As his finger traces along the small black lines denoting roads and trade routes on a map of Adrestia, Zane's eyes can't help but flick to a nearby portion they would pass by on their journey north.
Unbidden, memories rise to the forefront of his mind, some happy, most not.
Despite having left the region over half a decade ago, the hurt has yet to fade, and he doubts it ever will. Some things, as he's come to learn, stay with you until the end.
A deep sigh leaves his lips as he leans back and moves the candle he was using for light off to the side of his desk. For a moment, he ponders how he arrived where he is now, the lieutenant of a successful mercenary group returning to Fódlan from an extended stay in the Brigid Archipelago.
He's made several friends and killed more enemies than he can hope to count. A brutal lifestyle, and often a callous one, yet he has carved his own pocket of happiness in that world of pain nonetheless.
For who knows how long, he simply sat back in his chair, lulled into the depths of his mind by the ever-present, yet somehow calming, creaking of wood and sloshing of waves, thinking on days long gone by.
That is, at least, until a knock on the door breaks his cycle of reflection.
Glancing over, he lightly sighs and scratches his head before standing, careful not to fall victim to the swaying vessel as it traverses the seas. Opening up, he's surprised to see Gráinne, her hands fiddling at her front.
"Can I enter, Zane?" she asks, batting her gray eyes at him prettily.
"O-of course."
Quick to move aside, he can't help but stutter as he replies.
Smiling, she swiftly walks inside, examining the room, and especially the bed, under the flickering candlelight. Sitting down on his perfectly folded sheets, she looks back up at the ginger.
"So what you doing? It was being quite a while that you were on the deck."
"Nothing too interesting, just looking over some maps of the Empire," he replies, returning to his stiff chair.
"For Cornelia?" she asks after a moment of contemplative silence.
"Yes, she hired us for a lengthy job. It's honestly rather excessive for a single woman if you ask me, but as long as she pays, then there's no issue."
His comment hangs in the air as the Brigidian woman seems to think on her next words. In no rush to hear her reply, Zane simply admires how the light frames her captivating features and flaming hair.
"What… what are you thinking of me, Zane?" she eventually asks, her quiet voice carrying a surprising hesitance.
"What do I think about you?"
Taken aback by the sudden line of questioning, the ginger scratches his head. A perhaps easy answer rises to the forefront of his thoughts, but as he goes to open his mouth, he observes the young woman's intent gaze upon him and swiftly rethinks his brash thoughts.
His mind churns, more restless than the sea just outside their vessel.
"That's not an easy question, Gráinne," he says finally.
Glancing back at the young woman, the look in her eyes prompts him to stand and go sit next to her on the bed. Now being so close to her, he picks up on an intoxicating scent that sends shivers down his spine, but keeps himself firm as he locks his gaze with her own.
After a moment of thinking, he opens his mouth.
"At first, I was drawn in by your beauty. In all honesty, I've never seen a more attractive woman than you. The stunning and captivating crimson of your hair, the way your piercing gray eyes frame your darker and perfectly contoured features… and well, your body…" he trails off, admiring the way her face lights up with soft smile before continuing, "Then, once we stuck up a conversation, something about you just drew me in. Your cheerful attitude and the intellect you displayed captivated me. It still does, and I don't imagine that will ever fade. Not to mention that owning your own ship is no easy feat, and I'm beyond impressed by you for it. Simply put, Gráinne, you've bewitched me."
As soon as the last words leave his lips, he's tackled to the bed while a slim pair of arms wrap around his neck in a crushing hug. No longer as shy, Zane's arm similarly coils around her soft and lithe waist, enjoying the feel.
They lie like that for a few minutes, savoring the warmth of the other's body. Eventually, Gráinne raises her head to look him in the eyes, her face framed by cascading carmine hair in a way that takes his breath away.
She studies him intently for a moment, then the most beautiful smile he's ever seen on her begins to blossom. She says something in Tuatha then, and for once, Zane finds himself unsure as to her meaning, though it certainly sounds nice.
Perhaps noticing his confusion, a beautiful giggle escapes her lips as she leans down and lightly kisses his neck. With each press of her cherry lips on his skin, a tingle of pleasure shoots through the archer's body. Then he feels her warm breath against his ear, and as he begins to drown in the pleasant feelings, she says something that takes him a moment to process.
"Let's marry, my sweet Zane."
Realizing that no, he did not imagine those words, he gently pushes up on her lithe waist. Getting the message, she raises her head from the crook she had found in his neck and props herself on her elbows over him.
"What did you say?" he mutters, already knowing the answer.
Gráinne playfully narrows her eyes as her fingers begin to subtly play with his hair.
"I say let's marry."
Surprise darts across the young man's face.
"That's-"
"Just listen," the Brigidian interrupts.
"I am being a maiden of the water, that's what tattoo on my arm is representing. For those of us that swore to spend our days in two-faced ocean spirit's embrace, we are acknowledging, and are promised, that we will find our destinies here. I believe that you my destiny Zane. For no one else my entire life have I felt the things that I feel with you, and I refuse to let you slip away, like the tide come morning."
Gráinne's serious confession leaves Zane at a loss for words, but the young woman doesn't rush him, instead continuing to play with his spiced hair while watching every expression flickering across his face.
He eventually seems to come to a decision and gently pushes the girl off of him until they're both seated on the bed once more. Taking a deep breath, he reaches over and takes her hand.
"Listen, Gráinne, this is not a step I can take lightly. Something like this would change our lives forever, and I can't give you an answer without seriously taking the time to consider it. I care about you and I love what we've found so far, but-"
The gray-eyed beauty cuts him off anew, her voice raised and tone firm. "But what, Zane of Adrestia? I am loving you and you are loving me, I know it. Is that not being enough?"
The ginger squeezes her hand a bit harder, "No, of course it is. But I am on my own path, and you are on yours. I simply don't see how it can work the way things stand."
For a long moment, the air feels tense between them, but it relents as Gráinne releases a light sigh, continuing to stroke the man's hand in hers with her thumb as earlier.
"Your reason and intellect are so frustrating sometimes, but it's also one of the reasons I feel for you the way I do," she says as she reverts to her native language.
Staring at him hard, her gaze softens, and she reaches over to yank him by the collar, planting a firm kiss on his cheek.
"Well then, let's talk it through."
The archer chuckles, "Sure."
Wiggling around to get comfortable on the bed, the sailor eventually rests her head against the wooden wall of the ship, patting the spot next to her with a light smile. As the young man settles in next to her, she decides to begin.
"As I have said, I am a maiden of the sea and am bound to it. I have promised the spirits to live for and through them and cannot abandon this oath. If we are to marry, I would prefer that you join me here on my ship, where we can spend the rest of our lives traveling and seeing the world."
Turning to look at him, her eyes are nearly sparkling as she thinks on the possibilities.
"Imagine it, we can go and do whatever we like. There are so many places that I know you'd love too, like Morfis. I've heard tales of ancient magic and beings thriving in its desert, while the city itself is said to contain towering buildings made of crystal that reach into the heavens themselves. We could go there together, and that would just be the beginning!"
Zane allows himself a moment to consider that, smiling at the image and the surge of excitement that shoots through him, but ultimately, he softly shakes his head.
"This is what I was referring to, Gráinne. I'm part of The New Dawn Mercenaries. Jeralt counts on me, and Byleth wouldn't have anyone to teach him properly if I left. I can't just abandon the only family I've had for the last several years."
Another steady silence washes over them before the ginger asks a seemingly simple question.
"Would you abandon your ship and blooming trade profession to join me on Fódlan's roads and inns?"
The young woman's face involuntarily scrunches at the thought, but before she can respond vocally, Zane places a steadying hand atop hers.
"I would never ask you to do that, Gráinne, I know how much all of this means to you. Similarly, I need you to understand that I'm also too rooted in my current life to easily discard it. Please, don't ask me to, in the same way I wouldn't ask you."
The olive-skinned girl is quick to reply, "Of course, Zane, all I want is our shared happiness, I wouldn't want you to do something that goes against that…"
Grasping each other's hands like a lifeline, the two blooming adults contemplate how they can make a shared life between them come to fruition.
"What if…"
At Zane's quiet voice, Gráinne turns her gray eyes brimming with hope upward to meet his.
Licking his lips, as if still not entirely convinced of what he's about to say, the freckled man opens up.
"What if we both go our separate ways for a few months," her hand uncomfortably tightens its hold on his, "before reuniting. We could marry now, but wait as I wrap things up in my homeland prior to coming back to you. Or converse-"
Before he can continue, the passionate Brigidian swings her body around to straddle him, her nose coming to rest inches from his own as she peers down at him with excitement.
"Really, you'd do that?"
"Well, yes, but-"
He doesn't get a chance to continue as Gráinne dives in like a predator eying prey and captures his moving lips with her own. Tightly grasping his shirt in her fists, she engages him with a previously unseen passion that seems to ignite the room.
For a long time, they stay that way, as if air is an afterthought and all that matters is the person against them. When they finally separate, a comfortable yet heated understanding of sorts is left to fill the void.
Ultimately, the island girl is the first to break the newfound stillness.
"Unions formed in the cradling arms of the ocean spirit's embrace are unbreakable, Zane of Adrestia."
Leaning down, she lovingly rests her forehead on his own, gazing into him with a blazing devotion that takes the young man's breath away.
"I promise that you will have my love until my body rejoins the sea and my spirit roams free once more. No," she rethinks, "you will have it even then."
Reaching up, she runs a gentle hand across his cheek, gray orbs not leaving his hazel ones for a second.
"I will stand beside you no matter what may happen. I will bear you as many children as you desire, just as I will bare my fangs toward all your enemies. I will be everything you need of me and more. I will be your wife if you'll have me."
For Zane's part, he's feeling slightly overwhelmed at the present moment. There are still many things that he needs to contemplate, things that he needs to speak with this wild beauty about.
But, as he gazes into her ashen orbs and witnesses the fervor within them, as well as the conviction behind her words spoken in that foreign tongue, he can't find it in himself to refuse or delay any longer. Instead, he finds himself suffused with an incredible want, not only physically, but for the life alongside her that is being promised. With that blazing thought on his mind, he leans upward, increasing the pressure on their connected brows.
"And I, will do my utmost to give you everything you desire, to be your rock in whatever storms we may find ourselves in. If you'll have me, I would be your husband."
Hearing his declaration, Gráinne's lips blossom into a beautiful smile while she nuzzles against the forehead opposite her.
"Don't forget what I said, husband," she says, testing the word in a way that sends tingling down his spine, "that unions made amidst the mother's embrace are unbreakable."
Moving her head to the side, her breath tickles his ear in a whisper of promise and finality, "You are mine, and I am yours, until the waves come to reclaim us."
Then, leaning back and shifting her weight in a way that causes Zane to become hyper aware of the way she's straddling him, the island woman swiftly removes her shirt, revealing the sparse wrapings underneath. Grinning provocatively, she runs a hand along his chest, her nails leaving a trail of pleasure on his skin even through his attire.
"Now," she says slowly, "what was it that a man and woman do on the eve of their marriage?"
Blinking prettily, Gráinne's face morphs into a surprisingly accurate picture of innocence while she tilts her head to the side. The desire in here eyes, however, could not be contained.
"I'm not sure I kn-"
Her words morph into a surprised yet excited yelp as she's quickly rolled over and firmly pressed into the sheets by the hazel-eyed man atop her.
"I believe…" he starts, "it's similar to what we did the other day."
Leaning down, he can't resist the temptation of teasing her back and lowers his mouth to her ear.
"Don't worry, we can learn together," he whispers, hands beginning to wander up the warm skin of her waist.
Soon, he takes a firm hold of something with a bit more heft, eliciting a breathy gasp that rings in his ears like the sweetest bells, "We have all night after all…"
Not long after, Zane's room is home to sounds of laughter and love, all the while the young couple's bodies mimic the rise and fall of the waves, the push and pull of the tide, as they join together for the first time, cradled tenderly by the sea.
***
Staring out into the open ocean, it's almost frightening to behold how dark it is, like a void of nothingness beyond the reach of the scarce light emanating from aboard the wooden vessel.
Oh, there are moments here and there, when the moon and stars will peak through the clouds above to shed some illumination upon the blackened waves, but the goddess's watchful eyes seem a bit bashful tonight, and so darkness reigns.
It's moments like these that remind Jeralt just how small he truly is. For all of the unbridled power beneath his skin and the weight of years unable to topple him, in the end, he's only a man.
A man who, in this moment, feels unsure of his place in the world.
He's a father, sure, and a leader of men to boot, but those duties do not, cannot, stop the doubt that infects him as he looks out upon the open ocean and sees not a land to travel to, but instead a ship stranded in the blackened waters of a road that has only just begun. There are so many unknowns that lie in the future, coiled and waiting.
In truth, these worries have nothing to do with himself. Jeralt… he is perhaps not quite ready to die, having yet to feel secure about Byleth's future, but beyond that… he does not have much to live for either.
These worries, then, are not for himself, an aging relic ready to be forgotten, but for that very same son that keeps him filled with some sense of purpose and direction. The amount of difficult truths and variables that will need to be overcome in the coming years are far too many for comfort, and it is their presence that has him worrying. A burden he carries gladly for his remaining family in this world, yet crushing nonetheless.
These recent failures, though he has come to accept them, take their toll. However, he will carry on. He must, for he has no one else to fall back on.
As these myriad thoughts rampage within him, the former knight lets none of it show, instead silently gazing out beyond the watercraft while drinking from the bottle in his hand, a few like it lying empty at his feet.
"Can't sleep?"
A soft voice sounds from behind, disturbing his fruitless spiral of thoughts.
Turning, he finds Cornelia gazing at him, arms comfortably crossed in front of her. Giving a soft nod of acknowledgment, the mercenary captain replies while turning back to the blackened waves, "I'll sleep better when we're home."
A soft hum echoes from behind him as light footsteps on the deck come to a stop beside him on the railing.
"I share that sentiment, Captain."
He gives a sidelong glance at that.
"Jeralt will do lass, as I told you earlier. You're not one of my own, so no title required."
Blinking at him, a small smile graces her lips as she responds, "Sir Jeralt, then."
He snorts at that, but a twitch of his mouth betrays the man's amusement.
After that, a comfortable silence descends between them as they each listen to the sound of the waves and their ship sloshing along.
"May I ask why your band of men were present in Brigid, Sir Jeralt?"
Torn from his thoughts once more, Eisner looks back over at the young woman across him, her own gaze still focused on the sea and long, melon hair slightly fluttering in the breeze.
At his lack of response, her bright aquamarine eyes flick over, briefly matching with his own. Perhaps seeing something there, she sheepishly tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear while amending her words.
"Forgive me if my question was inappropriate, I was simply curious."
Seeing the awkward look, the former knight lightly shakes his head.
"It's all right, I was slightly distracted. As for your question, it was actually Zane who planned the job at the time. I was simply along for the ride, more or less."
"I see…"
Another quiet emerges between them for a time, though on this occasion Jeralt finds himself studying the member of the fairer sex beside him.
Their long discussion earlier in the day gave him some semblance as to her nature, but he wouldn't have gotten to where he is today without proper scrutiny of his would-be employers.
Cornelia, for her part, strikes him as an odd one and with her own fair share of mystery to befuddle the common man. To him, however, her book is not so tightly closed. Put simply? She's a surprisingly young woman with a noble demeanor and means, fashioned yet polished all the same.
Oh sure, she looks and acts the part, but he can easily discern that she wasn't bred in the lap of luxury, no matter how much it would have suited her. Her's is an earned elevation, if what he glimpsed of her magic is any indication.
It's strange to him, then, that she would be so far from Fódlan by her lonesome. Not exactly advisable for any woman, even one of her presumed ability. That's what youth and a naive view of the world will get you, he supposes.
Watching as the admittedly gorgeous girl passively rotates a subtle flow of magic in her palm, he feels compelled to say something, uncomfortable with letting a child go unaware of certain dangers after his own son's recent experiences.
"Cornelia," he starts, his voice carrying a hard edge of seriousness.
Reacting to the tone, she turns and gives him her undivided attention, magic dissapating and a ready and constant smile on her lips.
"Yes, Sir Jeralt?"
"It may not be my place to say, but this can be a dangerous world we live in. For your own safety, I wouldn't recommend traveling somewhere far by yourself, especially somewhere so… foreign."
She tilts her head questioningly, "I thought that I had made it clear I was interested in hiring your services?"
The flaxen-haired man shakes his head.
"No, I'm not referring to your trip to Faerghus, it's about Brigid. You seem like a wonderful young lady, and you have the face of an angel to boot, but that just makes it all the more dangerous for you. You never know what some men on the road might try when they see someone like you alone."
Blinking up at him, she seems at a loss for words.
Sighing lightly while scratching his head, he leans an arm against the railing.
"Look, I'm just trying to say that you should look out for yourself a little more. Wouldn't want anything to happen to you."
Cornelia's face shifts through a few different emotions as she processes her words before she lets out a light breath and looks back into his eyes.
"I…" she swallows her words and lightly shakes her head before giving him a soft smile and a lighly curtsy, "thank you for your consideration, Sir Jeralt, I will take it into advisement."
Chuckling, he turns back to the water.
"That's all I ask for, kid."
"Kid, huh…" he barely hears her mutter under her breath.
Glancing at her, his lips twitch again, though he doesn't say anything.
As they let the silence build anew, her soft voice drifts into his ears after a time.
"You're not the first to tell me I should be more careful, Sir Jeralt."
Shifting his attention back to her, he sees her staring out into the sea while absentmindedly fiddling with an object in her hands.
"My trip to Brigid…" she continues after a moment, "it was for a deeply personal matter."
Tightening her hands, she sighs before pocketing the object, which he notices is some kind of wooden animal. Then, shifting her weight onto one arm, she turns her body to look at him, a small flame alighting atop her open palm and illuminating her slight frown and downcast eyes.
"It wouldn't have felt right to make the journey as the wealthy Mage, Cornelia Arnim."
Saying so, she extinguishes the flame with a clenching of her fist and matches his gaze.
"Instead, I simply needed to be the young woman, Cornelia. I knew the risks, but it's what I had to do."
"I understand. We all have things that we need to do alone," he replies with a nod.
"Also, Cornelia, enough with all the thanks. If anything, I should be offering my thanks for taking care of Byleth today, he seems to be quite taken with you already, though I'm not surprised, the beautiful woman you are."
Her mood quickly lifts from the previous doleful note, and a light dash of pink warms her cheeks while she eyes him.
"How many times is it today that you've complimented my beauty, Sir Jeralt? One might think you're as taken with me as your son is."
At that, he can't help but laugh, a warm smile finally forming.
"I'm just being honest, young lady. Besides," he shrugs, "affairs of the heart aren't meant for old men like me."
Tilting her head, she looks at him quizically, again examining his frame.
"Old?" she mutters. "You're still quite dashing if you ask me…?"
Then, as if realizing what she had said, her face quickly turns a shade brighter while she averts her eyes. Clearing her throat a moment later, she turns back to look at him, the attempt at seriousness in her demeanor still betrayed by the flush on her cheeks.
"W-well, in any case, it's my honor to spend time with Byleth. I've always had a soft spot for children, let alone those as well-behaved as he."
Smiling warmly, Jeralt nods his thanks.
"In that case, please continue to watch over him if you remain with us on your journey north. He's been through a lot lately, so a friend is exactly what he could use. Again, thank you, Cornelia. It means more to me than you know."
Under his gaze, she seems to unravel a bit, shyly clutching handfuls of the dress at her sides.
"O-of course, it's my honor. Well, it's getting rather late, Sir Jeralt. I believe I'll turn in for the night. It was a pleasure talking with you."
Quickly curtsying, she attempts a noble nod in his direction before quickly turning and walking away just a bit faster than one would imagine of a proper lady.
Chuckling as he watches her disappear into the ship, Jeralt turns his gaze once more toward the open waves, now illuminated by the bright moon overhead. Half empty bottle forgotten beside him, he enjoys the oddly warm sensation in his chest, his thoughts serene as he enjoys the beautiful night.
*****
That's all for this one, folks! A more relaxed chapter that's pushing some bonds closer. Romance will be present in this story, as it's honestly one of my main motivating factors for writing this to begin with, but I'll strive to develop it all naturally and respectfully.
Regarding adult scenes, I haven't yet decided on what to do, though that's not something that will come up for a long time, as if I did write them in depth, it would only be with Byleth. Any other characters that have relations like that can just get mentioned or cut away from, as shown with Zane here.
Regarding Gráinne and Zane, I had actually initially created her as a throwaway character to showcase Fódlan's conservatism, but I liked her too much and this is the initial result. Obviously, their relationship has developed rather quickly, but to me it's logical: they're young, they live in a medieval world where waiting forever isn't necessarily an option, especially for travelers like them, and lastly, they just really hit it off.
Jeralt and Cornelia had a simpler moment of bonding where they became more comfortable with each other. Something may be there, something may not. Time will tell.
Anyway, hopefully this chapter was interesting. I'll see you in the next one!