DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. If I did, I would make FE7 able to pair just about anyone with another. Like these Hector/Ninian, for example.

BETA: STILL ME AND MY SILLY SELF, and Word.

Your thoughts and correction would be greatly appreciated, even in a PM, lovely lads and ladies!

Last chapter edited: Hector now has a travel cloak. That was about it. So, no confusion? Good! :)

The Graces Among Ares

Chapter One

Flit, Fly, Flirt

"Thank you, again, Sir Hector." Nils said, keeping up with Hector's long, brisk strides, admirable considering he was weighted down by a heavy cloak, the hem shorter, threads weaving through the long grass off-trail.

Hector bit the inside of his cheek. "Yes, yes, you said that before. Six times now, it's getting annoying." Truthfully, it had started nettling Hector after the second gratitude.

Nils huffed out a breath and swallowed audibly, "I'm just that thankful. I feel as if I cannot thank you enough, for your aid. And you're cloak."

"Keep the hood up. I'm just a man looking for a fight, kid."

"No, you're not." Nils rebutted, tugging the hood further down.

Hector shrugged one shoulder, taking everything around them in with quick glances, "Yeah, whatever, boy. You'll end up tripping over yourself if you can't see." Nils stopped and moved the hood up just enough to cover his hair.

"We've been going for quite some time," About an hour, Hector thought, looking at the sun's position, "How long were you running?" Hector looked to the side, just in time to see Nils's expression turn uneasy.

"I don't know how long I ran, just that I did as hard as I could, to get help for my sister…" The boy's expression was unfocussed. "I'm sure they followed."

"Who are they?" Nils looked up, eyes clearing. "Those men."

"… They are the Black Fang." Nils paused. "I… my sister and I, we have a unique ability, that's why they want us."

"Hm… so they are very strong." Hector straightened, "Well met opponents to heighten my skills with."

Nils jumped in front of Hector, jogging backwards to keep from being barreled into the ground.

"Didn't you hear me? I said the Black Fang. Aren't you frightened? Why are you still walking? They only go after bad people, you know," Nils said, desperately, voice trembling. "I could be a bad person!"

"I know about them, kid, and what I know, it's enough for me. And, you don't look the type. Pah!" Hector spat to the side, "Black Fangs of the Poor, Red Lightnings of Truth… all of them - it's just false names for their real deeds. Murder, petty thieving, and kidnapping. They are the lowest of low." Nils stilled, mouth trembling, and Hector passed him, grabbing an arm and dragging him.

"You're getting your sister back, you hear me, kid?" Hector ignored the peripheral sight of Nils wiping his eyes with his free arm and sobbing. "And I'll be getting my own wants, too."

"Thank you, thank you – thank you, Sir Hector!" Nils cried, and Hector groaned, wincing.

"Please, boy, you're embarrassing." Just to make sure the kid did not trip over himself, Hector kept his grip on his arm.

Nils's laughter was choked by his tears.

It took Nils a long time to compose himself, much to Hector's dismay, and when he was done, Hector lifted Nils's arm and slapped a spare handkerchief in his hand.

"Here, kid. You can cry all you want later, but there are criminals after you." Hector rubbed the back of his neck. "And… you're not exactly helping with being inconspicuous." Neither was Hector, really, with his red cape and blue armor now free to be seen. At least, Nils had a bit of cover. With the boy's height, his head just topped the tips of the wild growth.

Nils sniffled and coughed, wiping his face, "Forgive me, Sir Hector, I'm still… adjusting."

Hector took his grip away to clap a hand on Nils's shoulder, "It's fine, kid. You've been through an ordeal that hasn't even resolved, yet. I doubt you'll be in right spirits until you reunite with your sister…" Hector glanced at Nils, checking and was relieved. "What's her name?"

Nils beamed up at Hector, "Ninian!" Nils abruptly changed moods, "She's very sweet and very kind. I don't know what I'd do if they'd hurt her."

Hector's reach back over a shoulder and rubbed Wolf Beil's sure handle, "Well, if they have, they'll be dead soon, anyway."

Nils whispered, "You'll make them go away?"

"Count on it." Hector said, before clearing his throat, "I'm still in it for myself, just remember tha -"

"Oh, Sir Hector, stop!" Nils unexpectedly burst out, gripping as tight as he could to Hector's arm.

Hector did, and then he too, felt an overbearing hot prickle along his face and his hair on his nape stood straight up, as if someone was pinching them tight and pulling. The hair standing to attention was from an arrow, that whistled by his left ear. The prickling, on the other hand…

Hector grabbed Nils and lunged to the left, rolling. A sharp fireball smashed into their previous position, crackling the air with pops and a finishing roar as it burned the grass to black nothingness. Hector pressed Nils to the ground with one hand, briefly, "Stay here." He climbed off Nils and resting on his heels, grabbed Wolf Beil and spun forward with the battle axe.

It was not the smartest thing to do, but it did the trick, and the archer, concealed in the swaying grass, fell in two bloody halves.

Hector cursed, "They're hidden in the grass. Nils!" Nils appeared at his side, "Keep a few paces back, but don't move into my range. I might hit you."

"You won't, Sir Hector, don't worry!"

"Nils!" Hector snapped, "I'm serious."

"I said I would help," Nils was about to untie his sheathed dirk, when Hector grabbed his smaller hands in one.

Leaning close, Hector whispered, "Nils, you are a bard. A music boy! You aren't meant for fighting, leave them to me. Use it to defend yourself, if they get too close, and that'll only be if I'm too far in the fray of fighting." Hector curled over Nils, dodging another fireball – it flew past to blast what sounded like a boulder.

Hector steadied his breathing, and crawled on the ground, passing the dead archer. He paused, staring at one unbroken vial winking in the sun, hanging from the dead man's belt. He grabbed it, and passed it to Nils, who was still irritatingly close.

"Here. Take it," He urged.

"… What about you?" Nils stared at him with wide, frightened eyes.

"Just take it, boy, I don't need it!"

"You're lying, Sir Hector. You don't have any vulnerary."

Restraining himself from outright shouting, Hector wrestled it into Nils's hands. "At least, one of us does." He turned away to find that pyro-mage, and in order to do that, Hector, grimly, and brought Wolf Beil down on the archer's bow arm. Nils was breathing heavily, and Hector swallowed.

"Should have told you not to look, kid." Nils murmured something and shook his head. "Here goes nothing…" Hector threw the arm up high. "Move!" Hector and Nils scrambled through the sea of green. Hector kept an eye on the arm, spinning in the air, and grinned when the fireball charred it, coming from the right.

"He's close and in our direction." Hector stopped Nils from moving, and spoke quickly, "Alright, I'll get the flamethrower, you… keep put."

"Hector." Nils called softly, but Hector ignored him, ears intent on pinpointing where the mage was slithering in the grass, eyes trying to catch any colour from his point of view. The wind was beneficial for all, it teased the grass into movement, and made it difficult to discern if someone was moving in it or not, so Hector didn't bother watching for those signs.

A pair of feet was suddenly in his vision, shoulder spread and in his direction – boots worn – and Hector cut Wolf Beil into the ground and threw himself up with it. It was gruesome, but unavoidable, how the slight, short man was split in two, vertically.

A tome dropped – a Fire, Hector saw – only for Nils to scream.

"Duck, dodge!" Hector was in motion, he hit the ground and shoving away with his free hand and two feet, face prickling, and he marveled, watching the fireball hit the dead remains of its caller's ally – how Nils seemed to know, just as Hector did moments later.

Nils was beside him, "Ah! Are you injured?" He shook, violently.

"No…" Hector replied, staring at Nils, "Is this your ability? This… precognition?"

Nils was crying, Hector saw. "I thought I shouted too late!" Nils moaned, "I thought – I thought…" His breathing stumbled over itself, and Nils pressed one hand to his eyes.

"Hey… hey!" Hector shook him, "Cry later, remember? I'm not done, yet! And neither are you, calm down! Still have one more pyro-mage out there."

"Okay, Sir Hector, I will. I remember. Yes," Nils nodded and breathed in shakily, throwing his hood back. "Let's get him – the fireball came from over there." Nils pointed north.

Hector grinned. "Hah! Yes, let's go!" They crept on their stomachs – Hector belatedly thought he should have grabbed the tome, but shook his head – there had been little time, and its metal body hot from the flung fireball and its natural affinity. It would have seared his skin through his gloves.

Nils grabbed his arm, after a few minutes, which felt like hours, and tugged, whispering, "Sir Hector," Hector craned his neck to look at him, "He's right there." He stared at the waving wall of grass, "In front of us."

Hector nodded, "You feel him?" Precognition and being able to detect where people hid, Nils and his sister seemed to be born supporters.

Nils's nose twitched, "I sense him."

"Same thing." Nils wordlessly shook his head at Hector, smiling tightly.

Hector slowly pulled himself up on one knee, raising the other, foot flat in the dirt, to provide him ample momentum when he struck. He placed Wolf Beil on the ground, and pointed into the grass, looking at Nils, and receiving a nod, dove close to the ground and into the shield of grass.

The mage landed with a surprised grunt, and struggled. It was useless; Hector was a large young man and heavy with muscle and armor, compared to the mage's light clothing and slim form. Hector quickly raised one hand, the other keeping the mage from opening his tome – and how it was burning into Hector – gripped his face and twisted it sharply to the left. There was a sickening crack of bone, and the man was dead.

"Just how Oswin said," Hector said, under his breath, staring into the man's glassy eyes. "Easy to do, and hard to shake." Finally, the burning of the tome became too much and Hector got up, and walked back to Nils.

Nils was watching him and got up, too, asking, "Did you get him?"

Hector bent down to pick up Wolf Beil, studying the bloody edges, and turned around, walking away from the dead man's place of rest. Nils followed, thankfully not parting the grass to see. Hector did not know why he wanted Nils to not see the dead man, when he had already seen two others die more sickening deaths, but just that it felt wrong.

"Are you alright, Sir Hector?" Nils asked, frowning in concern up at him.

"Yeah, kid, got him." Hector grinned at Nils, "Heh. Don't fret, boy, he didn't do anything to me. I'm fine."

"… Sir Hector, shouldn't we still cover ourselves?"

Hector blinked, and rubbed the back of his neck, "No. We haven't been attacked yet. They must have been sentries." Hector cleared his throat, "Means we're getting close."

"… Yeah, I remember it's past that small reach of forest. And a few watch towers after that."

Hector nodded, inhaling deep, feeling his spirits rise.

Nils suddenly grabbed his hand, "Sir Hector?" Hector, startled, nearly moved to tug away, but then Nils did before he could. Hector stared at the tear-stained, snot-covered handkerchief.

"Here. You can use it, if you need to."

Hector scowled darkly, "Bah! I gave it to you, I don't need your cloth!"

Hector would have snapped some more choice words, but caught a look at Nils's watery eyes.

"What, what-? There, see," Hector gave the handkerchief back, "That's why I gave it to you. I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean to snap."

Nils shook his head, sniffling, "I'm not crying cause of that."

Hector shifted his shoulders, uncomfortable, "Then, why are you?"

"I'm crying because you aren't."

Hector concentrated on his steps and the trees in the distance they were walking toward.

By the time they reached the woodland, it was Hector who caught a feeling of dread, and he thought quick, pulling Nils behind a thick trunk. The reason being, Nils's being emotional over Hector, still.

"Listen, kid, I'm fine," Hector hissed under his breath to Nils, "But right now, you have to stop. I'm certain I told you to cry later, and you agreed."

Nils wiped his face again, tears still rolling down it, a never-ending cycle for the past hour.

"You didn't complain before."

"I'm complaining now."

"I'll stop, when you admit that you're hurting inside about what you did in the grass."

Hector's face heated and his temples throbbed, but he gritted his teeth and withheld himself, because Nils's eyes were so red and cheeks blotchy, they just about matched the kid's eye colour.

"… I'm hurting inside." He finally said, almost rolling his eyes.

"Mean it. You took your hands and killed him, and it hit you deep, more than any other kill you ever did, because you felt it-!"

"Okay, okay, okay!" Hector hissed, feeling a chill wrap his throat. "Truthfully, yes, I felt… it felt like it weighed me down. He was my enemy, a man just like me, but he broke like a twig. But it wasn't something I wanted to do… that way, at least."

Nils rubbed his eyes, tiredly, "I believe you. Don't you feel better, now?"

"Whatever you say, boy." Hector no longer felt that chill, at any rate. "Now, we no doubt have a few men in the trees, and I'm going to trust you to take care and follow me, alright?"

Nils smiled, and with a last wet sniff, he nodded.

"Okay, let's go – ah!" Nils gasped and shoved Hector away. Hector fell to the ground on his rear. There was an ear-splitting bang, along with the echo of bark splintering and Hector's heart raced.

Hector looked up, "Nils!" He swallowed, then.

A huge lance had been thrown at and through the tree he'd been arguing with Nils behind. Nils was fine - Hector calmed his heart - and staring up at the lance a few feet above his head, looking relieved. Hector was too. If he had still been standing there, his throat would have been impaled.

He stared at Nils, who looked shortly down to meet his gaze. "Thank you. I owe you, and many times for this day."

Nils hummed, "No, we're even now."

A voice called out to them.

"You should never have dodged, hero. Still, give him up, and I may be merciful and deliver you a quicker death." Hector wanted to bang his head against the tree. He'd forgotten to remind Nils to keep his hood up.

Hector snarled, standing up, leaning to the side to avoid touching the lance.

"I'm not a hero, but I am fit to be tied, Black Fang!"

"Ah…" The voice drawled, amused. "So, you know who you fight, my, my."

Hector wanted to roll his eyes, but his anger won out over annoyance.

"You think murdering, thieving, kidnappers like yourself are something? You aren't anything – you're nothing."

"Calm down, calm down, Mr. Fit-and-About-To-Be-Tied," the annoying man sounded closer, and Nils shivered. Hector placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, hand readying Wolf Beil.

"Sir Hector..."

"Quit stalling, if you want a fight, say so. I'm more than ready for you."

"He's…" Nils squeaked and went silent.

Hector's head was quickly tilted to the left, and he felt the stinging bite of a thin dagger to his bared throat. A man's arm was wrapped around his chest.

"Now…" The man whispered into his right ear, chin on his armored shoulder, "… that we're all comfortable, let's exchange some pleasantries, hm?"

"How did you-?" Hector started and winced when the blade bit more, blood welling and trailing down.

"Oh, dear me, I thought you said you knew me." The man chuckled.

"I meant I knew of Black Fang, not you."

"Well, isn't that a shame – I like it when I'm known. It makes things that much easier. I love it when the noble blood gives in." Hector suddenly felt something warm and wet slide and lap at the wet trail, all the way to the edge of the dagger.

Hector sneered, "Freak happen to be your name?"

"Hm, afraid not. Sorry to disappoint."

Nils suddenly, spoke up, "You don't mean any harm."

Hector stopped breathing, and so did the man behind him.

"I didn't feel you." Nils explained, looking at Hector's shoulder and at the man that he could not see. "I feel danger; I can sense it deep in my bones. It's especially attuned to Sir Hector, and you didn't even register as a threat to him, either. Let him go, let my sister go, please. You're a good man. You're not like the others – they stink of shadows, spirits, and blood."

"And that's where you're wrong, little boy." The man was thrumming with tension, "I am bloody, blood of innocents and the tarnished – I've tasted it all."

"You've spit it out, later," Nils returned, "All of it. And you've washed yourself until your skin bled, and you re-washed, because it was still on you, you felt it, and you hated it, when before you loved it. You want out, now. It's different, alien. You –"

"Get out!" The man hissed, "Get out of my head, demon."

A bellow erupted from Hector, and he shoved off on his feet, purposefully letting his weight carry him down. He hit the ground alone, surprised and winded.

He got a good look at the man, staring down at him impassively, and stumbled up, wiping his throat.

"Nils, find some cover." Nils was shaking his head, furiously, "Now." With a defeated look, Nils did, ducking behind a tree a good distance away from accidental injury, pleading,

"Please, Sir Hector, don't kill him."

He was a slight man, if tall, and Hector asked before he could stop, "How did you throw that lance?"

The man smirked, saucily, "Practice… How do you wield that hulking weapon, big guy?"

Hector smirked back, "Practice." Hector stepped forward quickly, bringing Wolf Beil down in a controlled arc. He only hit the tree behind the man, as he flitted away, so quick that his eyes could nearly not follow.

"Oho… good one," The man replied, idly fingering the tip of his dagger. "Almost tickled."

"You'll be tickling a lot more, when I'm through with you, cur."

The man faux-pouted, but his half-lidded eyes glinted coldly. "Now, now, that's not nice, at all. You should be more courteous, isn't that how you're trained, like all noble dogs are?"

Hector spat, "I'm different. Always have been, always will. I follow my own road, and I don't care who digs their heels in and tries to stop me – unlike you." Hector ran Nils's words through his mind. "You want out, I can appreciate that – for a murderer with no values, you certainly have a golden seed in that heart. But, get out, then. Quit whining, it won't get you anywhere."

The man's face went stoic, "Easy for you to say, bastard noble."

"Knew my mother and father were bonded, thanks. And you aren't the only one who has suffered, we all have, one way or the other." Hector was having a difficult time keeping to Nils's wish – he had to hand it to the man, he knew how to push Hector's buttons without knowing them.

"You know nothing of me."

"I don't have to." Hector replied, easily. He jerked his head to Nils, "See that child over there?" The man only raised an uncaring eyebrow, not looking away, "I've only known him for a few hours, and I trust him more than I've ever trusted a mere stranger. A close friend, even. At least, I don't have to watch my back around him, wonder if what he says is double-bladed. Wonder if what I eat isn't poisoned around him, if he's a hissing siren or a singing viper." Hector relaxed his grip. It was foolish, but he tested the man, trusting Nils, showing he did. "I trust him and what he says, because he's honest. And no demon." Hector still burned at that accusation, because Nils's eyes had not been hurt.

He watched the man slowly relax his shoulders, dagger lowering. Hector nodded at him, when the man's violet eyes remained watchful and intense.

"… I'll admit that… Sir Hector." The man gave a laugh, "Alright. Hm. My, my – well, I was looking to switch sides, soon, anyway. Talk about good fortune."

"For who, you?" Hector noticed Nils moving out from behind his tree, toward them.

"I think… both." The man smiled, and inclined a head at Nils, who carefully placed himself beside Hector. "Sir Hector, I would join you, if you would like."

Hector was not expecting that. "Why?"

The man shrugged, closed his eyes, hand on a tilted hip, "What can I say? You and the boy's words moved me… and, because I empathize with your past, I'll be honest. Help me, and I'll help you. I can get in, grab the girl and get out with ease. In return…" The man opened his eyes and half-smiled, "I want full protection given to a vassal of Ostia, Sir Hector."

Hector wanted to grumble, because that bastard was just pushing it, especially in Nils's earshot – he enjoyed hearing 'Sir' instead of 'Lord'.

"You have it. We just want his sister free and well… But I gave him a promise, too, I intend to keep it."

"Hm. What's that?"

"I'll make sure the Black Fang won't be able to come after him and his sister, again." The man tensed up, "So, after this is all done… you'll burn your clothes. Keep any sentimentals, but you'll take anything you used in the guild of the Black Fang, and rid of it. I'll clothe you until we reach Ostia, and then you'll wear what you want, use what you want, and be how you want."

"But as a vassal." Hector nodded to him, and the man laughed, "How simple this all is. If it had been anyone else, I'm sure I'd be… close to death. I agree to rid myself of the Black Fang's mark, then."

"Alright, then," Hector placed Wolf Beil back in his harness. "Let's go… uh, what's your name?"

"I fear for Ostia, if you –" The man stopped himself when Hector gave him a look, smirking, "Oho… well, by all means, very well. The name's Legault, formerly of the Black Fang, and formerly known as the Hurricane." Hector tried to recall where he heard that name before, but could not place it at the moment.

Legault brushed lavender hair behind his shoulder, and winked, "Nice to make your acquaintance, Sir Hector and on more personal terms, little Nils. Now, now, Sir Hector, be nice." Legault drew away, chuckling, when Hector made to step forward, glaring.

"I'll make nice if you stop talking to me like that."

"Someone's insecure."

"Quiet."

Nils tugged on Hector's arm, "Here, Sir Hector, for your throat." He held up his vial of vulnerary.

"That's for you, Nils. I'm fine." Nils studied him for a moment and returned it to his side.

"Okay, Sir Hector."

The pair of two became three, and somehow, Hector felt the situation was growing a bit more than a simple kidnapping. These siblings, they were special, Hector felt.

Hector reminded himself that he was just aiding to test his mettle against strong opponents, but…

"Hm. I actually haven't met his sister face-to-face, is she cute?"

Hector glared, "Hey. She's to be unharmed, and that means unmolested, too." Nils spoke his agreement, eyeing Legault.

"My, how darling. Already shining up that armor white? You'd look good in that colour, too."

"Legault –"

"Brings out that sky in your eyes."

"Are you two flirting?" Nils asked.

"No."

"Oho, good instincts, little Nils."

"Legault!"

Uther had complained, a few times to Hector about Matthew being fresh with him, but at least he had that rat for a vassal and not a flirt.

A.N.: YES, I changed the title. It didn't fit. Anymore. Well, Hector was SORT OF dancing in battle, with those spins in the beginning, but that wasn't exciting. THE NEXT will feature a big battle though. TIME TO GET NINIAN! XD