TITLE: First Taste of Evil
AUTHOR: Sharyn )
SERIES: Fire Emblem 7 - Rekka no Ken
RATING: PG-13
WARNINGS: Yaoi, angst, m/m kissing, abuse
PAIRINGS: Erk/Wil
LENGTH: 1300 words
ARCHIVING: The R-version at my LJ and the censored PG-version at FFnet, others please ask.
DISCLAIMER: Fire Emblem 7 is copyright of Nintendo 2003, I make no claims to any of the characters, only to their interactions in this piece. If I actually owned FE7, Legault would be gayer than Aziraphale and Karel would be the sex god.
DEDICATION: For R Amythest, since it is Christmas and I love Christmas gifts, whether it is receiving or giving. She requested a wishfic (at which I felt like banging my head against something hard when I found out what she had in store for me) which was an Erk/Wil pairing, something happens due to a glass window, and it had to be angst/romance. Hope you like, Merry Christmas Ammie! And btw, I've decided to name this 'ship: Crack-shipping, because of my predictable reaction to the pairing and if I were to write this pairing humorously, Wil would sound as if he were on crack. Hell, he already sounds as if he's on crack in this fic.
A/N: PLEASE READ! I've made a few assumptions in this fic. Firstly, is that Wil's village in Pherae, and Caelin in general, sees very little magic and because of this, magic is slightly taboo (after all, absolutely NO magic users come from Caelin or Pherae). Secondly, the incidents in this fic happen in Lyn's story. That makes the sole offensive magic user to be Erk, until Lucius comes along but his presence isn't important for this fic. Also, you will notice that there are two ratings on this fic, the version on FFnet is the PG version whilst the uncensored version is at my LJ (user 'feiye').
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First Taste of Evil
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When Wil stares out of the window, it is an obscene sight.
He leans against the glass as if trying to merge with the transparent surface. He leans so close that from outside, his face is a distorted image with too much skin and too little detail. People have long ceased to tell him off for this, they are accustomed to find him like this. He rushes to the nearest window when a flash of colour catches his attention, a flash of colour that is alive.
When he suspects there is magic nearby.
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See no evil.
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In my earliest memories, I remember my fascination with colours, bright vibrant colours. I would obsess over each new shade the village artist developed so much that he painted a canvas of colours for me. I was four.
It was my favourite possession, something I poured hours of time and devotion to, fingertips tracing over the gradients as I found yet another colour I hadn't noticed before. It only took me three months before I had memorised each colour and one month after that before I went to the artist again.
"Wil!" he had said, pointing a dripping paintbrush my way, "Go find something else to do! You're a growing lad and you should be outside playing, not having some obsessive-compulsive desire over colours!"
I took the advice of the artist with me, despite not understanding what 'obsessive-compulsive' implied at the time, and dedicated my time to learning archery. My father sighed in relief as he realised I no longer spent each evening poring over the canvas of colours and that it spent the night under my bed rather than in it.
I was nine when I saw new colours.
They appeared from seemingly nowhere and grew in brilliance before disappearing far too quickly. There were so many shades, I could spend years studying and memorising each of those colours. What was only better was that each time they appeared, no colour would ever be repeated.
"What is it?" I had asked in a voice that quivered with excitement.
"Wil, my boy," father had pulled me aside with concern and said with an urgency that sent a tingle down my spine, "that's magic."
Magic, the word sent ripples of fear through the village but to me, the forbidden appeal made it even more alluring.
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Hear no evil.
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I first knew he was watching me when I heard the whoosh of a wayward arrow pass by me – too far from its intended target, too close to me for comfort, a twisted caress in its own right. I spared a glance at the archer, only to find his usual happy and clueless demeanor completely shattered as he just stared at me. No, not at me…
At my hands. Or more specifically, at the magic that was forming in them.
He was unable to withhold the gasp that was wrenched from him each time I called upon nature's forces of fire and thunder. His bow would remain slack in his grasp and he just stood in the middle of a battlefield watching. It annoyed me to see him be so frivolous in the middle of a battle. Even if I did like the admiration in his eyes."Focus!" I yelled at him when I moved next to him and fried the opponent that he had no chance of beating because his attention was focused elsewhere.
"Oh…sorry…I just," he shook his head and smiled before letting loose an arrow behind him without breaking eye contact.
The reverberating thrumming of his bow hadn't yet faded when a pained splutter sounded in its wake, and a body fell – an arrow impaled in its throat.
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Speak no evil.
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"There's nothing wrong with using magic."
"No one in my village ever spoke about it. They all were so frightened at the mention of it."
"What's the difference between killing with the weapon in your hands and using magic to do it?"
"But…"
"The only difference is that I don't ever get any blood on my hands."
"Erk! That's not fair!"
"Neither is your assumption that magic is evil."
"It's just that everyone has been saying, or implying that. What else am I supposed to believe?"
"Don't believe it, Wil."
"All I really know…is that you create such lovely colours…"
"Wil?"
"Could you…show me?"
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Do no evil.
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The first time they were intimate, Wil asked Erk to cast 'fire' and 'thunder'.
"I really want to see the colours," Wil said.
"And I really want to see you," Erk whispered and leaned closer to Wil.
When Erk first kissed Wil, their teeth clashed and Wil frantically shoved him away, scratching his nose. There was an awkward pause as Wil refused to look at him but kept his gaze steadily fixed on the fire and the dancing lightning interwoven through it that Erk had cast in place of a campfire. It was only after Erk put out his spells that Wil looked in his general direction in the darkness.
"Erk…"
When they kissed again, it was Wil who initiated it. Their lips brushed against each other for the most fleeting of moments before he withdrew, his cheeks burning as hot as Erk's spells. When Erk drew him closer and kissed him everywhere except his face, Wil forgot to be embarassed.
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Evil. Evil. EVIL.
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My heart bleeds tears when I beat you. Why do you force your father to do such things? Why, Wil? WHY?
I warned you when you were younger to leave your obsession with colours behind, to stay well away from magic. I should have known that you were tainted when you took that damned canvas to bed each evening. You not only ignore my warning, you choose to go against it. A direct disobeying of my wishes.
You courted magic, danced with it, slept with it and brought it back with you.
You bring back some mage to our village and hope that we can accept the two of you? A MALE mage at that! I cannot express the disappointment I felt when I saw the two of you embracing. You are a disgrace. You deserve to be beaten. I will beat the evil taint out of you. You will be pure again, my boy. You will be someone I can be proud of.
Your personal demon cries when he sees blood. He cries for me to stop, but you know that only until you have bled out the evil in you can you be pure again. He cries for you, he cries for his actions.
He cries out when your eyes close. He asks what he can do.
I tell him to go away. To never bring his taint to you ever again. To ensure no other will taint you again.
You don't need your colours. They will only ever bring you grief and destruction. The world is black and white and that is all you need.
I nurse you back to health and tell you that this is for your own good. I accept the look of hatred you bestow upon me and nod my acquiescence when you tell me you are leaving for Caelin to become a knight. Because in my heart, I know only a parent can know what is best for their child.
And because you now see the world in black and white.
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When Erk pauses to listen to the sounds of fighting outside, Priscilla lets him.
He looks out of the window with such a wistful longing that Priscilla knows keeping him with her is no use. He closes his eyes when he hears the thrumming of a bow and can see in his mind the parabolic path the arrow will travel before landing. He doesn't realise that he is outside until Priscilla touches his arm. And he doesn't realise that when Priscilla lets him go, who he will meet.
And he doesn't realise that to some, his magic is no longer colourful.
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'See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil and do no evil.'
– Confucius
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A/N: There we go. I'm sorry that the window didn't play a big part…I really really tried. This is my take on a probable Erk/Wil relationship, and at the same time explain why Wil has no support convos with any magic users. And why he doesn't write home. Comments always extremely welcome and will be cherished like my favourite bishounen. (I really would like to know what you thought of my portrayal of this impossible pairing)