Chapter Text
Innes is going to kill Ephraim with his bare hands the second he's able to get out of bed without feeling like death.
It's been two miserable days since Carcino, since the other prince embarrassed him in front of the entire army (how dare he, carrying Innes around bridal style, the audacity!) And yet, Innes hasn't seen him— hasn't been visited by the Renais prince, not even once.
Not that Innes cares, what Ephraim does doesn't concern him in the slightest—and yet, he can't help but feel a pang of pain in his chest (right where his heart is) at the idea that his rival doesn't care about him; at least not enough to visit.
You're such a coward , Ephraim , Innes thinks. Come face me now that I'm awake, you coward!
Innes actually has been visited by almost the entire army at least once, much to his annoyance. However only two people so far have been periodically checking in on him.
Those people being his sister and Gerik.
He’s only known Gerik for a couple of days, but going through a life threatening experience is a great way to get close to someone, he supposes. The fact that Gerik had decided to stay back for him—that he had protected him— despite putting his own life in danger, means the world to Innes.
Gerik’s injuries were vast, but not life threatening. Some of them had gotten infected during their stay in that cursed keep; the wounds swollen, angry and painful. It was thanks to this that Gerik had been assigned bed rest for a couple of days, just like Innes. The mercenary, however, would often escape to Innes’ room whenever he got bored of being stuck inside his. Innes doesn’t mind— Gerik is great company.
Except for today, it seems.
Gerik was present when Tana had made an appearance earlier, and heard the siblings argue over Innes’ constant “moping” (which is false, by the way. He doesn’t mope, nope, never)— and all it took was for Tana to mention Ephraim’s name and a quick glance at Innes’ full body flinch for Gerik to understand why the archer was so moody.
“Aww, Prince. I bet he’s gonna visit sooner or later, don’t worry about it!”
Gerik's amused and slightly teasing tone of voice filled the infirmary the second Tana left— and had the archer been able to stand up and push him out without keeling over he would’ve done it in a heartbeat.
“Not you too!” Innes cries, crossing both arms and sulking, “As I told Tana, repeatedly , whatever Ephraim does with his time doesn’t concern me— in fact, I’d rather not see him until the end of the war”.
“Heh. Whatever you say, Prince”
Innes isn’t looking his way, but he knows Gerik has a smug grin plastered all over his face right now, so he makes it a point to stare anywhere but his direction. Maybe if he ignores him long enough, he’ll leave him alone to lick at his wounds in peace.
Innes has tried to keep his feelings for his fellow neighboring prince at bay since the day they met, (at Tana’s 10th birthday party); back then he didn’t know what the butterflies in his stomach meant, he just found them annoying, and thus dealt with them the only way he knew how— by angrily latching out.
The whole rivalry with Ephraim started over Innes attempting to attack the source of his discomfort (those damn butterflies), but the more they competed, the more he felt them. He didn’t take the whole “fated rivals” thing seriously until they were both teenagers, when Ephraim started to bring up Lyon, Grado’s Prince, in conversation whenever he could and as often as he was able.
Innes would rather die than admit it, but by the Gods, he was so jealous . Ephraim would refer to this so-called Lyon as his best friend often, and Innes felt it like a punch to the gut.
It’s not a secret that Innes isn’t the most sociable person, especially compared to his sister, so he didn’t have close friends growing up. He focused on his studies, on his bowmanship, on being perfect . He didn’t have time for friendship, not with his busy schedule.
But if someone had asked him back then, he would’ve said the twins were his friends— that Ephraim was his best friend even, despite everything.
Innes, however, cannot be second best to anyone, not now and not back then— so he figured, since Ephraim’s best friend spot had been taken, then he’ll be his one and only rival.
Which brings us back to the present.
What if Innes’ display of weakness means Ephraim no longer sees him worthy of a rival? What if that’s why he’s not visiting, not coming to tease Innes for having to rescue him?
If he’s not Ephraim’s rival, then what is he?
“Hey, Prince?”
Gerik’s gentle voice shakes him out of his thoughts. Ever since they met he’s been using Innes’ title as a friendly affectionate nickname, the archer used to think it mocking at first, but he likes it now. It means Gerik is his friend, right?
“What is it now?” Innes barks, exhausted. Most people would’ve flinched back at the hostility and annoyance of Innes’ tone, but Gerik just chuckles at it.
“I think you’re just overthinking, that’s all” the mercenary says casually, a knowing look in his eyes, he’s currently sprawled lazily all over the chair positioned next to the archer’s bed, “He’s probably busy, doing royal stuff, ya know?”
Innes is about to argue because, since when has Ephraim ever done his royal duties?, but Gerik talks again before he can interrupt; “Listen, there’s absolutely no way he doesn’t care about you, Ok? Not after what I saw, trust me.”
“Ha! And pray tell, Gerik, what did you see?”
Gerik’s face is gentle, his eyes patient and wise. He sits correctly and pushes the chair as close to the bed as he can— not without grimacing a little though, as the movement aggravates some of his wounds. Innes waits for him to speak, arms crossed in front of his chest, impatient as ever.
“You have no idea, don’t you, Prince?” Gerik starts, shaking his head a little, “You were knocked out when they arrived, so I can’t blame you, but that so-called rival of yours? He was scared out of his mind.”
That doesn’t make any sense , Innes thinks, glancing curiously at Gerik, Ephraim isn’t scared of anything.
“But, why would he be scared? If what Tana said is correct, then by the time they arrived most of Carcino’s men were dealt with, right?”
Gerik has the audacity to sigh at him, “Oh come on, Prince! I know you’re smarter than this!” He then decides to ignore Innes’ murderous glare, and continues, “That Ephraim, he thought you were dead. I only glanced at him for a minute, but I swear I saw all five stages of grief reflected in his eyes. Can’t blame him though, you looked pretty dead, uh no offense.”
Innes’ immediate reaction is to actually get offended at the “pretty dead” comment, but he decides to let it slide by focusing on Gerik’s statement.
Innes closes his eyes tight, willing the flurry of butterflies fluttering in his stomach to please stop.
“Are you—” He stops, licks his lips, and tries again, “Are you implying he was afraid for me?”
“Yeah,” Gerik says, serious, “he is terrified of losing you, Prince.”
Ephraim knows this is a terrible idea, but he needs to do it— needs to see him.
He’s been avoiding Innes for the last two days, too afraid to visit lest he bursts into tears of relief at the sight of him.
His mind keeps conjuring images of his rival, dead in Carcino— he knows that he needs to see him to truly convince himself that that's not the case.
But he dreads Innes' rejection even more. The idea of being so vulnerable in front of him, to let Innes see how afraid he was (how afraid he is), is unbearable to Ephraim.
Hence why he's currently walking towards the infirmary at the dead of night— if he's lucky, Innes should be asleep. He'll just step inside, make sure he's truly not dead, and get out.
Eirika had mentioned that Innes spends most of his time sleeping anyway, the blood loss leaving him incredibly weak.
Fingers crossed, then.
Ephraim opens the flap to Innes’ room inside the infirmary tent as slowly and as gently as he can, trying not to make a single sound. He even made sure to leave his armor and metal accessories in his own tent, wearing his undershirt, pants and boots only.
The room, from what Ephraim can see, it's dimly lit. He peeks inside before going in, Ephraim can make out the outline of the bed and a small chair next to it, he supposes the bundle of blankets in the middle of the bed must be Innes, then.
Asleep, by the sound of his deep breathing.
Ephraim as carefully as he can, makes his way inside, slowly walking in the direction of the bed, towards the bundle of blankets.
Innes is, in fact, asleep; he is lying on his back— whoever was here last probably made sure he was neatly tucked into the blankets, covering him up to his neck.
He looks peaceful , Ephraim thinks. Looks younger, even.
Even in the dim light, Ephraim can see that his friend's face has color— he's still pale, but he looks healthy, nothing compared to the deathly pallor and white lips he donned two days ago.
Before he can stop himself, he carefully stretches a hand towards Innes’ face, gently caressing one of his cheeks. Ephraim feels his warmth through his gloves, making him sigh in relief.
He had felt so cold, back then.
Ephraim tugs a stray strand of hair behind the archer's ear, and— because he can't contain the overwhelming relief and fondness he feels— leans in to place a loving kiss on the other's forehead.
He feels his dread and anxiety leave him in waves, having his friend right in front of him, obviously alive, has calmed his frantic mind like a balm.
However when he makes to get out of Innes’ personal space after the forehead kiss, he finds himself staring straight at two (beautiful) sleepy green eyes.
Shit.
They both stay frozen in place for a couple of seconds— Ephraim reckons he must look like a deer caught in headlights. Innes looks just as surprised, after all Ephraim is so close their noses are inches away from each other.
“What—” Innes begins, his voice raspy with sleep, “Ephraim?!”
Oh, Gods, please strike him down right now .
“I was just—” Ephraim's voice comes out like a squeak, warmth and color pooling all over his face, a deep red painting his features, “—leaving! Sorry!”
Ephraim only picks fights he can win, and explaining this entire fiasco is a losing battle, so fleeing is the only option.
He feels Innes’ hand grab at his arm, however, his hold is weak, but firm.
“Oh no, you don't!” Innes cries, frowning. “Where do you think you're going, you coward ?”
Oh, now that stops him dead in his tracks.
“Coward?!”
“You heard me!”
Ephraim is too sleep deprived to deal with this shit. Innes’ hold isn't strong, he could break free easily. His rival wouldn't be able to chase after him if he decided to run for it, either.
But Renais’ Prince stays rooted in place— his face still feels impossibly hot, it must be bright red; but he is not a coward.
Ephraim sighs heavily, exhaustion hitting him like a brick. He frowns at Innes, maintaining eye contact, while he unceremoniously sits down on the chair next to the bed.
Innes looks smug for a second, probably thinking he won at whatever competition he made up in his head right now.
Ephraim wants to kiss the smugness off his face, so badly .
They stay quiet for a minute or two, neither of them wanting to break the silence first, daring the other to do so.
“Took you long enough.”
Innes is the first one to give in, still holding Ephraim's arm in his grasp. His voice sounds annoyed, but Ephraim is able to distinguish the barely concealed embarrassment in his tone of voice too. Hmm, now that's interesting.
“What, Innes?”
“Visiting me, obviously.”
“Ah, were you waiting for me? How cute.”
“Oh, shut up!”
Ephraim feels his face involuntarily split into a grin. He loves the back and forth he has with Innes, loves their banter and competition. He knows his rival loves it too, if the small smile Innes is trying to hide means anything.
I almost lost this, the thought crosses his head abruptly. He could've died .
Innes must've felt his change of mood, cause he sighs, irritated.
“Ugh, stop it.” Innes says, annoyed, “I'm not weak, I don't need you looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like if I were a ghost,” Innes sniffs, closing his eyes. He had let go of Ephraim's arm a while ago (when he made sure the other wasn't going to run away) to cross his arms on his chest.
Ephraim stays silent, glancing at his feet. He would've replied with a sarcastic comment, to keep their banter going, but his head feels heavy with sleep and grief.
Innes didn't die, true, but he grieved him all the same. Even if it was for just a minute.
“I—” Ephraim begins, voice choked. This is it , he thinks, time to show I'm not a coward. “I'm so glad you're okay, Innes. When Eirika and I found you I—”
Ephraim sniffles, finally letting his tears run free. “For a moment, I thought you were gone. For a moment, I had to entertain the thought of living on, without you. It was devastating, to say the least.”
He covers his face with his hands, embarrassed of his tears. “For the past two days I haven't been able to sleep, Innes! I keep seeing you, dead. I just—I can't deal with it!”
He hears Innes take a shaky breath next to him, and waits to be mocked, for the sarcastic remark. The Prince of Renais, weeping. It's the perfect ammunition.
“You fool, that's not good,” he hears Innes say, his voice wet, “You better than anyone should know how important resting is—of what use is a sleep deprived king?”
Ephraim’s hands fall off his face in surprise. In the room's dim light, he can see Innes’ face shine with tears.
“I won't die anytime soon, Ephraim. What happened in Carcino was a miscalculation, but it'll never happen again.”
And Ephraim believes him.
“Also—” Innes continues, “I suppose you can stay the night here with me, if it'll soothe your fears, I mean. There's enough room for both of us in the bed.”
Ephraim's heart feels like it's going to explode with affection— what his rival just said is the closest thing to an “I love you” in Innes-speech.
“A-ah, yes!” Ephraim says, with a shy smile on his face, “I'd like that very much, if that's Ok with you?”
Innes makes a show of rolling his eyes dramatically at him, his fierce blush making him look extremely kissable, in Ephraim's opinion.
“I'll let that stupid comment pass, but only because you're sleep deprived. I literally just said you can stay, you fool! Of course I'm Ok with it.”
Before climbing onto the bed, the Renais Prince takes a moment to wipe his tears, then leans over Innes once again. This time, however, instead of a kiss on the forehead, it's a kiss on the lips.
It's chaste and quick, Ephraim doesn't dare push his luck further with Innes, lest the other changes his mind over sharing a bed.
“Anyway,” Innes coughs, embarrassed, “it's late, and I'm exhausted, so time to sleep. Now.”
It takes them a while to get comfortable in the small infirmary bed, apparently, it's not built to comfortably support two grown men.
Innes is spread out on his back, and— because Ephraim needed it, because he couldn't help himself, because Innes let him— the Renais Prince has his head resting on the frelian's chest, listening to his heartbeat.
Innes falls asleep first— apparently he wasn't lying when he said he was exhausted. Despite being sleep deprived, it takes Ephraim a while longer to finally succumb to sleep.
He lets Innes’ heart lull him, the heartbeat and his warmth a constant reminder that Innes is alive, that he’s safe.
Right before closing his eyes, he gently takes one of the archer's hands on his own. Innes doesn’t stir at all, Ephraim wonders if he's naturally a heavy sleeper or not.
He kisses Innes’ hand lovingly, lacing their fingers together, and finally, he sleeps.
Eirika is rudely awakened at sunrise by Tana excitedly shaking her awake. How she manages to be so energetic so early in the morning is beyond her; Eirika wishes she had half the energy Tana has.
“Eirika! It happened! Gods, it truly did!”
Eirika doesn't know if it's Tana the one not making any sense, or if it's the fact she just woke up, but she has absolutely no idea what her friend means.
“What? What happened, Tana?” Eirika says, confused, “Is there something wrong?”
Tana just grabs her hand in response, and pulls her out of her tent. Eirika has half the mind to panic at this, after all she's still in her nightclothes. She can't let the army see her like this!
“Tana, wait! Let me change first, I'm not dressed for the day!”
“Who cares?! This is more important!” Tana says, excited, her hand firmly grasping Eirika's, “Plus, you're not alone Eirika, I'm also in my nightclothes, it's fine!”
Tana drags them all the way through the camp, Eirika thanks the Gods that most people are asleep at this hour, until they reach the infirmary.
“Did something happen to Innes? Is this what this is about?” Eirika says, concerned.
Tana just flashes a knowing smile her way, her eyes shining with mirth. Eirika's brain short circuits for a second, as it always does whenever Tana smiles at her like that. Eirika can't help it, the frelian princess is just too cute.
“Ssh! Just, look!”
Eirika awkwardly follows her into Innes’ infirmary room, feeling out of place. She doesn't want to intrude into the other's privacy, but it's not like Tana gave her a choice.
The moment she enters, though, everything falls into place. Oh, Tana was right, it finally happened!
On the bed are both of their elder brothers, sleeping. Ephraim has his head resting on Innes’ chest, part of his face tucked under the frelian's chin. He's got one of Innes’ hands trapped in his grip, fingers laced together.
Eirika feels like crying out of pure relief at seeing her brother sleeping so soundly, so peacefully.
Next to her, Tana is trying (and failing) to conceal her squealing.
“Gods, look at them, Eirika! I can't believe Innes finally got his act together and did something!”
Eirika can't believe it either, if she's honest.
“Hey, Tana, didn't we bet on Joshua's wager that they would get together before the war ends?” Eirika whispers instead. The army has been in full gossip mode ever since Innes’ rescue in Carcino— after all everyone saw Ephraim carrying him around bridal style. It was only natural that bets were going to be placed.
Tana gasps so loud, Eirika nervously glances at their sleeping brothers, to make sure they hadn't been woken up yet.
“Oh Gods, Eirika, you're right!” Tana stage whispers, “does that mean we won?!”
Eirika is about to answer, when she hears her brother clear his throat in an attempt to get their attention.
“Hey girls,” he greets them sleepily, “Can you keep it down?”
Tana giggles, waves at him, whispers an apology and walks out the room. Eirika knows she’s probably rushing to get their tea set ready, so they can gossip about this in depth.
Eirika walks towards the bed, to get closer to her brother. He’s the only one awake, it seems—apparently growing up with Tana has made Innes immune to her loud voice, since he's still fast asleep.
“So,” Eirika starts, whispering as to make sure Innes does not wake, “is this a rivalry thing between you two, or did you finally accept you like each other?”
Ephraim rolls his eyes at her teasing.
“As if you're one to talk,” he whispers back, amused, “Anyway, I got my frelian royal, so it's your turn now.”
Eirika sticks her tongue out at him, and makes to walk out of the room, not before whispering back, “You know what, you're right! I'll tell Tana today.”
She's almost out of the room by the time Ephraim replies back. He's got his eyes closed, and is as close to the sleeping archer as he's physically able.
“Good! I bet Joshua you were the one to make the first move.”