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thissilverfish · 1 day

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m/f ; not romance-focused ; ~2k words

Like all tales of young men sent to war, his is particularly unremarkable to tell.

It still rings from within his heart all the same, but he'd rather swallow than sigh.

The people who end up recruited into this little army called the Shepherds come from all walks of life, a wonderful realization that becomes more apparent as it continues to grow. Each individual is uniquely their own, subtleties and silver linings easily obscured by the perceivable.

Robin is attentive to such details and patterns. It's part of how she gets to know people. There is a cadence in one's tone and footsteps. The heartbeat of two Shepherds drawing each other in a little more never goes unnoticed to her.

There is a mystifying, inaudible song whose rhythm they follow, even though they don't realize it. They all gather to the peal of the bell come morning and fight their battles like a long-practiced dance. She supposes that there is no difference after all.

People are more prone to habits than they think. They enjoy comfort and routine, even when the routine is a lack thereof. Calmed through the steady, reassuring ticking of a clock. As long as war looms over the horizon, Robin can never afford to fully indulge herself in tranquility. So when one day, she senses a stutter, she takes it as an indication that something has gone amiss.

A disruption in routine becomes easy to notice, like a boat lightly swaying and making one feel nauseous. She hears the heartbeat of this army like it's her own and feels when the soil beneath them loosens.

A habitually neat soldier's haphazard appearance. The spots people choose to sit at during supper. An extra seat for the newcomer. Silence from a chatterbox and loudness from a listener. Marks on training dummies. Whispers from people who couldn't sleep as she works throughout the night.

The way Stahl's shoulders slouch a little more never escapes her eyes.

Sometimes he holds his breath.

A tension surrounding anticipation.

Every now and then the Shepherds have the time to roam the markets whenever they arrive in a town ahead of schedule or have to stop briefly as respite from unexpected weather or circumstances.

During these times, in the privacy of their tents and under warm candlelight, a few of them choose to write letters. Most of them are addressed to their families from whom they won't hear back until they return to Ylisse.

It's a worry she doesn't think she'll understand while wading through the dense fog called her memories. But if, say, she has a mother she doesn't remember, where would she be right now? What would Robin tell her? What kind of family did she grow up with before forgetting everything? The Shepherds don't speak to her too much about such a topic. Part of her still wants to know all the same.

"So what do you usually talk about with your family?" She sets aside their stock of tomes for the next week and writes a number she'd kept in her memory. If their predictions are accurate, they are bound to encounter several skirmishes against Risen within the next few days.

Stahl absently slows down when he checks and counts each weapon, ponders for a moment, and swallows. "That I'm doing alright. Then they'd usually write back about uneventful things at home.

"But these days we're on the brink of war. Tensions at the border. I don't know what to tell them and we don't have much free time. In the end I just tell them I'll be away a little longer."

These answers make her stop and think. Her grip on the dagger she's been holding tightens.

Everyone often has more to tell. He is no different. If she didn't have a knack for reading between the lines she would have taken such an answer at face value and let it be. He wouldn't be the type to act or express himself so emotionally charged.

A neatly sharpened lance gets stored away with the rest. He'd been staring at it while answering.

They've already had several close encounters with death. War does not turn boys into men. War signals the death of many dreams — dreams of love, honor, and peace. All it has ever done is leave destruction in its wake.

The future for them remains uncertain, out of their control. It is a great hole in the sky from which the Risen have crawled. Plegia is not their ally. They have strength in numbers against a mind and a small army's hope for a miracle.

The responsibility is heavy on everyone's shoulders. Plenty of these victories will be owed to her, but she knows that there is also luck to thank. All she can do is try to keep these dreams afloat even for just a little longer.

In the vast space within her mind, the crackling of potent elemental magic resounds in the distance. Sometimes she hears a voice.

Instead of letting the conversation go down this morbid path, she shifts it into something easier to talk about. Changing the subject is something he's too used to doing himself. He knows what she's doing and he lets her do it still. Her question in itself was not impolite at all, his answer equally so. She's had this exchange a few times with the others. In Stahl's case there is too little, and too little is too much.

Neither side talks too much about the goings-on in their lives. Neither side talks about anything too exciting or disheartening. Neither wants the other to worry.

In the conversation outside her mind, Stahl tells Robin that he's just glad he met her. Being a Shepherd was never a lonely experience.

Does he feel like a stranger towards his own family because he's been away for so long? What does he wish to hear from them?

Is being part of the Shepherds really not a lonely experience?

There are many things left unsaid.

Sometimes Robin thinks Stahl swallows his words before he even gets to say them.

An innocent gesture like turning away from him to ask for help from someone else. Or when someone else claims something he wants and in the blink of an eye it's gone. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, he just pretends there's nothing to say at all.

He likes to eat. It's become a little joke that the Shepherds have learned to love about him. Someone so simple would love doing something so simple. Even then, at his own expense, and even as the army grows, he gives. Sometimes he gives a little too much. But he gives and gives and gives.

Maybe he likes the unsung joys of helping someone else. Maybe he loves everyone more than himself. Maybe he's trying to find a comfortable spot with the Shepherds after so many new faces. Somehow she understands the loneliness of doing otherwise.

"You really do give your everything, Stahl!"

"It's all I can give," he returns calmly, as though a practiced response to such a statement.

Again he says he's glad to be a Shepherd.

It never seems like he's lying, but there are things he just doesn't say at all. Robin wishes he knew he's so much more but wonders if he's heard that so many times. Whenever people hear something like that from him, they realize that one is just like the other and everything is all one can give. But just like every other statement he makes she understands there's a hint of tiredness he expertly conceals.

Taking note of his mannerisms during supper, she observes that he's made to sit between two Shepherds having a quarrel every now and then. He entertains them just enough to keep them distracted. When he thinks they're fine he eats and listens.

Stahl's discomfort never shows, but she makes connections too fast for him to conceal his true feelings. After all, he is not an actor.

He'd rather swallow than sigh.

Robin's ears are ringing. Stahl reported himself sick during the morning bell.

Recalling that he looked a little pale and fatigued, they dismissed him for the day and had him checked, walking a little weaker than he's used to.

While all the rest hurry on to training and making rounds, she walks, with a little more urgency than needed, to the infirmary. They haven't been running into each other so often except for when they share duties.

Somewhere along her walk, she realizes how much she wants to see him, but saves it for later.

The healers leave the tent to tell her he'll be fine after a little rest. She will at least make sure no tedious assignments go to him for the next few days. Robin will have to ask him nicely about taking a few days off completely.

Inside it he lays down on his side, his armor absent since the morning. A chill passes over him and she gathers the sheets from unoccupied cots, fixating on the way he curls into them when she covers him. Warm tea is set on the table next to him and he smells like patchouli. His head must have been throbbing.

He turns to his other side rather slowly and spots her with half-lidded eyes. Guilt and shame are reflected in them when he realizes it's her, although their greetings are warm as ever.

"What happened?" Her voice is the complete opposite of the one she uses to command armies.

"I ran too many errands last night and thought I could still make it for the morning bell."

"That's alright. You should focus on getting better for now. I'll assign the heavier chores to the others this week. For the next three days, I want you to rest, and if the healers think you need more I'd like you to rest more. Is this okay?"

She's sure it's not just from last night. If she tells him she wants him to rest a while, she hopes he'll prioritize it over the other requests he might take.

"Okay," the cavalier responds, deflating a little, like he understands that such a decision is best for him but he's not entirely happy with it.

Whenever they meet these days, all they do is talk. Sometimes they'd be doing something else alongside it, but it's mostly just talking. About mundane things other people don't really care about. It's become their thing. Simple things for simple people.

The first few times he ended up being the one listening to her — her face flushes warm when she remembers him saying he likes hearing her speak, but never mind — so she gets to the point before he can make it about her again.

"Why don't you tell me what you're thinking?"

Of course he didn't expect her to be so direct. Speechless and blinking slowly, he averts his eyes, entering deep thought.

"Only if you want to, of course!" She clarifies.

"No, no! It's alright. I've been wanting to talk about this, but now that you've asked me, I forgot what to say."

They laugh. Finding words is such a struggle. So many of one's problems disappear the moment they're made to talk about them.

About a minute passes before Stahl completely gathers his thoughts and speaks. Deep breaths.

"I don't like being sick. I know it happens every once in a while. Like this, I… I feel like I've disappointed you again. Everyone's improving at such a rapid pace and I wonder if I can keep up."

There is a moment of silence that Robin normally fills. He takes it as a sign for him to continue speaking.

"And if I can't keep up, I know I can still be useful in other ways. I just don't know if it's enough."

She wants to tell him that he always does his best. She likes that his best is a comfortable middle out of all the Shepherds. He's heard it too many times to believe so. With a voice softer and more controlled, it's like he's trying to hold back his tears.

"I still like to do my best. But then… others do their job better, and I feel like I've done too little. I've seen them work twice as hard or twice as efficient. I thought I was working within my limits, but I fell ill. If I'm dismissed… and sent back home, there's nothing I particularly excel at, and when I double my efforts to stay I wonder if I appear overbearing. Well, I don't know if I'm someone who's too little or too much for other people."

Robin lets silence pass to make sure he's finished speaking. "Then what kind of person would you like to be?"

A sigh escapes his lips. Finally. It's something she didn't realize she wanted to hear, and it's her turn to hold her breath. "Just enough," he answers.

Just enough.

All this time he wanted to be just enough.

Now everything is a little quieter, and she knows what to say to let things fall back into rhythm. Reaching out to grasp his hand, he glances at her with a tear rolling down his face and he's met with a serene smile.

It's clear she's never been disappointed in him.

"Just enough is perfect," Robin's hands are too covered for them to know how warm the other is. Those are the right words for him. She hopes he can see it in her eyes still, and from her view there is a sparkle in his that gleams even brighter when she finishes speaking. "And I think you're exactly that."

#ure kenough stahl dw #fics #stahlbin #loooooove these in depth explorations u have

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thissilverfish · 4 months

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another awkward moment

(mentions, but no direct depictions, of intercourse)

When they break their kiss for air Robin sees a string of saliva in the space between their mouths. Instead of deepening it, or undressing each other, article by article of clothing the way she feels should happen, she sits in confusion as Stahl's eyes seem to widen in a bout of shock and panic.

The man scrambles to tidy himself – she is amused at how he still fixes his hair in spite of how disheveled it stays, though she can't exactly understand why he broke the kiss when they'd prepared for it, anticipated it earlier.

When she listens to him his speech is riddled with arrhythmic pauses between breaths, "I'm going to the convenience store. Is there anything you want?"

Heart sinking, lead fills her stomach. Maybe she unconsciously did something unattractive that caused Stahl to be repulsed, because now he seems like he's in a hurry to rush outside and leave her. And yet he's still patiently waiting for her response and looking at her attentively.

The silence is long and nearly deafening before she decides to respond.

"…No. What's wrong? Is it something I did?"

The way she deflated must have been apparent because he quickly denies it much to her relief, "No, no. You didn't do anything wrong! It's just that weforgottobuycondoms."

The heaviness in her stomach is gone, replaced by a blankness in her mind she feels might still explode.

Stahl scratches a spot near his forehead, putting in every bit of effort to prevent his face from reddening and to even his breathing. Unbothered by him rapidly stringing his words together at the end, she hears him clearly the first time, but in her daze her mind repeats what he said, word for word, in slow motion.

…What?

"Oh… okay."

"I'll be right back, okay?"

Out of habit, she nods and feels him plant a gentle kiss on her forehead before leaving. As he staggers out he's donned a large coat. All she can hear is the door to the apartment clicking and all she can stare at is the space in front of her.

Silence becomes her only companion, ironically a rather loud one.

Finally having time to process what just happened, she composes her thoughts. Heat rises to her face at the realization and she covers it with both hands despite being all alone. They had planned on doing it for the first time today and, in their shared naivety, ended up unprepared.

How could they have forgotten!?

#fics #stahlbin #not art #hhhhhh they're so eager 😭😭

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