Symphonie Fantastique

A Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn Fanfiction

DISCLAIMER: Fire Emblem and its characters belong to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems. Symphonie Fantastique was written by Hector Berlioz.

Reveries, Passions

There was a time when we were young, and the three of us were inseparable. We had grown up together without the restrictions our future duties would force us into. We were siblings in every sense of the word except the physical one. We idly dreamed of the day we would accept the roles our blood had cast us, unaware that we would eventually have to realize the brutal truth – we weren't going to stay together forever.

"We'll be strong fighters of Crimea, right, sister?" I asked Lucia. She nodded.

"We will. We have to live up to that." That was Lucia. So full of purpose and duty. I think she realized the gravity of our fate much, much sooner than I did.

The sound of footsteps down the hall announced your presence.

"Hello, Geoffrey, Lucia," you said to us. We greeted you in response. "What are you two talking about?"

"What we'll be doing when we grow up," I said. "I'm going to be an honourable knight of Crimea!" I smiled at you, as you giggled at the notion that I could ever possibly be such a knight. "I'll be able to be with you all the time then. I'll be protecting you."

You looked so happy, so hopeful for me.

"You will?"

"Of course. We both will," Lucia answered.

"Then we really won't ever be separated!" you exclaimed. "We'll never leave each other."

"Yes," I agreed, completely convinced this was true.

"… yes," Lucia slowly added. I think it was at this time that we should have considered how long we could hold to those words. Lucia knew. I did not.

A Ball

He did not like suits – that was for certain.

Geoffrey sat at one of the many tables in the Great Hall, tugging at his collar. Lucia looked at him disapprovingly.

"You're one of the queen's retainers," she scolded. "If Elincia was Crimea's head, we would be her hands. Is this the way to give a good impression of her?" She sighed and reached for her brother's collar, fixing it up properly. "There. Now don't fiddle with it."

"Lucia, you know how I dislike formalities," Geoffrey said in reply. "That and paperwork."

"But for his fair and noble queen, our young sir will smile and bear this onus! Ah, such a resplendent tale to behold…" A familiar black-caped figure dressed in Crimea's finest sauntered over to the siblings. He held a red rose in full bloom in his right hand, which he immediately presented to Lucia.

Of course – it was only typical of Bastian to do so.

"Your sweet talk won't work with me, Bastian," Lucia said reproachfully, still stubbornly refusing him her hand as he bent down on one knee. Geoffrey watched in silence as the comic scene in front of him unfolded, smiling all the while. It was moments like these that made his life in court bearable.

That, and one other matter...

"Queen Elincia Ridell Crimea!"

The sound of the court herald shouting announced her presence.

She walked down the stairs in the centre of the hall, dressed in beautiful attire that only befitted a queen. The crown of Crimea rested on her head of emerald green and she waved to the people gathered. Immediately, the servants of House Crimea went down on one knee. She motioned for them to stand again, as the celebration returned to the vigour it had only moments before.

Geoffrey heard some slow music play. Waltz music. Traditionally, the queen led the dance.

But who was to be her partner tonight?

He knew that she was not comfortable dancing with others. She danced some, but not usually with others of the court. As though he felt like it was the right thing to do, Geoffrey approached the one he would always stand by, ready to give support.

"Princess – no, Queen – " he began, a little uncertainly.

"Elincia."

A new voice made the presence of a third party known. Geoffrey turned his head in the direction of the voice, greeted by the sight of a blue-caped, blue-haired man approaching the two of them. Clearly uncomfortable in his attire, the only shred of his normal clothing remained in the headband tied around his head. How and why it managed to remain was quite a mystery.

"My lord Ike."

Ike looked slightly uneasy, though the only evidence of this was his shifting of weight from foot to foot. It looked as though he couldn't form the words on his mouth correctly.

"Can I – no, may I dance with you?" he asked. His eyes darted in the direction of Ranulf, who was grinning, and Titania, who was also smiling. It didn't take Geoffrey long to realize what had transpired between the three of them.

"… of course," was her soft reply. He bowed, she curtsied and he led her out to the middle of the hall. All eyes were affixed on them as they revolved slowly, him looking at his feet, her guiding him silently around. It was not until Bastian gracefully dragged Lucia onto the floor that others began to join in.

Geoffrey watched his sister, somewhat flustered, being swept into dance by the count. He chuckled quietly despite himself, glad for something to keep his mind off of what had happened only moments ago. He went to a pillar in the hall and casually leaned against it, a silent spectator of the dance.

But he did not even glance at Elincia again. Perhaps it was for the better, then, that he did not see the look in the eyes of his Queen and her General.

Scene in the Fields

I remember one day, when we were training.

I think that at this time I had started to realize that maybe, just maybe, we wouldn't be able to always be together. It was only now that I was ready to accept my role as your sworn retainer and fully dedicate myself to training for such a fate. Lucia, too, changed slightly, but she was still the dutiful figure. I had yet to understand the sacrifices that came with my role.

But as for weapon proficiency, we excelled.

How could we not? We had the kingdom's greatest knight, Lord Renning, as our tutor. He taught Lucia the sword, and me the lance. Under his hand, we learned the most delicate intricacies of battle. When you were not learning deportment and other such courtly mannerisms, Lord Renning also lent you a hand with your sword skills.

Of course, I always wondered why the two of you wanted such lessons to occur. If you were the princess and we were your retainers, what need did you have for entering battle when we were prepared to die on your behalf? Still, I was in no place to refuse your request, so they continued.

That day, Lucia and I were sparring. It was a calm day, with a light breeze that accentuated our movements in the grass. With my lance, I had a length advantage over my sister, but her light sword allowed her to move more nimbly. We danced the dance of blades, conducting the movements of battle.

The sound of a third set of movements in the grass announced your presence.

You walked to us in your white armour, slightly apprehensive, but confident at the same time, your right hand clenching the hilt of your sword. We stopped immediately. I let the end of my lance rest on the ground.

"Lucia, Geoffrey…" you began. "Will you… train with me?"

"We will if you want us to," Lucia said. "In fact, I think that's a good idea. How about I watch the two of you?"

Lucia went to sit down as the two of us began to fight. Yet, it felt like all the energy was being drained from me. I couldn't bring myself to thrust my lance through your weak places, and though I knew you'd never learn this way, I didn't want to see you hurt.

"… Geoffrey?"

The slim sword caught the side of my lance and shoved it aside, its edge now pointing at my face.

"Geoffrey, you're not… going easy on me, are you?" you asked, slightly timidly. I turned away as she put her blade down.

"I-I just don't want to see you hurt by my hand," I said. "I'd rather take the pain instead of you."

"I think that there will be a time when I will have to defend myself."

I turned to you again.

"You don't exist to take the pain away from me. It would hurt me… so much more… to see you hurt." You looked at me and Lucia. "Both of you." An inexplicable silence fell between us; I don't think such a topic had ever crossed our minds before.

"… then, shall we start our training again?" Lucia eventually said. She smiled. So did you.

And so did I.

March to the Scaffold

The meeting was sudden, calling in all the members of the Crimean Court. From all ends of the kingdom the aristocracy swarmed in, insistent on knowing what unforeseen event could call for such an abrupt interruption into their lives. They assembled and sat down in their usual seats. None were empty – except one.

Geoffrey stood at the bottom of the steps leading up to the throne; both he and Lucia, as the queen's retainers, held those positions in court gatherings. As everyone settled, all eyes turned to the red-carpeted corridor.

Apprehension, unrest, suspicion – all hung in the air.

Suddenly, a clean, pure note pierced the silence.

The sound of the trumpets announced her presence.

In all her regal glory, she walked through the arched door with the composure belonging with one of her stature. The court's heads followed her as she approached the throne. She passed by Geoffrey and Lucia without a glance of uncertainty. As she turned to face the court, she bore a face of sternness, no longer the wavering monarch.

Behind her eyes, though, was a look Geoffrey couldn't place.

Geoffrey could not comprehend what it was that caused such a change in his queen. For the past few days, she had been nothing but stern and hollow. Even Lucia could not shake her out of her unresponsive mood. She became affixed to her work, a slave to papers. When she looked down from her throne on the people seeking help, she smiled, but it was so contrived.

It had been three nights since she had requested his presence and two days since she announced the court gathering. Geoffrey was driven to believe that, just maybe, it was his fault.

One other possibility haunted his mind, but he refused to believe it.

Geoffrey stepped forward.

"Announcing Her Majesty, Queen Elincia Ridell Crimea," he said. The people of the court rose from their seats, scrutinizing her every move. She addressed them, motioning for them to sit down. They did, but whispers and glances turned to the empty seat once more. Everyone knew who it was, but no one dared raise a word. It could be said, perhaps, that some didn't complain because they actually found it preferable.

Of course, only an imbecile would openly admit it, but the court was already so unsettled that it probably would have been the one move to incite rebellion.

"I have called you all here today to cast your blessings on our new general," she said, her tone of voice flat and monotonous. In sharp contrast, the court displayed a myriad of emotions, the most obvious being sadness for the loss of the previous, the lesser ones shaded behind a veil of disappointment. Geoffrey looked over at Lucia, who was almost seething with rage. The queen, however, remained silent.

Finally, like children who at last realized that their teacher would not talk over them, the court fell into a quiet tenseness.

"Sir Geoffrey, may you approach?"

Geoffrey felt the aristocracy stare at him. The succession was only logical, but the atmosphere made the walk to the throne feel like a march to his death. He slowly walked to the top of the steps, as the queen rose and picked up a sword at her side – Amiti, he recognized. Wordlessly he kneeled down. It was a procedure he knew by heart, a role he had prepared to fill for a long time.

"By the powers vested in me as Queen Crimea, I hereby grant you the rank and powers as befitting of the General of the Royal Army of Crimea," she intoned in a clear, clean voice, bringing the sword down on first his right shoulder, then his left. The honoured blade then touched Geoffrey's head, and the ceremony was done. "General Geoffrey, you may rise."

Geoffrey felt a cape draped over his shoulders, a pair of hands fastening it onto his armour. After he felt the hands move away, he got up, straightening the new cloth dangling around him. The distance between him and Elincia was close enough for any words said between them to only be heard by them.

A question rested on his lips, but he did not even need to ask.

"Geoffrey… he's gone."

With that statement, though, he knew that when he had left, the queen he knew had died, and there was nothing in his power he could do to bring her back.

Dream of a Witches' Sabbath

There was one night, I think, that sealed my feelings.

It was a summer night – the summer that many called 'the summer of delirium'. It was sweltering hot, especially for knights wearing armour. My days were spent training, though, and every night I fell into bed drenched in sweat. Many people went feverish at times. One day, it had struck you.

Lucia and I spent hours by your side. We were supposed to protect you, but how could we have kept you from an illness? At a loss as to what to do, we summoned a doctor and could only wait for you to get better. You put on a brave face, but we knew you were suffering.

We had entered a stage where each of us understood our places in society, but were still willing to transcend those restrictions. I had not yet learned the subtleties of court life and I was not wanting to. Your lies of feeling well made me feel horrible inside, and although Lucia told me to leave you be, I couldn't bring myself to do it.

"You can't keep doing this," I said to you. "I can't see you like this, pretending for others' sake."

"Nothing is gained from tears," you said staunchly. "Geoffrey, don't cry for me."

Your silent strength forced me to concede; I continued to wish for your well-being, though at that time I had the feeling I wasn't wanted. So obeying your command, I walked out of your room with a heavy heart.

Back in my room, in my bed, I began to dream.

-

It started off calmly. The villa was quiet; I was tending to my lance, like any ordinary day. Lucia was nearby, sitting and laughing with you. You looked over at me, and I could only smile.

But the sound of clanking armour broke the peaceful tranquility of the scene.

"Sir!" a soldier cried. "Invaders!"

Before I could brandish the lance in my hand, a sword protruded from the soldier's stomach. An eerie red liquid flowed out from the wound as the blade retreated and the hapless man fell over. Behind him was a smiling bandit.

"Don't take it too hard, little princess," another man said, as people swarmed around Lucia. "You just have to go away."

I panicked. How did they know you were a princess?

Immediately, I thrust my lance forward, lacing it with blood. The men were not daunted, though, for they continued after Lucia, bent on blood. I ran after you as Lucia screamed for you to leave. I forced my way through, but by the time I got to where you had been, someone grabbed your wrist.

"Got you now," the man who had you bared his yellowed teeth. He raised his blade. I ran as fast as I could, but when I tried to impale the man, he swung you in front of him.

I watched your eyes widen, your breath falter. Something like this to happen… by my hand…

-

"Elincia!"

I woke up in a sweat, and it wasn't from the summer air.

I didn't care if the dream was not real. I ran out of the room and down the hall, down to your room. I began to bang on the door, screaming your name. I waited anxiously; I had to see you safe. I had to make sure you were all right.

Eventually, the door opened to reveal you, sleepy, but healthy.

"… Geoffrey?" you said. "What are you…"

I couldn't hold it in any longer. The relief, the joy I felt at seeing you spilled out. My unchecked emotions compelled me to wrap my arms around you, to confirm that I truly hadn't lost you.

"Elincia, I…" Words failed me. The one thing I stopped myself from doing was crying.

"Is something wrong?''

"No… everything is fine. I'm so glad to see you… you're safe…"

You slowly returned my embrace, a little confused, but willing nonetheless. It comforted me. I wanted that feeling to last, that security, and your purity. I wanted to suspend that beauty forever. I wanted to remain in the presence of your splendour, even if it meant giving my entirety to you.

"… yes. I will protect you." I brought you closer.

"Geoffrey?"

"In any way possible… even with my life, my heart… I will protect you."

This is the result of taking music history classes in the summer. While studying Berlioz, I thought that the titles of the movements would make for an interesting set of prompts. I left it when school started, but when I got my hands on Radiant Dawn I felt compelled to finish it. Apparently, Symphonie Fantastique was unconventional in its composition, so I tried to make something structurally unconventional in comparison to my other works. It was amusing. Is the difference between the alternating segments noticeable? I tried to do something with the second and fourth but I'm not sure if people can catch onto it.

I think I did stretch the amount of connection between this and Unspoken, though; they're perhaps a little too similar in construction (not to mention that this work definitely feels contrived). Geoffrey's personality in this story also irks me somehow. Input?

Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed this work!

-EmbeRin