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"Seize the princess!"
"Don't let her get away!"
Grado soldiers pour into the throne room from all sides, the castle becoming a minefield of bodies as servants rush to escape, unknowing or uncaring that their friends lie dead at their feet. Seth grabs Eirika's arm and hoists her up onto his horse, ready to carry her to safety. However, they barely manage to advance before a throwing spear finds its mark, crimson staining the the marble walls. Eirika's eyes grow wide with horror at seeing the famed Silver Knight dispatched with a single, well-aimed javelin. In a panic, she turns to the throne where her father once sat, only to find it covered in dark red blood. There, the king's dead body lies, a sword protruding from his chest. The sight causes the princess' terror to grow a hundredfold, the man she had always felt so protected by lying limp and lifeless on a bloodstained piece of furniture that used to symbolize his reign. No one will protect her now. The realization hits her like a punch to the gut as Lyon's cold hands close around her wrists, his mutilated face mere inches from hers. The wraith's mouth opens wide to reveal two rows of long, pointed teeth. He leans in even closer, mouth opening wider, prepared to devour her bit by bit and--
"LYON!" Eirika screams, jolting awake in bed.
Her eyes dart around in the darkness, desperately searching for a sound, a sensation, something to confirm that she's still alive and hasn't been lost to the endless void of death. Said confirmation comes when she hears the frantic pacing of her heart, alongside the feeling of sweat clinging to her skin the way morning dew clings to a leaf. She turns on her bedside lamp trying to reorient herself. It was just a nightmare, Eirika, she tells herself. You're safe here in your room. Even so, she can't shake off the paralyzing fear and confusion she had felt seconds before. She knows her father was too strong to be killed by a few measly soldiers, and one javelin could never take down Seth, but the night terrors made her wonder if her memory betrayed her. She scolds herself internally for the idea. You lived through a war, killed a centuries-old demon, and now a silly dream has you questioning reality? If the people of Renais saw you like this, they'd surely-- The princess' thoughts are cut short by a knock on her door.
"Eirika?" Someone calls from outside her quarters.
Eirika is about to reach for the dagger she keeps under her pillow, but she freezes when she recognizes her twin brother's voice. He must have heard her screaming and woken up. Great, her stupid problems had inconvenienced Ephraim, of all people.
"Well done, hero," she whispers under her breath.
The sound of Ephraim knocking again, louder this time, brings her back to
"Can I come in?" He asks. His question sounds hushed, like he's trying not to alert anyone else to his position.
Eirika hesitates. She doesn't want to keep Ephraim awake any longer than she already has, and she hates herself for waking him in the first place. Still, talking to him might help with the nightmares. She knows he wants to help, he is her brother, after all. So she opens the door and invites him in, almost reluctantly.
---
The first thing Ephraim notices when he enters Eirika's bedroom is the state of it. Every surface in the normally spotless room is covered with dust, books and clothes are strewn everywhere, and her armor is a disorganized pile in the corner. This isn't like her. The messiness, her quiet demeanor, the way she perpetually averts her eyes as if simply glancing up would cause Fomortiis to return. He's losing his sister to the grief that's eating her alive, and for the first time in his life, he feels powerless. Powerless to help Eirika when she needs it most. Powerless to ease the despair she's kept hidden for far too long. Ephraim is unaccustomed to this feeling, but he loathes it with his entire being, this strange helplessness that's more intimidating than any enemy he's ever faced. It's like being stranded on an island with an array of supplies, yet none will help him build a raft. The war had provided so much knowledge and experience, but every drop of it feels useless now, and it's all so wrong. He's always had some kind of power, some kind of control. In the heat of battle, he was always armed with the certainty that he could outwit his opponent somehow, and that was a more powerful weapon than any spear. But the opponent he's currently facing is stealthier, more cunning, and it won't be fazed by a well-placed stab. The challenge feels insurmountable, but he has to try for Eirika's sake. This fight is winnable, just like any other, so why does it seem impossible to even speak?
The silence in the room is quickly becoming unbearable, but to Ephraim's relief, Eirika soon breaks it.
"I apologize for the mess", she says with a soft sigh, turning to face him for the first time since he entered.
"It doesn't bother me, really," he replies, mentally taking note of how disheveled she looks. Her hair is a mess and it appears that she hasn't slept in days. His concern grows with each passing moment. "Are you alright?"
"I am fine, brother," Eirika answers. She still refuses to meet his gaze, her facade of calmness failing to conceal the lie. The weight of things left unsaid hangs heavy in the air, threatening to suffocate them both.
"Are you sure? You don't look fine," he says, only to immediately regret his bluntness.
He can tell Eirika is closing herself off, and if he can't get her to open up now, he may never have another chance. Before he can think of anything else to say, Eirika speaks.
"What do you mean?" She asks, sounding colder this time. Ephraim doesn't miss the way her voice shakes slightly, betraying her true vulnerability.
"Well, you look like you haven't been sleeping well lately," he begins, pausing to consider his choice of words. "And you seem a bit restless." He stops, letting his observations sink in. He knows they have when he looks at Eirika's face. Her eyes are filled with tears and she's shaking slightly, like the temperature of her room suddenly dropped. He tries to tell himself she'll be alright, but doubt casts a shadow that becomes harder to step out of with each quiet sniffle from his twin.
---
Although Eirika knows she's losing her battle with the tears, she doesn't stop trying to fight them back. If she starts crying now, all the composure she built up to hide her pain will crack, and her weakness will be visible to the one person who has always supported her. Ephraim stays strong for her, and the least she can do is be strong for him in return. But now, the expression of concern on his face threatens to break her resolve, and she can't predict how long she has before the dam breaks completely. While she stands there in the semi-darkness, contemplating the quickest escape route, Ephraim asks one question that pushes her over the edge.
"Did you have a nightmare?" His question is simple, but it cuts Eirika straight to her core. Her mask finally slips, and she nods, tears spilling from her eyes. Ephraim responds by pulling her into a tight hug, whispering unintelligible nonsense that's supposed to be comforting but does nothing to soothe her fears.
"Oh, Eirika, he murmurs, rubbing her back gently. "You don't have to hide your emotions from me, you know that."
Eirika doesn't reply, unable to speak through her sobs. This doesn't make sense, why is Ephraim being so kind to her? Weakness is unacceptable for a ruler of Renais, yet here she is, weeping in her brother's embrace. He's still holding her close, doing anything he can to calm her down. He doesn't complain when his nightshirt grows damp with her tears, he just waits until her loud sobbing becomes soft whimpers.
---
Once Eirika has regained some composure, Ephraim pulls back and wipes away the last of her tears.
"Are you feeling better?" He asks, breaking out of the hug but keeping his hands on her shoulders.
"Yes, I am," Eirika answers. Her face is still red and tearstained, though her voice remains steady.
"Good, that's good," Ephraim says with a small smile. Looking at his sister, he feels intense relief wash over him. She's calmer now, and the terror in her eyes that he saw when he first entered her room is gone, replaced by weariness. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Eirika gives a long sigh, and his relief becomes panic. He wonders if he said something wrong, but after a moment, Eirika begins to open up.
"I miss father and Lyon," she starts, her gaze downcast. "I can't help but think there might have been a way to bring them back. It's silly, I know."
Ephraim thinks for a moment before finding the right words. "The past is set in stone, Eirika," he says. "There's nothing we can do to change that."
"I know," Eirika mumbles, her exhaustion evident in her voice. She doesn't say more, but he can tell she understands. She leans against him, and within minutes, she's already fast asleep.
Ephraim carefully lifts her up and carries her to her bed, making sure he doesn't wake her. When he gets there, he lays her down and pulls the blankets over her, before stepping back, satisfied with himself.
"Good night, Eirika," he whispers, so quiet it's barely audible. He takes one last look at her sleeping form, knowing the road to recovery will be long and hard, with many more nights like this one. He can't be sure of much going forward, but one thing is certain. No matter what happens, he will support Eirika through all of it. That, he knows, set in stone.