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Frederick had drawn first watch.
This was not a coincidence. Frederick was in charge of making the watch schedule, after all, and there was nobody he trusted more than himself to look after his friends and companions during that crucial time when they were still exhausted from the day’s traveling and fighting. (There was also nobody he trusted more than himself to take second watch, either, or third, or fourth, but the Exalt had put a stop to that after Frederick had fallen from his horse mid-march. So, the big knight was reluctantly forced to spread out the watch shifts at least somewhat. He still ended up assigning himself at least double what the rest of the Shepherds got, though.)
Things were quiet, or at least as quiet as things ever got around their camp. Anyone spending any amount of time with Ylisse’s supposedly most elite force was required to revise their definition of quiet to include the clanking of armor, the clashing of training swords, Gregor’s booming laughter, Virion regaling anyone who would listen (and many who wouldn’t) with tales of his own exploits, and Sumia tripping over something, probably something vital, and sending it crashing to the ground.
Though, now that Frederick tore himself away from contemplating the utterly barren countryside long enough to realize it, that last sound was suspiciously absent. Had been absent for several hours. In fact, the skilled but clumsy Pegasus Knight hadn’t knocked over so much as a single tent or pile of shields since they had made camp that day.
Which, logically, could only mean one thing – Sumia wasn’t actually in the campsite.
The big knight allowed a tendril of worry to creep through his usually calm, ordered thoughts. There was no reason for the gentle woman to not be present - she had participated in the day’s combat, so her mount was not in need of additional exercise, and her aforementioned contributions meant that Sumia had not been assigned to the scouting or foraging teams. Which meant that she had gone out, for an unknown reason, without telling him and probably without telling Lord Chrom or his strategist wife either.
He had to find her, now. Else he had failed his duty as first watchman, and would no longer be worthy of filling the position. And should that come to pass, whom could he trust with the sacred duty? Gaius? Would abandon his post as soon as he smelled sugar. Lon’qu? Utterly useless if any bandits or brigands attacking their camp happened to be female. Cordelia was usually reliable, but of late she had been devoting far too much time to making eyes at that farm boy husband of hers. Sully had the same problem regarding Kellam, and Tharja….gods, why had he even considered that option for more than a second.
The worried knight turned to see which Shepherds in his vicinity might possibly know where Sumia was. Gregor and Lon’qu were sparring, which basically meant that both men were dead to the world. Lissa and Libra watched the combatants, their gentle faces full of concern, staves at the ready in case either of the overeager participants accidentally wounded the other. The Exalt leaned against the side of his tent, ostensibly watching the duel but about every other minute not-so-subtly glancing adoringly at his wife. Said wife had her head buried in a tome of Ylissean lore, long green hair falling over her face like a curtain, oblivious to the frequent gazes of both her husband and the dark-haired, dark-minded mage pretending to be brewing a potion. The tableau was completed by Gaius, who was sneakily rifling through the fixated mage’s potion ingredients in search of anything remotely sugary.
Frederick sighed. None of his comrades-in-arms had likely even noticed that Sumia was missing, let alone seen her go. Meaning it was, as it always seemed to be, up to him to figure out where she had gone. Given that they were currently camped somewhere in the middle of the hill country west of Ferox, with plenty of rolling slopes and stands of scraggly trees to search through, that wasn’t going to be an easy task.
He snuck another glance at the still-oblivious Exalt. Lord Chrom would discipline him for this, surely. (Or rather, he would forget to discipline him and it would fall to Frederick to come up with an appropriate chastisement for himself. Ylisse’s blue-haired leader had become suspiciously forgetful about reprimanding the knight for his lapses in duty ever since he had failed to inform the Shepherds’ tactician of the bathing schedule, resulting in an unfortunate incident that somehow resulted in the pair’s current wedded bliss.) Sumia was not only a beloved friend to all, but also one of the Shepherds’ most valuable fighters – and, more importantly, one of only two capable of fighting in the air. Perhaps more importantly, she was one of their few decent cooks. (The big knight still shuddered at the memory of the strategist’s well-intentioned but ill-fated carrot stew. Because she was his royal lady, he had choked down every drop from the proffered bowl. He had spent the entire night retching helplessly, and the next day had been so weak he had lost to Donnel in a sparring match. Worse, a certain taguel had abandoned her usual stony glare to smirk at him, all the while guzzling the soup as though it were Elixir) If something had happened that had injured her or her mount, the hearts – and stomachs – of the entire Shepherd force would suffer for it.
Though he knew intellectually it was entirely unproductive, an unhelpful part of his brain insisted on supplying a large selection of possible dangerous fates for his gentle friend. She could have tripped over a rock and gone sprawling into a ditch, breaking both legs and rendering her unable to mount her pegasus. Or been kidnapped by bandits or deserters from the Plegian army. Or ambushed by a horde of thousands of bees bent on revenge after she had stolen an entire hive as a present for Gaius. She could have been sucked through a rift in space-time into an alternate dimension and gotten caught between two warring factions and forced to wed a woman who eerily resembled Tharja. Perhaps she had caught Kellam’s invisibility powers like some strange disease, and was walking around camp unnoticed, desperate to find a cure before they marched away tomorrow, leaving her behind in the dust!
….Or she could be striding triumphantly over the small hill in front of their campsite, an immense bluish-green dragon following meekly behind her like a lost puppy, her pegasus bringing up the rear, ears flat against his head, the expression on his long equine face oddly reminiscent of Lon’qu when in the presence of women. Had this situation not been unfolding itself in front of his very eyes, Frederick would have dismissed it as a fantasy more ridiculous than the one about Sumia dimension-hopping and marrying an alternate Tharja. He blinked twice. Three times. Four. The dragon was still there. The knight was unfortunately forced to acknowledge that this wasn’t a hallucination brought on by overheating or breathing in the fumes from one of Miriel or Ricken’s “experimental” potions. This was actually happening.
“Hi Frederick!” Sumia called cheerily, waving at the first watchman as though she were returning from a completely ordinary walk. “She followed me home. Can we keep her?”
Frederick’s brain short-circuited as though he had just weathered a critical hit from an Elthunder spell. Words completely failed him. Luckily, the Exalt managed to tear his eyes away from his wife long enough notice Sumia and her new….er, friend.
“Sumia,” Chrom’s voice was steady, as a ruler’s should be, but his face displayed a mixture of bafflement and slight fear. “Is….is that a dragon?”
“The technical term would be ‘wyvern’,” a cool, inflectionless voice remarked from somewhere to Frederick’s left. The knight turned to see Miriel peeking her head out from her tent. Frederick wondered what had taken the analytical mage so long to appear, given that she usually had a sixth sense for whenever anything odd or interesting was about to occur around camp. Unfortunately, the knight’s careful observation skills did not allow him to overlook her askew hat and slightly mussed hair. A moment later, the head of a blushing, entirely hatless Ricken appeared beside hers, and the watchman turned away, attempting to suppress a blush of his own. He made a mental note to ask Libra how one might go about becoming certified to officiate marriages – the poor cleric was quite overworked lately, what with the number of Shepherd couples following their Exalt’s example.
“Yes,” the Pegasus Knight responded cheerily, ignoring the mage’s interjection.
The big knight finally found his voice. “How did you…erm, encounter this…..” He faltered, not quite sure which word to use, finally settling on a compromise “dragon looking beast which is technically a wyvern?”
She blushed, running a hand nervously through her long hair. Behind him, Frederick heard Gaius splutter at the utterly adorable sight of the sweet woman blushing. “I heard a strange noise, so I went to investigate. She was lying next to some rocks and blended in pretty well, so I didn’t see her at first, and I…erm….Itrippedoverher.” The last words came out in a rush, but the knight was able to parse her meaning well enough. Judging from his look of shock and her low chuckle, both Lord Chrom and his wife did as well.
There was a lengthy, awkward silence as the Shepherds attempted to process what they had just heard. The watchman noted that the number of observers had significantly increased, drawn by either the sudden cessation of noise or the sight of the immense beast. Frederick noted with pride that both Sully and Stahl had moved to stand between their lord and the new arrival, while Maribelle had placed herself squarely in front of Lissa. Vaike had come running up, axe at the ready as though he intended to fight the beast, but was currently being restrained by the odd duo of pale-haired dancer and dark-haired taguel. Cordelia was attempting to comfort Sumia’s pegasus, who was clearly unhappy with the interloping dragon’s presence, while her pot-wearing husband rather unhelpfully held out a carrot. Kellam, it seemed, had been there the entire time. (The big knight did not fault his own observational skills for failing to see his friend until the quiet man had stepped into position to protect the Exalt’s wife. He had long since accepted that Kellam’s powers of going unnoticed trumped even his own keen eye.)
It was the always blunt Sully who broke the silence this time. “You tripped,” the cavalier deadpanned. “Over a dragon.”
“Hey! I didn’t trip anyone!” A new voice added itself to the conversation. Frederick turned to see Nowi, returning from the foraging expedition he had dispatched her on earlier to keep her from trying to light the campfire with her own breath again. Despite the significantly more pressing matter of Sumia’s new friend, he was pleased to see that they had returned with a large pile of wild vegetables and fowl – though, somehow, the cheery manakete had ended up carrying none of it, while behind her a hapless Virion struggled with the entire load.
“SUMIA! You found me a friend! A dragon friend!” the eternal youth shouted, bounding towards the immense creature without a second thought. Frederick moved to restrain her, despairing as he knew he could not keep up with the manakete’s speed. Luckily, Lon’qu got there before him, hoisting Nowi bodily into the air by the back of her shirt and dropping her into Maribelle’s arms with a look of obvious distaste. The aristocratic woman seemed slightly at a loss as to what to do with an armful of squirming manakete, so she settled for holding Nowi in place while the ancient creature whined about “just wanting to say hi, and also assert my dominance as the alpha dragon”.
“Wyvern,” Miriel corrected, adjusting her glasses.
“What are we going to do with it?” The practical Stahl voiced the question on everybody’s mind.
“Let me at it!” Vaike squirmed, trying to wrest free of the two women’s grip and failing.
“Her,” Sumia corrected, sounding somewhat offended.
“Tarnation! It bit me!” Donnel wrung his hands together, glaring at Sumia’s pegasus, who now had a carrot stem dangling from his mouth. “What’s this one’s problem? Yours likes me just fine?”
“That’s because we’re married,” Cordelia responded with an affectionate roll of her eyes.
Frederick tried to think of anything to say to defuse the chaos that was quickly descending over the Shepherd’s camp. The knight could not, however, and was forced to simply stand there, rapidly swiveling his head back and forth as just about every member of the quirky army began talking at once.
“The Vaike just wants to fight it!”
“I just want a dragon friend!”
“Wyvern.”
“Gregor think perhaps dragon-wyvern will make tasty dinner for Gregor and Gregor’s friends?”
“Don’t you DARE think about eating my new friend, you big meanie!”
“Nowi! Ladies do not bite other ladies!”
“I’m not a lady, I’m a manakete!”
“Ahem, I wonder if perhaps someone might tell me where to put this food down….”
“Perhaps I could curse it away, hee hee hee….”
“Ow, ow, ow, darn and blast it, why does this darn thing hate me?”
“AHEM!”
The loud throat-clearing cut through the noise, quieting even the squirming Nowi and the overeager Vaike. Silence once again reigned, and Frederick turned to witness his deliverer. He was not surprised to see that it was the Shepherds’ tactician, her tome finally abandoned as she stood, arms folded, her contemplative gaze fixed on Sumia’s new friend.
“Sumia, did you notice any signs that other wyverns might be present in the area? If she has a mate, or a family, it is our duty to return her to them.”
The Pegasus Knight shook her head. “She was all alone,” she admitted, her face downcast. “There have been bandits in this area recently, so if she had a mate or a family, I think they’re….gone….”
The tactician’s husband cut in, having seemingly recovered from his initial shock enough to join the conversation. "Well, we could leave some food for it, then. Help it survive until it meets up with other wyverns?”
“This is not normal territory for a wyvern,” Miriel objected. “They prefer mountains and rocky areas. It’s likely this one was taken from its home along with her family, but managed to escape while passing through here.”
“If we leave her here, she’ll die!” Ricken came to the emotional conclusion that his stoic partner had neglected.
“Indeed,” the green-haired strategist affirmed. “It seems that the best solution for all of us involved is to take her in ourselves. Wyverns can be trained and ridden in battle. She would serve as a valuable asset while also being able to continue her life safe and well-fed.”
“That’s an excellent suggestion, my dear,” Chrom responded in that utterly smitten way of his. Had the situation been less stressful, Frederick would have allowed himself a small smile.
“Uh, yeah, but do we have anyone here who knows how to ride a wyvern?” Lissa pointed out, waving her hand in front of her brother’s face as though to bring his head out of the clouds.
“I have a wyvern rider employed in my service. I could easily summon her here to train whoever takes on the responsibility.” Frederick blinked – the world really must be ending. Had Virion just said something useful?
“Thank you, Virion.” The tactician smiled at the blue haired archer. “That would be quite beneficial. However, the question still stands as to who will take on this role. Sumia—“ the Exalt’s wife smiled at the clumsy knight. “as much as I can tell you want to volunteer, I don’t think your pegasus would appreciate that.” She indicated the creature in question, who was currently occupied with attempting to eat Donnel’s hair through his pot-helmet.
Silence reigned. Though they all saw that the tactician’s suggestion was a good one, but nobody seemed ready to volunteer. Frederick supposed he could not blame them. The wyvern was huge, and though Sumia was currently engaged in lightly stroking its neck scales, none of the others felt particular confident in their ability to approach it without losing at least a few fingers.
Nowi attempted to raise her hand, but Maribelle held it down firmly for her. The ancient manakete was enthusiastic enough about the position, but the Shepherds had been witness too many times to her forgetting such simple things as “don’t go into dragon form on a stealth mission” and “the rest of us don’t eat our meat charred black” to trust her so completely with the care of another being. Sully and Stahl were trying to not-so-subtly push each other forward, Kellam had gone back to being invisible, and Gregor was trying to somehow compress his entire bulk into the small space behind the blushing form of Tharja.
Frederick sighed internally. It was as he feared. He was going to have to volunteer. The big knight was ill-suited to the position – he was more than a little shy around non-equine animals, and what he possessed in raw muscular strength he rather lacked in balance and agility. But he was the Exalt’s sworn knight, and the strategist was his royal lady. She had given a command, and it was up to him to fulfill it.
The watchman was seconds away from raising his hand when an unexpected figure stepped forward, head held high and deep brown hair falling over her shoulders like a curtain that separated from the world. Her expression was as grim as always, yet Frederick felt he could sense great sorrow in the taut line of her shoulders and her reddish, downcast eyes.
Wordlessly, she strode past Sumia, placing one strong hand on the wyvern’s snout. As the Pegasus Knight stepped away to give the two space, the creature snorted, pushing her nose further into the taguel’s touch.
“It’s okay,” the usually taciturn woman murmured, her voice gentler than Frederick had ever heard it. “I get it. I lost my warren, too. I know what it’s like, being alone. But I….I like it here. I think you will too.”
With a sound that could only be described as a happy sigh, the immense wyvern laid her entire head on Panne’s shoulder. A soft, gentle noise came from the lapine woman; it took even Frederick’s usually sharp brain several moments to realize that Panne was laughing.
“Well, my dear, I guess we have our new wyvern rider.” Touched by the soft display, the Exalt wrapped a loving arm around his wife. The tactician’s small smile could only be described as knowing, causing the big knight to wonder if perhaps she hadn’t foreseen this outcome all along.
The assembled Shepherds observed the moment of joyful peace together, loved ones reaching for each other’s hands or resting heads on shoulders. Gaius turned a furious crimson when Sumia clasped one of his hands between both of hers, and even Tharja tolerated one of Gregor’s muscular arms around her slender waist. A smile of his own gracing his usually stern face, Frederick watched the Shepherds enjoying their brief respite, feeling himself relax at last…
…until he turned back to look at Panne, who had thrown her arms around the wyvern’s neck as the reptilian creature gave her long rabbit-like ears a thorough licking. It was…well, it was utterly adorable, and Frederick felt his face turning as red as Cordelia’s hair as he realized exactly how quickly and how far he had fallen for the taguel woman. The knight sent a silent look of apology towards Libra as he realized that he might very well be the next Shepherd adding another wedding to the harried priest’s already jam-packed schedule.