I don't have any answers for you.

He flinched as Ephraim shouted at him. Ephraim’s hoarse tone combined with the ever-present mocking in his head, he felt surrounded. This wasn’t how this was supposed to work! He was supposed to get Ephraim to Grado and then everything would be painful.

“I’m sorry,” he choked, “You’re right I… I didn’t think… anyone would care. I’m sorry, I took the mockery of the court to mean everyone hated me… I should have known you felt otherwise… I’m sorry.” He still couldn’t quite believe it but… perhaps everything was a lot clearer when the demon wasn’t actively trying to communicate with him.

Lyon watched as Ephraim reached for him. What was he doing? What was he saying? Why wasn’t he being oblivious and going on about Eirika again? How did Ephraim’s mind even work? How was he supposed to control -?

"Do you understand now?" he murmured, not letting go of Lyon as he spoke. Up close, he could see how tired Lyon was, how wrong his eyes still somehow looked. He stroked Lyon's hair gently, hoping it was somehow a comfort despite the state he'd been forced into. "I'm not going to let you die." 

His mind was racing -- Lyon had kissed him back? And pulled him closer, too... everything seemed even more complicated than it had before. It might have been a bad idea, but there was still a strong urge to do it again. He lingered close, trying to fight it off; they didn't exactly have time to roll around between the ancient roots, not with Eirika in peril. 

"Are you selectively oblivious or…or is the thought of being loved by me really that repulsive?!" 

He hadn’t meant to say that aloud. He hadn’t meant to say anything. He didn’t want to continue that topic and yet… damn Ephraim! This was all his fault! First he had ruined his plan and now he was making him far too honest. He deserved the demon’s laughter right now, Ephraim had turned him into such a fool!

"I’m not trying to string you along," Not in the ways you think I am. “I don’t want you to hurt either…it’s just… I said, I admire you far too much, more than is normal for someone who…! I won’t die on you either…however much He wants me to.” 

He wanted to roll over, cover himself in his cape and sleep. That would free him from this humiliation. However Ephraim was right, they needed to go to Grado to find Eirika and whatever else lay there. 

He made no effort to stop himself from shouting anymore, letting the edges of his voice go ragged and hoarse. 

"You started all this thinking your life didn't matter, right? That's what you told me, and you never even stopped to think for even a moment that anyone might miss you. My father is dead, my sister is missing, the Stones are lost, my homeland is likely overrun by now in my absence. If you die, I have nothing left."

He reached for Lyon, not sure if he meant to help him up or just feel him, be reminded that he wasn't alone out here in these awful woods. 

"I didn't realize it until after you took the stone from me, and everyone else had decided... there was nothing left we could do to save you. I realized then.. I..." 

“I..I suppose we could have married one day… though… I don’t deserve to be loved by either of you. I mean!  I mean…I want, well, I didn’t , don’t only love Eirika… I mean! I’m sorry.”

He had to change the subject right away. This was not a time to look so foolish.  He had to lean away from honesty or they’d never get anything done.

“I don’t hate you for being close,” he managed, “I suppose… I was a little jealous. Of the closeness you shared when I felt alone…and I was slightly jealous that you were both so talented. However I could never hate you for that…I admire you both too much.”

Lyon curled up a little tighter as if that would better defend himself from the feeling of awkwardness that seemed to ally itself with the cold in an effort to make him uncomfortable.

"It's fine. Forget I said anything. You want to see Eirika again, and so do I. That's all that matters, right?" 

He stared up at the sky, trying to discern the direction they'd travel. Grado would be south, and... he couldn't seem to focus. He paced back and forth, trying not to mull over what Lyon had said, exactly. It didn't matter. Eirika mattered, and saving Lyon mattered, and ending the war mattered. That was all. 

"When we see her, you should tell her. You should tell her what you told me... without... probably without what you said about me. You don't have to lie to Eirika to string her along like me, right? She's been through too much already. You can't die on her. Think of it that way." 

"Sometimes it was me talking and…then the demon would take control mid-way through so I didn’t know if those words were mine… I would want… I do want to say kind things to you, but would you believe it was me and not the demon trying to fool you?”

Not untrue…Lyon decided to settle for ‘partially true.’ He liked Ephraim’s concern, having the power to turn that voice gentle, to make Ephraim approach him after being apart for so long. To make Ephraim feel things for him… It wasn’t a plan but it was wonderful to have such attentions.

"I’m really sorry if it seemed like I was trying to hurt you… I didn’t want to. I would never want to hurt those I hold so dear." 

Well, Ephraim had believed everything he had said so far so why not?

"I understand," Ephraim answered. He kept a safe distance, hoping not to crowd Lyon. "I... I wondered, for a while, if maybe I was wrong, maybe I didn't know you as well as I thought I did, and it was really you, angry at me this whole time. But I don't think that's true. You... you love Eirika. I know that. I should have seen it a long time ago. I always assumed you two would marry, but..."

He had to phrase carefully. Hardly his strong suit. He'd only gotten worse after so long alone, largely in silence. His throat chafed and scratched from talking after so long.

"But... to hate me because she and I are close... I don't think you'd do that. Maybe... you'd resent me, and he took advantage of that. If he made it look as if you hated me, then I'd stop trying to save you. That could be it."

Ephraim shivered slightly. The chill in the air seemed to cut right through him. He'd grown accustomed to barely sleeping, barely eating, but Lyon there reminded him of how long it had been since he'd slept well himself.

"Even if you did hate me, I'd never stop. I'd go to hell and back. Because... you'd do that for Eirika, right? It's the same."

Good enough. Ephraim rested his head on his knees and sighed heavily.

His reasons would go unlisted for the sake of progress. He put his head in his hands as he tried to ignore the steady stream of laughter that filled his thoughts. It was as if the demon thought this plan, whatever it turned out to be, couldn’t possibly turn out well. Just like he’d tricked him into believing that last plan! Or…had that just been Ephraim’s pessimism and love for ruining his life? He still didn’t know.

"I don’t think he would." His voice became rather trained as he tried to think through what had once been a brilliant plan.  He sounded upset even to his own ears. He had been so certain. So sure! He hadn’t had the need, or occasionally the capability, to doubt. It was going to work!

There was a chance Ephraim would notice if he got too upset though. Instead of sitting cross-legged, he raised his knees so he could rest his face against them. Looking at the darkness of his muddy robes made it easier to think. Was that plan a trap? Was his great designs just another way to use him? He hated the idea as much he hated Ephraim for suggesting it. 

"All of what you said to me was a lie?" he asked, keeping his voice gentle and moving closer still. He wanted to reach out and touch Lyon now, but he wasn't sure it was a good idea with him huddled like that. 

"I am glad. I think…I would also grieve if you were lost to me even though He would enjoy it very much. All this hatred is his, is it not? You are trying to stop him so he filled me with his hatred."

How easy would it be just to shove all his negativity into a box labelled ‘demon’. Occasionally the hatred would seep out, there was too much of it to be contained, but what if he did just that? Pretended he was whiter than white, full of hopes and dreams whilst it was the demon that shredded them not his own thoughts?

He wasn't sure what to say in response to Lyon's question Lying felt wrong, but telling the whole truth would be dangerous. There had to be some balance to it.

"Of course you're allowed. I think... if they're good feelings, then they're yours. The demon wouldn't add something good to your mind, right? And...." 

Maybe it was better to be reckless. It had served him well enough. 

"I’d like to be free of his laughter, I’d like to know what I am, what is me. You seem to know better than I do." Ah, this was it, Ephraim was so desperate for what he thought Lyon was, he would follow him to Grado in the hope of having ‘his’ Lyon back. Who knows maybe they could take on the demon together. Even if Ephraim did all the work…people would still call him a hero. Heroic Emperor Lyon…hmm. For the here and now however, he adopted an imploring expression.

"Of course I would grieve," he answered, his voice even despite his panic. "I would, because... the real you is kind, gentle, compassionate, intelligent. You're everything I'm not. This war, all of this destruction, the way you taunted me before about my father... That wasn't you. You'd never do that. You'll remember soon, I know you will."

Was this helping? He couldn't be sure, but Lyon's smile was so familiar, the way he remembered it. Maybe honesty would bring more of that back to him.

"Ephraim," he said, "Do you know what it’s like to have something thrust its thoughts into your body so you can no longer tell what’s yours and what is madness?"

He made an act of pressing his finger-tips to the side of his head.

"Because…that’s what this is. Emotions, plans, opinions, are they mine? Are they his?" He began to laugh, a small sad sound as he began to see the humour in his situation. Ephraim had ruined everything and now, despite all that planning he was back to square one again with nothing. He had actually managed to believe in himself this time, who would’ve thought? Yet it was all for nothing. He had done so mcuh but amounted to.. nothing. The futility of it all was amusing him.

"Lyon -- whatever of Lyon is in there -- listen to me. You don't have to die. All this hurt and confusion, that's... that's all the demon, right? It'll be gone soon. I'm sure of it. All we have to do is defeat him and you'll be free, all right?" 

Despite his words, he found himself inching backward, away from Lyon. He hadn't felt so helpless in a long time. 

He focused on the act of clenching his hands and letting the scars show clearer - evidence of when his little sacrifices hadn’t been quite as clean as he would have liked. However tight Ephraim held him, he couldn’t meet his eyes any more. He looked everywhere but at the shouting man before him. Why did Ephraim have to do this? He had been so certain. So sure he was doing the right thing. He had been confident, for once in his miserable life he had known he was pursuing the right plan all the way to its logical conclusion, even if that was death. He was going to do the right thing

…and here Ephraim was. Not content to be stronger, more moral,  a better ruler, warrior…a better everything! Not content to forever cast him into shadow but then to deny him the darkness when he wanted to make use of it!  The worst thing about it was the doubt Lyon felt. The crippling worry that this was indeed one big trap. Ephraim probably right, and Lyon hated him for it.

"We aren’t turning back.. We can’t turn back. What does it matter if I die if it means we can save Eirika? You’d rather she be alive than me right? She’s your family. Of course you would." That hysterical note was back and he was resisting the urge to hit, cry on, kiss, cast at… The target of all his emotions was Ephraim and they were proving tough to control.

"I don’t have any family left. All the generals who served my father are dead or traitors. The nobility will send killers after me. The people will blame me if I cannot fix their country. Kindness cannot stop their homes being destroyed! Their livelihoods wrecked. I had a solution and…and…"

Why was he getting louder?

"Go alone, then," he snapped. "I won't be complicit in this. It's... it's suicide. The Lyon I know wouldn't do this. He wouldn't say these things. And I refuse to stand by as you make a mockery of him and his ideals -- as you make a mockery of me, and of my sister, after all this. I'm leaving."

His voice rattled through the forest, loud enough that anything in the area would hear him, but he didn't care. True to his word, he turned away from Lyon and kept his usual pace in the other direction, trying to resist the urge to slow down or wait. 

It was an especially cold night, with fierce winds whipping through Ephraim’s clothes, cutting down to the skin. He shivered, thankful he was alone, and tried to keep walking.

He had no idea where he was, no conception of how far he’d gone at this point, and his sense of direction from the stars was failing him. And on top of that, the old wound winding up his leg was always aggravated by the cold, and by travel. As far as he could see, there was no one in sight, but still, out of pride, he tried not to limp.

His efforts failed as he hit a stray tree root, hard, and collapsed to the ground.

Humiliating, he thought, remembering how strong his strides used to be. He scrambled at the bark of the tree that had caused the fall and jerked himself back up, trying to ignore the tenderness in his leg, but found he couldn’t quite hold himself up without letting go.