Beautifully Scarred

Hi everyone :)

This is my first time dipping my toe into the waters of Fire Emblem and it's all because a friend of mine asked me to. So this is for her because she adores Tibarn/Reyson.
So, without further ado, everyone please enjoy :)

*****

When he had been a child, scars had been terrifying and repulsive in Reyson's mind. Created by violence and a symbol of never-ending pain they were too clear a reminder of suffering for the delicate Heron prince. So, when he had met Tibarn for the first time, he had been extremely wary of his fellow laguz. With his giant height, massive frame, and scar-covered tanned flesh, Tibarn was the epitome of everything Reyson was unfamiliar with and therefore frightened of.

That had all changed over the years of course and scars had become things that Reyson admired as evidence of strength and endurance. Once he had found his sister alive and he had let go some of his anger over the Serenes Massacre, perhaps the Heron's greatest ambition was to earn himself a scar in battle.

*****

Reyson honestly hadn't planned before he acted. If he had, he would've noticed that besides the enemy Thunder Mage approaching, there was also a swordmaster whose range he was entering. However the thought at the front of his mind was that there was an already-injured Mia staggering in the general direction of a far off Rhys. She was obviously not going to make it to the priest before the Thunder Mage reached her and Reyson knew he just had to help her. He was beside her in a heartbeat and immediately singing new energy into her.

Mia threw him a grateful look as she straightened ever so slightly and her pace picked up a little. Reyson had no time to return the gesture or even acknowledge it before he was forced to concentrate on Thunder Mage who had chosen to attack him now that Mia was no longer in his range. The Heron dodged the two attacks with ease only to then feel a sudden pain slice through the left side of his stomach. With a small moan of pain, Reyson collapsed to the ground, avoiding the swordmaster's second attack in the process.

There was no need to touch or even look at the wound to know there was blood flowing freely from it and staining the white of his robes. Reyson wasn't able to decide whether it was a worse pain then the time he broke his hand slapping Duke Oliver across his fat face; not only were they different types of pain, his mind was also preoccupied by the knowledge that he was almost certainly going to die within mere moments. The Thunder Mage and the swordmaster were still standing over him and this time he could not hope to dodge their blows.

However, the goddess Ashera was apparently smiling on him as no sooner had Reyson begun to contemplate his own mortality then two sharp gusts of wind magic felled the swordmaster. Reyson could feel the presence of his saviour beside him and he summoned the strength to sing so that whoever it was could dispose of the Thunder Mage also. While that transpired, the Heron wondered over the identity of his rescuer. he hoped dearly that it was the tiny beorc female Ilyana because if it wasn't her then it was...

"Pathetic."

Reyson almost wished the swordmaster had struck him twice when he heard the voice of Soren.

"Was that an intentional suicide mission or did you simply over-estimate your own speed and agility?" The mercenary tactician asked somewhat snidely.

"I didn't noticed the swordsman." Reyson answered reluctantly.

"A case of sheer stupidity then." Soren sighed before pausing to look around them. "I suppose I can't leave you here in good conscience. Can you get up?"

Reyson tried, dear Goddess did he try, but he could not find the strength to push himself up let alone get onto his feet.

Soren released a sigh of exasperation before kneeling down to the Heron's level. "I doubt I'm strong enough to carry you but I can at least support most of your weight." He explained as he slung one of Reyson's arms over his shoulders.

The pair fell into silence then as they trudged across the battlefield, trying to move as fast as possible and remain inconspicuous to any enemy soldiers who might have noticed them. They were incredibly lucky in the fact that they reached the safety of the fort they were besieged in before they were recognised as vulnerable and then there were plenty of their fellow mercenaries to protect them. Also, no sooner were they safely away from the fighting than Mist had rushed up to them, clearly concerned and anxious to help.

"Take him." Soren ordered, already offering the injured Heron to the teenage girl as he spoke. "I have done my good deed for the day." With those parting words, the Wind mage turned and hurried back into the thick of the battle.

Mist supported Reyson's weight with surprising ease as she slowly turned them around. "We'll settle down somewhere quieter and then fix you up."

Reyson said nothing and allowed himself to be led to one side in silence. Backed into a corner created by the entrance into the fort and the wall beside it, the Heron slowly eased down to sit on the ground. Mist was on her knees beside him in an instant and her hands were soon assisting her eyes in examining the wound. Although on the whole she was gentle, there were moments when her touch caused shoots of pain to spike through the prince's body.

"It's pretty bad," she revealed grimly, reaching for the staff she had set down beside herself. "I don't know if I can heal it completely but I'll do my best."

The Heron gave a fairly weak nod in reply and allowed his eyes to drift shut in relief as the pain began to fade. However, just as Mist feared, she did not possess the ability to completely heal the wound. When the pain steadied out once more, Reyson opened his eyes again and dared to look down to where he had been injured. His robe was, of course, ripped badly and the white in the surrounding area was stained with the plentiful amount of his blood that had bled out. He could see the still-open wound just underneath the material which was still bleeding slightly and was still significantly deep.

"Are you carrying any volunaries?" Mist asked even as she began to root through her own pockets and packs. "I think I might have one left..."

"Mist!" The voice of Rolf suddenly yelled from somewhere not too far away. "Mist, Rhys needs help!"

"Give me a second!" Mist yelled back a little frantically as she fumbled with the volunary she had in her pocket.

"Mist," Reyson said calmly as he reached out for her hand. "Go to Rhys, I can apply the volunary."

"Sure?" The healer asked even as she handed over the medicine and hastily scrambled to her feet.

"I'll be fine." He reassured her.

"Don't push yourself too soon." Mist instructed quickly before dashing away at a surprising speed.

Reyson watched until the girl was completely out of sight before he gave a heavy sigh and sagged against the wall behind him. It had been quite a strain to hide just how much pain he was in. There were others far more vital to the battle than he who needed Mist's attention more urgently. He could easily tend to himself especially since the young healer had handed over a few vulnerary doses. Using mainly the hand on his uninjured side, the Heron prince pulled loose the drawstring of the bag of medicine and reached in for the powdered substance within. He quickly applied a light coating of it directly to his wound and then awaited the result.

After a moment, Reyson decided that another dose would no doubt heal him completely. However, he then paused as a thought occurred to him. He looked long and hard at his injured stomach; no longer a lethal laceration but hardly what could be considered minor either. Then he glanced at the small beige bag sitting on his knee. Another moment of nothing passed before Reyson pulled the strings of the bag to close it and placed it on the ground beside himself. He did not touch it again.

*****

The return of Tiarn was welcomed by all despite his news of Naesala's betrayal to them all. Reyson was the happiest and the most disgusted respectively but he hid it well for the sake of the Phoenicous king. Tibarn was obviously exhausted in body and mind and Reyson was immediately protective of him. He made the larger laguz rest and kept everyone away while also doing his best to fulfil the king's every desire.

"Tibarn," Reyson gasped breathlessly as rough lips and sharp teeth caressed one of his ears. He sat straddled across the Hawk laguz's lap, his head tilted to one side to allow Tibarn access to the sensitive spots usually hidden behind his hair.

"Hmm?" Tibarn murmured, a grin clear in his voice.

"Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I am resting."

"I don't think you are." Reyson disagreed even as his grip on the larger laguz tightened.

"I'm sitting down aren't I?" Tibarn pointed out, still grinning. "And what could be more relaxing than sitting down with a lap-full of handsome Heron?"

"You do not feel relaxed," Reyson noted as he ground himself against the stiffness inside the king's trousers. "I would say you actually feel quite tense."

"Hmm, well, now that you mention it, I do feel a little tense in places. Maybe you'd be willing to help? You've been so attentive so far after all."

Reyson gave Tibarn a look that was both unimpressed but also rather sultry as well. It had been so long since they had actually been together intimately that the Heron was actually willing to over-look his lover's tired condition or the fact that his way of asking for what he wanted was cheesy and cliche. Both men wanted each other equally and nothing was going to stop them now that they were alone and would remain alone for the rest of the night; there was no telling what tomorrow would bring after all.

So, the blond man gracefully slunk down, out of Tibarn's lap, and fell to his knees in front of the larger man. While looking up coyly, Reyson reached forward and began to un-lace the front of his lover's trousers at an excruciatingly slow speed. When a satisfactory amount of bronzed flesh was revealed to him, Reyson took a moment to kiss and nip at the bare thighs. However, he spent only a second or two on each before finally moving his lips forward and lowering his head towards his lover's already stiff shaft. The Heron's hot breath alone caused Tibarn's heavy erection to twitch and throb and the Hawk could swear he could feel himself getting even harder. For an age it seemed that Reyson was just going to hover over him, not doing anything. Tibarn was on the verge of hurrying his lover when Reyson very suddenly ran his tongue along his entire length, from root to tip. The king gave a satisfied moan to that, encouraging the blond to do more with the promise of more tantalizing sounds to be his reward for good work. The Heron licked around the head with more pressure, causing the larger laguz's breathing to become just that little bit more laboured.

"Reyson..." Tibarn practically growled in appreciation as the blond licked him again and again.
Reyson's actions were becoming increasingly more teasing as he continued his process of licks along the entire shaft and it soon wasn't enough. The king began to give small grunts and groans of encouragement to try and get his lover to understand what it was exactly he wanted as his ability to speak seemed to have left him some time ago.

Of course, Reyson was only too aware of what it was Tibarn wanted and after he was satisfied with the state he had reduced the larger man to, he finally obliged; he took the entire length into his mouth, causing Tibarn's back to arch and encouraging a long, loud moan of his name. The savoury taste of his seed played on the Heron's tongue and he instantly wished to taste it so much more. He began a soft sucking pressure, not wanting this all to be over too quickly but also wanting to move it along a certain amount.

The more Reyson worked his tongue around the stiff length, the less Tibarn seemed to be able to breathe naturally. His chest heaved and the occasional choked gasp fought its way out of his throat. The dark haired laguz's knuckles were turning white from the strength of which his hands griped the edges of the chair he sat on and his back continued to arch towards Reyson's mouth.

Tibarn's climax came very abruptly and it was only Reyson's quick reflexes that prevented him from choking on the liquid that suddenly flood his mouth. He pulled his mouth back so only the head was in his mouth and used his hand to pump the shaft as he kept a regular pattern of suction. Tibarn's enjoyment was silent, no doubt to prevent the entire camp from hearing what they were doing, but the hands that roughly fisted the strands of golden hair were enough to assure the Heron that his attentions were, indeed, very much appreciated.

Reyson didn't remove his mouth from his lover's length until it had softened considerably and even then he pulled off of it incredibly slowly. Once they were parted, the blond tucked Tibarn back inside his trousers and laced them up for him again before he knelt up straight and pressed his lips sweetly against the other man's. Tibarn almost immediately hefted the slighter laguz up onto his lap again and deepened the kiss though kept its sweet quality and easy-going mood.

As their lazy kiss continued, fingers began to undo the buttons down the length of the Heron's chest. When enough were free, Tibarn slipped his hand inside to run his roughened fingers over the smooth skin of Reyson's chest. The blond gasped into the kiss as those fingertips brushed over his nipples and deepened the kiss as they began to trail downwards, over his abdomen and...

Tibarn suddenly broke their kiss and turned a frown onto Reyson. "What the hell is that?"

Reyson immediately knew what was being referred to but he chose to pretend ignorance. "What's what?" He asked, trying to sound nonchalant and failing quite spectacularly.

"This." The king said as he placed firm fingers on the scarred flesh across the Heron's stomach.

Reyson winced, although not in pain, and remained silent.

Tibarn quickly stripped his lover's torso completely of his clothes so he could better see the poorly healed injury. Running diagonally up the left-hand side of the prince's stomach was a long and wide strake of roughened skin coloured an angry red that only looked worse against Reyson's milky white skin. It was a deep scar, one that would not quickly fade or possibly ever heal completely and the sight of it completely horrified Tibarn.

"How..." He started to say but then paused and amended himself. "When did this happen?"

"During the retreat, when we were under seige at Seliora castle."

"Why wasn't it healed properly?"

"Mist did all she could..."

"The little beorc girl, Ike's sister? I'll just have to have words with her then, won't I?" Tibarn said angrily as he easily lifted Reyson off of his lap and stood.

"Tibarn, it wasn't Mist's fault." The Heron protested as he reached out to hold the man back.

"Sounds like it was to me."

"She did as much as she could for me before she had to go to someone who needed her more urgently. She gave me volunaries to heal the rest myself."

"But they weren't enough?" Tibarn presumed.

Reyson looked away awkwardly and said nothing, his hand dropping from his lover's arm.

"Reyson?" The larger man asked sternly.

"I didn't use the volunaries." The blond admitted reluctantly.

That piece of information seemed to take a second or two to sink in for Tibarn and he stared at Reyson blankly. Then, his expression turned annoyed once again only this time his annoyance was clearly directed at the Heron. "Why didn't you?" He demanded.

"I..." Reyson tried before looking away again. "You wouldn't understand."

"Maybe, but I still want to know."

The Heron gave a small huff and, still refusing to look at the larger laguz, he spoke: "I wanted the wound to scar."

"Okay," the Hawk king replied slowly. "Why?"

Annoyed by his lover's tone, Reyson finally looked Tibarn in the eyes, pinning an angry glare on him. "Because it proves that it happened and that I was strong enough to survive it!" He explained heatedly. "Even if you weren't as scarred as you are, people wouldn't be able to look at you without knowing that you're strong. When people look at me, all they see is a delicate, wilting Heron who can't defend himself."

"I don't think anyone could ever think you wilting." Tibarn snorted ruefully.

"Like I said, you don't understand and I don't expect you to." Reyson muttered.

"I do understand," the king assured gently as he carefully pulled the half-naked prince into his arms. "You want the world to recognise your strength, you want them to think of you as something more than a defenceless Heron. But are you intending to wander around with your midriff bare like a teenager from now on?"

Another scowl found its way onto Reyson's face at that. "Why does it have to be for someone else? Why can't it just be for me?"

"But you said..."

"Maybe," the blond interrupted firmly, "if I can remember how strong I am then others will start to see it as well."

Tibarn was silent at that and Reyson was in no hurry to prompt him into speech. While he stubbornly looked everywhere but at his lover, the larger laguz was staring at the Heron as though it was the first time he was actually seeing him.

It was an extremely uncomfortable moment for Reyson however and eventually he began to shift underneath Tibarn's unwavering gaze. "Why are you staring at me like that?" He mumbled self-consciously.

A soft expression crossed Tibarn's face then but he said nothing so it was impossible to tell what had caused it. Instead, he moved forward and wrapped his arms around the blond man in a gentle but secure embrace. Reyson didn't return the affection and remained standing stiffly, yet undecided as to whether or not Tibarn deserved his indignation.

"Oh I do love you, you silly, silly Heron." Tibarn murmured affectionately as he pressed his lips against the top of the head of golden hair.

Anger flashed across Reyson's face then and he pulled away with the intention of scolding the taller man. However, before a single word could leave his lips, they had been sealed shut by Tibarn in a deep kiss. Reyson, of course, didn't submit and immediately began to try and break free. The kiss ended before too long though but Tibarn kept Reyson held close.

"Let go." The Heron ordered irritably, trying unsuccessfully to free himself.

"Nope." Tibarn refused simply.

"Tibarn..." Reyson began warningly.

"Don't be insulted," the larger laguz murmured affectionately as he pulled the slight form in his arms closer once again and cradled the back of his head in his large hands. "Because you have to admit that you are silly if you need a scar to remind yourself how strong you are."

Reyson's mind seemed to stop at that; what?

"In many ways Reyson, you're stronger than I am." Tibarn continued quietly, his gentle petting of the head of blond hair never ceasing. "Though I don't expect you to believe that. You're stronger than you were when I first met you and you grow stronger still every day. You don't need a scar to prove how strong you are; the fact you're still alive is proof enough of it."

The blond looked away again, a small frown on his face and an embarrassed blush no his cheeks. "You're right, I don't believe you."

"Of course you don't." Tibarn grinned with good humour before he sat down, pulling his lover down onto his lap as he went. "So, are you going to tell me what happened?"

Reyson gave the man a side-long look before turning his eyes away again. "No."

"No?" The king echoed in surprise.

"Not right now."

"Oh?"

"I have something else in mind for right now." The prince practically purred as he leaned in so close his lips were but a breath away from the other's.

“There isn't a man alive, beorc or laguz, strong enough to fight against an offer like that.” Tibarn chuckled huskily before their lips came together again and there were no more words.