”
“We’ve never —”
Eirika pushes herself up on her toes and presses their lips together, not a chaste peck but something deeper, something shared between two people who truly want one another, something she’s read about in books. Seth is stiff, unsure, and when she pulls away she doesn’t get a chance to look at his face before he pulls her into his neck.
“We don’t need to continue the charade,” Seth whispers, his voice blowing gentle breezes across her cheek. “I’ve healed, nobody will pressure me to retire.”
“You’re not healed,” Eirika whispers back.
A pause. “It’s true,” he admits, voice reluctant but yielding. “But my point stands.”
Something pulls in Eirika’s chest. Disappointment? When did she become so reliant on their closeness?
“It’s not time yet,” she lies.
The space between her words and his stretch on, opaque until they’re pulled enough to become transparent, slowly ripping holes until it snaps.
Seth sighs. “Very well.” His hands grip her just a little tighter.
Ephraim finds out immediately.
“I leave you alone for two seconds,” he bemoans.
“Who would you rather I fall in love with?” The word love rips out of her throat, a secret she can’t share with Seth, but an admission to her brother. “Moulder?”
“What if he’s using you?”
“I’m not a child, Ephraim!”
The words come out louder than she anticipates. Ephraim hasn’t seen her fight for her life and the lives of those around her, he hasn’t seen her forced to strike down another human being on the battlefield. To him she’s the same timid girl he rarely sees between his adventures.
Ephraim sighs. “You’ve grown quite the backbone since I’ve been gone.”
“I’ve been through a lot.”
“I suppose you have.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just — are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Normally she can’t lie to Ephraim; he sees through her, having known her their entire lives. Maybe she isn’t lying anymore, or maybe she’s truly changed since they last saw one another.
“I won’t argue with you,” Ephraim says, “And… Seth’s a good guy, I suppose.”
“Thanks,” Eirika says with a sarcastic tilt to her voice, “I appreciate your blessing.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Ephraim waves her away. “Don’t make me give it again.”
She looks back at Seth, conversing with a smiling Franz. Maybe it’s time to stop lying to herself.
Ephraim rolls his eyes when they reunite in Grado, Eirika and Seth standing side-by-side.
Eirika looks over the aftermath of Grado’s devastating landslide, burying countless villages and parts of the capitol. A whole mountain just… gone. Homes gone. Lives gone.
She thought she’d grown numb to this, but if she was truthful with herself, every life she took weighed heavy on her soul. Most of the people they faced in war chose to be there, knowing the risks. But they shouldn’t have died.
Here, though, these people didn’t choose this. People living their lives, growing crops and playing with dogs and children, spinning wool and weaving rugs with old rags. War is pointed and cruel. This disaster is random and catastrophic.
That night, body screaming in fatigue, Eirika takes a guest room in Castle Grado and collapses onto the bed. The dusty, neglected linens don’t matter. Her dirty clothes don’t matter. She dozes off on top of the blankets.
“My lady?”
Eirika barely hears Seth’s voice through the fog of sleep. She’s already drifting away again when her body’s jostled, strong arms making their way under her shoulders and her knees dangling off the bed. Seth lifts her, his chest secure in its familiarity, and arranges her body with her head atop a pillow and the blankets embracing her.
She wraps her arms around her neck. Sleepy, unrestrained, she says, “Stay.”
Seth doesn’t protest. He climbs into the bed beside her without removing her arms, trying to stay on top of the blankets before she rips them out from under him and throws them over his body. He yields to her stubbornness and allows her to press herself into his chest and neck, a leg shoved between his knees.
When she wakes up again the sun is high in the sky, the lights shining glowing squares on the rugs near the walls, and Seth is still there, eyes closed, breathing deep and even, an arm draped over her waist.
They could stay like this forever.
“Seth?” she says.
“Hm?” His voice rumbles softly through his throat.
“I don’t want this to end.”
Seth takes a deep breath — in, and out. “I’m not befitting of your station.”
“But you don’t want it to end, either.”
They’re often dishonest with one another, sure, but when pressed, they never lie. When one asks for honesty, the other gives it to them. An unspoken agreement.
“No,” he admits, “I don’t.”
“Then we shouldn’t.” Eirika presses back from Seth and props herself up on her elbows, taking in his soft expression, his concerned consideration. “Let’s just — just pretend this was never fake. I don’t think it was ever fake.”
The way Seth looks at her is piercing, like he can see through her deception and false confidence, like he’s not finding any.
“It’ll be a difficult road,” he says.
“I can walk it, if it’s with you.”
Finally, after what could be an eternity, his gaze softens and the hand on her waist pulls her into him. He kisses her forehead and her cheek. His other hand holds her head in place, his nails gently run over her scalp. Under the covers they press together in their dirty clothes from the day before.
“Okay,” he says, lips making small movements against her cheek, “We can walk that road together.”