[Suikoden Tierkreis] Bounded Rationality

[runiclore]

Title: Bounded Rationality
Author: Myaru
Rating: K
Warnings: spoilers for the ending, otherwise n/a.
Word count: 1440
Prompt: Suikoden Tierkreis, Asad/Chrodechild: wooing the Astrasian Queen, "In a way, I sometimes miss the days we spend in the Castle in the forest."

Summary: Restoring Astrasia created as many problems as it solved.
A/N: I... have never written Asad before, and the same goes for the pairing. I haven't written much Tierkreis, actually, so um... ;_;

Crossposted here at springkink.



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Asad pulled at the front of his coat. Summer brought relief to Astrasia's endless variations on cold and frozen, but the uniform that had been too thin most of the year was too hot and scratchy now, and smelled like wet wool. It stuck to his chest, his hair felt damp. He plucked at the red collar until Meruvis came out of Chrodechild's study and swung the door open in invitation, snatching his hands to his sides as soon as the glint of her gold hair caught his eye. She looked up from her book, smiled. Faint gray shadows made rings beneath her eyes, but she looked as relaxed as she ever did these days, sprawled with her legs outstretched, in the loose black uniform she wore when she led the Blades, and the sound of her voice and his name compelled a grin and an apology for disturbing her. Asad scratched the back of his head and heard the door close behind him distantly, like it happened a dozen yards away.

"It's still strange to see you in that," she said, setting her reading aside on a high round table. It was a folio, not a book, probably full of documents he would find utterly boring. Her big leather chair creaked when she leaned back, pushing her hands into her hair. "You look uncomfortable."

Was it the sweat that gave him away, or the wrinkles across the front of his coat? "And you look tired," Asad said. He waved away her motion to sit - he'd only fidget anyway - and folded his arms back. The fabric pulled a little at the shoulders, but like the coats the Blades wore, it was made to allow movement, not to restrict. "I'll get used to it. It's better than all the stares."

Sun glared in through the windows to his right, casting rectangles of light across the rugs that didn't quite reach Chrodechild's outstretched toes. Her boots reflected the clear blue panes, dull, warped around the toe. She fingered the cuff of her sleeve. "I know how you feel. Guntram would kill me if I went out wearing this."

Asad grinned. "You took off all of the armored parts. What does he want?"

Her laugh was brief, shorter, softer than he was used to even before they retook Astrasia, when it seemed she had more reason to be grim. Getting a smile out of her was one of the hardest tasks Asad had ever taken upon himself; when she sought refuge with the Magedom, her green eyes were glassy marbles, mirrors, and her face stiff as wood, a theater mask that only cracked when she thought she was alone. Her first smile sent a thrill of shock straight to the pit of his stomach. But-- getting her to cry was even harder, and when he thought back to how easily he'd broken after seeing Janam's sandy grave--

"Why did you want to see me?" Chrodechild pinned him with her gaze again. Her hair had grown a few inches, and curled around her ears and her chin, spiking straight at the back of her neck. "I thought you ran drills at this time of day."

"This." Asad reached past the folded collar of his coat and pulled out an envelope, held it out to her. Then he averted his gaze, sweeping the bookshelves behind her, the multicolored bindings and diamond-shaped scroll alcoves, the ladder reaching all the way to the white ceiling, where the smallest, blandest books seemed to be stored. The room smelled of dust no matter how widely the windows opened; it looked fuzzy and gray up there, begging for a good sweep.

Funny; she'd always hated dust, at least the kind that hung in the air at home. Why--

"Why did she need you to deliver this?"

Asad jerked his eyes back down. Chrodechild folded the message again without looking at it, tilting her head when he breathed in to say something and stopped. "I guess it... uh, wasn't urgent." His heart jerked against his ribs at the slight narrowing of her eyes. "Nobody would take it."

She looked down at the letter. "It's only a status report. It isn't--"

He let his arms loose at his sides. The tension drained, pooling to tingle in his fingertips. "Fredegund gave it to me before leaving on patrol. She said--"

"Nobody would take it." Chrodechild's voice was strained, taut.

Asad looked away. He knew that expression, that dip of her eyebrows and her lip trembling ever so slightly, and they should have been finished seeing it. "I know who they are and where they live," he said to the windows, and the clear blue sky beyond. A flight of sparrows streaked across in an arrow formation, screeching.

Again Chrodechild laughed, after a moment of silence, but it was more like a sigh, and he could imagine her frowning - at the paper, or at him. "Who is with her?"

"Roberto." Asad turned forward again and saw she'd left the paper on her folio, and stared at her hands instead. "Hafin and two of his subordinates are assigned to her for every patrol - for encounter purposes, of course."

Of course. She echoed Fredegund's response, stone-faced, her fingers woven together between her knees. A thin golden circlet glinted in her hair, where her black headband used to be, the only sign of rank Chrodechild consented to wear within the walls of her own castle. It was part of a compromise: she would stop trying to take up command of the Blades and ride out on patrols, and Meruvis wouldn't be obliged to stuff her into a dress and tie her to the throne. Everybody is happy now, my queen, he'd said when she agreed, a wide smile plastered on his face that was so uncharacteristic it sent a chill down Asad's spine.

My queen. Those words, that tone - Asad's jaw clenched.

They grew up together - they trained together. Of course they were more intimate. That was all.

"Every time this happens we have an agent take down names," Asad said. Her head lifted slightly, the pale highlights in her hair glinted. "As soon as we know who's trustworthy, we're going to switch the assignments around to make sure none of the bad ones are out there with her. Guntram and Meruvis have people listening around too. There's nothing for you to worry about."

"She's my sister," Chrodechild said, scrubbing her hand into her hair again, leaving it sticking up in the back. "Of course I'm going to worry."

Asad's fingers twitched. "Stop it." He curled them into his belt to resist the temptation. "You have enough on your plate. We're here to support you, remember? That's why we're picking up the slack - all you have to do is be there to welcome her when she gets home. That's what she wants."

She looked up at him through her bangs, her head still propped on her hand. "I know." It was a long sigh Chrodechild let out, and he watched her shoulders loosen and slump as she let her head drop almost to her knees. "We've only been home a year," she said, her voice muffled. "But sometimes I miss the old days - the lakeside castle, even Janam."

Asad watched her fingers sift through her hair, wished he could do the same. One of these days he might scrape up the courage to tell her he wanted to, and she might even let him, if Meruvis didn't get to her first - but what he really would have liked, besides the privilege to ruffle her hair, was her smile, and the sound of real laughter from her throat. He wanted to watch her green eyes sparkle, see her perfect teeth shine, just like they did for that short time in the forest, when they knew who their enemy was and why they were fighting. That was all the One King had ever been good for. That, and bringing them all together in the first place.

Birdsong trilled outside and wind whispered, whistled past the window across the room, where the casement was sitting slightly ajar. His gaze unfocused on Fredegund's letter. "I know what you mean."


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