Hero

"Do you ever get, tired?"

The question hangs in the air like a rotting stench. It goes unanswered as Owain works, the well worn sword in his care getting some much needed maintenance. Inigo's eyes are heavy and downcast.

Owain finishes tinkering with the pummel of the sword, and shifts it so that he's holding the grip. He checks the balance; it's a little off, so he goes back to work on it again, changing parts and filing off precious weight from the pummel then trying again. The process repeats until the blade balances perfectly with the tang on his two outstretched fingers. When he's satisfied he wraps the handle with a small, thin cloth that makes the metal easier to grip and gives the less experienced hand a better hold. He perhaps puts more than he normally would before sparing a look at Inigo's hands. Inigo pays him no mind, his hands cupping his down turned head. Owain goes back and removes some of the excess cloth he'd placed. When he feels it is enough, he gives the handle a firm squeeze, then stands. He swings the blade around a few practice swipes to feel the efforts of his handy work, striking a pose as he does.

"Evil never tires, so neither shall I!" is the answer he gives as he twirls around with the blade in his hand. A light smile is on his face as he looks over the sword one more time before turning to Inigo seated a short distance away, and offers the sword to him. But Inigo is distracted, he keeps looking at the grass as it sits still, then sways gently in the breeze, then stills again. Owain probably would have demanded his attention, but this time he doesn't. Instead he just waits.

After what seems like a long time Inigo notices that Owain is there at all. Slowly he rises from his seated position, and takes the blade in his hand. Inigo looks over the weapon, but he's not really inspecting it all that much. He does a few half hearted practice swings before he nods and places the weapon in the sheath attached at his hip.

"Much better. Thanks." Inigo's regular cocky smirk is back, but it lacks it's regular mirth. His hands fumble for the pouch on his side. First his fingers can't seem to find it, and when they do the latch keeping it closed seems to baffle them. For what ever reason Inigo doesn't turn to look at it, instead he just feels around the pouch, not really putting much effort into the action. When his fingers finally seem to make it inside, Inigo gropes around for a few seconds before he produces a small wrapped package, small enough to fit comfortably in the palm of his hand. He bounces it in his palm for a few moments, watching it go up and down lethargically before tossing it in Owain's direction.

Owain's eyes show the smile on his face when the little package appears, and they widen when Inigo tosses it. He scrambles to catch it - just barely doing so - cupping it in both hands and shooting Inigo a scowl. In response Inigo gives him a flippant smile, or perhaps he's smiling at something behind him.

"Citrus, right?"

Owain is still glaring at Inigo, but he rolls the package into his palm and pulls the string keeping it closed. A small opening is all he needs; he brings the package up to his nose and takes a good waft of it, before his eyes brighten and he ties the small parcel closed again.

"Wonderful! Mother will be quite pleased!"

Inigo cocks his head to the side, his smile crooked. "I hope so. Tea is hard to find these days." The two of them stand there for a moment, the smile slowly slipping off of Inigo's face while he isn't paying attention and Owain quite taken with the small package cradled in his hands.

After a time Inigo seems to come back to himself - smile back in place - and he shrugs his shoulders. "I'll be off now. Say hi to Aunt Lissa for me." Inigo walks away with a short wave and not another word. Owain notices that he's headed off into the woods on his own, but doesn't stop him. Stopping him might be responsible, with the Risen so plentiful these days, but he doesn't. Now that Inigo's back is turned Owain watches him go. He's out of sight when Owain finally turns and leaves himself.

He heads back to the city. It's only a shadow of it's former glory now, but the castle walls still stand and they guard the people of Ylisse more so than even Falchion can. Or could; now who knows. Now is a very trying time.

He heads to his mother's room first, and knocks. He waits for what seems like a long time for an impatient youth, and when she doesn't answer he lets himself in to see that she isn't there. The next stop is the throne room, but before he enters he slips the small package into the pouch at his hip. When he enters he is greeted by Lissa - soft features and age have been kind to her - and his cousin. The two were in a discussion of some sort before he got there, but they turn towards him when he enters and what ever they were doing he has now interrupted it.

The two women couldn't look more dissimilar. Lucina is hard faced, lips thin; the world rolls from one side of her face to the other, giving her no rest. There is little to no softness in Lucina's features, and any trace of tears are long gone by now. Lissa is her polar opposite. Her eyes and lips smile when she sees Owain enter; her features are soft and kind. Tear tracks can be seen on her cheeks, and her eyelashes clump together. They are two very different styles of grief.

His mother moves first, coming across the great hall to greet him with a bone crushing hug that leaves him gasping and lifts him off the ground just a bit. For such a petite woman, Owain has no idea how she can do that so effectively. "Hello Owain, welcome home!" She greats warmly as she sets him down again. Lucina's greeting is significantly less cheerful; she offers him a smile that really isn't a smile at all, and a nod.

Lissa looks between the two of them for a second before turning back to Owain. "Lucina and I were just talking about how much time we can afford to mourn." Tears glisten in Lissa's eyes, but she keeps going regardless. "A year would be traditional, but we both agree that we just can't waste that time." Lucina stays quiet, her gaze distant. Owain waits for her to say something before turning back to his mother.

"The king and queen will live on in the bards songs. Their blood yet flows strong!"

Lucina doesn't scoff, but her face darkens "No one sings any more."

Lissa spares a second glance between the two of them before smiling. "Then I suppose we'll have to sing songs of their bravery. I think we're up to the task, aren't we son?" His mother loops her arm in his and snuggles up to him, where as Owain balks at the statement, his cheeks going red. "Mother! I'm the scion of justice, not a bard!"

Lissa pouts up at him in response. "Honey, you have a lovely singing voice. You got that from me you know! And besides, how are you going to tell all of those silly stories of yours if you don't sing? It would really improve your improv!" She then turns to Lucina with a smile on her face. "Don't you think Owain would spin a lovely story for Chrom and Olivia? He's always prattling on about scion this and blood line that. All that blah blah stuff."

Lucina gives him that smile that isn't a smile again, and nods softly. "I think Owain would make a fine story." She then turns to him and the look in her eye is genuine, even if the smile isn't a smile. "You'd do them justice Owain."

Owain stands there, his mouth open, waiting for the proper thing to say. His mother beams up at him and takes the opportunity instead. "Seeee! Even Lucina knows you'd do a good job! I bet your song would rival the ones about King Marth!"

Owain is still blushing furiously, and with a whinny "MOOOOOOM!" that escapes his lips he pouts back at her, squirming out of her hold so that he can reach down to his small pack. His mother only giggles at the display. "Oh honey, don't be so sensitive! Mother loves you very much! And you're adorable when you blush, isn't he Lucina?"

"Mother!" He whines again, finally grabbing at the small package and thrusting it towards her. He notices Lucina in the background, her features a touch softer, but still unspeakably sad.

His mother takes the small pouch and looks at it for a few moments before asking the obvious. "For me? Oh, you shouldn't have honey! What is it?" With a few flicks of her finger she's pulled open the string, and the lovely scent of citrus wafts through the air. Lissa's eyes light up and she leaps at her son, tackling him in a hug, toppling him over easily.

"Oh you are just the sweetest son a mother could have!" She turns to Lucina, extending the tea in her hand. "Owain brought us citrus tea! It's been so long since we had such a delicacy! I think we have enough here for a whole pot!" Lissa beams up at Lucina and even Lucina can't help but give at least a small smile. His mother then turns back to him, a wide smile on her face. "Where did you find it?"

"M-mother, get-t off!" He squirms underneath her until finally she relents, getting back to her feet, patting down her skirts and offering him a hand up. "You haven't answered your mother's question, Owain. Where did you find this?"

Once he's up and breathing again, Owain shakes himself out and straitens up before answering. "Inigo found it. He says hi, by-" The look on his mother's face tells him he's touched a soft spot, and it isn't long before he knows exactly why.

In a mater of seconds Lucina has crossed the distance between the two of them and is now surprisingly close. "Where is my younger brother?" She sounds mad, maybe upset is the word for it, but regardless her intensity is stifling and Owain finds his shoulders up defensivly and a step backwards before he even has time to realize it.

Lissa jumps between the two of them before Owain says a word, a sheepish smile on her face and her hands extended in a dismissive gesture. "He just needs some tim-"

"We don't have time!" Lucina barks back, her frame rigid and her fists clenched - one around Falchion, and the other like a club at her side. Then she realizing what she's said, takes a few steps backwards and looks away, her stance more subdued but no less rigid in it's structure. "I'm sorry Aunt Lissa, I didn't mean to raise my voice at you." Without a moments notice his mother is at Lucina's side, smiling and chirping about how it'll be alright and how everything will work out, and that she's just stressed.

Lucina lets her mother and stays silent for a few moments, before turning resolutely towards Owain once more. "If you see him, tell Inigo that there are things we have to discuss." She then turns to Lissa and dismisses herself, making her way out of the throne room without any more discussion on the matter. Lissa starts to offer something as a consolation as Lucina walks out, but she's gone before Lissa can finish. Owain watches his cousin go, Falchion strapped to her hip.

Once Lucina has left, Lissa turns to him and gives him a tired smile, one that doesn't reach her eyes. They stand in silence for a few moments before Lissa sighs and stretches her arms upward. "Mom is tired. Carry me!" She flops on top of him jokingly, and her weight is enough to send the both of them crashing to the ground again, with squeals of "MOM!" accompanying the matter.

"Hee hee, never mind, I'll just fall asleep right here! Has anyone told you you're comfortable? Nice and squishy!" Lissa says, placing the small package of tea to the side and snuggling up ontop of him.

"MOM! The scion of the holy bloodline is not squishy!" Owain whines, not squirming nearly as much as he would normally.

"It's a compliment! One day some beautiful girl is going to want to lay her head on your chest and hear the steady thump of your heart. You want her to feel like she's on a pillow, not a rock!"

"Mother! Inigo is the philanderer, not me! I don't want girls just laying on top of me!" But his words are more childish than serious, and he watches as his mother places her ear against his chest, her eyes still closed. Its this close that Owain can really get a good look at how worn his mother looks. You'd never know she'd lost her husband and siblings from the way she acts.

After a while his neck starts to hurt from the angle, so Owain gently plops it down on the hard stone floor, and lets her stay that way.

"This is going to be hard to explain if someone happens upon us." Owain eventually mumbles loud enough that he knows his mother can hear him. She smiles and shrugs. "Wouldn't be the first time something I did required some explaining."

The two of them lapse off into silence once more before Lissa sighs and wraps her arms around him. "I'm sorry Owain. You'll have to share me for a while. Lucina doesn't think she needs a mother, but she does. Now more than ever, and Inigo needs me too. The two of us are going to have to work extra hard." She sighs to herself, and her eyes open just a tad. "Sometimes I think all the smiles and reassurances in the world couldn't lift Lucina's spirits."

Slowly Lissa lifts herself from on top of him, and plops down on the floor of the throne room. She sighs again before turning to him with a bright smile on her face. "But I'm the heroine of the holy blood line and you're the scion of the holy blood line, so there isn't anything we can't do!"

Owain strains to sit next to her, nodding his head and smiling. "A hero is never idle!"