Disclaimer: FE does not in any way belong to me, it's the property of Nintendo, etc.

Notes: Written for the challenge over at lj's Magvel community. The prompt was 'apology'. Also posted on my lj.

Three Times Ewan Apologized to Saleh (and the One Time Saleh Apologizes to Ewan)

( i. )

Ewan knew he wasn't the easiest kid to be around; his sister, Tethys, was always trying to rein him in, scolding him for being too rambunctious, or rude, or irresponsible or-

Well, the list could go on, but that was the gist of it.

Still, Ewan had been on his best behaviour ever since Master Saleh agreed to take the young boy on as his apprentice, so he didn't understand why the sage always seemed so... Not angry, exactly- disapproving, that was it. Master Saleh always seemed so disapproving.

It wasn't anything that the sage did to give Ewan that impression, but Master Saleh was always quiet and aloof, like an impartial observer. Who wasn't impartial, but actually disapproving. Anyway, it was just the feeling Ewan got, because it seemed like Master Saleh's default expression was 'serious-slash-emotionless' and his emotional expression was-

... Ewan hadn't seen any emotional expressions yet, actually.

To be fair, they had only been back in Caer Pelyn (the place was so awesome, and most of the people weren't stuffy and grave like his teacher – not that Ewan was complaining, because, well, he just wasn't; Master Saleh was awesome in his own way) a week, and Master Saleh had started actually teaching him magic three days ago. So maybe Ewan was jumping to conclusions when he thought that Master Saleh was disapproving.

Another of the things his sister was always scolding him for was being too impulsive, after all.

Still, as Ewan went through his lessons for the day, he couldn't help that his mind wandered to places it probably shouldn't have been. He could read and write perfectly well (Tethys had made sure of that) and his arithmetic wasn't too shabby either. He just didn't really see the point of trigonometry, or history – the former because he was having a hard time grasping the concepts, and the latter because he had no interest in what happened halfway across the world in Frelia approximately 200 years ago. Who did, seriously.

(That happened to be the point in history when it was realized that pegasi would only consent to be ridden by females, but whatever. Ewan was a guy, so what did that have to do with him.)

Sighing, the redhead carefully turned to the next page of the textbook. Master Saleh had said he needed to read this chapter... Finally, the end was in sight: the next page was the last. Ewan perked up at the prospect, glancing around the modest cabin that was his teacher's home. The mage was nowhere in sight.

Master Saleh had also told Ewan to stay out of trouble and continue his studies while the man went to the village for some business.

It was a distinct possibility that Saleh had meant Ewan should keep reading the history textbook (Ewan was so done with reading about Frelia, so that was a no) or working on his trigonometry (too difficult for him to tackle on his own, or so Ewan told himself) so that left...

Magic.

Ewan might have skimmed the remaining page (more about the nature of pegasi and how they were an integral part of the Frelian military, blah blah blah) in his rising excitement. Because he had thought of a totally awesome plan that would, without a doubt, make Master Saleh approve of him and be proud that he had taken Ewan on as a student.

Practice magic, show Master Saleh that he was a prodigy and then Ewan could join Gerik's mercenary group with his sister and Marisa and kick some serious bad guy butt.

It was too stuffy in the cabin, so Ewan went outside, the novice-level magic tome (Fire) tucked securely under his arm. A small stream was quite close by, and Ewan enjoyed sitting in the shade of a tree and reading near it. It was a stark contrast to the endless (only seemingly; he knew now that the desert did not go on forever, courtesy of his journey with Master Saleh) deserts of Jehanna and the scattered oases.

Opening the slim book to its first page, Ewan began to read slowly, not wanting to mispronounce a word or accidentally skip something in the incantation. Master Saleh had repeated the dangers of doing so several times, and Ewan didn't intend to make any mistakes.

It had been early afternoon when Ewan first began; as the sun crossed the sky, the pupil found his eyelids growing heavy. Stifling a yawn, Ewan pinched his arm roughly. "Don't fall asleep," he sternly ordered himself, his lips quirking upwards as he realized he sounded a bit like his sister did when she was trying to impress some important information to him.

"Ok, just a short rest. I'll just close my eyes for a few minutes..."

Ewan woke briefly when someone picked him up (Gerik, maybe; his sister couldn't pick him up anymore, he was too big) and he mumbled, "Wha' time is it?"

"Nearly five," came the short reply, the voice not as familiar as Gerik's or Tethys', but still known to Ewan – it was Master Saleh.

Red eyes widened and Ewan tried to banish the exhaustion that weighed upon him. "Master Saleh!" he gasped, trying to sit up. The sage's arms tightened around him, to stop the boy from tumbling to the ground. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep-"

"We'll discuss it later, Ewan," his teacher assured him. "Next time, you're not to practice magic without my supervision."

"Just wanted to make you proud," the pupil muttered sleepily, already falling back asleep.

"... I appreciate the sentiment, but it is rather dangerous to push yourself to such an extent-"

Ewan's eyes slid closed at that point, but not before he saw the worry in Master Saleh's eyes as he spoke softly to his pupil. The low, smooth timbre of the sage's voice lulled Ewan back to sleep.

( ii. )

Ewan was (mostly, when it counted) an obedient pupil. He never directly disobeyed Master Saleh, and since the incident near the beginning of his apprenticeship, when he exhausted himself so badly practicing magic with restraint, Ewan had never taken a tome by himself again.

(But it should be noted that Master Saleh only told him to never practice alone. He didn't say anything about a bit of harmless reading in the pupil's spare time...)

They were visiting a small village near the Narube River, in the eastern part of Jehanna. Ewan hadn't been aware that some part of his native country wasn't all deserts, to be honest. And he hadn't really believed it, although the nice maps that Master Saleh kept had been clearly marked.

Yet here they were, in a nice valley within Jehanna's borders. Saleh was meeting with the village leader, and he'd invited Ewan to come but the boy preferred to spend him time exploring the place on his own, so he'd declined.

The inn where they were staying was nice, but Ewan didn't want to stay cooped up in the room all day. He'd been getting much better with anima magic, lately, but frustratingly Master Saleh insisted that he needed to work on Fire. For the record, Ewan had read the thin volume at least a hundred times over. He could probably recite the incantation in his sleep. Not that he would, of course, but still. He was fed up with working on that spell.

So that was how Ewan ended up sitting on the railing of a bridge over the Narube River, brow furrowed intently as he tried to puzzle through Fimbulvetr. The name was sort of similar to Fire, so they were probably related, and thus it shouldn't be too hard for Ewan to figure the new spell out, right?

Squinting at an unfamiliar word, the pupil was starting to think that maybe taking his teacher's tome without asking had not been such a good idea. But surely Master Saleh would be pleased if Ewan managed to master the more advanced spell. This thought in mind, the pupil persevered.

"Ewan!" Master Saleh's voice, sharper than usual, cut into the pupil's concentration. The boy jerked up, his eyes wide. The sage was standing there, on the bridge, with a grave old man (probably the village leader) and a few other men, staring at him.

"M-Master Saleh-" he stammered, but the sudden motion had put Ewan off balance and he swayed for a moment, flailing wildly for a grip.

The sage jumped forward, reaching for the boy. He grabbed one flailing hand, hauling Ewan towards him with surprising strength. The redhead fell off the railing and into his teacher; the pair stumbled back, but the crisis was averted.

"Oh shoot, I dropped the book!" Ewan gasped, realizing that he had, in fact, done so in the midst of his flailing.

One of the younger men in the group had managed to snatch the tome out of the water. The sage took it back with a word of thanks, but only put it in his bag. His gaze – disappointed, disapproving – remained on his student, however.

"... Um, sorry, teacher," Ewan mumbled nervously, very much conscious of the amused or annoyed stares he was getting from the villagers.

Master Saleh frowned at him. "I thought I had told you not to practice magic on your own, Ewan," he said sternly.

Ewan winced. "Well... technically-" The pupil fell silent, noticing the stormy look in Master Saleh's eyes. Definitely not the time for a smart remark, got it. "Sorry for ruining your book, Master Saleh," the redhead finished instead, not having to work for sincerity like he sometimes did. This wasn't one of his pranks, and he hadn't meant to upset his teacher.

The sage nodded shortly. "... Return to the room, Ewan. We'll discuss the consequences later." He didn't sound angry, just... tired. Somehow that seemed to make things worse, to the pupil.

Ewan bowed his head. "Yes, sir." He gave as respectful a nod as he could manage to the other men and hurried back to their room at the inn.

( iii. )

Ever since Ewan and Saleh had returned home to Caer Pelyn after defeating the Demon King, the redhead had been acting... strangely. He seemed subdued and quiet – had it been anyone else, Saleh might have accused them of brooding, but Ewan was definitely not the brooding type.

Something was up, that had Ewan so distracted. Saleh had tried broaching the subject several times, but his pupil had evaded the sage's questions and remained quiet about whatever it was that so preoccupied him.

Very well, Saleh would wait. He knew that Ewan sometimes puzzled over questions for long periods of time. Once he had sorted through his thoughts, he would tell Saleh about it and things would return to normal.

A month passed, then two, and still Ewan remained distant.

Finally, Saleh couldn't take it any longer. He was always the patient one, but it seemed that for once the redhead had outlasted him.

They were sitting outside, under the tree by the stream, but Saleh couldn't concentrate on the book he was reading. Watching Ewan out of the corner of his eye, the sage concluded the same could be said for his pupil; he hadn't turned a page in close to fifteen minutes.

Stifling a sigh – he'd learned that beginning conversations with Ewan on such a note tended to get the boy's back up – Saleh calmly inquired, "Is something the matter, Ewan?"

The redhead looked up, startled. "No," he answered, too quickly. "Why would you think that, Saleh?"

The sage frowned slightly, unconvinced. "You've been... quiet, ever since we returned to Caer Pelyn. I can't help feeling that you're unhappy," Saleh answered. "I hope you do not feel any obligation to remain here, if that is what is making you so ill at ease," he added, his dark eyes intent upon Ewan's face.

The boy looked perplexed. "No, that's not why- I love it here. I couldn't be happier if I was anywhere else in the world but here, with you," he declared, his gaze darting away as he admitted to the last part.

Saleh was, again, unconvinced. "You hardly laugh anymore, Ewan... I can scarcely remember the last time you smiled," he said. "If you feel you must stay here for my sake... As I said, you have no obligation."

Ewan rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "If you want me to leave, Saleh, just say so," he muttered.

The sage frowned again. "I would like nothing more than for you to stay, my dear pupil."

For some reason, the endearment seemed to upset the boy. "I'm hardly you're pupil anymore, Saleh," Ewan said, sounding frustrated.

Saleh blinked, feeling as if he was missing some sort of context. "Of course not- you'll be surpassing me, someday soon," he agreed, his confusion obvious in his voice. "It's just... you'll always be a pupil to me, Ewan." By saying so, he meant only to convey that Ewan would always be welcome in Saleh's home, a beloved member of the sage's small family.

The redhead squeezed his eyes shut. "Always, Saleh?"

"Yes?" the sage answered, becoming more and more bewildered.

Ewan exhaled heavily. "Ok. I can accept that," he said quietly. "Excuse me, I promised the villagers that I'd visit later today." The boy stood and began to walk away.

"Ewan- wait," Saleh said hurriedly, following after him. When the redhead showed no signs of stopping, he grabbed the boy's arm.

Ewan spun around, and Saleh was a little astonished to find that there was a scant inch between them in height. When had that happened, he wondered.

"Mas- Saleh. I just have to know, ok? Sorry in advance," Ewan said quickly, and it took Saleh a few moments to process what his pupil had just said.

At that point, Ewan was pressing warm, slightly dry lips to Saleh's own. The boy – not a boy, his mind dazedly corrected – tasted faintly spicy, and it was only the fact that he was frozen in shock that stopped Saleh from following Ewan's lips when the redhead pulled away, cheeks flushed.

"Sorry!" Ewan blurted again, his gaze fixed on the ground. Saleh was still too stunned to react, and could only watch as the redhead ran off.

( one )

Saleh finds Ewan sitting under what the sage has come to consider 'Ewan's tree', by the stream. The boy – no, Saleh reminds himself, Ewan is a young man now – glances up as the sage approaches, then quickly looks back down at the tome he is perusing.

It has been a painful week; Saleh had not quite realized how accustomed he had become to Ewan's constant presence, his exuberant laughter and cheerful chatter. With Ewan avoiding his presence, the days had been lonely and passed slowly. The sage had been reading a book Princess Eirika had sent him, about Renais' history and had turned to point out a passage of interest to his student- only to remember that Ewan was staying with Saleh's grandmother for the time being.

"Ewan," he greets the young man, carefully sitting down beside him.

"Saleh," the redhead murmurs back, glancing up at the sage from beneath his shaggy bangs.

Saleh is momentarily speechless; when had Ewan stopped calling him 'master'? He wracks his mind for a moment, before realizing that the pupil – no, the druid – has been on equal terms with his former teacher for quite some time.

"...I'm afraid I've wronged you, Ewan," Saleh says carefully. He has always been a man who thinks before speaking, and now – more than ever – he does not want to say the wrong thing.

"No, teach- Saleh," Ewan corrects himself, looking at Saleh fully. "It was my fault, I shouldn't have- I'm sorr-" he begins earnestly, stumbling over his words in his haste to set the record straight.

"Ewan, please," Saleh interrupts, putting his hand on the redhead's shoulder and giving it what the sage hoped was a reassuring squeeze. What he really wants to do is cover Ewan's mouth with his hand and soothe any worries the young man might have, but Saleh has never been such a tactile, outspoken person and he doesn't want to mess this up now. "I don't want you to apologize. Please hear me out."

The druid bites his lip, but nods. "Ok, Saleh."

The sage smiles. "Thank you. You... startled me, before. I had become so used to thinking of you as my pupil, as... the young boy who tried so earnestly to earn my approval, that I didn't realize that you'd grown up, Ewan," Saleh explains. "I was confused when you kissed me, but I've been thinking about it and... You're not a boy, anymore. You're a man now, even if I didn't realize it."

Ewan has been fidgeting as Saleh speaks, his gaze darting from the sage's eyes to his mouth and away, as if he is afraid to look at his former teacher for too long. He opens his mouth to speak again, a pained look in his eyes even as he tries for a slight smile. "Saleh, I still shouldn't have presumed-"

Saleh frowns and this time indulges himself, gently pressing a finger to the redhead's lips, silencing him. "I did not mean to give you the impression that I am loath to a relationship – a romantic one," the sage murmurs, feeling his cheeks heat at the admission. "But Ewan... You know there is more than a score of years between us. I will be an old man when you are in your prime." Saleh had been thinking about this and other potential obstacles, seriously, for the entire week.

"Oh," Ewan says, his face reddening as well. "That's what you were worried about. I thought you didn't like other men – or me – or something like that," the druid replies earnestly, dismissing Saleh's concerns as trivial in a few short words.

"As I said," Saleh mutters, his hand returning to his side, "I was... startled, but your advances were not unwelcome. I'm sorry if I gave you an impression otherwise. ... A bit of warning would have been nice, that's all."

Ewan smiles, bright as the sun. "Duly noted, teacher," he says teasingly. Belatedly, Saleh notices that Ewan has set his tome aside and is now leaning towards him, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. In spite of himself, Saleh's breath hitches as Ewan stops with scant millimeters between their lips. They're close enough to be breathing each other's air.

"May I kiss you, Saleh?" Ewan asks seriously, his gaze intent.

"Yes, yes," Saleh murmurs, not quite finding the wits to be annoyed at how breathless and desperate he sounds.

A/N: Inspired by Saleh & Ewan's support conversations. I hope I did them justice. ;)

Feedback of any sort is greatly appreciated!