you are my shining sun

Chapter 1/?

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Fandoms: Fire Emblem: Shadows of Valentia, Fire Emblem: New Mystery of the Emblem

Relationship(s): Zeke/Tatiana

Additional Tags: Strangers to Lovers, Falling in Love, Slow Burn, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Summary:

Year 604 (Archanean Calendar) In the land of Archanea, revolution is silenced. King Medeus of Dolhr conquers the continent and claims the Shield of Seals and the Falchion, ending any and all rebellion. General Camus of Grust, after failing to protect his lover, Princess Nyna, flees with his young prince and princess for the land of Valentia—a place where he hopes to secure their safety. Upon finding them a home in Zofia, he discards his name and takes up the life of a mercenary, seeking to mourn his love in solitude.

Year 398 (Valentian Calendar) In the land of Valentia, war is brewing. Desperate in the midst of a famine, Rigel crosses borders, breaking Duma and Mila’s Divine Accord. Vicious Terrors begin to terrorize the people. In the chaos on the Rigelian side of the border, brigands raze the bountiful plains. A young village cleric by the name of Tatiana, mourning a recent loss of her own, struggles to help her people through hunger and injury. A difficult solution presents itself to her alone—and yet for Tatiana, there is no cost is too high.

Year 399 (Valentian Calendar) Outside the walls of her quiet Rigelian village, a young cleric finds a wounded mercenary.

It reeks in the Holy Kingdom of Archanea.

When Camus returns, it reeks like death and ruin. The sky is still blue, though, and he finds that the white roses are still blooming. Yet, he finds the putrid scent lingering thick in his nose, deep in his throat, as he makes his way through the streets of Pales. It’s disgusting, foul, and he cannot breathe.

He knows why it smells of death, even if he does not want to know.

The guards open the gates of the Millenium Court for him, each offering him a polite, “General Camus.” He ignores them as he marches through the white-cobblestone courtyard.

It’s clear to him he’s been deceived, and also clear that he has realized as much too late. The fatality of his own error makes his heart pound in his chest. He knows, he knows, because he thinks he felt it, the very second they harmed her. His hope that he is wrong is little, and he feels, more than anything, angry. Angry, and his hands are shaking.

He strides past Reiden, who stands diligently at the entrance to the palace. His officer falls into step with him, but is quickly left behind. It doesn’t stop him from calling after, “Captain, how do the prince and princess fare? Sir?”

Roberto is leaned up against a wall, fiddling with something in his hands. He sputters out, “Sir, I- Sir!” when Camus passes. As usual, he is far from eloquent with his words. The tone of his voice says everything, though. Camus wishes he did not hear that note of panic.

And then there is Belf, standing guard right at the entrance to the throne room. Belf, with white skin and big, frightened eyes as soon as he sees Camus coming. He opens his mouth and a desperate string of, “I tried, I tried to do something, oh gods, I tried to help her, but I couldn’t-!” comes out.

Camus stops in front of Belf and stares up at the large, silver doors. He regards them for a moment, his heart in his throat, and then replies with only, “Aside.” Belf scrambles to open the doors for him.

He steps into the dim light, and there is a coffin in the throne room.

The blood in Camus’ body goes freezing cold. He feels the back of his knees begin to weaken, and he so nearly falls to them. The coffin is grand—at the least, they afforded her this dignity, this white marble, this gold, these gemstones. It sits there, heavy and final in the middle of the throne room, and it consumes so much of his being in that moment that he barely notices that there is anyone else with him. He doesn’t pay them any mind. He keeps his eyes on the coffin, but doesn’t approach it. His legs are numb. His fingertips are cold. There is a pounding in his head and a fierce burning behind his eyes.

That feeling he’d had in Khaedin, that ice-cold feeling that something in the world was suddenly wrong, had been all too right.