Work Text:
Normally, a journey to the mountains would mean peace, or even excitement, but tonight, the unrestrained wind seemed to bite Aki through her armor and leave marks of apprehension in its wake. She surveyed the jagged peaks looming as far as one could see in the starlit darkness, not for the luxury of the sight, but to watch for Nohrian enemies who would encroach on the camp. Though she and the other Sky Knights typically worked in teams, now her comrades lay asleep to rest for the coming march as she held her post on the night watch. Aki didn’t consider herself afraid of the dark in the slightest, but regardless, the unknown always felt a little more scary when one had to face it alone.
She stood with her eyes focused in the shadows, and the wind pressed silence into her ears. As the gust calmed and she paced between the tents with methodical steps, naginata in hand, only the crackle of the Hoshidan camp’s fires and torches burning into the night could be heard, accompanied by the regular thud of her own heartbeat.
By now, she was used to the typical layout that their nocturnal bases might take on given the size of the deployment. So at first, when she noticed an unexpected glow at the periphery of her vision, she tensed. But as she turned to face the source, the bright reds illuminated by the small campfire told her that it was unlikely the signal of a Nohrian intruder. The hunched silhouette of Rinkah briefly came into focus.
She was seated so that the flame cast a gentle light on her profile, and she stared intently into her smaller fire as Aki froze several paces away. But even in the softness of the light, crimson stripes stood sharp over her cheekbones like talon marks, and her red eyes reflecting the color of the fire held their piercing focus, unwavering. Following her gaze, Aki realized that she was watching something within the fire—something off-white, like paper. The paper’s edges curled into a burnt brown as the fire clawed at it, slowly but inexorably. And Rinkah’s eyes remained fixed, as if committing the entire process to her memory.
Only the sound of Aki’s footsteps, still cautious, but slightly less reserved, alerted Rinkah to the other’s presence, and her eyes locked with Aki’s for just long enough for the Sky Knight to understand that her presence had been noted.
Though Rinkah’s gaze returned to the flame in only a split second, Aki felt a rush of shyness up through her chest and face, as if she had been watching something secret. Swiftly, she averted her eyes and took mental refuge once again in the darkness. In the short time that Rinkah had been with the Hoshidan ranks, Aki had observed that the Flame Tribe Warrior seemed to prefer to be left alone where possible. Even now, Rinkah had staked out her satellite fire a short distance away from the main camp, rather than tending to the larger fire at the camp’s center. Perhaps it had something to do with the burning paper…
As she lost herself in her thoughts, Aki retreated behind one of the tents. She found herself slowly drifting toward the fire that marked the heart of this section of camp. She had been so preoccupied with night watch that she hadn’t realized her hands were gradually losing feeling in the alpine cold. She stopped herself a generous distance away from the fire, quietly shifting the position of her hands on the grip of her naginata to try and get herself some of the feeling back.
Just as she was about to start again toward the perimeter to continue her watch, a figure emerged from one of the tents. By its height and its reserved silhouette, Aki identified the silhouette as Jakob, the butler who could be so often found at Corrin’s side, and he acknowledged her in a hushed voice as he approached. With a brief bow, Aki faced him, and he offered to relieve Aki of her shift with an understanding wave of his hand. Aki nodded gratefully, not even needing to watch him continue on his predetermined path to feel reassured—it wouldn’t take anyone more than a couple days’ casual observation to learn that Jakob was the main contender for “biggest night owl out of anyone in the army.” Now with no particular destination, Aki turned back to the radiant warmth of the fire.
Yet, though she had been relieved of her immediate duties, Aki found that she felt little desire to sleep. The darkness engulfing their oasis of light seemed as if, at any moment, it might call forth enemy troops from the next bend in the mountain path, or summon a flock of wyverns to descend upon them from the star-flecked skies. Though she tried to concentrate on the fire’s warmth, her sight drifted repeatedly to the expanse of the mountain peaks and valleys beyond the soft light’s reach. All the while, her heartbeat pounded in her skull, unwilling to be quelled even as she tried to turn her conscious thoughts away from tomorrow's imminent battle.
A popping sound broke the nighttime silence, far too close by for comfort, and Aki let out a yelp, hushed just in time, and readied her naginata reflexively. She scanned her surroundings and focused her ears. But after a quick breath, she had determined its source: the blazing fire in front of her. She held her breath for a moment more, straining to hear if she had falsely alerted any of her allies. But no significant response came, and she let out her embarrassment in a long exhale. Carefully, she took a step back from the fire, as if it still lay in wait to lash out at her.
Maybe she did need some sleep.
Her pulse refused to slow as she visually tracked the movement of the flames, so instead, she turned her gaze to the starry sky, hoping to find some mental respite. Her thoughts trailed back to Rinkah, intent on her own fire separate from the rest of the camp. What had she been doing? She had remained poised with her eyes fixed on the fire, almost as if anticipating the movements of another living being. And she had sat so close to the flames—without a fragment of visible fear, as if by some unseen power she knew just where the boundary lay to avoid getting burned. Meanwhile, Aki found herself trying to stay as far as possible from fire while still absorbing its warmth… Even if Rinkah wasn't inclined to open up about it, her prowess left an echo of fascination in Aki's core.
Aki let out another slow breath from deep in her diaphragm. Finally her nervousness, and the numbness in her frigid fingers, had begun to subside. She dragged her feet just a little as she turned, feeling the soft mountain soil shift under her riding boots, and then she began her short walk back to her tent.
She opened the flap with measured movements, careful not to wake its inhabitants. Her eyes failed to adjust entirely to the enclosed darkness, but in her mind's eye she knew her fellow Sky Knights occupied the interior. As she retreated to her own sleeping space, she allowed her allies' presence to comfort her nerves further. Finally—even though going to rest would mean that when her eyes opened again, there would be battle—she felt safe. And as she deftly removed her armor and reclined on the rough ground, the cold snaking its way into her clothes underneath, she listened closely, one last time: her heartbeat had finally slowed, as if placated by the warmth of an ember.