An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Eirika/L'Arachel (Fire Emblem), Eirika & Ephraim (Fire Emblem), Eirika & Summoner | Eclat | Kiran
Characters: Eirika (Fire Emblem), L'Arachel (Fire Emblem), Ephraim (Fire Emblem), Summoner | Eclat | Kiran
Additional Tags: Romance, courting, Fluff, Sweet, First Dates, Askr Shenanigans (Fire Emblem Heroes)
Series: Part 1 of Daily life in the Hall of Heroes
Summary:
Eirika has just been summoned in Askr, and find herself visited by her old friend princess L'Arachel, who invites her to go out in town. Their relationship evolves from there.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
L'Arachel grips Valkyrie's reins tight in her gloves as she wriggles restlessly in her saddle, trying to find any position that inspires less aches of the body. Alas, such a position does not exist. She nudges the stirrups against Valkyrie's sides, urging her mare to pick up the pace and draw abreast with Eirika.
“Any word from the flying scouts as to when we'll set up camp?” L'Arachel asks with forced cheer, offering Eirika her most dazzling smile. “This repetitive scenery has little to offer in the way of aesthetics, and I fear my sweet Valkyrie is growing disillusioned with the landscape. I should like to retire her for the evening before her ill temperament reflects poorly upon my house.”
“Your horse... is tired of the scenery?”
eirika x l'arachel, brief blood cw, word count: 2.7k
collection of more shorts written for @yuriolympics, eirichel edition (✿◡‿◡) br3 prompts are based around flower language, which is where the title came from. these are intended to take place during game canon on eirika's route! gender isn't a strong focus but l'ara is transfem 💖 ( @femblemfemslash @fetranshub )
hiiii I wrote a little something for the yuri shipping olympics bonus round! the prompt involved selecting from different submitted quotes and I went with: "Hey, are you asleep yet…? Me neither." :}!
summary: l'arachel invites eirika around for the express purpose of showing off her cool new bunk-bed. I will stand steadfast by my belief that l'arachel deserves a bunk-bed.
banner art: rika suzuki
pairing: l'arachel/eirika
no warnings required!
1,087 words!
The installation of the bunk bed had proven a particularly arduous quest, but L’Arachel could not find it in her to regret it for even a moment. Were she to be faced with a horde of disapproving Uncles, armed with petty quibbles of space, and logistics and 'please, niece, who is going to sleep on the bottom bunk?'s, she would’ve sallied forth for the glory of two-fold bowers all the same.
Now, all that was left to complete her victory - already so perfect! - was to elicit Eirika’s awe-struck approval at the sight. There was little doubt in the Peerless Princess’ mind that she would be just as astonished by the novelty, the innovation of such a design! As a woman of noble breeding, she too must be acquainted with those solitudinous nights; those long and empty hours where it swiftly became clear that the world had departed with all its trifles and daylit joys.
She too L’Arachel was certain, as she always was, had sampled the hollow silence of a castle’s walls, had been struck with the profound realisation that she had never been more completely and entirely alone.
Those long evenings had never affrighted the young princess, of course. It had just been so very quiet, was all. And L’Arachel loathed nothing quite so much as she loathed silence. Fortunate indeed, then, that here was a pallative for those isolated ills!
Having swept her darling friend towards their sleeping quarters, L’Arachel suddenly paused, hand resting against the sleek oak of her bedroom door. She turned: the very picture of solemnity.
‘Now, Eirika, you must vow to me that you will not exclaim in shock, no matter how delighted you are. I have procured a wonder so startling, so marvellous!-’ Her eyes had started to sparkle, already conjuring images of her closest friend’s reaction to the sight awaiting her, almost too much to bear!
Composing herself, she turned from the door with a huff, taking ahold of her beloved house guest’s hand. The surprisingly soft contours of her palm pressed into the silk of L’Arachel’s gloves, rumpling the fabric into an impression of her grip, soft and so very warm.
‘What you are about to witness is so inutterably brilliant, that even I was struck speechless at the first glimpse, so please, be prepared.’
A giggle, and then a sharp inhale met her arched brows. This was only marginally a laughing matter, and L’Arachel would have due diligence paid to it!
‘Yes, of course L’Arachel.’
‘You have made ready?’
‘As much as I’ll ever be.’
Well that sorted it: Eirika’s willpower was second to none. Steadfast as ever! Truly, the Princess of Rausten’s ability to select only the finest of bosom-companions was unimpeachable. Allowing herself a moment of self-congratulation, she turned back to the door, and flung it open with a crash.
A view of L’Arachel’s bedchambers emerged in all its opulent glory. To the left, her trusty staff reclined against a stretch of pale green wall; its transparent end bright as a daisy’s heart, glimmering with a sheen that could have only been exacted by hours of scrupulous attention and hearty helpings of varnish.
And lo, to its left, there resided a finely wrought vanity, its edges spilling over with the instruments of this brilliant art: various fine handkerchiefs, sparkling polish in small containers, and a few trailing ribbons.
To the right, a wardrobe divulged a host of white and gold, all fluttering finery and elegant gloves, and, most significantly, sleepwear!
But, the pièce de résistance, which left all the rest to shame, was placed at the far end of the room, facing a window which framed a view of Rausten’s coast: the bunk-bed.
Satisfied with the tour she had provided of her lodgings, L’Arachel paused before the bed. Now, here was a dilemma. Certainly, there may have been worse, but no plight had felt more pressing than this! How were they to rest until the matter of who was to assume the lofty height of the topmost bower was resolved? It was impossible. This would require at the very least an hour of deliberation; perhaps she ought to summon Rennac as an adjudicator…?
Oh, oh! It seemed that Eirika had already assumed the bottom bunk. Her hair fanned over her shoulder against the pillow as she pulled the duvet aside, and clambered in. It was a brilliant, horizon-melting blue, streaming over the whites of her borrowed pyjamas like rivulets of a mountain spring. She looked like a painting, the sort of tapestry meant to be hung in the great hall.
‘It is your room, L’Arachel, I couldn’t take your spot.’ The noblewoman murmured, ebullent with all the goodness possibly afforded to a mere mortal. Blinking once, and then twice, L’Arachel smiled.
‘Ah! Astutely judged, I am eternally grateful for you gift in leadership.’
And truly, for L’Arachel always spoke truth, she was. There were few who the great princess would condescend to obey, and Eirika was one of those fortunate number. It was not a privilege she bestowed lightly.
‘Are you ready for bed?’ Eirika asked. Ah, she had been so caught in the matter of who would sleep where, that L’Arachel hadn’t moved from her spot before her darling Eirika! How, by Latona's staff, had she forgotten herself so?
‘Certainly. I feel myself dangling on the precipice of slumber’ L’Arachel said, clambering her way to the top bunk. ‘Good night, Eirika.’
‘Goodnight, L’Arachel.’ A voice from beneath her floated upwards, delicate and slow with sleep. It was a rare sound; Eirika’s voice unguarded, and unguided by the demands of her position. The flush that pinkened the cheeks of Rausten’s finest was merely testament to the prodigy of this occurrence, of course.
They had shared quarters in Rausten during the war - but never since, not until this very moment, and the sudden change had imbued L’Arachel with a rather unbecoming shiftiness. The Princess turned onto one side, and then the other. She tried her back. She stifled her face in her pillow. Beneath her, Eirika was silent.
‘Eirika…?’
Not a sound.
‘Eirika… Hey, are you asleep yet?’
A shuffling, and the sounds of covers rustling.
‘Me neither. It seems the fates have conspired against an easy slumber. Would you like to hear a ballad I’ve been composing? I am certain it will lull the both of us to sleep. It’s about the adventures of a Beautiful, Peerless Princess of Beauty, and the most wonderful, noble heroine. Here, I’ll begin: Once upon a time…’
