#its bad enough you breaking in to tombs but then robbing them so you can charge people to look at them

[shit-people-probably-didnt-say]

Being able to see history is cool and all but why tf do museums think its alright to grave rob?

Especially so if they’re Egyptian tombs

[crackimagines]

To the End of a Dream (evil!Byleth AU)

AU Masterlist Here!

Withering Flower - FINALE (Part 1)

With the Knights of Nemesis retreating from Gronder and about to activate the Javelin of Liberation, Dimitri, Edelgard, and Claude leave the Church forces behind to pursue Byleth.

Their final clash will be at Garreg Mach.

-----

The Elites of the Fell Star Journal - “Second battle of Garreg Mach”

Having everything end where our plans began.

There was no need for anyone to point out the irony of the situation. 

Not only was the Empire attacking us, but the Kingdom and Alliance and even the damned Church raised arms against us, and only us.

One way or another that day, we all thought the same thing.

“This will finally end when hundreds of us lay dead at either side.”

-----

Byleth was in the classroom organizing his papers when he heard the doors open.

(Byleth) “Hm? Oh, class.”

The Black Eagles class walked up to him, looking very excited.

(Byleth) “What’s with the smile on everyone’s faces?”

(Dorothea) “Well, professor! The ball is tomorrow!”

(Edelgard) “Hah, I have no worthwhile memories of such an event, yet I am still looking forward to it.”

(Hubert) “As am I, in the sense that I look forward to destroying all the unworthy suitors that would swarm Lady Edelgard.”

(Ferdinand) “I admit, Edelgard is adorable, however I think I am far superior on the dance floor!”

(Dorothea) “You’re not a bad dancer Ferdie but you have some moves that are...hard to watch.”

(Linhardt) “I also know how to dance...in theory. Maybe I should participate as well.”

(Bernadetta) “N-NOT ME! You wouldn’t catch me dancing no sooner than you’d see a fish swimming through the sky!”

(Caspar) “You do tend to flop around like a fish on land after all! Though, speaking of it, do we get to choose who we dance with and stuff? I wonder who I’ll ask...”

(Petra) “I will fight with all I have!”

(Byleth) “Er...I don’t think fighting is what you’ll be doing, Petra-”

(Dorothea) “So, professor, got anyone in mind?~”

Byleth raised his eyebrow at her.

(Byleth) “I...don’t think I’m going to dance, I’m a mercenary not a-”

(Ferdinand) “No, you’re not a mercenary either, professor! You’re our teacher!”

(Bernadetta) “I-I won’t be dancing but, I’m sure watching you would be interesting!”

(Edelgard) “Our professor ball dancing?” Snrrk!

(Byleth) “I-I can dance! At least...I think I can?”

(Caspar) “You mean those ‘dances’ you do with the other mercenaries? That’s drunk dancing!”

(Hubert) “Seeing our professor ‘drunk dance’ at a ball as fancy as this would be very entertaining? May I humbly request you do this?”

(Byleth) “Absolutely not.”

Everyone began chatting about the dance, Byleth’s dancing skills and who they were going to ask to dance.

Edelgard watched the class engage in such a lively manner, it brought a smile to her face.

(Edelgard) “Excuse me, sorry to change the subject but I have a proposition. Five years from tomorrow, let’s all agree to meet up again!”

(Caspar) “Like a class reunion? That’s a great idea!”

(Petra) “Yes, you will get to see how much growing I have done! This is a good idea!”

(Byleth) “Five years time? Hah, I wonder how all you kids will be five years from now.”

(Linhardt) “And you won’t be enjoying a cozy retirement by then, professor?”

(Byleth) “Hah, not likely being honest. Though, no matter what I’ll be, I’ll be right back here in time.”

(Edelgard) “It’s a promise, professor. Don’t you forget it!”

-----

(Edelgard) “Five years...”

(Dimitri) “El?”

(Edelgard) “O-Oh, Dimitri. Sorry I...”

He stood next to Edelgard, looking up at the monastery.

(Dimitri) “We cannot turn the hands of time back to what it once was.”

(Edelgard) “I know but...maybe if I had done something different...Byleth wouldn’t be what he is now. If I had never started the war then...Maybe we could have all lived in peace together-”

(Claude) “What’s done is done, Edelgard.”

He walked up beside her, looking up with the two.

(Claude) “Much as I would have loved to live a life of friendship, reality doesn’t work that way. All we can do now is try to right our wrongs.”

(Dimitri) “No matter what, we’ll stay alive long enough to fix this world, together.”

(Edelgard) “...Together.”

(Claude) “I like the sound of that. But, right now we gotta hurry. We’ll be within Garreg Mach in an hour...”

(Edelgard) “Byleth...”

(Everyone) “...”

(Edelgard) “Alright. Let us put an end to it, once and for all.”

...

Byleth stood near the gates watching the three armies converge on their location.

(Soldier) “Sir, the Javelin of Liberation will be activating soon. All of the main forces who haven’t rebelled are out here in the gates.”

He nodded.

Ever since the massive casualties at Gronder, their morale was shaken and started to question their loyalty.

The fact that Shamir, Alois, and Leonie had defected did not help easing their fears.

There was an uprising within the barracks that had to be contained. No one had time to properly kill them.

(Soldier) “If I may sir?”

(Byleth) “Go ahead.”

(Soldier) “I don’t think there’s much chances of us surviving this fight, so you need to get to a safespot and ensure that the Javelin activates.”

Byleth turned to the soldier.

(Byleth) “You are right but...Not being with my men in this battle would surely break mora-”

(Soldier) “We’re all dying for this cause, one way or another. For us loyalists, I’d be more comfortable knowing our deaths ensured victory.”

Byleth looked at the armies who were getting closer, seeing Edelgard leading everyone alongside Dimitri and Claude.

(Byleth) “...Understood. Sothis watch over you all.”

The soldier nodded, and started directing commands to the others, preparing for battle.

Byleth went to the roof to watch the Javelin’s progress on activation.

The main core was in the Tombs where he found the Sword of the Creator, near the chapel.

(Byleth) “All of this blood I have shed...All the lives lost. All will soon be forgiven for everyone...”

...

(Dimitri) “Even though he is our old friend, we must not go easy today...”

(Claude) “As long as we pull off the victory, doesn’t matter how.”

(Edelgard) “Our victory must be absolute, no matter what it may take...”

Kingdom, Alliance, and Empire soldiers drew their swords, the House Leaders retainers coming up to them.

(Dedue) “We all are ready to lay down our lives to stop this madness.”

(Hilda) “Speak for yourself! I don’t plan on dying. I plan on kicking their butts, and living to tell the tale!”

(Hubert) “An inelegant way of putting it, but something I agree with nevertheless.”

...

The Blue Lions slowly drew out their weapons.

(Sylvain) “Can’t say that this is where I imagined the war taking us but...I’m glad we’re all together today.”

(Ingrid) “I will protect my homeland, and my people!”

(Felix) “Tch...If I die here, then the Old Man would never let me hear the end of it...”

(Annette) “My father is gone, but I will not be losing anyone else today!”

(Mercedes) “I’ll protect everyone, even if it means losing my own life!”

(Death Knight) “You will not be losing it when I am around, because I will make sure you die by my hands...”

(Ashe) “Lonato, Christophe, everyone...Today, we’ll make things right for everyone!”

...

The Golden Deers all stood behind Hilda.

(Marianne) “After seeing so much death firsthand, I now realize how precious life is. I won’t let everyone be robbed of such a wonderful thing!”

(Raphael) “I got my little sister, and she sure as heck isn’t going to get killed by this weird Javelin thing if I have anything to say about it!”

(Ignatz) “I’ll protect my family, and all of ours!”

(Lorenz) “What kind of noble would I be if I let a tragedy such as this slide? It is my honor to-”

(Lysithea) “Put a sock in it, would you?...Hmph, I’m not sure I have long to live but, I won’t be letting it end early!”

...

The Black Eagles Strike Force looked down sadly.

(Linhardt) “To think this is where 5 years would put us...”

(Bernadetta) “This one time, I won’t run away. If I die today, well...At least I know it was for all of you.”

(Caspar) “Randolph...even though I didn’t know you that well, I’ll make the professor pay for what he’s done to you, and your sister!”

(Dorothea) “Professor...”

(Ferdinand) “I am conflicted as well but, I will be protecting all of our homes.”

(Petra) “Whether it be Brigid or Fodlan, protect them I shall!”

...

(Edelgard) “Hubert. From the schematics and plans Leonie told us, you and the other retainers will lead the students to the core.”

(Hubert) “And you’ll be going for the control room where Byleth is, correct?”

She nodded.

(Hilda) “We’ll get it done, don’t you worry Miss Edelgard!”

(Dedue) “Leave it to us.”

Everyone looked back to the gates and took a deep breath.

Everything they did here would decide the fate of everyone.

[Apex of the World (Rain) - Fire Emblem Three Houses] 

(Edelgard) “FORWARD, NOW!”

(Dimitri) “FOR HONOR!”

Claude motioned forward, and charged with everyone else.

Demonic Beasts came barreling out of the gate, running at a full tilt sprint at them.

Dimitri jumped into the air slammed the lance straight into its head, making it stop and trip over, the corpse now acting as a mini shield for everyone.

The second beast tried going for Claude, only to miss as his Wyvern flew into the air, letting Claude land a shot in the eye.

Hilda, Lorenz, and Ignatz attacked from the sides, sticking their weapons into its head as it tried to break free from the barrage.

Marianne and Lysithea finished it off with a combination of holy and dark magic, burning parts of the body off or completely disintegrating it.

The third beast swung its claws at Edelgard, which was blocked by a magical barrier that reflected it back.

She stood still readying her axe as the rest of the class charged in front of her.

Caspar grabbed onto its head while it was recoiling, and started punching it in the eye, with Hubert, Dorothea, and Linhardt keeping it down with magic.

Ferdinand, Petra, and Bernadetta began taking down the soldiers that were accompanying the beasts and were eventually joined in by the others.

The Blue Lions rushed into the town with Dimitri, seeing the soldiers in formation, walking towards them.

(Ingrid) “RIGHT AND LEFT FLANKS!”

Soldiers emerged from the houses, catching several Kingdom soldiers off guard and killed them.

The Death Knight was almost caught off guard by two soldiers, but his horse leaped back, and cut both their heads off with his scythe.

(Dimitri) “KEEP AN EYE ON THE HOUSES, SOME ARE IN HIDING!”

Dimitri swiped his lance upwards, cutting off the limbs of one knight as he helped one of his own up.

The rest of the classes joined in, with troopers on all sides pouring from the other entrances.

(Nemesis Knight 1) “THEY’RE IN, SHUT THE GATES!”

The Gates closed behind Edelgard, seeing that a good portion of her soldiers were still out there, alongside Claude’s and Dimitri’s.

Claude’s Wyvern landed on a porch right in front of the gate and motioned to everyone.

(Claude) “PREVENT ANY REINFORCEMENTS FROM COMING IN OUTSIDE, AND FIND A WAY TO BLAST THESE GATES OPEN!”

(Alliance Captain) “Yes, Milord!”

Claude nodded and flew back into the fight that was ensuing in the town.

Felix and Sylvain struck down a soldier trying to charge Annette and Mercedes who were trying to cast a spell.

As another squad tried to come at them from behind, Ingrid swooped in, knocking them all back with her Pegasus and skewered one of the soldiers on her lance, making her drop it and pulling out a sword.

Annette and Mercedes shot a line of ice spikes that shot out of the ground, sending a battalion flying into the buildings around them.

Ashe took out the enemy snipers trying to shoot Ingrid, and Dedue protected him from any attackers coming from behind. 

A soldier turned the corner and ran straight into Dedue’s shield, making him kick the soldier down, tumbling onto other soldiers falling at the bottom.

Once the Town Square was clear, they all moved to the gates.

However, more and more soldiers began to surround them.

(Dimitri) “Damn, there’s no end to them!”

Dimitri cut down several soldiers, twirling his lance and impaling a soldier behind him without turning to look at him.

Edelgard crushed a soldier completely into the concrete, breaking it and making blood splatter everywhere as Hubert shot a fireball into the building, making everything inside explode.

A soldier opened the door from the building, completely on fire as he fell to the ground dead.

(Edelgard) “We will not be able to make it to Monastery at this rate!”

(Hilda) “Claude, take Dimitri and Edelgard to the monastery, there’s no time to wait up on us!”

They all looked back to their retainers, realizing if they had any chance, they had to be left behind.

(Dedue) “Your highness, go!”

(Hubert) “We have no intention of dying just yet!”

(Hilda) “GO YOU IDIOT!”

Claude nodded, and had Dimitri and Edelgard hop on.

(Claude) “This ride’s gonna be really bumpy, so hang on!”

His Wyvern shot off towards the Monastery, leaving everyone behind.

(Dedue) “Now, it’s up to us!”

The soldiers who accompanied the classes were finally wiped out by the overwhelming numbers of Knights of Nemesis, who slowly began to surround them.

(Hilda) “Looks like they still haven’t found a way to enter in yet! We need reinforcements!”

(Hubert) “EVERYONE, HOLD YOUR GROUND!”

All the classes stood back to back, drawing out their weapons as they moved closer in.

(Ingrid) “So many of them...!”

(Lorenz) “I admit, I’m more than a little worried!”

(Hilda) “I never thought I’d be dying back at the schoolgrounds!”

(Dedue) “How about side by side with your classmates?”

(Hilda) “...No!”

(Hubert) “Both of you be quiet, we need a plan!”

(Bernadetta) “You know what...?!”

Everyone turned to Bernadetta who grasped her bow firmly.

(Bernadetta) “TO HELL WITH ALL OF YOU, NONE OF YOU ARE GONNA KILL ANY OF US TODAY!”

She took the chance to fire her arrow straight through someone’s head, making the soldiers flinch.

(Death Knight) “Well said, little one! General Vestra, you have your plan!”

Before they could react, the Death Knight jumped into the crowd, swinging his sycthe left and right and decapitating and chopping people into pieces.

Now, the rest of the class began attacking, charging and making their enemies back up in fear.

Ashe and Petra pulled out a sword and started trading blows with anyone who got too close to their circle, followed by Felix and Sylvain.

Annette and Mercedes went back into the circle as everyone was keeping the close combat soldiers at bay, alongside Marianne, Lysithea, Dorothea, Linhardt and Hubert.

Spells ranging from healing to offensive were being cast, keeping everyone in fighting shape as they slowly turned the odds back into their favor.

Ingrid grabbed Ignatz by the hand and onto her Pegasus, leading them towards archers who were about to fire into the crowd.

Ignatz dropped down and sliced most of their bows in half, with one archer being able to shoot into the crowd.

Dedue grabbed his shield and deflected an arrow that was about to hit HIlda.

(Dedue) “Ineffective!”

(Hilda) “Thanks!”

She said cheerfully as she swung her axe down, cutting someone in half, and kicking the legs toward a crowd.

Caspar and Raphael used their gauntlets to pulverize the enemies, charging straight in together, crushing heads and stabbing through stomachs.

A group tried to gang up on Raphael, who grabbed one of the soldiers by the legs and swung his body like a weapon, sending troopers flying back from the sheer force.

Ferdinand and Lorenz had to get off their horses to fight in such close quarters, elegantly dodging with their lances and striking back, almost as if they were fencing instead.

The more that everyone cut down, the more soldiers that took their place coming in.

(Ashe) “S-So many!”

(Dedue) “WHERE ARE THE REINFORCEMENTS?!”

As if on cue, one of the gates close by completely exploded, shooting debris all over the floor.

Everyone stopped fighting and looked towards the noise, unsure of whose side it was.

(Nemesis Knight) “That came from the barracks we had in town!”

More Knights of Nemesis emerged from the smoke, raising their weapons.

The students clenched their teeth, raising their weapons as the Knights of Nemesis started to cheer.

Their cheering stopped when they saw Thunder Catherine step out in front of them.

(Catherine) “Sorry to keep you all waiting!”

An arrow flew out of the smoke, hitting a soldier dead in the eye, letting the Knights with Catherine charge out into the fray.

They were joined by Knights of Seiros, adding more to the chaos and confusion.

(Nemesis Knight) “DAMN IT, THE DEFECTORS GOT OU-AUGH!”

A soldier had an axe thrown into his chest, and another was taken out by a woman on horseback.

(Shamir) “Looks like we made it in time.”

(Alois) “Had to make a quick detour!”

(Leonie) “Come on, the Monastery guards will be too busy to deal with us!”

The classes looked off into the distance and saw smoke coming from Garreg Mach.

Even the demonic beasts were having a hard time dealing with the Defectors.

(Shamir) “The beasts we made were ordered not to attack our own forces in the event someone possessed them or Those Who Slither were still around. Obviously, that came to bite them in the ass.”

(Hilda) “Then what are we waiting for, let’s get a move on!”

Everyone nodded, and left the fighting to the soldiers, running towards Garreg Mach.

Catherine was leading the charge, cutting down anyone foolish enough to get in her way, with the classes coming in right behind her.

(Alois) “We’re heading towards the chapel’s Tomb! That’s where the core is!”

Everyone nodded and made a mad dash for the chapel.

Able to run through most of the mayhem with the Loyalists and Defectos fighting each other, they ran down the stairs and saw the core.

It was a massive glowing crystal that was so bright, it almost illuminated the entire tomb.

(Leonie) “There it is, let’s go!”

(Dedue) “A moment, Leonie.”

(Leonie) “Huh?”

(Hilda) “Where are the guards at?”

Everyone remained silent until they saw a shadowy figure form in front of the crystal.

(Hubert) “That sword shape!”

Catherine turned her attention to the weapon the figure was holding.

(Catherine) “The Sword of the Creator! Damn it, it’s Byleth!”

(Linhardt) “N-No it isn’t! Look at the shape of that person!”

(Death Knight) “It is someone worse...”

The core pulsated, and now lit the entire room up to where everyone could see the figure clear as day.

...

“Who...WHO ARE YOU ALL?!”

(Mage) “Sir, the ressurection is working, and he’s under our control.”

(Byleth) “Amazing, Thales. Simply amazing. Trying to resurrect this man against Seiros. How symbolic.”

“That sword...that is mine...! And that crest...!”

(Byleth) “It was never yours to begin with. Sothis belongs to no one.”

“Your hair...your eyes..that means...YOU’RE ONE OF THEM-”

(Byleth) “Kneel.”

“HRRGH! I...CANNOT...MOVE...”

(Byleth) “This is your duty, and you will obey. You are to protect this room from invaders, and you will forfeit your life in order to protect it.”

“I AM A KING! YOU CANNOT CHAIN ME DOWN LIKE-”

(Byleth) “I can, and will. I’ve read the reports on what you are. You’re nothing more than a pathetic old man, but a useful one I suppose. Put him into stasis and have him reemerge once someone has infiltrated.”

(Mage) “Yes sir.”

“YOU WHELPS, DO YOU NOT KNOW WHO I AM?!”

...

[God-Shattering Star - Fire Emblem Three Houses]

(Hubert) “Nemesis...!”

“You...YOU ALL WILL DI-”

(Hilda) “GO BACK TO HELL YOU CRUSTY OLD BASTARD!”

(Leonie) “Goddess, that’s what Byleth was doing all this time down here?!”

(Dedue) “Tch, doesn’t matter! We must get to the core, from the way it’s glowing its about to activate!”

(Catherine) “THEN LET’S DO THIS! EVERYONE, CHARGE!”

(Everyone) “HYAAAAAAAAA-”

(Nemesis) “NO ONE WILL GET IN MY WAY TO DESTROY SEIROS AND HER CRONIES!”

Nemesis charged into the students, and clashed swords with Catherine.

The swings were met blow for blow, both of them too fast to actually make any decisive hits.

Alois and Leonie came in from the sides, attempting to flank him.

Kicking Catherine away, he cut the head off Leonie’s horse, making her fly off and the horse making Alois roll out the way.

Bernadetta, Ignatz, and Ashe fired several arrows at him while he was in place, making him back off.

Activating the whip, he deflected the arrows and swung it the archers.

Ignatz managed to dodge in time, but Ashe and Bernadetta were hit by it, making them hit the floor.

Leonie and Alois charged again, Alois slamming the axe onto the floor with Nemesis rolling out the way, blocking Leonie’s hit in time.

Pulling back his sword, he swung at Alois, cutting his axe in half and striking him down, a visible scar on his armor as he fell down.

Leonie sustained a similar injury, though without the blessing of armor, having blood spill out.

(Hilda) “LEONIE!”

(Hubert) “FOCUS!”

Nemesis jumped into the air, slamming his bastardized version of the Sword of the Creator into the ground, creating a mini shockwave.

Dedue, Hilda, and Hubert, and Catherine were sent flying and hit the pillars behind them, falling onto the ground.

Annette and Mercedes fired a multitude of spells at him, Nemesis using the whip to absorb the spells with his sword.

Quickly deactivating the whip, he countered both the Death Knight and Felix’s attacks, who came from his sides.

Nemesis grabbed Felix and threw him onto the Death Knight, making him fall off his horse.

The horse went ballistic, and started charging at Nemesis out of pure fear, which he cut in half with a single slice.

He turned to his right and saw Ferdinand, Lorenz, and Sylvain charging with their lances in three separate directions. 

Flicking his wrist, the whip reactivated and he swung it upwards, decapitating all the horses and inflicting cuts that went through all three of their armors.

He noticed that his shadow was growing larger, and looked upwards seeing Ingrid trying to divebomb him with the Pegasus.

Rolling to the side and taking several swings, both unable to land a solid hit on each other.

Nemesis grabbed Ingrid by the arm, and pulled her towards him and off her mount.

He punched her in the stomach, denting the armor and making her cough up blood.

The force which he grabbed her dislocated Ingrid’s arm, and he threw her into the closest wall, making the wall crack using Ingrid as a projectile.

When she fell onto the floor, it was then he noticed that Lysithea, Annette, and Dorothea were charging up a spell.

It was starting to become brighter than the core in the room.

(Lysithea) “FIRE!”

Unleashing a beam of dark magic, it completely incinerated the pillars next to Nemesis, with him barely dodging in time.

He was about to run before he noticed that parts of his arms were singed off, making it hard to hold the Sword of the Creator.

Flicking his wrist, he was about to strike at the three mages until it got caught onto something.

Looking back, he saw the Death Knight’s scythe was holding the whip.

Caspar and Raphael leaped out from cover, and drove their gauntlets into his head, making an audible cracking noise.

Instead of falling over, Nemesis mustered all his strength to throw the Death Knight around like a ragdoll, finally releasing his grip.

Having nothing to restrain him, he headbutted Caspar so hard that blood came out from both their heads, and kicked Raphael into the ground.

Nemesis aimed his sword at Raphael’s heart, but his hand was shot by a precision shot, making the sword fly off from his hands.

Turning back, he saw Shamir and Petra, loading up arrows.

He ran up to them, leaving his sword behind and using rage as his weapons, raised his fists.

Petra and Shamir dodged his punch, as he punched the wall and created two massive holes.

They took out their daggers and went for the his knees, slicing the major arteries and hopping away quickly before he could retaliate.

From this position, Nemesis could see the room clearly.

All the mages in the room immediately went to healing the injured, Mercedes, Marianne and Linhardt healing the gravely injured first.

However it was at this point he realized he didn’t see Hubert, Catherine, Hilda or Dedue from where he knocked them out.

He saw Lysithea in the distance, firing at a spell behind a rock.

Then, the bright light appeared right above him.

Catherine was warped right on top of him, slamming Thunderbrand into his arms, which he tried to use as a shield.

Feeling his bones start to split apart, he then realized where the other three were.

Right beside Catherine.

Hilda slammed her axe into his legs, severing it, which made him lose balance, leading to his arm getting cut off by Thunderbrand.

Dedue slammed his shield with all his strength on top of Nemesis’s head, crushing it and splattering his head all over the floor.

Everyone hopped out the way as Hubert casted his most powerful dark spell, completely overwhelming Nemesis’s body and vaporizing it into dust.

Once his body was gone, the mock Sword of the Creator dissipated into the air.

(Shamir) “Leonie, Alois!”

Marianne grabbed Leonie while Mercedes helped Alois up, trying to heal their injuries.

(Leonie) “D-Don’t worry about us, the core...!”

They all looked to the core which was pulsating faster and faster.

(Shamir) “Shit, it’s about to activate!”

(Alois) “Y-you-agh! N-Need to overload it with magic! HURRY!”

Dorothea, Linhardt, Lysithea, and Annette all started to cast their strongest spells and aimed it at the core.

(Shamir) “NOW!”

At the same time, all of them shot from their hands, ranging from ice, holy, dark, meteoric spells onto the core, hitting it all at once.

The core exploded into fragments, the energy overtaking the room in a bright light.

[SONG END]

Catherine held her eyes shut, expecting to lose all feeling from the blast, until she opened an eye.

The room was just lit dimly with the orange torches that were in the room, no longer outshined by the core.

She looked around her, seeing all the students were having a similar reaction.

(Leonie) “We...did it...hah...!”

Marianne felt Leonie go limp, which prompted her to start shaking her.

(Hilda) “L-LEONIE!”

(Marianne) “I-It’s the shock from her blood loss, I can still save her!”

(Catherine) “And the others?!”

(Sylvain) “A-Agh...right here...!”

Sylvain was helped up by Felix, but they nearly tripped over themselves once they saw how Ingrid was.

Ferdinand and Lorenz helped each other up, which Linhardt began to heal the both of them, alongside Dorothea.

(Hubert) “That was far closer than I’d like...”

(Hilda) “N-No kidding...!”

(Dedue) “Wait a second, our lords!”

Everyone’s eyes widened when Dedue said that.

They may have taken out the core.

But what about Byleth?

-------

[eeveevie]

after the storm

The Guild is still reeling from Mercer's betrayal. There's work to be done, and questions to be answered and all Brynjolf wants to do is kiss Fiona again. 

Takes place after Betrayal and Forgiveness, and is totally a self-gratifying comfort fluff fest I wrote just for kicks. 

Brynjolf x F!Dragonborn 

3862 words | Ao3

Brynjolf watched as Delvin paced in front of the Guildmaster’s desk, brows furrowed in deep thought as he explained the situation.  

“Riftweald Manor is still crawling with goons,” he spoke, turning on his heel. “How much coin did Mercer have to pay those brutes to keep the place on lockdown while he hides away?”

Brynjolf shrugged. “He was hardly there to begin with. That oaf Vald still roams the gardens, eh?”

“Pfft, that bastard is loyal to whoever is paying the most,” Delvin spat. He finally stopped pacing long enough to peer at Brynjolf from across the desk. “We could try bribing him. There’s just got to be somethin’ in that house that Mercer left behind.”

“With what coin do you suppose we bribe him with?” Brynjolf asked, crossing his arms. He was sympathetic to Delvin’s anger, but they were getting nowhere. As much as he despised the idea, they would most likely need to resort to bloodshed. Brynjolf shuddered to think he’d stoop to Mercer’s level.  

He rubbed at his jaw, wondering about other possibilities. “There’s the balcony ramp,” he considered. “It would take a well-placed shot to bring it down.”

“Well, well,” Delvin’s tone perked up. “Lucky for us we know a beaut’ that’s handy with a bow.”  

Brynjolf frowned, knowing it was out of question. Fiona was not ready for a mission right now—especially this. She had barely just returned to the Guild with the news of Mercer’s betrayal—with the news of her survival. It hadn’t even been a full day, and Brynjolf still hadn’t had the chance to speak with her about the details of what occurred. What she needed was time, and he was giving it to her.

As if Delvin could read Brynjolf’s mind, he sighed, posture wilting as he leaned against the Guildmaster’s desk. “Poor girl,” he lamented. His eyes flicked up, remembering. “Didn’t mean ta’ interrupt the two of you earlier.”

Brynjolf attempted to feign ignorance, but his friend saw right through the façade. Still, Brynjolf perked his brow up, pursing his lips in a tight line as he dared Delvin to tease him about his relationship with Fiona. However undefined that relationship might have been. A part of him—perhaps more than rational given current circumstances—was annoyed that Delvin had managed to interrupt the moment of solace he had found with Fiona since her return. Or maybe it was a good thing the Breton had disturbed them before Brynjolf got carried away by his baser desires, or worse, his emotions. But—by the Gods—he wanted to kiss Fiona again, and it was Delvin’s bloody fault that he hadn’t had the chance to do so yet.

“Didn’t realize you were so sweet on each other,” his friend spoke in a calmer, less playful tone. “Figured it was all a game for you, like always.”

Brynjolf relaxed, despite the fact he was betraying the carefully perfected persona he had crafted after all his time in the Guild. Delvin didn’t seem to mind, or care, or had seen through it long ago. “Is it really that difficult to believe that it’s not a game with Fiona?” he asked. “That I’ve changed? That I might actually lo—”

The words stalled on his tongue, prompting Delvin’s eyes to widen in alarm. He grinned like a madman, and stood up straight. “Oh I definitely shouldn’t have interrupted you two.”

“No,” Brynjolf agreed, moving to place his hands on his hips. “You really shouldn’t have.”

Delvin waved his hand as if to dismiss the entire disagreement. “I can help play Lady Mara later,” he joked. “Right now there are more pressing issues.”

Regardless of Brynjolf’s irritation, Delvin was right. But he was also right about his earlier point. He needed to talk to Fiona about breaking into Riftweald Manor. It wouldn’t be an easy ask—but since when had anything in Brynjolf’s life been so simple?

He kneaded at the tension he felt at his shoulders. “Where’s the lass now?”

“So it’s my plan after all, eh?” Delivn chortled, before shrugging as he peered over his shoulder. “Last I saw her, she was in the Flaggon.”

It was all Brynjolf needed to hear to start moving across the Cistern, ignoring the little smirk Delvin flashed as he walked away. “Try to keep your hands to yourself this time!”

Being that it was already well past midnight, the Flaggon was devoid of its usual Guild members, most likely out scraping together what coin they could thanks to Mercer’s treachery. Brynjolf spotted who he was searching for at the bar, Fiona perched on a barstool at the corner nearest to the fire where Vekel was absentmindedly stirring a pot of stew. Her back was to him, so it was difficult to discern her current mood. Judging by the idle conversation she was keeping with Vekel, he felt comfortable enough to approach.

“There you are,” he called, pressing one hand to her back as he sat on the stool next to her. He faltered when she flinched away from his touch, startled by his sudden appearance. “Sorry lass, didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

Fiona relaxed when she glanced at him, managing the tiniest of smiles. Her hood was pulled down, most of her blonde hair pulled over one shoulder—clearly in an attempt to hide the still healing scar that Mercer had inflicted. Brynjolf had seen a glimpse of it earlier when they had been alone in the back of the Cistern. A part of him hoped she trusted him enough to let him see it again. He hoped she knew it wasn’t necessary to cover it like a mark of shame, but for now, he understood.

Vekel served them both tankards of ale alongside a bowl of stew, smiling as he offered Fiona a plate of fresh bread. Brynjolf watched as she eagerly took the food, steam rising from the bread as she tore it apart with her fingers. She allowed it to soak up some of the soup before quickly bringing it to her mouth. The sight made Brynjolf grin, but also wonder just how long she had gone without a proper meal.

Fiona seemed to notice he was watching, and slowed her movements. “How was your chat with Delvin?”

“Hmm,” Brynjolf contemplated answering her question as he took a bite of his own food. “Another dead end, it seems.”

“You can tell me the truth,” she said flatly. “You were with him for a while. Must’ve been more than just that.”

Brynjolf softly laughed, nodding as Fiona saw through his badly formed lie. “Aye, we…have a plan to find Mercer.”

Fiona only nodded, waiting for Brynjolf to continue. He hesitated, thinking back to their earlier conversation, or rather, lack thereof. He wanted to be patient with her and tread carefully. Despite the heartfelt reunion, the ache of how tumultuous their fight before her disappearance was still lingered. There were so many unanswered questions, and it was taking everything in him not to blurt them out at her in interrogation. As if she could tell he was lost in his thoughts, Fiona paused in her eating, idly pushing her spoon around the edge of the bowl.  

“I should tell you what happened at Snowveil Sanctum,” she said. “I owe you some answers.”

“You owe me nothing,” he tried to counter, but she shook her head. He looked up, eyeing Vekel in a way that had the Flaggon barkeep taking the hint to hide himself away and give the two some privacy. Brynjolf nodded then, allowing her to continue on her own time.

“The ruins were just like any other Nord tomb I’ve been to in my travels outside the Guild,” she started in a low voice. “Mercer glided through that place—he knew every trap, every trick that awaited us.”

“I knew something was wrong the moment we approached the puzzle door and Mercer was unable to unlock it without a dragon claw.” Fiona paused when she noted Brynjolf’s brows knit in confusion. “You need to do more grave robbing,” she tried to joke with a grim smile. “It’s a puzzle door, impossible to open otherwise. But Mercer unlocked it like it was a rusty padlock on a shed.”

“How?” Brynjolf asked.

Fiona shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Two eagles and a snake,” she mumbled—Brynjolf wasn’t sure of the meaning. “Beyond the door was only darkness. Mercer practically pushed me to go first, where Karliah ambushed us, well, shot me with a paralyzing arrow.”

“She shot you?” his alarm calmed as Fiona reached over to rest one hand over his.

“She saved my life,” she reminded him. “It was a neutralizer of some sort, to keep me alive after Mercer…slit my throat.”

Fiona instinctively reached for her neck, but Brynjolf grabbed at her hand, tightening her fingers in his own. Again, the rage bubbled within—Mercer had returned to the Cistern with lies of Fiona’s death, and used it against Brynjolf as a cruel form of punishment. In a way, he still felt guilty for ever letting her leave with the former Guildmaster.

“Whatever he told you I said in the end—”

“Aye Fiona,” he cut her off, squeezing her hand and scooting closer. “I know. I’m not that big a fool to believe a spiteful lie when I hear one.”

“We know Mercer is a murderer,” she continued. “Gallus’ journal also spoke of Nightingales. It’s likely why he killed Gallus in the first place.”

“Nightingales?” Brynjolf was more confused than before. “That’s just a tale we tell the footpads to keep them in line.”

Fiona solemnly shook her head. “By the way Karliah speaks of them, I’m not so certain. She also told me she was behind Goldenglow and Honningbrew. An effort to make Mercer look bad in front of Maven.”

“To what end?” he wondered. “Clever, though.”

A dull quiet followed and eventually, Fiona pulled her hand away to take a drink from her ale. She stared at him as he copied her movements, the two sitting in an unsettling silence until their drinks were finished, meals hardly touched. “So this plan of yours,” she mused. “To find him.”

Brynjolf finally relented. It was time. “We need to break into Mercer’s home and search for anything that could tell us where he’s gone.”

“We?” she questioned.

“Like I’d have you do it alone,” he replied. “It’s the Riftweald Manor near the temple. Delvin has ensured he’s not there, but the place is crawling with thugs. For once, I’m not inclined to care about killing anyone that stands in our way.”

Fiona firmly nodded. “Let’s take care of it then.”

And then she let out a long, drawn out yawn. Brynjolf chuckled as her cheeks flushed in embarrassment, one hand flying to her mouth to cover the trail end of the telling sign of her exhaustion.

“Perhaps after you’ve had some sleep,” he suggested. “I’m surprised you stayed here so late, what with that fancy estate of yours.”

Fiona pulled a face at his tease—he now knew precisely how she had managed to fund the purchase of Honeyside in Riften, and it wasn’t through thieving and debauchery—no, it was through heroism and being the Gods-blessed Dragonborn. Another topic he still had many questions to ask her on, but that was for another evening.

“I’m going to stay in the Cistern tonight.”

“Oh?”

“Knowing that Mercer is still alive, somewhere out there…it doesn’t matter how fortified the locks on the homestead’s doors are, or how many daggers I keep beneath my pillowcase,” she breathed out a defeated sigh. “I’d feel safer here in the Guild with everyone.”

That familiar pang of guilt settled in Brynjolf’s gut once more—Fiona’s fear was not something she deserved. This trauma would take time to heal, regardless of what happened to Mercer, and Brynjolf wanted to be there for her every step of the way. Fate had changed their dynamic, pushing it forward and down a path faster than Brynjolf could’ve ever imagined, but he was determined to keep up.

Brynjolf had an idea. Fiona didn’t have to hide away in the Ratway, and he could help prove it to her. Delvin’s warning to keep his hands to himself flashed in the back of his mind, but he shook it away, listening to his heart for once.

“Come on lass,” he encouraged, urging her to stand up. Fiona peered at him with knitted brows, unmoving. “Let’s get you to Honeyside.”

“I just got done explaining—”

“You don’t have to be alone,” he clarified sincerely. When she still seemed unconvinced by the suggestion, he flashed a grin. “Not when I’m there to protect you.”

Fiona rolled her eyes at his tease, playfully pushing at his shoulder even as she stood up. “Last time you said that, I was poisoned by assassins. Or was it when we were attacked by bears? Or when you stepped on that fire mine—”

“Isn’t your bunk in the Cistern next to Delvin?” Brynjolf pondered aloud. “Between the snoring, and the daydreaming of Vex…”

“You’re insufferable,” Fiona huffed, but her smile was encouraging. Brynjolf wrapped his arm around her shoulder as the two walked back through the Cistern.

“Aye, but you love me anyways.”

Outside, a small trickle of rain had started to fall, a light mist blanketing the entire city. It was eerie and peaceful all the same—a reason why this was such prime hours for thieves to get their work done. The stonemason coffin slid back into place as they exited the Cistern, the two pausing to don their hoods before Fiona led them across the courtyard and market towards her home. Brynjolf studied the shadows, wondering if they could really believe the news that no trace of Mercer had been found in Riften. By the time they reached the eastside entrance, his senses had settled, but he could tell Fiona was on high alert.

She glanced over her shoulder before flashing her key, quickly undoing the lock before ushering the two of them inside. This wasn’t the first time Brynjolf had stepped foot in the homestead, but something about this visit felt different. Honeyside was a modest home, seemingly unfit for somebody that was called Dragonborn, but it was perfect for Fiona. A small kitchen nook and fireplace in the front entrance, and around the corner, a writing desk, numerous chests and her large bed, covered in furs. There was a cellar as well, where Fiona kept her alchemy supplies and surplus ingredients.

Fiona idled near the fireplace, stoking the logs to encourage the flames to grow and warm and light the dark room. She pushed back her hood and glanced at him, and he noted the hint of anxiousness there—it wouldn’t do. If there was one thing he didn’t want, was for their friendship—relationship to chance for the worse. No awkward looks or hesitation with words. It had always been so easy before, and that’s the way he wanted it to remain.

“Come here now, Fiona,” he beckoned, opening his arms to her, inviting her into an embrace. She turned to meet him, wrapping her arm tight around his torso, the other hooked over his shoulder. Her head rested against the curve of his neck, nose nuzzling there as she breathed out. He tucked her closer to his chest, one hand cradling the back of her head. He craned his head down to press a kiss to her temple. “I’m here for you.”

“I know,” she responded, softly.

Brynjolf smiled, gently peeling her away just enough so he could see her face. There was the faintest familiar glow that he had missed while she was away, a look that he never wanted to be without. “I care about you.”

“I know,” she repeated with a nod, and the tiniest hint of flirtatious smile. “I missed you, Bryn—we make a good team.”

“That we do lass,” he agreed with a smirk. Divines knew he never wanted to be apart from her again, if he had anything to say about it. He refrained from letting his heart take too much control of the moment—no need to pour out so much emotion in one evening, not when she had only just returned. Instead, his eyes flicked down to her lips, and he remembered how rudely they had been interrupted before.

“Can I kiss you?” His own question surprised him as he moved his hand to hold the side of her face.

Fiona raised a brow and tilted her chin up slightly. “Suddenly you’re asking?”

“I can be gentlemanly when I need to be,” he countered.

“It doesn’t suit you,” she teased. “I rather prefer the lecherous Brynjolf, always flirting and taking what he—”

Fine, Brynjolf thought as he interrupted her words, covering her mouth with his own. She smiled against his lips, arms around him tightening as she kissed him in return. It was sweet, far gentler than their emotion filled reunion earlier that evening. Not that this kiss held any less emotion, but Brynjolf felt far lighter—happier.

“So you’ll stay?” Fiona asked as she pulled away, pressing one last soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. She was beaming, but holding it back. “To protect me, of course?”

“Right,” Brynjolf laughed, reluctantly peeling his arms away from her. He peered around the house before eyeing the ladder. “I’ll start my patrol in the cellar.”

“Stay down there long enough for me to change,” she instructed, rolling her eyes when she noted his eyebrows perk up. “No peeking.”

Brynjolf lowered himself down the ladder into the darkness, listening to the floorboards above creak and fabric shuffle as Fiona changed. His mind wavered, and he stood there in a momentary haze as he imagined her undressing, then cursed at his lewd thoughts. But knowing her naked form was just a ladder’s crawl away was tempting. He gulped—he really had told Delvin the truth, he was (somewhat) a changed man—the fact he hadn’t rushed back up to ravage her already.

Instead, he took the nearby lantern and combed over the storage bins, kicking at sacks and hunching down at areas where a thief or assassin would hide. Quickly though, it was obvious the cellar was devoid of any harm. Well, except for Fiona’s poisonous mushrooms and janis root extract.  

“Careful of the lavender,” Fiona’s voice called from upstairs. Brynjolf skirted around the baskets of flora, pinching the bridge of his nose so the offending flowers wouldn’t upset his allergies, as he inspected every last corner of the basement once more on his way back to the ladder.

Fiona was sitting on the edge of the bed as he stepped back onto the first floor, changed into a simple white cotton dress meant for sleeping in. She was now carefully removing the braids from her hair, piling the metal pins and little ties that kept them together in a neat pile on the nearby table. Brynjolf slowly circled around the room, inspecting the eastern and western door’s locks, all the while glancing over to catch Fiona inspecting his movements.

He flashed a grin as he finally sat in the chair before her writing desk, inspecting the wide away of notes, maps and books she had gathered in her travels. Just how had her true nature gone unnoticed by him? He wanted to know more…eventually.

“It’ll be just like having first watch,” he joked, crossing his arms as he leaned back to get comfortable. “Well, except this time for the whole night.”

“You aren’t staying there,” she commented, shifting her body under the blankets and furs.

“Is that so?”

Fiona only beckoned him with a nod of her head as she settled against her pillows, bright eyes watching him carefully through the dim lighting of the room. Slowly, Brynjolf stood and approached the bed, hovering over her for a long moment as he contemplated her offer. She’d never invited him before—despite the fact he’d found himself asleep and awoken beside her in the same space on a few occasions before. At any other time he would’ve made a vulgar comment about sharing her bed, but this wasn’t the time. This was entirely new, and exciting, and made his brain, heart, and loins ache all at once.

Finally, he sat on the edge of the bed, glancing over his shoulder to look at her as he removed his boots. She watched him the entire time as he moved, shifting to remove his belt and daggers to the nightstand where they would be safe, but still within reach—just in case. He stood again, undoing the metal buckles of his Guild armor before sliding it off his shoulders and draping it across the wooden dresser at the foot of the bed. He’d leave his leathers on, no way she had a change of pants for him at this point, but smirked when she eyed his chest and the loose linen shirt. He brought it up over his head, chuckling when he noted the soft flush on her cheeks—it wasn’t like she hadn’t seen him shirtless before.

“Like what you see, lass?”

“Perhaps,” she answered, with a coy smile.

She scooted across the bed to create a void large enough for him to lay in, eyeing him as he pulled back the covers to do just that. Brynjolf stretched out next to her on his back, suddenly very aware of how little sleep he had gotten over the last few weeks while she had been presumed dead. His body instantly relaxed, welcoming the softness of the blankets and furs and her. Fiona’s hand reached out to him, and he turned his head to find her hesitantly seeking out to touch him.

Brynjolf swiftly moved his arm to wrap around her, inviting her to snuggle close to his side. Fiona did just that, one arm hooking around his chest, her legs sliding against his as her feet playfully tickled against his.

“This is…nice,” Fiona mumbled as she nuzzled her head against the curve of his shoulder.

Brynjolf softly chuckled, running one of his hands down her arm as he settled into the comfort that was her bed and embrace. “I told you my chest made a decent pillow.”

“If only I had believed you before,” she sighed, her breath a delightful tingle across his skin. “Thank you for believing us—me. For staying with me tonight.”

“I’ll stay with you every night if you need me to,” he quickly assured.

Fiona’s quiet laughter warmed his chest. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? An excuse to stay in my bed, hmm?”

“With you, lass!” he reiterated, squeezing her into his side as she squealed playfully. They relaxed then, finally letting the warmth of the fire lull them to sleep. She yawned, turning her head ever so slightly to press a fleeting kiss against his shoulder blade. “Goodnight Brynjolf.”

“Goodnight Fiona,” he replied. He turned his head down to watch as her eyes fluttered closed, and eventually, her breathing even out as she fell asleep. “Love.”

[ernmark]

So... a plot is forming with the juno thinks peter is dead thing? This is an official invitation to please continue.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Brahma recently. It has absolutely nothing to do with current events. Nope. Not at all.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 3 (Peter’s POV)

The next time Juno contacts Nureyev, it’s aconference call along with Rita and Alessandra. 

Alessandra might be a civilian now, but she’sa soldier, and she knows how to fight a war, even if it’s one Nureyev’s sidelost before he was born. 

Rita, for her part, is more than a secretaryand a genius with code: she’s a conniseur of stories. She understands theirpatterns, she knows how they unfold, and she sees how those patterns overlay ontop of reality. 

And Juno… well, he knows a few things of hisown.

The plan is made.

After that, getting out of Hyperion Cityunfollowed is easy: nobody knows the sewers better than the rabbits, and nobodyknows the rabbits like Juno. They even help him jack a car when he, Rita andAlessandra come out on the far side of Oldtown, where the shields are weakestand surveillance is nonexistent. Sure, the ride across the desert might not bethe most fragrant he’s ever had, but at least they aren’t followed. Most likelytheir assailants are too busy looking for all the places he might go toground—Mick’s, or Valles Vicky’s, or even with one of his old clients. But hisdestination isn’t on any map. 

Miasma made sure of that.

One of Alessandra’s old war buddies smugglesthem offworld; apparently he owes her enough not to ask about the crates theybring along, especially after Rita rids his navigation system of the viruses hepicked up while perusing some less than savory archives.

It takes more than a month to reach Brahma’ssystem, and every day they lose is measured in lives. The ruling class mighthave been reluctant to use the Guardian Angel System to pick off every singlepetty thief who stepped out of line, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t beencollecting names. Now that Nureyev is supposedly dead, they’re making up for twentyyears of lost time. 

It’s a slaughter down there. But it’s onethey’re going to put a stop to, once and for all.

It’s still too dangerous to land on Brahma, sothey rendezvous with the rebels on one of its lesser moons, a scenic littlerock called Ketaki with barely more than a few old research stations clingingto its surface. The facility they’re using is barely operational, but somehowmembers of the resistance have welded together enough generators to sustainlife support and basic functionality. 

Alessandra assures him that her platoons havedone more with less, and as soon as they’re clear to leave the ship, she’s offto take full inventory of the situation and offer what help she can.

Rita is quicklyachieving celebrity status, and not just for the relay channel she invented.Apparently when their captain called ahead, he mentioned that she’d broughtalong a few hundred of her favorite soaps and movies. After decades of livingunder the censorship laws of New Kinshasa, new stories (even really, really bad ones) are like ambrosia to the refugees. 

Juno stays with the cargo. Because somebody’sgot to make sure nobody messes around and breaks this stuff.

He meant what he said about helping Nureyevbring down New Kinshasa. The more he learns about this planet and its people,the more obvious it is that this is the right thing to do. But the thought ofsetting foot off the ship ties his stomach into knots. 

Nureyev is somewhere on this moon.

It’s a small facility; small enough that thetwo of them are bound to run into each other eventually. If not at one of thestrategy meetings with the leaders of the resistance, then in the crampedlittle kitchen during a meal, or passing each other in a hallway. 

He’s plotted out their meetings a thousandtimes since he learned Nureyev was still alive, and tried to prepare himselffor a thousand different outcomes, but every time he thinks about it he getssick to his stomach. Because ever since that first conversation, Nureyev’s beenall business. There’s familiarity between them, sure, but no more than you’dexpect from two guys who robbed a train together. He’s cordial. Almostclinical.

And that’s… fine. Juno doesn’t expect anythingfrom Nureyev. It’s enough just to know that he’s alive, and to help keep himthat way. He means it, too.

He’s just not sure his resolve will surviveactually seeing Nureyev up close again. 

Footsteps echo down the loading dock. Junolooks up, already on the alert, but the fight goes out of him when he sees afamiliar tall, thin figure at the far end of the room. And a voice he’s onlyheard in the distorted crackle of the relay channel for so long speaks loud andimpossibly clear: “They told me I might find you here.”

And all at once theworld is brilliantly, painfully bright. After nursing a black hole in his chestfor so long, Juno feels like he’s staring into the goddamn sun.

Juno rises to his feetas Nureyev makes his way down the dock toward the ship. Juno can feel himselfpulled in by Nureyev’s gravity, but he forces himself to step aside to give aclearer view of the crates he was sitting on. “We got you those teleporters youasked for. They were still in the tomb, right where we left them.” Nureyevkeeps coming closer, and Juno isn’t sure whether to back away or let himselffall closer. “I hope you know how to use them, though, because Rita andAlessandra and I couldn’t figure it out, and Miasma only ever translated everythird word or so. I’m starting to think she didn’t realize that nobody elsecould read Ancient Martian.”

“Or didn’t care, Iexpect.” Nureyev is so close that Juno can smell his cologne, but hisexpression is carefully neutral. “I don’t think operating them will be aproblem. Thank you for bringing them all this way.”

Juno’s mouth is dry. “Noproblem.”

“It’s quite a journeyfrom Mars,” Nureyev continues, leaning in even further, and Juno’s face burnsfrom the proximity. “You didn’t have to bring them yourself.”

“I—I wanted to makesure all of them arrived.” It’s getting hard to string words together. “Younever know what might happen.”

“No, I suppose you don’t.”When he pulls back, there’s a note of challenge in his tone. “But why did youreally come here?”

“Because it’s theright thing to do,” Juno says quietly. “Because the people here need whateverhelp they can get, and I can help. And…” His head feels about as clear as anavigation system under a solar flare, because he blurts out what he intended tokeep to himself: “And I wanted to see you again.”

Nureyev fixes him witha look, so imperious that Juno suddenly remembers why people used to worshipthe sun. “And if I don’t want to see you?”

“Then I can help outsomewhere else,” Juno says, backing down. “The captain was saying how theystill need hands on the surface of Brahma—“

“On the surface?” Allat once, the imperious façade cracks. “Juno, do you have any idea just how manylaws there are on Brahma? You’d be shot down on your first day!”

“I’d be careful,” Junosays, trying not to sound sullen, because—

“I hardly think Strongwould appreciate you getting yourself killed on my account.”

That was not what hewas expecting to hear.

“Alessandra?” he asks.“What’s she got to do with it?”

And for some reason, thatmakes Nureyev look irate. “Speaking from experience, the people who love youmight want some consideration before you throw your life away.”

“The people who…” Andsuddenly a lot of things make a lot more sense. “You think Alessandra and I areseeing each other.”

“She did cross thegalaxy with you.”

“Yeah, and so did Rita.”Suddenly he feels the need to sit down. “Nureyev, you’re the one payingAlessandra to protect me, remember?”

“Do you really thinkshe would have taken that kind of contract for just anyone?”

“No. Of course not.” Justthinking about this is giving him a headache. Because suddenly all sorts oflittle details are racing back into the forefront of his mind with this brandnew nugget of context. “She made herself pretty clear. She doesn’t get involvedwith people who are already in love with somebody else.”

Nureyev goes very still.

Juno leans in until they’repressed against each other. “I meant what I said, Nureyev. Say the word and I’llleave. I’ll go to Brahma, or back to Mars, or wherever you want me to go. But Iwant to be here. With you.”

The kiss is tentativeand soft, but only for a few seconds—in part because that’s how long it takesJuno to give in to a lot of the emotions he’s been trying very hard not to feelsince he met the thief, but mostly because they’re interrupted by an abortedsqueal.

When they look up,Rita’s standing at the far end of the dock, bouncing on the balls of her feetand covering her mouth to muffle another giddy yelp.

“Oh, don’t mind me,”she says, flapping one hand at them enthusiastically. “I was just getting somemore movies. By all means. Continue.”