Rath was always good at hiding what he really felt, but for once in his life, he found it difficult to stow away his feelings behind a mask of indifference. This is not to say that he did not succeed in it but merely to state that it was a daunting task.
Quite simply put, for the first time in his life, Rath was in love. It was not the close bond he held with his steed nor was it the desperate warmth of familial affection he had yearned for as a child. No, this was something quite entirely new to him, the pangs of which began over a year ago.
Rath could not call it love at first sight. He knew that no such thing existed, and he was not enamored with her when his eyes cast their first gaze on her slim figure. It was instinct almost to reach out and lend her his aid. After all, Lyn was a Sacaen woman, and as a man, it was his duty to help her in need. Even if it had been a Sacaen man, he would probably have rushed to his side…
…despite the fact that it was his fellow plainsmen that abandoned him and mocked him as he grew up in solitude.
At a closer view, Lyn was different from other Sacaens. Her body lacked the rough looks that befitted most women of Sacae. A purer shade pooled in her eyes, those beautiful, mirrors of determination. Her fortitude was one of the traits that Rath fell for. While the blood of Sacae was certainly in her and she had the strength within her, she was different from any Sacaen Rath had ever known. Slowly, his attention was drawn to her intelligence, her willpower, and her charitable heart.
But after seeing her again when he endured such a long separation, the murmurs in his heart awakened with a stronger force than before, and it was all the more painful as he watched her converse with the other men of the camp.
Her bickering with Hector, a powerful lord, often showed signs of tenderness towards him. Hector could provide more for her than Rath could ever dream to. Rath was not materialistic; his life was solitary. As a Princess of Caelin, her place would be with Hector.
But then, there was Kent. Kent was strong in morals and determined to fight by Lyn's side. He was her loyal knight, a keen advisor. It was no secret that Kent harbored special feelings for Lyn, and he would be a good match for her, even if their statuses did not mix. (And to Lycians, status seemed to be of utmost importance.)
And Eliwood! Eliwood had all of those traits. He was good, he was loyal, he was noble and brave. Eliwood was practically perfect in all ways, and Lyn seemed to be very close to him. Rath had no chance against Eliwood.
Yet, she still came to Rath. Sometimes, they would spend these sessions together in light conversation; other times, the silence overtook the both of them. She seemed to be eager to fight by his side, but most likely, he was only a comrade and nothing more. His painful past would only serve as burden upon her own aching heart. She had gone through so much, and it would be cruel to saddle her with the skeletons of his bygone days.
This night, however, Rath did not stare at her out of the corner of his eye as she walked past. Instead, he concentrated on the dying embers of the fire. Most of the camp had gone to sleep, but the Lords were still up, discussing with Mark the latest complications in their campaign.
Eliwood and Hector were not with her this time, and Rath was surprised as she did not retreat to her tent but took a seat on the cold ground by his side, tucking her legs under her.
"Rath," she greeted him. "You're still awake."
"Lyn," he returned. "I usually am." Lyn smiled half-heartedly and joined his stare into the ashes. She sighed.
"I'm sorry," she offered after a moment of dense silence.
"For what?" Rath questioned her. She looked up at him, and he turned his head to see her porcelain face. Weariness from the war had marred her features, but they were still as striking as ever.
"For dragging you into this." Rath shook his head.
"As I have said, I am not angry with you. There is no need for you to apologize." Lyn nodded and said nothing. Rath's heart thumped with protest. He was probably chasing her off with this severe attitude, but he could not change even if he had wanted to. "You do not apologize to the other men."
The orange glow revealed that her face was turning red. A blush was certainly not the reaction Rath expected, but it intrigued him all the more.
"Excuse me if I sound silly," she said, her voice lowering. "But…I feel a sort of connection with you, Rath. I don't know, but I don't want you to be upset with me. I could never forgive myself if you were hurt on my behalf."
Inside, Rath's emotions were clashing together. His mind raced, trying to decipher what she meant by this. Rath struggled mentally to control himself. His facial muscles froze so that his expression would not reveal a hopeful glance; after all, he could be misinterpreting the fact that Lyn held feelings for him as well. His lungs steadied themselves so that his breathing would not become erratic as anxiety pumped through his veins. His heart was certainly making a wild clamor in his ears, and he prayed that Lyn could not hear it accelerating. Was she hinting at her own hidden emotions?
No, these were just hopes. Rath reverted into his usual state of mind realizing that there was no reason Lyn would feel a connection to him besides the fact that he was Sacaen. This did not translate to the love that he felt for her. And so, not a word left his lips in response to this.
Lyn let out another dejected sigh.
"Are you angry with me?" he inquired. Lyn's eyes opened in alarm.
"No, of course not," she assured him. She turned meek again. "Quite the opposite, in fact." Slowly, Rath tried to comprehend this. Though it made no sense, his hopes began to climb.
He mulled over what to do next. The following moments held the blessed silence he often took comfort in. Deciding to make a move, Rath reached out for her hand took it in his own. Lyn appeared startled at first by his sudden action, but her blush grew.
Her body scooted closer to his, and she laid her head on his shoulder, fitting it like a key into the lock of the crook of his neck. Rath craved to stroke her hair; he wondered if it would be smooth under his fingers, but her hand was so comforting that he dared not to remove his grasp on it.
"You're the only person that really understands me, Rath," Lyn mumbled. "I know…I know many other men are attracted to me, but none of them really understand me. My mother may have been Lycian, but she was Sacaen at heart. I was raised there; I still yearn to see the plains. I love my Grandfather, and I like Lycians. I just don't belong there among them."
"Lyn…"
"I belong in Sacae. I belong with my fellow plainspeople. I…" she hesitated. Her voice faltered, and she broke off for a second. But when she continued, her voice carried new strength. "I belong with you, Rath."
There were no words to explain just how perfectly she fit there next to him. Elation danced within him, and he nuzzled her hair. She smelled of sweat and grime, but it fitted her perfectly, and he would not have it any other way.
"Rath," she murmured.
"If you belong with me," he spoke softly. "Then never leave my side again, and I will never again leave yours." Lyn broke from her place to stare up at him. There was almost an expecting glint in her eyes.
Knowing just what she anticipated, Rath leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. Then he kissed her again, more deeply than the last though still chaste, as a true Sacaen man would. When they parted, Rath smiled down at her.
For once, his expression betrayed his emotions.
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Author's Note: This is dedicated to a kindred spirit, Wandering Cat, whom, after reading her profile, I know loves Lyn/Rath for the same reasons as I do (and hates Eliwood for the same reasons, but that's another topic entirely.) And she wrote a Janaff/Lucia, which I am forever grateful for.
Rath would have some insecurities. After all, growing up knowing that your tribe got rid of you to prevent disaster doesn't really add much to your self-esteem. (Even if he was born "to stop the burning.") And we need more Rath/Lyns, but that's just me.
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