[Radiant Historia] Partners (Raynie, Marco)

[lassarina]

Characters/Pairings: Raynie, Marco, assorted OCs
Rating: PG
Contains: Violence
Wordcount: 2051
Notes: Written for walllwalker as part of parallelsfic
Beta: who_shot_kr
Summary: Raynie's new to this mercenary gig, but she's pretty sure she can handle it. Especially with her new partner.

Raynie hung on tighter to her spear and hoped the nerves didn't show. It wasn't that she didn't know how to fight. It was more that she'd never had to fight in a life or death situation before, and mistakes on the practice field usually didn't land you in the hospital or worse.

The unit she had been assigned to was small, only four people counting herself. There was a big, tough-looking older woman sporting an impressive array of scars and an equally impressive broadsword strapped to her back, and a thin young man whose deep brown skin marked him as being from Cygnus. He carried a double-curved desert bow, and Raynie was steadfastly not looking at him because that made it easier to pretend she didn't miss home. The last member had a northern accent--whether Alistellian or Granorgite, she wasn't sure--and hadn't shut up in the past thirty minutes. Raynie was starting to wish for earplugs.

Looking around, it seemed that her group was short one person. All the other groups she could see had five people. She hoped that didn't mean they were expecting more from her.

Someone bumped into her, and she turned to see a short guy wrapped up in furs, juggling a pack that clinked like it was full of glass bottles and a sword. "Sorry!" He seemed a little out of breath. "I'm Marco."

"Raynie," she said, and he grinned at her from under a fur-lined cap.

The sergeant who'd been dividing them up stopped by, glanced over them all, and nodded. "You five are taking that path," he said, pointing up the mountain to the easternmost path. "Your group will keep taking the eastern fork and regroup at the top so we can sweep down on them. We expect the bandits to be hiding out in small groups, so proceed with caution. If it looks as though you'll be outnumbered, retreat and call for backup."

"Are surrender terms being offered?" asked the woman with the broadsword.

The sergeant shook his head. "They've done too much damage to the farms around here," he says.

Raynie couldn't really tell from the woman's expression if she thought that was good or bad. The northerner looked shocked and actually shut up for two seconds. The archer just nodded, like he expected that.

"Does that mean we just kill them all, even if they surrender?" the northerner asked.

The sergeant looked irritated. "Do what you want with them," he said. "Are the orders understood?"

"Yes, sir," Raynie said, and saw everyone else nod. Marco did so reluctantly.

The sergeant moved on, and they all exchanged looks.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there," the woman with the broadsword said. She nodded at Raynie. "You said your name was Raynie, right? I'm Lily."

Raynie barely caught herself before saying something about names not matching appearances. Instead, she looked at the northerner who wouldn't shut up. "I'm Noah," he said. "My mom named me after the Prophet." Well, that settled the question of Alistellian or Granorgite.

"Grant," said the archer, cutting off what was undoubtedly going to be an infinite ramble about the glories of the Prophet.

"Marco," he reiterated, and they all gave each other the sort of awkward nod that happened during group introductions forced by proximity rather than interest.

"Let's move out," Lily said, adjusting her pack. "We've got a lot of ground to cover."

Lily took the lead, which Raynie was perfectly happy with, and put Grant in the rear with his bow. That left Raynie and Marco in the middle with Noah. "All praise the Prophet," he muttered.

"Noah, you have to keep quiet," Raynie told him briskly. "If they hear us coming, we're all dead."

He glared down at her from his advantage of exactly one inch of height. "How dare you tell me what to do, little girl…?"

Raynie bristled—sure, she was young, but she knew what she was doing.

"Let's make this simple," Lily interjected. "You shut up, or I toss you off the mountain. I'm not dying because of your damned Prophet."

"You wouldn't," he said smugly.

"She would," Grant said, "and if she doesn't, I'll use you for target practice. Shut. Up."

Marco looked alarmed, and took a softer tack. "These bandits are used to the mountains, right?" he said. "They probably know all the sounds—even if you're being quiet, they'll recognize the sound of voices. And voices carry up here."

Noah sulked and crossed his arms over his chest. Raynie was just grateful he wasn't talking.

The mountain path wasn't too bad to start; Raynie could see that it was getting steeper ahead, but for now, it wasn't that big a deal. They passed three places where Grant indicated bandits had been hiding out, and Raynie quickly learned to recognize the signs of disturbed brush, soot on the rocks, and scattered bones from rabbits or other small food animals. Noah eventually forgot to sulk as he had to use his energy for climbing.

Marco stopped suddenly enough that Raynie almost ran into him, and pointed upward. She tilted her head back and saw three bandits standing on a rock above them.

"Looks like our lucky day," the front one said, and drew his sword. Noah gave a startled yelp, and Raynie whipped the cover off her spear.

"Come and get us," Lily invited them, and then they were fighting. Noah, it turned out, was pretty good with a sword, and Lily was a terror with that broadsword. Grant stayed back and coolly picked targets, while Marco dashed around knocking the bandits into each other to make it easier for the rest of them. They got a couple of good hits on Noah and Lily, but eventually they went down.

Marco approached Noah and used healing magic on him, which left the Alistellian staring at him suspiciously while he went to tend to Lily's less impressive wounds.

"Come on, let's go," Lily said the instant Marco was done. Raynie suspected that, left to her own devices, she wouldn't have waited to be treated. "We still have a ways to go."

They found four more bandit nests on their way up the mountain, and all of them chose to fight rather than surrender. Raynie was sort of relieved to not have to make a decision—it kind of forced her hand when someone charged at her with a weapon—but at the same time she felt a little bit bad about killing so many people. Sure, what they were doing was wrong, but it was getting harder and harder to find a place to make a living as the sand spread over the continent.

"You can't think of them as people," Lily told her after the fifth battle.

"What?" Raynie stared at her.

"If you want to be a soldier, you can't see the other side as being just like you. If you do, you'll hesitate. And if you hesitate, you'll die." Lily gestured at the scar on her shoulder that looked like her arm shouldn't even still be there. "That's how I got this."

Raynie wanted to argue, but she couldn't think of the words.

"I've got your back because you're on my squad," Lily continued, "but you won't do yourself any favors worrying like that."

Raynie nodded, because she couldn't think what else to say, and Lily went back to the front of their little line and kept leading them upward and eastward.

Marco caught up to her, and put a hand on her shoulder. "It'll be okay," he said.

Raynie wished she believed him.

They reached the rendezvous point at the top of the mountain. From there they could see the main bandit camp. It was laid out like its own little city, and showed signs of having been inhabited for some time now. They weren't the first group to arrive, because they'd taken the most roundabout route, but they were early arrivals. Another sergeant met them and pointed them to a place where they could rest before the attack, which was to be at dusk.

Noah recovered his energy for prayer and spent a while giving thanks to the Prophet for safely delivering them. Raynie was inclined to dismiss him, but their group was one of the few to come through with no casualties. Some were down to as few as two members, and the sergeant dispatched other squads to clean up anything they might have left behind.

They grew quieter as they waited for the signal. Noah finished praying and took up a place between Raynie and Marco, and inspected his armor to make sure it had taken no damage. Lily just waited, still as a statue, as did Grant. More small groups filtered in, and the sergeant directed them to their waiting spots.

Raynie peered over the escarpment carefully, taking care not to inch too far out to where it was unsteady, and looked down at the bandit camp. A few wounded members of the group appeared to have made it back to the camp, and the bandits were apparently arguing about what they were going to do.

Marco wriggled out beside her. "What do you think?" he asked her.

Raynie bit her lip. "I don't know," she admitted. "That's why I'm not a commander."

Marco shrugged, and a couple of pebbles creaked and scraped under him. "So that's why you watch the ones who are, right? And learn from them."

"Huh. I didn't think of it that way." Raynie looked back over her shoulder, and saw Lily making a "come back" gesture. "I think it's about time to go."

They slid backwards until they stood with their group. The sergeant in command of this area nodded. "They're disorganized and arguing," he said, "so we're attacking now. Get started. You'll be in the vanguard."

Raynie and Marco exchanged looks, but there wasn't much to be done. Lily shrugged and adjusted her armor.

"Let's go," she said. "Left hand path. It's flatter."

Raynie glanced at the right-hand path, where more people had already started to descend, but she assumed Lily wasn't leading them false. Grant nodded, too, so she followed them down the path.

It was a steep descent, but when she got to the bottom and saw how many people had fallen on the other path, she was grateful for Lily's direction.

"Let's go," Lily said when three more groups had joined them.

"Prophet protect us," Noah whispered. Grant just tested his bowstring and made a warding sign with his left hand that Raynie recognized as asking Death to stay far away.

Lily unsheathed her sword and charged forward.

It immediately became obvious that these people had been too busy arguing to prepare for an attack, and Raynie almost felt bad for them as her spear jabbed through light clothing instead of armor. No, she did feel bad for them. But they had chosen not to surrender; they had chosen to prey on other people instead of making an honest living somewhere else. So she fought, back to back with Marco, and when the last few bandits surrendered, she leaned heavily on her spear, gritting her teeth against the ache in her leg where she'd gotten careless and a bandit had gotten lucky. Looking around, she saw that more than a few bandits had gotten lucky. Noah was facedown on the ground and far too still. Grant's arm looked like it might never recover, and for an archer, that was mandatory retirement. She couldn't see Lily.

"Here," Marco said, and green light washed over her and soothed her wounds. Raynie sighed in relief.

"Thanks," she said.

"Sure." Marco was trying very hard not to look at Noah. Raynie did too; for all that she'd found his constant talking pretty grating, he hadn't been a bad person. Marco turned away and cast healing spells on Grant, which at least stopped the bleeding.

"Let's go," she said when the silence had spun out long enough to be awkward. "I guess we're going to—to need new teams."

"I'd like to stick with you, if I can," Marco offered shyly.

As tired and heartsore as she was, Raynie grinned. "Partners, then." She held out a hand.

"Partners." Marco shook her hand and smiled back.