Our Plagued Thoughts

"I remember the first time I saw Nowi, in Border Sands, with Gregor, that mercenary we pay a great deal to serve us in the battle against the Plegians. Beautiful blonde hair, dusted with small flakes of sand grain. Baked lips, heated by the natural anhydrous winds of the desert wasteland. Mind my imagery of her, for I am just recording as close to the truth as possible about her appearance that arid day our team encountered her. Slender body, resembling one of a young mademoiselle. A short height made, and still does, her seem younger than actual age has treated her. When I saw her evolve into the scaly beast and triumph over a Plegian soldier, I was amazed by the strength she showed while fighting that dastard. To me, it was love at first sight. I think it took a short measure of time for her to warm up to me, however. I should go back to a description of her so I can remember it when I grow old and look through all my journals and reminisce about my old travels and companions. Her upper body was covered by wyvern scales arranged like an upside down V, and I still've no idea how it stays in place, unless I've been missing the obvious cloth connecter. Maybe it connects at the back while her flowing hair covers it? I know Nowi still wears the same under armor today, but the words to describe them today fail to reach me." I mumble along as the words come to me.

Failing to bring more to my mind, or any appropriate observations that I'm comfortable to write in my journal, I shut it and bring strategy plans to my small, sad excuse of a desk. I'm thankful for it though, Kellam was nice enough to gift it to me after noticing that I was having trouble planning while drawing on the uneven stone floor. No, I take that back, it's not a sad excuse for a desk. If not for the wooden surface, I'd have been too distracted from devising plans, and we'd most likely be dead or be controlled by the Mad King of Plegia.

"I think someone has a crush!" Lissa pulls open the drapes covering the entrance of the tent and strolls in behind me, practically deafening me. Not that, but the proximity of her mouth to my ear makes my ear rind for a moment. "So! You like Nowi, am I right?" She pushes the detailed papers to the side and plops down on to the table as if it were a cushy couch. Why must she be so nosy? I have a feeling she's more interested in spying on others' thoughts than her husband.

"Shh! Hush it, Lissa! Her tent is only a few to the east and I don't want to make a damned announcement! Why are you here anyways? Did you happen to be walking around camp and overhear me mumbling?" I draw my index finger to her mouth as she opens her mouth agape as if she were a commander ordering her troops to harass me for having a crush. Which is totally normal. The crush part, I mean. "Quietly now. Don't want to alert more people than you have already." Hopefully she has only surprised me with the racket she's making and not other individuals.

"Yes, actually." Lissa grips my hand and places it at my side. Immediately afterword, I raise it to my head, just below my forehead, a small sort of smacking sound following. What I really weant to know is why she is interested... I guess every girl likes a little gossip. I can't blame her for being interested in this sort of thing, but if she goes preaching around the country how I like Nowi, that's when I'll have to shut her up. Or when she is in close proximity of Nowi. I vote the latter.

"What do you exactly want, Lissa? Do you just want to listen to me creating tactics, which is quiet but you get the gist. Bother me for no reason? I know I'm acting rude at the moment, but when a girl, anyone, barges into another's quarters after hearing that he has a crush, I sort of have good reason to act this way." Trust me, I could act worse. But this one being a princess, I have to hold off on vulgar phrases and words. They'd leave me behind and go forth without their tactician and with their manakete. Plus I'm not that rude. I'm not great at forcing myself to be like that. And Lissa hasn't been rude to my opinions and such. All the more reason to not run my mouth.

"I'm sorry, Lissa. But you know how it is to have a crush, you love that person so you're ready to help them whenever and wherever you can, and you're too nervous to ask them out for a date because you don't know how they'll react or feel about the idea. Right? Is that not how it was between you and Frederick?" A minute trickle of sweat streams down the middle of my neck. Gods damn it. I reach towards the collar of my robe and dab it over the path of the incoming perspiration and hope she didn't contemplate the action. When I felt the stirring in my heart, I didn't expect it to be this usually burdensome to masquerade.

Lissa sticks her hand out an half-shakes it, half-rotates it, signifying that wasn't the situation amidst Frederick and her. "Yes and no. I was afraid to ask him out, sure. But for so long I made it so obvious that I liked him, by the time he put the clues together, I wasn't afraid of how he might act towards me when I felt ready to ask him. Handkerchief?" She reaches into her velutinous dress sleeve, digging around voraciously to find what is presumably an unnecessary handkerchief, acknowledging my nervous sweats. Until finally, after and extended amount of time filled with agitated thoughts and awkward (but needed) silence, she exposes a fine silk cloth, covered with a sublime pattern of a marigold flower in bloom and offers it to my hand.

I shake my head slightly. "No. But thank you for your kindness. Just tell me what you want. Please, Lissa. Please, promise me this, promise me that you will not tell Nowi. Or Frederick. Or anyone else. Keep this conversation between us for the time being. I will do anything to keep this a secret. What am I to say more?" What I have said is what I mean. As long as what she wants me to do isn't suicidal.

Lissa keeps a steady gaze on me, her lips now forming into a smirk, hauntingly familiar to Chrom's countenance when he announced Sumia and he had married the past day. The past day being about a month ago. "Depression does not paint a pretty picture on your face. Why, Frederick doesn't even sweat that much when he is training. Here is what I ask of you. You will..." Her facial muscles illustrate her engrossment in the subject, which is most likely a bad sign for me. But this is Lissa we're talking about. "Ah ha! Find me a healing staff! Then I will forget this ever happened." A healing staff? Is she being serious?

"Don't you already have one? What's wrong with your current staff, if you don't mind me asking." On field, when I have seen her, the staff has been in perfect condition from my perpective. Though, the perspective I observe it form is more than 50 yards, and that figure is a minimum. It is certainly not nature's beauty, for a man-made tool, that is, rugged wood, jagged crystal, and other conditions. But the thing does its job, and well at that. It's saved me quite a few times.

Lissa raises herself from the table and, after sounds of crinkling, turns towards the entrance of the tent with an agape mouth. "Now-"

I spring out of the wooden chair and wrap my right arm around her body and with my left arm, I bring it to her head and cover her mouth with my hand. "Okay! I'll get one as soon as I can! Just don't speak of this to anyone. Especially Nowi. Do we have a deal?" She escapes my grasp and is met with my open hand. Desperate times call for desperate measures, huh?

"Deal." Lissa forces her hand to meet mine, but when she does, my arm is jerked around from what was meant to be a serious handshake to a childish shake old friends would exchange after ea lengthy time of not seeing each other. After almost yanking my arm from its socket, she calmly walks out as if nothing had happened. I won't complain, there would be more trouble there for me to handle.

After observing crumpled papers, filled with plans to follow on the battlefield, I give up on restoring the sheets to normal condition and decide to get some fresh air through my lungs. Though, as I leave my chair and stand up, I pick up a book and place it over wrinkles in the sheet. "Also, the first time you met her was less than three days ago." Lissa appears from the other side of the tent and lectures my journal entry as I egress from my tent. In response, I simply point at her tent and walk away to the middle of the rest site where ashes from the previous night's fire lay, shifting slowly in the wind and covering left over twigs not consumed by the flame. Maybe I should ask Nowi to join me at the fire tonight? She certainly would look angelic. Twinkling eyes, fire illuminating her blonde hair, and effect I can't describe in words sufficiently to specify the beauty shown, other defining features I can only dream of for the time being. Magnificence in its most exquisite form.

Nearby, I overhear an argument between Chrom and Frederick. "I don't see why we rest here now, milord. Your sister's life is in Plegian hands and we're stationed here, sleeping in and playing in the sand. Milord, I'm only suggesting that we advance later today."

"I understand what you say, Frederick. But we need to rest right now. If we don't have enough strength to simply get to Emm, all of us will die and Ylisse will be destroyed by the Plegians. Sullivan is also still devising a plan. If we must, I will have us start traveling this afternoon. Not until then, Frederick."

"Yes, milord. I shall be training not too far away, so I will follow the group when we start to leave. Thank you for listening."

And I should have brought the plan with me. Out of the farthest end of my mind, I think that I should have added that small, faint, flush-colored bow betwixt the material on her chest to the description of Nowi. To me, officially, Nowi had plagued—or blessed—my thoughts with her adorable and pleasant disposition, and will continue to do so until the day I perish. Now, you might think that I am too attracted ot this woman, girl to you if the manakete trait was still a secret, and I wouldn't mind. Perhaps I am. Hopefully not. But, to me, it isn't a matter of physical attractiveness, but a matter of seeing what is on the inside, and I love that childish demeanor Nowi possesses. Optimistic, playful. It all adds up to something wonderful.

I position myself upright and begin to make way back to the tent, when my foot gets arrested on what feels like a set of armor, causing me to tumble into the sandy ground, flakes of it mixing with hair follicles and pervading my robes. As to what I fell over, my only guess is that my foot got caught on Kellam's armor without me even noticing his presence. Who else wouldn't I notice? After wiping the granules out of my eyes, I barrel over and take an offered hand that raises me from the ground, then apologize to Kellam. "Thank you for that, Kellam. I'm sorry about tripping over you, I should have been paying more attention to my surroundings. (But you really should make yourself more apparent)."

He holds me back, dropping a carved stick from his armored hand, as I begin to again pace towards the tent. "No problem, that's quite common. Is there something on your mind, Sullivan? I thought you would notice me resting here, but apparently not." He brushes a bit of sand off of my shoulder. "You okay?"

I nod my head. "There is something, but I don't feel the urge to share and discuss with many people at the moment. Let's just put it at this: have you ever had an admiration for a woman before?" I consider if I should take the statement back. Not a great question.