It was another late night of working for Ephraim. He hadn't slept much the previous night, and it looked like this night would be the same. The dim flicker of the candlelight danced across his letter to Carcino's ambassador, the one he'd redrafted four or five times now to be perfect, just one of the many he still had to work on.
At least he was home. The everpresent chill of Grado Keep was anything but welcome this late at night.
It was far too late for any average visitor, and yet, there was a slow creak of the floorboards near his door and a quiet knock at the door.
"Come in," he called, trying to disguise the fatigue in his voice, though he knew it'd be plain on his face.
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Two: My muse will get down on their knees for your muse
Not actually that NSFW, but under the cut so it doesn't take up space.
Heâs nervous and awkward. His hands shake whenever he wants something but heâs too scared to ask. Sometimes he frightens her. She canât help but wonder if this is always what happens when your demon leaves you. Was Lyon always like this or had the loss of his unnatural power left him such a wreck? There were people who knew of course but how was she to summon Ephraim to ask him without revealing she had his precious friend at her beck and call? The kindest thing to do would be to take Lyon home through the Outrealms. However she has seen Magvel now and it is a horrific place. This frightened ex-prince would not last amidst those monsters
He calls her mâam and your ladyship and when she tells him not to, she is still Miss Allium. A darker part of her loves the authority, the respect and fear it contained. Â Â When she is with Lyon, she is not a puppet of destiny, she is in command. She can weave flowers into Lyonâs hair or ask him to repair her tomes, she can ask for anything and Lyon will still adore her. She is the only comfort he has received since coming back to life. She is the only person who could possibly understand what he has been through and he will do anything to please her. He once accidentally called her Eirika and almost cried in guilt when he realised his mistake. Â Allium gently told him she did not mind. She is honoured that she is held in the same esteem as the twins that mean everything to him.
The guilt fades day by day. Lyon is so eager to serve and it makes him happy if she lets him. Before they retire for the night, if Allium has no desire for anything else at the time, Lyon will get on his knees before her and kiss her hand, as if she were a princess.
Allium can't say she's especially surprised when Ephraim drinks at the tavern they stop at, hard ale like the kind Chrom wouldn't touch. He insisted earlier that he hates the lack of control, the fear that comes with it, but in a way, maybe this is her fault. In a time like this, she's not sure how she'd cope herself.Â
He still smells like wine when they turn in for the night and he staggers into her bed, blearily-eyed and slurring.Â
"I just... just wanted to fix things... just..."Â
He grabs for her hands, her face, her hair -- she freezes at first, then lets him talk and move as he likes.Â
"The worst king... worst friend... I'm... the wors, couldn't save anyone, couldn't... can't... "Â
"No no no, shhh-- " And maybe she's had a bit too much, too, because despite all those frightening possibilities of playing in the outrealms, she touches him back and brings their faces together. She thinks it's him who kisses her, but it doesn't matter who went first. Within seconds it's mutual, hands fumbling through sheets and robes and royal armor.Â
She touches his scars as he pushes into her, grasps at his hair and whispers her own apologies between quiet moans that they share. They're both going to regret this when they wake up, but for the moment, it's a safe little farce, one that ends in gasps and shivers and something Allium thinks sounds like a sob muffled into shoulder.Â
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Iâve no way to send this into your future except by the way itâs always been done. If you should find this tucked in this little history book - I know you had this one - then I suppose itâs fate that you should read my words. If not, then itâs the same. These words might be destined to be lost. Thatâs fine.Â
I was harsh with you. I had to be. You know firsthand now some of what I faced. I thought I could somehow change things, but it seems I was never meant to have the same sort of chances others did. Itâs just as well.Â
Iâm dying now. Thereâs no reason to pretend Iâm not. You probably have the date yourself in one of your books. It might be tonight. I canât say just yet.Â
But I donât want to be remembered as just a passage in a stale old library. Thatâs selfish of me, isnât it? I ought to be a footnote in history. I have failed so many people. Itâs not my legacy I seek to protect. I care not if people think I am a failure of a king. That, after all, is the truth.Â
If you can, though, I want you to tell them what was dear to me. I want my sisterâs legacy to shine. I want it to be known that I believed in her wholly. And Lyon. I imagine the damage is already done, but I want, more than anything, for your future to know that I treasured them both as well as my kingdom. That is the legacy I want, as a king, as a man.Â
As for our friendship â perhaps you ought not write that down. I think people might find it strange. Keep it close to you, if only for my sake. It was important to me. Iâd like it to live on, even though I do not.
You might be considering going back to this time to catch me somehow, but itâs like you said. This is the path Iâve been set on. For me, there are no new beginnings or second chances. Rest well. I am at peace.
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There were some familiar faces in the crowd. She wanted to call for Azur, but she didn't want to ignore everyone else! The dancer bows her head lightly, keeping her voice quiet yet clear so the others could understand her.
"H-Hello. It's nice to meet you, and it's nice to see you again." She gives a nod and a soft smile to those she already knew.
