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agent-cupcake · 4 years ago

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Can I ask your opinion? So, I feel like everyone into 3H is in love with Dimitri, but I can't connect with him. I don't dislike him, but I feel like there isn't much to his personality without all his various mental health issues. It's hard to get a feel on what he's really like, so I end up just seeing him as a walking ball of trauma and not a three-dimensional character. Do you have any thoughts on Dimitri himself and how to separate him as a person from his psychological issues? Thanks!

Hmm, I guess my first thought is that everyone resonates with characters differently and so if you don’t particularly feel connected to him, that’s not wrong. Fictional parasocial relationships are very similar to real-life relationships, so it follows that nobody is going to like every character. I can’t say that a portion of my love for his character doesn’t come from his mental issues because that’s something I personally relate to and feel drawn to in others. That’s just who I am and how I build relationships. There is also something to be said for the unavoidable way mental illness informs a person’s behavior and character, it’s as much an aspect of them as being born with blond hair or losing an eye.

That said, I will do my best to explain why I think Dimitri is wonderful. Not in spite of his mental illness, but because I don’t think that’s all he is.

So, Dimitri is, as he says, a very clumsy person. This unfortunately extends to his social skills. He has a lot of very socially awkward tendencies and a general lack of self-awareness. This contrasts with his innate desire to please people, or at least avoid upsetting anyone. The thing is, Dimitri doesn’t always completely understand what upsets people or how exactly they might feel. His childhood isolation left him rather emotionally unaware and desperate for the acceptance and approval of others. That’s not to say he doesn’t try to understand other people’s feelings, but it’s not an intuitive process. He has a habit of saying kind of dumb or uncomfortable things out of nowhere, which is most likely his real feelings coming out in rather inept ways. He means well, but he’s just so dang clumsy.

The desperation to be included and validated I mentioned, I think, can be seen in the way he tries so hard to make the other Blue Lions see him as a peer and equal all the while keeping himself rather closed off from them. Dimitri approaches conversations as a means of focusing on the other person, trying to make an appeal to them rather than as an interaction where both parties could be seen as vulnerable. Of course, just like most other socially awkward introverts, he opens up when he feels closer to the person, but that takes a while. Gotta unlock the supports, you know? Although it’s not necessarily obvious, his incredibly stiff behavior (especially pre-timeskip) and the way he switches between overly formal and awkwardly friendly in his interactions with people as he tries to figure out how to socially and emotionally navigate relationships really gives me the impression of someone trying desperately to fit in without even the faintest clue of how to actually manage that. He also does his best to avoid social situations, which, mood. Basically, Dimitri’s a big dumb massive introvert trying to act like he’s not.

FURTHERMORE, he is a dork. An absolute goof of a person. Dimitri canonically thinks so-bad-its-good puns and jokes are hilarious. His own style of telling jokes is saying things that may or may not have contextual humor in a normal voice and then claiming after the fact that he intended it as such. Now, his supports with Alois are absolute factual proof of the so-bad-its-good humor, but might I also direct your attention to the scene before the battle against Miklan in Conand Tower (the event name is “Tower in a Storm (Blue Lions)”). Basically, Gilbert is explaining the history behind Conand Tower and Dimitri says, in an incredibly earnest voice, “You’re very well informed, Gilbert. Please, tell us more.” This is a joke. Supposed to be, at least. The delivery is somewhat emphasized, but not in a recognizably sarcastic way. Gilbert, who knew Dimitri very well when he was young, realizes it’s a joke after a second. But there are other things Dimitri says that I believe are his bad “jokes” and since nobody knows him well enough to tell, they don’t call him on it. There’s no proof, but his line in the Lord’s intro where he says, “And here I thought you were acting as a decoy for the sake of us all.” to Claude has to be an attempt at sarcasm. Dimitri is oblivious, but not stupid. In his Goddess Tower conversation with Byleth, when discussing the topic of wishes, he says, “Perhaps it would make more sense for me to wish that we’ll be together forever. What do you think?” In a completely normal voice. Following are two speech bubbles of “...” before he laughs and proclaims that it’s just a joke and that he’s getting better at telling them. Now, this is a two-parter because I see this as both his horribly awkward tendency to say things he feels without thinking too hard beforehand as well as his silly deadpan style of “jokes”. Granted, he does apologize. Dimitri’s got socially awkward zoomer humor. It’s endearing.

Here is a video of Dimitri hitting on Byleth pre-timeskip. I’m not sure how far it goes to endear someone to him, but the mostly awkward and occasionally smooth attempts of Dimitri’s flirtations are absolutely a highlight of his character.

Now, this isn’t quite as cute as all that, but I think character arc and change do a lot for making a character feel more three-dimensional. Dimitri is hypocritically selfish. Although those are both negative terms, I don’t necessarily mean them as such, at least not in their totality. Both are things to overcome, which he does. And that’s why I feel like they’re a valid point of discussion when trying to explain the allure of his character.

The hypocritical part comes from the way he easily allows and forgives the flaws of others while constantly castigating himself for the same reasons. He says things that show an absurd amount of a lack of self-awareness. For example, he tells Edelgard, “Hm. You will prove a lacking ruler yourself if you look for deceit behind every word and fail to trust those whom you rely on.” All the while straight-up lying to and emotionally avoiding his friends. Dimitri also tells Marianne, when she is punishing herself for putting other people at risk, “What matters is that they came back safely in the end. You shouldn’t blame yourself for that.” Really, his C and B with Marianne is an exercise in hypocrisy. The standards Dimitri has for himself are incredibly, unattainably high. He’s setting himself up for failure in that way and, to an extent, knows what he’s doing because he knows that those same standards are too much for his friends and allies to meet. He wishes to take on everything himself. But, what I find so beautiful about this, is that Dimitri eventually realizes that he can’t do that. He is not strong enough to take on the weight of the world on himself, he comes to understand that it’s something he must allow himself to share with the people who care about him. He comes to realize that, as difficult as it is to accept, he is a weak person. Despite all of his introversion and inability to emotionally open up, he figures out that having a support system and allowing yourself to rely on people who love you is a necessity. Personally, I think this message is incredibly important in real life. Watching Dimitri come to that conclusion and argue it’s importance really rounded out his arc and journey as a person. Now, the relatability of this conclusion will differ, but I don’t think it has to do with his mental illness as much as it is a fundamental aspect of growth.

The selfishness is basically outlined above. Dimitri is selfish about his pain and secrets, purposefully and selfishly driving people away because he wants to keep the burden to himself. His vice is guilt and he indulges in the pain of it like an addiction. Hatred, too, is a drug. He thinks he needs it to keep going, even though all it does is bring agony to himself and others around him. Learning to accept and let go of these feelings is, again, something I think is important and a character arc that I really love, especially when you see him suffer as much as he does. Now, the execution of this is lacking, I admit. But that’s an issue for another time I think.

I am not quite sure if I did much to change your opinion, but this is all I can think of for now. There is probably a lot more than I’ve left out because I think about Dimitri far too much to be healthy. So, I’ll leave you off with some honorable mention aspects of his character that I think are super fun:

Pre-timeskip Dimitri has his hair tucked behind his ear. He can lift a wagon by himself. In the DLC, when faced with an impossible-to-open gate, it was not muscle man Balthus who said he couldn’t open it, but twinkish teen Dimitri. He’s not really smooth with one-liners. Like, at all. Notably, when attacking Manuela post-timeskip, he says, “Perhaps I should have appeared before you holding a bouquet of flowers, rather than the weapon that will end your life.” Adding to this, at one point, Dimitri fucked up a pick-up line so badly the girl came after him. Areadbhar has a mitten on it in the Azure Moon final picture. He breaks everything. His Crest activation ability even supports this, using twice the durability of any given Combat Art. One of his post-timeskip counselor messages is, “I lived in the slums for a long time, and I saw how the people there suffered from poverty and the ravages of war. There must be something I can do to save them." His room in the academy is right next to Sylvain’s, meaning that for almost an entire year Dimitri was a single wall away from hearing whatever nonsense Sylvain was getting up to. Dimitri is the only Lord that takes the throne and doesn’t abandon his people in some form or another.

And, finally, he is pretty sexy. And that’s all that really matters, isn’t it?

#dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #fe dimitri #dimitri #fire emblem three houses #FE3H #Anonymous

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nemossubmarine · 3 years ago

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Warhammer 40k: Wrath & Glory #36

Ranan finds Coco eating at the mess hall, and asks if they could talk. Coco says sure. Ranan wants to apologise about the way he acted back on Treshan. He says he wasn’t usually much for praying, so him acting that way around Ada was definitely odd. Coco says it’s alright, and then explains a little bit about what’s going on, including learning about who killed Jim. Ranan is pleased about hearing that it’s an eldar that’s to blame, should be easy to get some ears and deal with it. Coco says she certainly tried, but they are currently in alliance with the eldar. Ranan warns about being too close with xenos, even as a Rogue Trader. Coco asks Ranan more about the Devil, but Ranan says he can’t say much, as y’know, he’s easily blackmailable. Suffice to say, he has known her for a long time. Coco brings up the potential that the Devil is an eldar, but Ranan shuts that down, saying that he's seen enough of Devil (communal baths apparently) to know she’s all human.

Larry goes to visit La’awali and Tirak in their room, wanting to apologise for them having to be stuck inside for so long. The pair is understanding, they prefer this over the glares of the humans. Larry asks about their sort of time-frame of getting home, and how long do their races live anyway? Apparently La’awali is around 28 with an expected life between 30 and 40 and Tirak is 48 with an expected life of couple of hundred of years, so definitely there’s some urgency with La’awali. But if they get close to the Tau, they will be able to contact them so they won’t be immediately shot down. Larry gets the pair something to eat, and leaves them be. He says Alice might visit occasionally, but other than that, not to let anyone else in.

Coco takes up a habit to pop by the storage rooms where the Wolves, Vivek and the psyker are, making sure everything is okay and exchanging a few words. Uffe remains not talkative, but not hostile, unlike the Wolves who keep their helmets on in the other storage room, who don’t talk to Coco and don’t seem to appreciate her presence. One day, Coco asks if Uffe might want to take a walk with her. Uffe notes there isn’t much room for walking, but sure. So they do just that, walk down the hall of the ship. Uffe asks Coco what she wishes to talk about, and Coco brings up the fact that she knows there are Wolves on Dysmonia, the planet where her brother died. She wishes if Uffe could let her know what they’re doing there. Uffe tells her that Lord Commander Dante had asked the Wolves to come to the Segmentum Obscurus to assist in other matters. According to the Blood Angels’ intel, they believe some eldar are appearing from the area, and the Wolves are hunting for the source. Uffe doesn’t know much more about it, he has his own mission. Coco warns that the planet has killed Marines before. Uffe has Vivek copy some of the pictures from the crime scene to be sent forward. Uffe thanks Coco for them.

One day, few months into the traveling in the Warp, Ferrus calls Larry and asks if he might pop by his nest to have a little chat. Larry does so. Ferrus wants to talk about the fact that he is dying, and what with being held in a cell by the Countess for couple of weeks, some of his money being left behind and now this, it would take a miracle for him to find someone to fix him. Larry asks how much longer does he think he has, and he says maybe like couple of months. He doesn’t want this to be mentioned to others as he doesn’t want to upset them. Anyway, he wants to give Larry some advice on getting a replacement Navigator. Ferrus has some maps that are quite valuable Larry could use to get some Navigator to want to join, so he’s bequeathing them to him. He recommends getting someone young and desperate, saying he himself started navigating when he was 12. Definitely also recommends getting that license. Larry asks about the funeral and Ferrus jokes his corpse should be dropped off at his father’s doorstep, maybe that’d make him happy. No, just tossing him into space is fine.

Larry brings up Chazaqiel (explaining the situation there to Ferrus) and says they’ve been thinking about using Ferrus to kill him. Ferrus considers this and says it seems agreeable to him, even if there’s like 50% chance he’ll die. He figures if he could do something good before he dies then maybe he’ll have a place in the Emperor’s bosom. Larry says he doesn’t know about it, he certainly is going to Hell, as he has smooched some xenos. Oh, says Ferrus, then it doesn’t matter. Apparently Ferrus has smooched a kroot (which is how he picked up the language). Well, Larry says, they’ll meet in Hell then. Larry asks what kind of stuff Ferrus actually enjoys, and he shrugs and says he does enjoy navigating and also looking at handsome men, both which Larry has been able to provide already.

Coco gets to finally meet up with her sibling, Jim’s twin Omar. They have a meet-up at the same lake on Treshan where they met up with the eldar originally. Coco takes her friends with, and Omar gets there with a bunch of eldar, they’re also wearing some eldar garb (Larry whispers to Alice that it seems this xenos-friendliness seems to run in the family), which gives Coco pause. This was a long conversation, so here’s the main points. Omar left the family, because Jim sensed that something was wrong and Omar went to investigate (Coco was sad she wasn’t informed, but Omar said they really had no idea what was up, so it felt odd to make it into a thing). Well, they eventually joined up with these eldar and only afterwards learned that the eldar had killed Jim. They’re obviously heartbroken about that, but still seem quite content hanging out with the eldar. They’ve no plans on getting back to the family, even if Coco had assumed they would become the next heir to the Rogue Trader name. Omar’s super against that, saying they’ve no wish to be compared (unfavorably no doubt) to Jim for the rest of their life. They’re not quite sure what they’ll do, but they’re apparently fine with hanging out with the eldar right now. Seems Coco has to pick up the mantle. Coco says she can’t, what with the whole being blamed for Jim’s death. Omar hasn’t known about that, and is saddened by this. They say if they’d know, they would have reached out sooner. So it’s probably going to Mari-anne, the youngest sibling. Coco says she might have the temperament, being more of the player of the game type. Omar says they figure Marianne is probably rather lonely, having been left out from the three older siblings’ things.

Anyway, there’s still one person infected on board, and Omar knows it to be Sai, a bastard child of one of Coco’s uncles. Omar has apparently been planning on sending assassins, as they doubt they can explain why Sai should die. Coco thinks she may be able to explain it to the current Rogue Trader, but that leaves the problem of proving that Coco didn’t assist in killing Jim. Coco asks if Omar has any ideas, and Omar says they don’t, but they’re sure that the eldar will help, they owe the family that much. Larry suggests Vathac give the Rogue Trader a call, but Vathac doubts that the Rogue Trader has any reason to trust him. Besides, the eldar are yes, willing to help, but really don’t want the RT to go on a vengeance mission, which is a worry as Coco knows where they live and has shown a tendency to shooting them. They all agree to discuss this further once the Countess hopefully has been dealt with.

One day during their travels, Uffe comes by the bridge and asks to talk with Larry, so Larry leaves Coco in charge so the two of them can go talk. It’s time to talk about Linhildr. Uffe asks what Larry has told to his companions about his sister. Larry has told them that his sister is living in Fenris, but certainly nothing more. Uffe says it must be kept that way. The fact that there has been no women space marines before means that some feel that there never will be and that their existence will be considered heresy. The Wolves want to give the female Wolves a chance to prove themselves as Astartes, before they have to prove themselves again. So only Larry and his mother should know. Larry agrees to this.

Uffe asks if Larry would like to talk with his sister, but that’s probably a bit too much. Larry asks to see and hear her talk, so they arrange it so that Larry will watch through the security cameras as Uffe takes Linhildr into the gunner’s room. Later Vivek will erase the tapes. Larry asks if he could get something to show for his mother, and Uffe agrees for Vivek to give him a print-out. (Larry also asks Uffe about whether Hell exists, and Uffe thinks that people who aren’t allowed into uplands simply disappear, but then again, he’s no theologian).

So, Uffe goes to set things up and after a while, he voxes for Larry to go into place, so Larry leaves Coco behind again (and kinda makes it look like he’s going to have some self-loving). Eventually Uffe enters the gunner’s room with a wolf, and they sit down to talk in Fenrisian. Uffe appears to be teaching Linhildr about the ship’s gun. At some point, something Uffe says makes Linhildr take off her helmet, revealing a young woman. Larry asks through the vox if Uffe could ask Linhildr what she does this all for. Uffe first switches languages before asking Linhildr that. Linhildr mentions having saved a village of people from demons, and she liked that. Larry thanks Uffe, and cuts the channel. Uffe and Linhildr talk a while more, before Linhildr puts her helmet back on and the two leave. Larry, who has cried during all this, takes a moment to gather himself and look over the tape again.

Vivek gets to the room to erase the tapes and get a printout picture of Linhildr. He asks if Larry wants a voice clip as well, to let his mom hear her talk. Larry says that would be nice, so Vivek gets him a clip, saying he should keep it secret, as Vivek wasn’t really sanctioned by the Wolves to give this out. Larry thanks him and heads back to the bridge.

Unbeknownst to the two of them Coco overhears Vivek entering the room where Larry is and comes to the conclusion that the two of them are having an affair. Coco brings up that she didn’t know he was into older men and the fact that she wishes Larry wouldn’t do that sort of thing that close to the cockpit when he knows she’s there. It takes a moment for Larry to catch up on what she’s saying, when he does, he simply laughs. He tries the next day to convince Coco that he and Vivek broke up, but unfortunately Coco doesn’t buy it, so Larry continues the ruse (to make her not wonder why Vivek came by in the first place). Both Vivek and Uffe notice a certain awkwardness when Coco visit, but do not say anything. Larry eventually lets Vivek know that he has been pretending to have a friend with benefits agreement with Vivek for the past two months. Vivek seems to find this quite funny

#nemo roleplays #long post #add tags later #wag rp s2 #wag rp writeup

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thegizka · 4 years ago

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Our Time

Writer’s Month 2020 Day 4: Long Distance Relationship

Byleth believes in the future that she and Claude are working towards, but serious news from over the border could mean they have less time to create that future than they thought.

Read it on Ao3.

Note: I do not own any aspect of Fire Emblem: Three Houses.

Byleth had only been to Almyra twice before, both times travelling only an hour over the border late at night. She couldn’t venture very far because she wasn’t welcome, and peace wasn’t yet secure enough for an extended trip out of Fodlan. It was much easier for a roaming prince to cross the border when he would be welcomed by many as a friend. He never stayed long enough to socialize, though. If word got back to Almyra, he would lose what hard-earned trust from his people that he had.

“The timing is terrible,” Lorenz said when she asked him to hold down the fort for a few days. “Claude never did cultivate that noble quality of considering others’ schedules.”

“It’s not like he asked to nearly die on the battlefield,” Hilda snapped. Byleth knew she was worried because she hadn’t complained about the extra work she’d have to do in her leader’s absence. She had also nursed her brother through his more serious battle wounds. She knew how bad it could be.

“Do you think the report is accurate?” Marianne asked. “Could he really be dying?”

“That’s what I’m going to find out,” Byleth said.

“May the Goddess protect him,” she prayed.

Lorenz, Hilda, and Marianne were the only ones she told before leaving. The fewer people who knew about her absence, the less likely it was that one of the disgruntled lords would try to seize power. She also doubted her opposition would look kindly on her rushing to the aid of an enemy prince. Neither Fodlan nor Almyra was favorably disposed to their union.

Byleth didn’t usually mind waiting, and experience had taught her that peace and unity took time and effort. She had time, and Claude had a plan. Eventually they would have the future that they both wanted. She only wished this phase of the plan wouldn’t keep them so far apart.

She had known there would be a battle. The Gonerils had informants just over the border, and Hilda was quick to share anything they heard about Claude. A band of dissenters had been marauding the coastline, sometimes dangerously close to Fodlan’s border. The prince had summoned his warriors to confront them. It sounded routine, well within his tactical capabilities. No one expected the scoundrels to have set a trap or Claude to be seriously wounded, possibly fatally. Suddenly they didn’t have as much time to chase their future as they’d thought.

Byleth covered the distance in a day and a half. She didn’t grant herself the luxury of admiring the scenery like Ignatz would have. Sometimes in the quiet moments they shared, away from the politics that kept them apart, she’d ask Claude to describe a place they would someday visit together. She loved watching him as he used words to conjure images of places held in his memory. She could see his love for his country in his eyes, and he was extremely secretive and protective of the things he loved. That he trusted her with his memories meant a lot to her. She was looking forward to visiting those places and making more memories with him.

Her destination was not one of those places. From the exterior, it looked like a farmhouse with an accompanying barn. The buildings were tucked into the shadow of a mountain. Byleth knew the facade disguised an intricate network of tunnels and rooms that could be extensively defended should the need arise. No one but Almyran royalty and their closest guards knew about it..

“If anything happens and Fodlan is no longer safe for you, go there,” he’d said. “I’ll meet you there and we can come up with a plan to keep you safe.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Byleth reassured him.

“But if it does,” Claude insisted, “promise me you’ll go there.”

She wasn’t sure what had spooked him that day. Perhaps the unrest in Almyra was growing, or he had heard the rumors that a band of Those Who Slither In The Dark had escaped and were plotting against her. He usually didn’t let such things get to him, but everyone has his limits.

“I will,” she promised, and relief washed over his face.

“Thank you.” He kissed her hand affectionately.

“And if you’re in serious danger, I’ll be able to find you there, right?” she asked.

“If I’m in serious danger, you shouldn’t come looking for me.”

“But I will.” She took his face gently in her hands. “I would scour every inch of this earth for you if I could be by your side for a single moment. I will always come back to you.”

His eyes said a thousand true things, many of which she felt more than understood. It was strange to feel so much when for most of her life she had felt very little. Claude made her feel the most, and the experience was as wildly beautiful as he was. She wished she could feel this way with him forever.

“If it’s serious, I will go to the farm,” he conceded. “Just don’t come to me unless it’s an emergency. Wait for me to send word. I don’t want you falling into a trap.”

“I’ll be careful.”

He kissed her to seal the promise, then pulled her into a hug. They held each other for a while, drinking in each other’s presence. Byleth never realized how starved she was of him until they were together like this, at peace and in union.

“I wish I could bring you back with me,” he murmured, lips brushing her neck.

“I wish I could make you stay,” she sighed.

That had been two months ago. Now she crouched in the brush a safe distance from the little farm. She hadn’t waited for him to send word because she wasn’t sure he would. If he thought it would be safer for her to stay away, he wouldn’t ask her to come, even though she knew he ached for her just as strongly as she did for him. He had lived his life too carefully to start letting his emotions override his reason now.

The guards at the farm were good. Disguised as farmers, they made frequent trips between the buildings under the guise of agricultural chores. Byleth had spent enough time around warriors, though, to notice the telltale signs in their movement. She knew they were keeping careful watch while they appeared to work. That they were so active confirmed her suspicion that Claude had been brought here after the battle. All she had to do was get inside and find him.

She waited until dusk. It was terrible knowing he was so close and not being able to rush to his side. Their relationship remained a secret to all but a handful of their most trusted friends, and it had to remain that way. Claude knew firsthand how a mixed marriage could polarize people, and even though their love was enough to endure the backlash, their future union had to unite their lands as well.

Byleth chose the barn as her point of entry, slipping inside as the sunset stretched long shadows over the land. The guards seemed less attentive to this building, and it was evident why as soon as she entered. The smell of wyvern cut through the dusty scent of hay and timber. She felt nearly a dozen pairs of reptilian eyes bore into her as her vision adjusted to the low light. Wyvern were fiercely loyal and sometimes dangerously territorial. Walking into one’s den was a sure way to get into trouble.

Despite this, she moved forward with minimal trepidation. She had fought beside most of these creatures when Claude had brought his Wyvern Corps to Fodlan to stop Edelgard. They recognized her as an ally, and several rumbled a low greeting as she passed, patting snouts and scratching behind their frills to reassure them. Byleth noticed fresh scars and wounds plastered with pungent salves, signs of the battles they’d fought and their most recent skirmish. It must have been a tough fight because no beast remained unscathed. That made her worry. There could be more truth to the rumors than she had believed.

With growing concern, she made her way to the back of the barn. The Wyvern Corps’ presence was irrefutable proof that Claude was here. The warriors were as fiercely loyals as the beasts they rode and would stay by their prince’s side no matter what. But she had noticed there was a wyvern missing, and it made her worry a great deal.

She almost missed the large stall at the back of the barn because she was so intent on finding a way further into the compound. The rustle of hay and a chirp brought her to a stop. Appearing like a ghost in the thin light, Claude’s wyvern lay on a bed of hay, eyes looking at her intently. He chirped again, and she went to him.

“That’s his name for you,” Claude had said when she’d first heard those syllables back at Garreg Mach. They had just finished a strategy meeting for their planned assault on Enbarr, and as was happening frequently these days, she had sought him out to hear his unfiltered opinions and take comfort in his presence.

“My name?” she asked, gently scratching the wyvern behind his frill.

“He only makes that sound for you.” Claude grinned. “He must like you a lot. It’s much cuter than his name for me.”

“And what does your name sound like?”

He made a series of clicks and growls that sounded ridiculous coming from a human throat. She laughed, and Claude grinned brightly.

“It’s rare to hear you laugh, my friend,” he observed. “It’s a nice sound.”

A warm emotion stirred within her when she met his eyes, something new and exciting that she wouldn’t mind feeling again. She turned her gaze away, choosing to focus on the wyvern instead so she could sort through this new sensation. He simply chuckled behind her and let the comfortable silence draw about them.

“Sh,” she cooed as the beast chirped the now-familiar sequence again. She could see why he was separated from the rest of the wyverns. His chest was a criss-cross of scratches, one wing was bound in a splint, and a large gash traced nearly the entire length of his side. It had been treated and bandaged, but the cloth was damp from leaking fluids.

“You’re looking a little rough,” she murmured, rubbing his chin reassuringly. He bumped her with his nose. “I bet the enemy looks even worse, huh?” She scratched the patch of his neck that she knew he liked and was rewarded with a rumbling purr.

Byleth was torn. She wanted to continue on and find Claude, but his wyvern also needed care. Could she wait a bit longer?

“I’ll be right back,” she promised, patting his cheek before stepping out of the stall. With the state of his wounds, the healers ought to keep their medical supplies nearby for emergency treatment. She ducked into a nearby storage room. It was mostly empty save for a few cratesr. She popped one open to find bottles and jars of ointment, pungent-smelling like the salves slathered on the other wyverns’ wounds. The labels were in the flowing, angular script of Almyran. She could read just enough to understand the general application of each. Byleth grabbed a few that promised to disinfect and encourage fast healing. She dug into another crate to find large bandages.

The wyvern chirped her name again when she returned. She rubbed his neck reassuringly before going to his side.

“Easy boy,” she soothed as she peeled back the old dressing. He rumbled uncomfortably as the deep gash met the cool air of the barn. It was oozing pus, but the bleeding had stopped. She gently cleaned it, murmuring reassuringly as she did. She took one of the disinfectants and carefully spread it around the gash.

Stepping back, she took a deep breath. Reaching within her to the part of her that had been touched by the Goddess, she summoned the energy and poured it forth. The magic wove itself into nosferatu and pulled the exposed tissue together. The wound was large, and she was tired from the journey. She also selfishly wanted to conserve some magic in case Claude needed it. The Almyran people didn’t have many magical healers and were suspicious of Fodlan’s magical traditions, so most wounds were left to heal naturally. She accelerated the healing process until the gash was past the potential of danger before releasing the magic and letting the Goddess’s powers fall dormant within her. She then reached into her own pack and pulled out a jar of ointment. The wyvern turned and clicked at her as she started applying it to what was left of the wound.

“Do you like that?” she asked. “Marianne has more experience with warmblooded animals, but she thought this might help if you were hurt. She’s always thinking of our non-human allies.”

Byleth finished dressing the wound with clean bandages before tending to the wing. She knit the bone back together but kept the splint in place to discourage activity until the surrounding muscle finished healing.

“There,” she sighed, rubbing the wyvern’s snout. “That’s about all I can do for you right now. I hope it helps.”

He exhaled against her stomach, making her chuckle while she scratched behind his frill.

“Well this is a surprise.”

If Byleth had had a heart, it would have jumped in momentary panic. She turned around. Claude leaned in the entrance, eyes wide with surprise. Bandages covered his torso, and he leaned on one leg as though avoiding putting weight on the other. But he was there, and he was alive.

She walked the short distance to him slowly. His eyes were tired but vibrant as they studied her face. His gaze softened when she reached him and gently wrapped him in a hug.

“It really is you,” he murmured. “I thought I was dreaming for a moment.”

“I’m here,” she promised in a whisper.

“Why?” He pulled back so he could look at her. He gently brushed some hair from her face. “Don’t get me wrong, I am unbelievably happy to see you, but why are you here?”

“I heard about the battle. I was worried.”

He blinked in surprise.

“I sent word that I was fine. Did it not reach you?”

“I left right away. I wasn’t sure there was time to wait.”

“I know you worry, but you need to be careful, my love.”

“Sh,” she hushed, cradling his face gently. “I am here now. Let’s leave it at that.”

“Okay.” He gently rested his forehead against hers. “Okay.”

They stood in silence together practicing the art of being. Once again, she felt how heavily his absence had weighed on her. She never felt so whole as when she was with him.

The wyvern behind them clicked and growled Claude’s name. He chuckled.

“Someone’s feeling a little left out.”

Byleth let him pull away and limp over to the creature. He spoke to it in Almyran, murmuring in beautiful, lilting speech that she only partially understood. She loved the cadence of his voice and watching him interact with his wyvern. He was somehow less guarded, perhaps because he had grown up with this beast. It was one of his closest friends, and it was nearly impossible for him to hide his affection.

“You’re bleeding,” she said, noticing the bandage along his side turning crimson.

“I’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

“Should you even be out of bed?”

“Probably not.”

“Claude!”

“I’m fine,” he assured her, though he let her help him into a sitting position with his back resting against his wyvern’s side. “I just thought this guy could use some company.”

The wyvern nosed his chest in concern. Claude patted his nose to calm him.

“What happened?” Byleth asked as she carefully peeled back the soiled bandages.

“The luck of battle,” he grunted. “It was not with me. Some archers on the other side got in a few lucky shots instead.”

She counted three puncture wounds and half a dozen bruises. It was amazing that he’d been able to stand, let alone walk to the barn. He must be under immense pain.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he promised, though it was hard to believe him.

Byleth was already manifesting the Goddess within her and weaving magic into nosferatu. She poured her intention into her work, tenderly treating his wounds. Muscle knit together and bruises faded. She knew the energy was taking a physical toll, but she was determined to ease his pain as much as she could. That was largely why she was here, after all.

“Don’t overdo it,” Claude cautioned, gently grabbing her wrist. “I can afford to heal on my own a bit.”

She wanted to continue until the wounds had disappeared, but the reassurance in his eyes and her fatigue convinced her to let it be. The magic faded, leaving the wounds red and tender but no longer bleeding. She took a moment to catch her breath before reaching for some ointment and bandages.

He took her hands once she had dressed his wounds and kissed them tenderly.

“Thank you,” he murmured against her palms. The hair of his beard tickled her fingertips.

“I haven’t even looked at your leg yet,” she chuckled, trying to pull her hands back.

“Leave it,” he said. “It’s just a sprain, and you’re already exhausted. You must have traveled nonstop to get here. Rest while we still have some time together.”

He was right. She’d have to leave in an hour to avoid detection and return to Fodlan. Their stolen moments were never long enough. Byleth settled into the hay and nestled against Claude’s uninjured side. He took her hand and held it against his chest, kissing the crown of her head before resting his cheek against it. She listened to the steady, reassuring beating of his heart. She could have fallen asleep there wrapped warmly in his love, but she didn’t want to waste their precious seconds together.

“Claude?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Tell me something.”

“What?”

“Anything. I just want to hear your voice.”

He chuckled, and she felt it vibrate in his chest.

“Alright then. In two days, it will be the twentieth day of the Great Tree Moon.”

“Yes,” she grinned, thinking he was being silly and listing mundane facts.

“On that day nine years ago, Dimitri, Edelgard, and I got separated from our classmates during some evening training exercises and were set upon by bandits.”

“I thought you snuck away from the others.”

“There was never enough evidence to prove that,” he chuckled. “Regardless of how we got there, we were almost surely going to be captured or killed until a band of mercenaries led by the famed Captain Jeralt and the Ashen Demon routed the thugs and saved the future of Fodlan.”

“That was nine years ago?” she asked. It felt more like three or four. She’d lost five years to a coma. Sometimes she wondered what might have been different if she had been awake to guide her students through the turmoil.

“It was. Nine long years of fighting and bloodshed to create the future we believe in, and we still have a ways to go. But on the twentieth day of the Great Tree Moon next year, I’m going to marry you.”

Byleth sat up quickly to see whether he was joking. His eyes were earnest and soft, and they filled her with the conviction that he was making her a promise.

“Whether or not we’ve brought peace to Almyra and Fodlan, although I expect we will by then, we should get married. I don’t care if it’s a tiny ceremony at Raphael’s inn with only the Golden Deer around to witness it. The only future I want is one where we’re together. What do you say?”

She felt emotions stir within her that were too big to name. They spread through her body and swelled in her throat until she wasn’t sure she could speak. But what could she say? Claude had already spoken her desires for her.

“You’re crying.” His eyes went wide in surprise, and a touch of fear passed through them. Byleth reached up to her cheeks and felt their dampness. She laughed in surprise.

“I’ve never been this happy before.”

Claude chuckled with relief as he wiped the tears away.

“You had me worried for a moment.” He held her face, thumbs rubbing her cheeks gently as he grinned. “I take it this scheme sounds good to you?”

“Yes,” she beamed. “I think it’s a winning strategy.”

His grin grew wider as he kissed her. She kissed him back, sealing their new promise. Somehow the future they wanted seemed much closer than it had this morning. One year. They just had to get through one more year. Then they’d have all the time in the world together.

#writersmonth2020 #day 4 #long distance relationship #my words #claudeleth #claude von riegen #byleth eisner #fem!byleth #fire emblem #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #golden deer #lorenz hellman gloucester #hilda valentine goneril #marianne von edmund #hurt/comfort

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roc-thoughtblog · 4 years ago

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Sense and Sensibility Readthrough Part 10

Chapter 13, Pages 54-61

Today I actually paid attention to the meaning of the lyrics to Rolling Girl, and couldn't stop myself from crying. Then, like a sucker, I looked for English covers, and cried again. Oops. Song hits too close to home. Anyways.

Previously, Margaret was the best character. Marianne x Willougby now confirmed beyond reasonable doubt to Elinor, and Mrs. Jennings and everybody else now knows that Elinor has a secret beau. Poor Elinor, and probably poor Edward in advance, too.

Relatedly, two old friends dragged me out last night to witness the rare event of yours truly drinking, which mostly involves me pulling entertaining faces at weak cocktails after a single sip, because alcohol tastes as powerful and godforsaken as nuclear fallout to me, and lingers just about as long on the poor blasted wasteland of my helpless tongue. I don't have a secret beau, but they still did insist on dragging out of me every plausibly hypothetical detail, and then proceeded to try to set me up with the waitress of the night when there predictably turned out to be none. I dearly love my friends, but, Elinor, my point is that I want you to know that I feel for you.

I feel like sometimes I turn these preambles into diary entries. I'm entirely okay with this, though I should probably tag them somehow.

Also, oh my lord, this chapter sure happened, wow.

Readthrough below.

Chapter 13 Apparently things start really evolving now. Exciting. (EDIT: THEY SURE DID)

THEIR INTENDED excursion to Whitwell turned out very differently from what Elinor had expected. She was prepared to be wet through, fatigued and frightened;

Aha, Austenism coming up, first thing.

but the event was still more unfortunate,

Yess called it. So how was it worse? Were there floods? Surprise Edward & Mrs. Jennings meeting?

for they did not go at all.

... my expectations got double-subverted. Well, something is about to happen. I see now why all the details of the coming trip were attached to the last chapter instead of opening this one. They're out to picnic, and;

eager to be happy, and determined to submit to the greatest inconveniences and hardships rather than be otherwise.

I love this line. Anyway, while they're eating, Colonel Brandon receives a concerning letter though; his faces changes colour and he has to leave temporarily, like a really important phone call.

I guess this will be the impetus for change?

Haha, Lady M tries to stop her mother from prying into Brandon's personal business but Mrs Jennings is just not that type of person. Brandon's not really forthcoming and says it's just business in town, but he does have to leave immediately to attend to it.

It sounds really urgent. Him not being present means they can't go to the venue Sir Middleton wanted to use, which was an estate Brandon was related to. He's effectively cancelled the whole party for a business that where apparently, "I cannot afford to lose one hour." He's still not forthcoming on what though.

Willoughby and Marianne make snide comments betting that Brandon has invented the excuse himself to cancel the party because he's a spoilsport. Guys, please. :(

Sir M is very accomodating of Brandon regardless. He's a good-hearted fellow, really, if a little dim occasionally. Aww, Brandon says goodbye to Elinor. That's sweet, I really enjoy their friendship. Help I teared up slightly, I think I'm still emotional from the song. Marianne gets a silent nod. Yeah, I understand.

Anyway, now that he's gone, Mrs. Jennings starts eagerly speculating the reason for his urgency. A "Miss Williams" supposedly.

WHAT

SHE'S HIS DAUGHTER? BRANDON HAS A DAUGHTER? His NATURAL DAUGHTER? She's good enough at least to only reveal the daughter part to Elinor, but, damn. Wow, uh. Wow. People sure gonna bug him about Miss Williams now.

Wait but he's 35 right, so how old is Miss Williams?? When do people have kids again?? Oh my gosh, is Margaret going get a FRIEND HER OWN AGE?? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!

"Oh yes; and as like him as she can stare. I dare say the Colonel will leave her all his fortune."

But WHAT HAPPENED? Why aren't they together right now? Why is he attending random parties alone? aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

Though I do wanna say that does make the Mrs. Jennings' hypothetical Marianne/Brandon pair a bit stranger. Beyond just a man who could be her father, a daughter who could be her sister? That's something alright.

after some consultation, it was agreed, that although happiness could only be enjoyed at Whitwell,

HAHA, I really enjoy these lines. It's the kind of thing where it's not what anyone is intending on meaning, but it's accurate to what's happening in a roundabout way. Anyone everyone goes on a drive instead and presumably Willoughby and Marianne have a very romantic time on theirs.

Another dance in the evening? Is that just what rich people do all day? ... Do rich people still do that all day? Wow, there are like 20 Careys, a family who has now been mentioned twice that I recall and I don't know if they'll be important or just filling up the numbers.

Also I admire and yet detest the seating arrangements haha.

Mrs Jennings -> Elinor -> Willoughby -> Marianne. Willoughby, why you separate the sisters? You don't seem to talk much to Elinor anyway. ... are you trying to hog Marianne? Is that the play? I'm not judging here, I'm just curious. Would be sneaky play.

Despite the general pattern of narrative voice, it is abundantly clear that Elinor is the primary focus here as all the information is exactly and only what passes through her ears; makes the seating arrangement of Mrs Jennings on the other side very clever too, beyond just the charming blocking of having her lean over two people to harass Marianne with her mysterious Romance Sleuthing Acumen. Apparently she has figured out exactly where Marianne and Willoughby have gone on their "drive", and thanks to seating Elinor will now hear too.

HAHA SHE CALLS WILLOUGHBY MR. IMPUDENCE. This and Willoughby calling Elinor saucy, the dialogue really doesn't pull punches sometimes. Apparently Willoughby took her on a tour of his to-be-inherited estate. Elinor pieces together that Mrs. Jennings got the beans spilled from the servants. I told you two! Don't discount the servants! Mrs Jennings sure doesn't! Treat your groom a greater friend, Willoughby, and mayhap the seal of loyalty might have affixed his lips. :'D

Ah, but Elinor is still worried about propriety. Elinor, I love you dearly, but this is most harmless romanticism really. It's not like the horse thing. Haha, aww, Elinor's tactitly acknowledged Marianne’s relationship and intentions with Willoughby, and Marianne does that thing where she sort of lost the argument but is too pleased to really turn it around.

Haha, Marianne returns later to describe the actual house she saw with great enthusiasm. She's just that excited, how very Marianne to gush so; she might also be gloating juuuuust a little over having seen the house and expecting to inherit it. :'D Very amusing; poor Elinor to have to listen to it though, deliberate or not. Her own beau is so far away, and his own inheritance dicier. Must sting a bit.

AaaaaAAAAAAAA this has been my hour but I NEED TO KNOW ABOUT MISS WILLIAMS. I would have continued onto the next chapter, hour be damned because it's saturday, but skimming through Brandon doesn't come back. I don't want to skim too far ahead but as far as I can tell he doesn't come back for at least 10 chapters noooooooooooo you can't just spring that on me and leave me hanging aaaaaaaaaaaa. :'(

Ahh well, I suppose if I were any of the Dashwoods I wouldn't expect to see him until "after winter" anyway, whenever that will be. That'll be it for today then, I suppose. :'D

I think with the addition of Miss Williams, Colonel Brandon and his DAUGHTER are now the most intriguing characters to me. Not being able to find out their deal for weeks is gonna drive me nuts. I hope he's not an absent father though...

Miss Williams is also an instant favourite for just existing, because as you can see with Margaret, I have a soft spot for children caught in an adult world.

#1300 words #Jane Austen #Sense and Sensibility #readthrough #novels #Margaret = Brandon > Elinor = Mama Dashwood > Marianne > everyone else #Diary Preamble #also if you caught the pesterlog reference #that was deliberate and its one of my favourite pesterlogs

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rox-the-proxy · 5 years ago

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Of Last Men Standing and Runaway Kings

A Dimiclaude fix I wrote a while back and posted on Ao3, so you can also go read this there if you so desire. I'm basically in hell with all the ships I have for FE3H and have no shame. So here is this for you all to (hopefully) read and enjoy.

When Claude had offered him a home in the Alliance territory, after having seen him slip away silently from the armies after the defeat of his stepsister and her empire, Dimitri believed it to be a joke. After all, Claude was known for such things. But he seemed sincere about it, determined to help him even though Dimitri didn't ask for it, didn't think he deserved it. And in his own mind, he didn't. After he had savagely taken the lives of any and all who stood in his way of getting to Edelgard, why would he deserve help? He didn't think there was a logical explanation or reason for it. Never had, and he probably never would. But Claude saw differently, out of the three of them, it seemed he would be the last man standing. And honestly, Dimitri was fine with that. Happy with it even, after all, Edelgard had killed so many innocent people, Dimitri himself had done so as well and went mad with revenge and bloodlust.

But Claude? No, not him. He remained calm, collected and even tried to stop Edelgard by helping the Kingdom as best as he could. In the end however....he too watched the brutality of Dimitri's actions when he took Edelgard's life. Even after it all, Dimitri believed that he would feel peace, that he would finally be free of the voices of the dead that haunted him as much as he was awake as they did in his sleep. But that didn't seem to be the case. Dimitri felt empty, lost, suddenly all that anger and lust for blood was gone with her death, but....he still didnt feel better. He couldn't fathom why he didnt feel better, he truly couldn't understand why he felt so much worse. Maybe because it had been his Stepsister, someone he had grown close to. Maybe that is why it felt so much worse. He had only come back to his senses after everything was said and done, after the damage had been done and there was no turning back time now.

The way back to the Leicester Alliance took longer then what Dimitri had been expecting. Though it made sense seeing as they had to go deep into the Empire territory to reach the Capital of Enbarr. He had never ridden a Wyvern before so when Claude had pulled him up on his own then sat behind him, he was a bit nervous, especially when the said White colored Wyvern shot up into the sky. For those few moments, he had shut his remaining eye tightly and held his breath even. After a little while he was able to relax and enjoy the silent ride all the way back. Or, at least somewhat silent. Claude tried to maintain conversation with him as best he could as to keep the one eyed Male out of the dark depths of his mind. He was good at that, keeping people distracted from the stress and worries of the world. As well as good at keeping people distracted from they needed to do, if their academy days were a thing to go by that is. As they flew well into near sunset, Claude had also taken it upon himself to teach the blonde a few things about riding a Wyvern, even going as far as to allow him to hold onto the reins.

It had been the most grounded and human Dimitri had felt in quite a long time if he was going to be honest. Five years of solitude and killing mercilessly often times took the humanity out of a person. Either way, Dimitri didn't feel like an empty husk, or a mindless animal. For the first two days in the Alliance, Dimitri never left Claude's side. Part of that was due to him not wanting to be anywhere else, but also in part that he was an outsider, he wasn't trusted enough to be left alone. On the third day however he was surprised when Claude took him to where the Wyvern are usually kept and there the green eyed man gifted him a beautiful single blue eyed Wyvern who's scals were as dark as a starless night sky. He had explained that this one got hurt young and hasn’t been able to ride out. However, He could cover his blindside like can cover his. And that he felt like it would help him in the long run to adapt to a new world to give him a task to focus on such as training a wyvern in order to get back on his feet.

Claude had gone further to explain that this particular Wyvern is temperamental, moody, isolated himself, protective of younger born wyverns to a point, and wary to strangers. To be honest, Dimitri could see himself a lot in this creature. He had also been informed that he wasn't from these lands. He flew home in the wrong directions after getting hurt and breeders found him. Marianne tried her best but even she had a hard time convincing it to be near a rider. Dimitri had been worried when that had been explained to him. However Claude gave him a reassuring smile, telling him that those people are not like him. Without a name of his own he refused to listen to anyone else. So flying on his own was out of the question. Dimitri had spent the rest of that day getting to know his new Wyvern, and that same night he had tried a multitude of names before the one eyed creature seemed to like and react to one particular name; Aslan.

After that, Claude took him back to the Von Riegan manor. From there he had asked the green eyed male for a favor, if he could take his old armor and cloak and keep it hidden from him. As a deserter of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, he didn't feel like he had a right to wear the royal blue that everyone associated with the Kingdom itself. Claude had been reluctant at first, it was like Dimitri was still trying to Vanish from the world. But the tired, lost, sorrowful look in his remaining eye is what convinced Claude to agree and do as the other man had asked him to do. For another few days, Dimitri spent his days getting to know Aslan as well as being shown around by Claude. Around the second week was when Claude announced that Dimitri was now an official citizen of the Alliance and his retainer as well. In that moment, Dimitri was in small state of shock. He hadn't been sure if he could believe or not. After all, how else was he supposed to take the news? Especially when he had learned later that Claude had over ruled the other lords and advisors just to make sure that he had a citizenship.

That night, the blonde found himself shirtless, hair dripping wet, sitting in a chair in front of a mirror in Claude's room as the man dried his hair. The day had been long, full of paperwork and he had begun to hallucinate, hearing the voices of his father, Glenn and all those who had died protecting him. All of them asking him why he had ran, why was he leaving his Kingdom on it's own, why was he running away like a coward. That had lead to a rather....uncomfortable breakdown for him, so much so he had disassociated for a few hours. When he finally seemed to have slowly come back out of it, he had found himself looking up at Claude who was sitting to his left near the edge of the bath, washing his hair out for him. It was...embarrassing to say the least that he had a tough time doing the basic things like washing himself, remembering to eat or even drink. After the bath, and getting half dressed he silently sat there, letting the now Leader of the Alliance dry and brush his hair.

Dimitri was startled out of his thoughts when he felt a pair of hands gently cupping his cheeks and a thumb brushing over his scarred eye, he was quick to reach up and grip the hands by the wrists, but also seemed to realize these hands were not going to cause him any harm. He had to take a few deep breaths before he slowly released his tight hold on Claude's wrists. He felt a pang of shame and guilt when he saw the discoloration on the beautifully tanned skin, he always had an issue with controlling that monster strength of his. Even now, after five and a half years he still couldn't quite get a hold on it, though at this point it was sure due to his lack of caring about it a year after he had been kept locked up in a certain in the Kingdom by Cordila. God he was so pleased to watch the life fade from her eyes. That thought alone however, sent a cold chill down his spine, one that sent a shudder through his body. Claude had clearly noticed, how could he not when he had his face cupped between his hands? He didn't say anything on the matter, he merely kept gently brushing his thumb over the scarring of his now ruined and dead eye.

"Its okay, it doesn't hurt. It wont bruise."

Dimitri felt comforted by those gentle words, even though he had a hard time believing it. He had crushed skulls with his hands, he had broken steel Lances, swords, scissors, sewing needles and many other things as well. So he found it hard to believe that the other man wouldn't have bruising around his wrists. Truly, it seemed like all he was good at was hurting those he loved, and letting them die due to his inability to do a damn thing.

"My apologies." Dimitri whispered, hardly recognizing his own voice. "It...came as a shock."

"I would imagine so, finally back with us?" Claude asked, he wouldn't move or stop what he was doing until he knew for a fact Dimitri was all there again. Or at least as close to being all there as he could be considering whatever hell he had witnessed over the past five and a half years. He felt the other give the smallest nod before he gave the one eyed man a reassuring smile. "Good, I'm almost done with your hair, and then we can go to bed, okay?"

"If that is what you wish, my Lord."

"Claude."

He wasn't used to being called lord or anything else of that kind. In fact, he didn't like it. Especially when it came from Dimitri of all people. Despite him having no noble or royal status here in the Alliance as of today, that didn't meant he actually wasn't royalty. The man was heir to the Kingdom Of Faerghus Throne, but he had decided to throw that part of him away and simply try to vanish from the world, when he had confronted Dimitri about leaving and asked if he wanted to be a forgotten king, the other hadn't denied it, but he didn't confirm it either. But it was clear that's what he wanted if his silence and longing look at the idea of simply being forgotten was anything to go by. Claude had felt an unbearable need to help Dimitri when he saw him like that. So he did, and without hesitation as well, when he heard the rumors of the Mad King of Faerghus, he could see why even Dimitri himself had stopped seeing the humanity in himself. He had even seen first hand how brutal he could get in the battle field, he had even experienced getting a wound from him. Something he wasn't quite ready to let Dimitri know about or even remind him about just yet. The man had enough guilt piled a mile high on his shoulders. He wordlessly stood up, and simply went back to the task at hand of brushing his hair. It was...shocking to see the scars that littered Dimitri's back and front. He had so many, all ranging from small, to large, from clean and nearly unnoticeable to unsightly and inflamed slightly. The one on his eye seemed to be the one that bothered him most, he supposed that Dimitri had expected Claude to flinch back at the sight of it, but no. He didn't do that, and he could see how that seemed to ease the blonde's Feral behavior.

"There, come on, let's get to bed. We have a long day tomorrow."

He held his hand out to the one eyed male once he was standing in front of him again. During his time here, Claude had made it habit to always hold his hand or have the blonde hold onto his arm as they walked around. Either way, Dimitri was always close to his side, he made sure of that. In a sense, he guessed he was doing this mainly to keep the other grounded as they went about doing daily tasks that needed to be done after such a large scale and sudden war. And well, he wanted the other man close to him, he wanted to save him and make up for those he couldn't save. This was his own way of atoning for the old friends he had to kill. He could only imagine what Dimitri felt like what he had to do in order to atone for his own actions which had been so much worse than what many could even imagine. He only hoped that maybe one day, despite what he had done, Dimitri could see the humanity in himself. For now though, Claude was happy to help him as much as he could. As he finally got the blonde to lay down, he sat next to him as he looked down at the runaway king. He looked so tired, clean at least, but he just looked exhausted. The bags under his good eye, the fact he looked much thinner then what Claude could remember. And well, the fresh wound on his left hip and on his shoulder.

"El...even in her last moments she refused to go down without inflicting another wound."

Ah, so that's where the one on his shoulder came from. He wondered about the one on his hip, it was a rather big slash and it had horrible, painful bruising around it. Almost as if it had gotten infected, thankfully though that wasn't the case. Claude sighed as he moved to lay down, but kept himself propped up with his elbow. Dimitri looked much more relaxed now that his head was resting on pillows, a mattress that supported him nicely under warm blankets that fought off the chill of the night breeze that flowed in through the window. His hair cascading over the soft pillow and over his eyes. Slowly the green eyed male reached down and gently brushed those gold colored locks out of his face. His hand lingered, entangled in those freshly washed, soft locks of hair. The action seemed to help Dimitri relax, especially as he watched the remaining good eye close slowly and stay that way even minutes later when he slowly pulled his hand away. He had never seen the other so relaxed, so vulnerable and he wasn't sure if he liked just how small he looked despite him being a rather tall man.

"Why are you doing this?"

The question came out of nowhere and it had startled the green eyed male considering he had thought the other man had fallen asleep. Clearly that was not the case, and he had a feeling that hadn't been the case in a long time, if the dark bags under his eye were anything to go by. The said green eyed male reached down slowly, gently and carefully caressing the man's cheek, his fingers stopping under the dark bags. That blue eye that used to shine with life was dull, haunted. Claude missed that look he used to have, he used to smile, used to shine so bright, but war changed people, Dimitri had witnessed horrors at such a young age and then again when Edelgard declared war on the church. That war had killed all of their former selves, but for Dimitri it was like he was a completely different human being all together. It was frightening, he would admit that much. It was such a stark change that it left everyone in shocked, especially considering everyone thought he had died in the Kingdom, executed by the people he once trusted.

"Because, your still my friend. And I, for once, want to be able to save one person with my own hands. I want to show you that you aren't a monster like you claim to be."

It seemed that had been a response that Dimitri was not expecting. He could tell he was shocked and rendered speechless. Claude would admit he was proud of the reaction he got out of him. The green eyed male smiled, as he draped his arm over the other and pulled him close once she finally decided to lay down fully. "Sleep, runaway king of Lions. Tomorrow is a long day." He said with a soft hum.

That night, for once Claude realized out of the three of them, despite Dimitri being alive, he truly was the last man standing. But at least out of the three of them, two would continue to live and he would make sure Dimitri would as well.

#Fire Emblem Three Houses #fe3h #fe16 #fe3h dimitri #fe3h claude #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #claude von reigen #Post-War era #AU #dimiclaude #fanfiction #fe3h fanfic

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ship-ambrosia · 5 years ago

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Dimimari Week Day 4 - Seasons (The Goddess’s Reply)

Summary: Marianne's first year living in Faerghus.

AO3: Lucky Charm Chapter 4

I'm particularly excited about this prompt, because I think it's kinda a different style than I usually write. It was also the first idea I came up with for the week.

By the way i know you probably shouldnt overexplain everything, but the title comes from the dimitri/marianne A support where marianne wonders "if this is the goddess telling me i should make something of myself?" dimitri says "that must be why the goddess allows me to live on" and dimitri ends the support with "i promise to the goddess of fodlan that i will never give you cause to despair" So i just kinda thought of this happiness being "the goddess's reply" to their questions and prayers

The war ended in the eighth month of the year. The Verdant Rain Moon.

Marianne moved into Fhirdiad Palace the following spring. The flowers of the city were beginning to bud, the cold northern air of Faerghus making one last attempt to deliver the snow. Marianne had only ever seen Fhirdiad in chaos, Cornelia’s Tripp’s and mechanical abominations standing in their way as they raced through the capital to confront her. It was like an entirely different city now. Fhirdiad was a famously clean and beautiful city, and she was happy to see it this way now. It was a wonderful distraction as she came to terms with her responsibilities as the future queen of the united Fodlan.

For some reason, she hadn’t thought of what falling in love with Dimitri would actually entail; or perhaps she had been avoiding it. Dimitri was a kind, just man, who had faced his own darkness, the horrible things that plagued his mind, and overcome them. He deserved to become king of course, and she would never convince him otherwise. But she, becoming queen... left her increasingly nervous.

Dimitri had a lot to take care of as well, now that he was to be king, a lot of things needed to be fixed after the war and though he had begun them almost immediately, he was gone from the palace for long periods of time. Her heart aches for him, wishing she could come along but he was worried about leaving the palace empty, and so she and Dedue spent much time together as they waited for the most important person in their lives to come home.

When he did come home though, those were the best days. She enjoyed nothing more than when he would lead her around the city, showing her the places that meant the most to him and meeting the people. Fhirdiad was beautiful, with its aqueducts just as decorative as they were functional in keeping the water supply clean, to the vast garden as they bloomed over the weeks. She never fell into a rhythm, every day felt brand new; every moment spent with Dimitri felt like she was falling in love all over again.

Summer came to Fhirdiad warmer than she had expected, and Marianne felt the teeniest twinge of homesickness. She and Dimitri traveled to Leicester so they could reunite with friends, and see the city of Derdriu once again. Upon returning, Marianne was surprised to find her awe with Fhirdiad had not faded, still as captivated by the northern city’s beauty and life as before. She was starting to see herself live here, the role of queen still frightening but something she found herself proud of.

Summer was when the people of Faerghus really came alive, and she spent much of her time traveling around the former country. She was scared to meet the nobles of the west in particular, to get them to accept her as the queen, though much of the nobles in the east were her friends - Felix and Sylvain, respectively, were rising to the heads of both their Houses, which happened to be two of the most powerful in the former borders of Faerghus. With their support, she felt she could lift her chin a little bit higher.

Mercedes and Annette insisted they be present at every step of the way that Marianne was fitted for her wedding gown, which began around this time. Every thought of being wed to Dimitri sent her blushing like a lovesick schoolgirl, and listening to the dressmakers and her friends made her feel like she was going to combust. She had never imagined herself marrying happily, always assumed it would be an arrangement to benefit her adoptive father. When she returned home to Dimitri after those visits she would hold him and cry; they were happy tears, as she thought about differently her life was now than she had imagined back then.

Their relationship itself too, changed with the change in season. Sweet and tempered in the spring, like how the world was poised to bloom. In the summer they naturally progressed into something a little more heated. This was such uncharted territory for both of them, exploring new avenues of their feelings for one another, but it never felt wrong.

As the leaves began to change color, the people of the country got to work harvesting the fields and Marianne had to prepare once more for celebration. It was a joyous time as people all across Fodlan celebrated their good harvests going into winter. A little over a full year had passed since the end of the war, and it seemed like the scars it had left had truly begun to heal. It was one of the best harvest years in all of recorded history, as though the goddess, wherever she may be, was celebrating with them.

But all the time of bliss they had witnessed in this new year had spoiled them, made them forget what obstacles they still had to overcome. The war was still fresh in everyone’s minds, the scars still there. In late autumn after the leaves had begun falling, a handful of Faerghus’s western nobles attempted a coup. Dimitri was joined by Felix and Sylvain to quell the uprising, though Dimitri was injured in the fighting. It felt as though all of Fhirdiad was holding its breath as he was returned home not on horseback but in a medical carriage, the death of their previous king still fresh in everyone’s mind. The presence of their queen-to-be as a specialist in healing magic did little to calm the anxieties of the city, but Marianne thought that fitting as she was equally as upset each day as she cared for him. She saw flashes of the madness he had gone through returning, knowing full well that the entire battle itself had reminded him of the day in Duscur that he lost so many people he had loved. The wound in his mind affected him more than the wound in his chest, and so Marianne stayed by his side, that he might remember all that they had both fought so hard for.

And Dimitri recovered, by the time Faerghus’s chilling winds had brought snow back to the city. He walked out onto the balcony of the palace, and the people of Fhirdiad had gathered in the streets for him, just as they had after he had retaken the capital from Cornelia a year ago. After all the suffering she had known he went through in the past month, at his bedside the entire time, there was nothing that could have prepared her for the rush of emotions that overcame her when she saw Dimitri smiling at the people of Fhirdiad. Ever the intense empathetic soul he was, Dimitri immediately scooped her up into his arms, in front of everyone. Her first real large gathering in the palace, and everyone saw her crying and clinging to Dimitri.

On the bright side, such a sight made Dimitri and Marianne’s relationship incredibly popular across all of Fodlan, when news spread that Marianne had personally tended to him and not left his side. Dimitri’s more... savvy advisors touted that seeing Marianne express such raw emotion made her seem more human to their subjects, or something like that. Considering she had only really been with Dimitri in public during small festivals or meetings, she assumed everyone by now knew she was just very nervous at the prospect of being a queen. What else could she be but human? She didn’t like his political advisors very much.

The entire kingdom’s joy in Dimitri’s recovery carried to his birthday, where celebrations rang out all across the country and once again, Marianne found herself traveling with him. Her emotional outburst had made her the center of attention, and suddenly everyone wanted to know about her. Certainly, she knew her adoptive father must be enjoying his own fame, as her home in a former Leicester territory was quite well known. She was just happy that the western lords, whom Dimitri had been quite light on their punishment when considering the trouble they caused, were clearly not as popular as they thought they were. House Rowe, who had once been the major power in the region, now bowed the knee to House Gaspard, led by Ashe.

Between parties, Dedue told her that Dimitri was glad the rest of Fodlan was finally seeing her as he saw her, though it made him a bit jealous that her attention was constantly being taken away by someone else. She resolved to do something with this information.

They got on a horse together and rode off early in the morning one day, making tracks in the fresh blanket of snow. Though the path was covered, Dimitri knew it by heart as these were the trails he had rode as a boy, sometimes with Felix, Sylvain, and Ingrid, sometimes alongside Gilbert and Glenn, and other times by himself. And they spent the day in the snow, laughing and twirling, throwing snow at one another, that surely if any onlooker did not know this was the king and future queen of Fodlan, didn’t know of the darkness that either of them had pushed their way out of and overcome, would probably have just rolled their eyes at two young, foolish lovers. Because certainly that was how Marianne felt as she danced around her first real snowfall of Faerghus.

When Dimitri kissed her, it all came rushing back. Everything they had been through, everything they had suffered and all the people they had lost, all the victories and the relief when it was all over. All the ways her life had changed just by knowing him. And Marianne smiled, because even though she was still scared about it all, he would be there.

And then the snow started to melt, the trees began to bud again. At the beginning of spring a year after she had moved to Fhirdiad, Marianne and Dimitri were wed to begin their lives together and guide the people of Fodlan beyond the war that had once divided them.

#dimimari week #dimimari week 2020 #dimitri/marianne #original post by bree #bree writes #fire emblem fanfiction #really proud of this prompt honestly #thanks for all the love y'all

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loyalflutist · 5 years ago

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Fodlan Holy Grail War (Chapter 1)

Characters present: Edelgard, Dimitri, Claude, Hubert, Ferdinand, Petra, Dorothea, Bernadetta, Caspar, Linhardt, Ingrid, Felix, Sylvain, Dedue, Mercedes, Annette, Ashe, Leonie, Lorenz, Lysithea, Raphael, Ignatz, Hilda, Marianne, Rhea, Flayn, Seteth, Catherine, Hanneman, Manuela, Byleth Pairings: Felix x Annette, slight Hilda x Marianne, very slight Edelgard x f!Byleth (Edeleth)

A/N: So... this is a lengthy chapter... and I didn’t expect to become lengthy. Most of my old chapters in my old series range between 3k - 5k maximum. This? It was 6.8k+. It burnt me out, lol. However, I had fun sticking as many characters as I possibly can for the first chapter! Hope you all enjoy this. :) I had fun writing it.

Previous Chapter: Prologue Next Chapter: Chapter 1

----

“I hope my kid gets in.”

“He’s a commoner. You know they only enlist the richest of the rich.”

“Are you sure about that? There are some students who aren’t from nobility.”

“Yeah, but they have to have a Crest.”

“That’s wrong.”

“No, you’re wrong. They need to have the Crest.”

“My daughter will find a worthy partner!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Why not just marry her off to some rich noble?”

“My grandchildren’s future would be secured if they get in.”

“I can finally find a worthy opponent.”

“I’ll never get in…”

“Cheers!”

Commoners and nobilities mingled and exchanged powerful wishes and lamentations unto each other. Whether they spoke to those that wear their aromatic perfumes in large dosage or to those that wore nothing more than tattered rags, they chirped and frolicked like birds. It was as if a festival bloomed in all three nations simultaneously. Celebrations and haughty statements were tossed around like playthings. Anxiety and tears shed from the inevitable truths. Anticipations gnawed at their mangled souls.

Everyone knew what this month entails. Every five years, on the Guardian Moon (January), a letter from the archbishop would be sent to prospective students throughout the continent. Wings fluttered about over the population. Bells chimed in the background to signal the start of sunset. Stray feathers lazily descended upon the land from the orange sky. Children would squeal and leap, their hands outstretched to catch the pure object, the adults staring intently at the flock like predators. Many elders sunk to their knees, their clasped hands violently trembled, prayers muttered with incredible speed.

All for an invitation to Garreg Mach Monastery.

Its name easily rolls off from one’s tongue. Not more than 50 years had passed when the holy institution was instated as an academy for the continent, yet it managed to pridefully puff its chest. It is a prestigious academy so many yearned to attend. Only the best of the best was considered. After all, the monastery welcomed its gifted students with open arms for opportunities they would never get anywhere else. Future leaders and heroic warriors were products of the school’s program. Not a single student dropped out of each academic term. Everything must glisten in gold. Accepting mediocrity would sully their pristine image.

The Adrestian Empire, the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, and the Leicester Alliance were invited to send over their best civilians. Letters were mailed out by white owls to potential candidates; details about the invitations and academic programs sunk its sweet tooth into their recipients.

“Looks like things are about to get serious,” the brown-haired grinned, his scroll crinkled in his grip. He glanced at the wide-eyed bird. Still smiling, he slid over to his right, his hand outstretched to the thin utensil. “It doesn’t hurt to spend five years in training.”

It was as if he had outlined his course of action down cold. Hesitation was never his middle name, anyway. Past the basked warmth of his private quarters, into the corridor, Hilda peered from the corner like a Peeping Tom. Hark, she was not the only person guilty! Various members arched their neck, their head, their ears craving for delicious news.

Claude von Riegan snagged a nearby feathered pen on his desk. The young lad dipped its tip into an inkpot and fluidly circled his response on the smoothed letter. His wrist haphazardly flicked within seconds for a signature.

Submission of his response granted him the role of House Leader for the Golden Deer House from the Leicester Alliance. Hilda, Raphael, Ignatz, Marianne, Lysithea, Leonie, and Lorenz were chosen by the Church of Seiros to follow him that fateful day.

“My Lord, will you be going?”

Another young male held the letter. He shifted the crinkled paper, his bright hues aimed at his closest friend. Dedue’s inquiry caused a soft hum to sing from the blonde. At that same moment, the owl tilted its head, a soft coo harmonic.

“I will,” he twirled the feathered pen, his lips firmed, and his voice solemn. “If this will let me redeem the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus to its former glory, then I will attend.”

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd pressed his utensil unto the thick parchment. There was a circular motion of his wrist, and, shortly afterward, zig-zagged it for a signature.

Submission of his response granted him the role of House Leader for the Blue Lions House from the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. Felix, Sylvain, Ingrid, Ashe, Dedue, Mercedes, and Annette were chosen by the Church of Seiros to follow him that fateful day.

“Everything is falling in place,” the white-haired grimaced, her fingertips unsteadily smoothing amongst the moist palms. “I must accept the invitation.”

“Are you certain, Lady Edelgard?”

Hubert stood in her shadows. No— he is her shadow. His second posture flickered in time with the lonesome candle. She completely unfolded the scroll to the owl’s supervision. The feathered ally blinked once. She nodded. Then, the young gentleman rested a hand on his chest, the darkness discoloring the smooth beauty of his porcelain pale skin. He bowed deeper than any loyal retainer would to their lord.

Edelgard von Hresvelg stroked the application with grace and delicacy. Weaves danced upon the page in a singular motion of her wrist.

Submission of her response granted her the role of House Leader for the Black Eagles House from the Adrestian Empire. Dorothea, Petra, Hubert, Ferdinand, Caspar, Linhardt, and Bernadette were chosen by the Church of Seiros to follow her that fateful day.

Everything has been set into stone. Owls hooted their final call to the upcoming students, their wings flapped in tempo. Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude watched from high above, their pupils directed at the glistening land. The white bird was soon nothing more than a dot in the vast, orange sky. They shifted the weight on their feet, their grip tightening on the opened window's edge, their eyelids fluttered from the pleasant breeze flowing parts of their locks, all conducted simultaneously in a symphony. Now, the students must wait for the Great Tree Moon (April).

-----

Harpstring Moon (May). It has been one month since their arrival; one month at the famous Garreg Mach Monastery. Lengthy orientations and settlement were slowing to a standstill. Booming chatters and flurried excitement comfortably dipped into dignified and refined tranquility. Almost everyone had familiarized themselves with their surroundings and colleagues. Those that did not would quickly catch up.

Lady Rhea, standing in her bedroom, slowly exhaled. Birds chirped in volumes that penetrated the glassed barrier, their small bodies soaring to everlasting freedom. Tis’ the season for Spring to reach the finishing line. Their eventual retirement would pave way for the new, blistering season. She blinked. Both of her hands were raised, fingers intertwined, palms impressed, and head lowered; her silent prayers ushered into nothingness.

“Lady Rhea, how are you faring?”

Seteth stood at the doorway. Rigidity colored his posture, his bright hues gently lay to rest upon the holy maiden’s figure, to which it was drummed with the afternoon heat. She remained still and unmoving from her prayer. The same could not be said about her thin lips, its movement as casual as it could get.

“You need not worry about me, Seteth, but I am well.”

“I see.”

“How are the students?”

The songs from those birds increased in frequency. Melodies tinkered to their eardrums, their notes bouncing about within their heart, their natural passion embracing their souls. Seteth smiled in response.

“Noisy as ever.”

He could only use euphemism to describe it all.

The first month was beyond hectic. “Noisy” hardly captured the real image. Light tremors reverberated throughout the monastery. Overwhelming energy eradicated the lonesome premise once home to mere foot soldiers and bodyguards. Everyone had their eyes on each other. Crow’s feet were an epidemic as they exchanged formal greetings; some informal, such as Mercedes and Annette, where friendly hugs and kisses were given and received. An aromatic smoke wafted from the large cafeteria, sucking the population’s majority into its already-crowded site, the hopes of alleviating the chaos from outside.

“H-Hey! Linhardt, why aren’t you letting me grab thirds?!” Caspar’s reach trembled, his sight glued to the meaty target. “I’m really hungry!”

“Did you forget that there are other students in line after you?” Linhardt shook his head. “We need to leave some for them.”

“It’s a first-come, first-serve basis.”

“No, it’s not.”

“I’m going to starve!”

“You will not.”

“Yes, I will!”

“I suggest you change your eating habits then. It won’t hurt missing one drumstick from your diet.”

“LINHARDT!”

It is unfortunate traffic began to jam from the inside, its chaotic nature having shifted to a new location.

“Oi, are you both done yet?”

Felix felt his vein bulge from his head, his piercing eyes sparing no one. His metallic tray gloried its empty content before the bickering duo. Their shoulders slumped as their jaws clamped. Caspar would normally argue. It was his nature to counter a sharp response with another sharp response, albeit slightly weaker. Yet his blood stiffened at the sight. Linhardt shook his head again.

“Oh dear… It’s time we find a seat.”

An apology was delivered swiftly to his doorstep and they promptly removed themselves from the counter. The young male rubbed a couple of fingers against his temple, a huff escaping.

“Thank God they’re gone. They’re so annoying.”

“Felix, you shouldn’t say that!” Annette popped her head in with a bow. She gazed upon the sword-wielder with puffed cheeks. “Besides, they’re just getting food.”

“They were holding up the line, Ann.”

“You could’ve asked them politely.”

“Well, it’s too late for that now.”

“I think you should change your scary expression.”

“Oh, really?”

“I admit, it’s not as scary as Dimitri, but you should really smile more often.”

He scoffed. Felix plopped a chunk of sliced steak onto his newly placed plate riddled with greeneries and bread. His eyes slanted, turned towards Annette, and proceeded to drop a large quantity of meat onto her plate, despite her earlier objections.

“I would never be like the Boar Prince.”

“If you say so. I still think you should smile more in public.”

“…”

“Felix?”

“Annette,” the two have stepped away from the elongated counter, swooped down to press his lips upon her cheek. It left a tingly aftermath on Annette’s rosy cheeks, her feet tangled from an accidental crooked misstep. Felix freed one hand and intercepted her fall. Their faces were in short proximity, their breaths puffed amongst each other’s skin. Flames sharply ignited their skin with a roar as he whispered, “I want to shower you and only you with my smiles.”

“F-Felix…”

“Wow~ Take it to the bedroom, you two.”

Felix and Annette snapped their heads up. Seated from one of the table’s end, Leonie, Hilda, Marianne, and Ashe watched the two interact. Hilda smirked, her tongue holding no restraint. Besides her, the weary blue-haired student anxiously tugged on the pink-haired’s sleeve. Inaudible utters tumbled out of her parted lips, her pleas unheard by the female. As for Ashe and Leonie, they did their best to eat in silence, yet their ears perked for worthwhile events. Felix narrowed his eyes.

“You got a lot of nerve saying that to us, Hilda.”

“Felix—”

“Relax, Ann, I’m not going to hurt her.”

He approached the sitting Golden Deer. Though his hands were occupied, his mouth was not, and he happily made use of it. Verbiage intent on reprimanding filled the silent void Hilda purposely created. She plopped her chin on the palm of her hand, unblinking, and possibly bored out of her mind. Hilda did not bother to stifle her yawn either, letting it loose for the whole world to witness. Marianne felt parts of her soul fly out of her body, and dread shadowed over her eyes.

“Hilda, please apologize to him…” Marianne pleaded, her tugs becoming more apparent. “We… don’t want to cause trouble again…”

“Again…?” Annette raised a brow. “It’s only the first day we’ve been here.”

“Um… well… We accidentally broke a merchant’s axe…”

“How so?”

“Hil— I…. crashed into it—”

“Marianne! It was me, silly!” Hilda had done a complete 180 and swerved her attention to the shorter female. The energy that lay dormant bubbled to the surface, her arms pulling her friend into a tight embrace. Marianne felt her strength wither as her eyes widened. The sensation of her weight was still in her arms as Hilda glanced over at Annette. “It was me. I broke it. Not her.”

“…really?”

“Yes! I actually broke it with my bare hand!”

“Are you sure you aren’t covering up for her—”

“I. Did. It.”

“Hey! Why are you ignoring me!?”

“Pipe down, Felix,” Leonie waved her fork. “I’m trying to eat here!”

“Oi, Hilda started it!”

“And you continued!”

“Why are people so— You know what? Nevermind.”

“Hah? Could you elaborate on your unfinished statement?”

“I think this conversation is over, comrade.”

“Fine!”

Felix and Leonie fumed. Imaginary puffs of air emanated the dramatists. Soap opera would want to take note of their interactions for the next spectacular feature. Ashe began to laugh after settling the metallic mug onto the table.

“It sure is lively.”

“Lively? I think it’s outright noisy.”

The orange-haired promptly slugged his shoulder. Ashe ran out of language, incoherent sound effects elicited, and his hand furiously rubbing the affected area. His endurance is above average. He had an innate ability to run longer, burn faster, and bear far more than an ordinary boy similar in age and stature. If given the chance, his splendors would be renowned at the monastery. Yet he underestimated the power of a person called “Leonie.”

“Ow… You don’t hold your punches back, do you?”

“Why should I?”

“…”

Women are scary! Leonie especially! Such prowess that bundled and coiled in the young girl… How is that possible!? Sweat flew from his head dramatically as Leonie jabbed her fork into another piece of protein, its squelch muted from the rowdy setting. Felix fingers ran through his black hair, Annette appearing back by his side and pulling on his arm.

Ignatz and Raphael, who sat on the opposite end, pinned their gaze upon the small group. Flailing of arms, subjectless exclamations, and unnecessary lamentations painted the group as a form of entertainment.

“Ignatz, you think they’ll ever stop?”

“I don’t think so…”

“Why can’t they take it out on the training ground? I heard it’s good for sparring.”

The young boy shrugged his shoulders. As if on cue, the level of noise had risen. Vocals were lost amidst the background, his lips moving without sound.

“— - –—"

It went on for a couple of seconds, hinting of its lengthy content. Raphael was unable to grasp any of them; not a single peep was grasped and stuffed into his eardrums. He leaned forward, his muscular chest pressed upon the extended furniture, and tried to hear his artsy friend.

“——-—"

Raphael frowned. Under normal circumstances, one would speak up. This was not the case for the mighty brawn.

In contrast to their curiosity, Mercedes and Ferdinand could not bear to look. The mantle of responsible dependency rest over the duo’s shoulders.

“This is turning out to be a lively first day,” Mercedes giggled, her spoon scooping bits of the honeyed porridge. She tucked a stray strand behind her ear, her long eyelashes fluttering. “I hope it will stay this way for a long time.”

“It will happen if you strongly believe in it,” Ferdinand motioned.

His absurd confidence resonated in her heart, the healer shooting a glance. An amused hum stroked his taste buds once he took another bite from the salad bowl, oblivious to the probing gaze. She tilted her head. There had to be discrepancies with his proclamations and reality. Mercedes is a devout believer for religion and charity, but even she knows about the harsh conditions real-life posed.

“How could you be so sure?”

“Because I am Ferdinand von Aegir.”

“…oh! I… see.”

Did she expect something deeper from him?

“…”

He beamed. She reciprocated with a beam of her own. Maybe she was asking too much from him.

Nearby the four eaters, a black shadow zipped by. None of them had sensed the abnormality. Another shadow scurried after the first foreigner. That was when their sight and auditory senses kicked in.

“Was that Sylvain?” Raphael blinked. “What’s he doing?”

“I’m not too sure… It’s probably not something good, knowing him.”

“You think so too, Ferdinand?”

“I can attest to that, fufu~”

A shudder ran down Ignatz’s spine. “Y-You’re kind of scaring me, Mercedes…”

“PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Students standing and nestled near one of the four doorways nearly went into cardiac arrest, their hands immediately resting over the wildly thumping organ. Glares and bewilderment shot at the fatigued girl. Bernadetta had burst from the cafeteria. Under normal circumstances, she would cower from their dagger-like stares. However, their eyes were the least of her problems…

“W-Where… Where can I go?!”

She had to run. She had to hide. She had to disappear.

Hot behind her trail was Sylvain. The young noble tossed his hand out to the doorway’s border. He grunted, his firm fingers curled inward, and swung his body out into the open with a sharp turn.

“Bernadetta!” he hollered. “Come back here, will you!?”

The fluttering of loose-leaf papers threatened to fly away like a bird from his grip, an entrapped victim desiring for release. Sylvain’s fast feet neared the writer, but he was careless. Smooth as the road may be, the pathways were littered with specks of debris, with some large enough to warrant a red flag.

“WHOA!”

He stumbled forward. Life danced before his eyes, Sylvain’s arms frantically mimicking wings, his frail balance with gravity fractured. Sweat poured from his pores and his breath hitched. Multiple half-steps pitter and pattered in front of one another while incoherent outcries sputtered. By the time he reconnected with the earth by kissing its pavement, the papers had all flown away to its yearnful freedom.

Bells chimed throughout the academic ground as tens of scribbled sheets scattered the clear blue sky. Day owls hooted, its wide eyes estimating the distance of its haphazard counterpart during its flight. Five of the wonderful creatures flapped and urged forward into the open plane.

High above the training ground, they traveled with sporadic battle shouts emitted from Ingrid and Petra. Two partners clunk and smacked their wooden sword.

“Haaaaah—!”

Petra swung the blunt end down. Ingrid immediately adjusted her posture, her knees bent, and her right foot slid backward. The knight raised her weapon vertically.

‘ CLUNK! ‘

Comma sweats crawled down to her chin as Ingrid felt her wrist creak. Petra’s feet returned back to earth, but not without applying an extra layer of pressure onto her opponent’s wooden sword, her arms shoved forward with a grunt. Ingrid nearly bit her lower lip, a tiny lump traveling down her throat. The Brigid princess is strong.

“Take this!”

The knight instantly reduced her strength. Petra’s figure lurched forward from the unexpected loss of equilibrium, her stability with gravity disrupted. Ingrid sidestepped to provide room for her fall. She elegantly twirled the training wood at hand and thrust it outward to “stab” Petra.

“Oh my gosh…” Dorothea watched from the distant, her hand covering her mouth. Petra had twisted her body enough during the collapse to avoid the assault. The songstress clutched her chest, small clumps of her brown hair clung to her moist forehead. “This is so stressful to watch.”

The two wonderful ladies sparred to test their might and the two had asked Dorothea to be the judge. But… who should she cheer for? Petra came from her house, but Ingrid was always there for her since the day they stepped foot. It didn’t help that they were both a beauty. Luscious hair, bountiful maturity, toned figures, delicate fleeting touches— Wait, why was she thinking about that?! She underwent her own mighty battle as the clunking of the wooden blades continuously overlapped.

Surprisingly, not one page had descended upon the monastery’s ground. The owls gave another hoot. High above the marketplace, they traveled and Lysithea, Lorenz, Hubert, and Dedue stood amongst the growing crowd.

“Ugh, I think that’s unfashionable,” Lorenz shook his head, his hand resting on his forehead. “I would expect better from you.”

“That’s rude to say that to them!” Lysithea elbowed the taller male. She furrowed her brows. “You know they’ve traveled far out here to sell their goods. Give them a break.”

“Unfortunately, if they were passionate, their products wouldn’t like this.”

“Lorenz!”

“It belongs in the U-category for ugliness.”

Unfortunately for the two, the merchant they were squabbling in front of began to see red. His shaky hands extended outward to the broom. The still shadow of fury washed over his eyes, his wooden stick slapped the stall’s pole. Both visitors felt beads of sweat fly out of their heads at the newfound sight. Death rarely crossed their minds, but today was one of them.

“It was nice visiting your shop, mister!”

Lorenz was about to follow the praising Lysithea when— oopsie! He was shoved towards the furious owner! A shriek slipped out after a narrow escape from certain doom, the stick walloped the ground mere centimeters from bodily contact.

“LYSITHEA!”

Hubert and Dedue glanced over to the rowdy Golden Deer.

“My, how unpleasant,” Hubert grumbled. He snapped shut one of the two spellbooks in his hands. “If Lady Edelgard would be disturbed by these silly activities, I would have to do something about it.”

“I object,” Dedue crossed his arms. “I understand where you are coming from, but that is not the correct way to serve your lord.”

“Excuse me, did I ask for your opinion.”

“No, but it is something I had to say.”

Hubert narrowed his eyes. “I think it would be wise for you to keep your opinion to yourself, Dedue.”

“…”

Dedue resisted the temptation to sigh. Out of all the students he had met, he knew they would have a rickety relationship. Perhaps they will never see eye-to-eye, and perhaps that will never happen. Nonetheless, their upmost loyalty to their lord was commendable. Hubert respected Dedue for serving Dimitri, and Dedue respected Hubert for serving Edelgard.

Past the students, more students arrived from all three nations like little ants through the gate. The gatekeeper’s cheerful “Welcome!” brightened their spirit for their new life. They were going to spend the next five years working, challenging, learning, loving, and forging bonds. It was an opportunity not many were granted.

They came in all different sizes and shapes. Some were from nobility. They were given special treatment by the Church, their accommodations sate the high-leveled expectations for their living conditions. Many possess some form of Crest, whether it be minor or major. Some were commoners. They were given resources by the Church, their accommodations sate their basic necessities for their living conditions. Very few possess any form of Crest.

House leaders were handpicked and determined by the archbishop, Lady Rhea, since day one. Edelgard von Hresvelg, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, and Claude von Riegan would act as this academic term’s house leaders.

Edelgard von Hresvelg would become house leader for the Black Eagles.

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd would become house leader for the Blue Lions.

Claude von Riegan would become house leader for the Golden Deer.

“And so… we meet again, Dimitri,” Edelgard lowered her teacup. She sat opposite of the blonde, her lilac hues keeping tabs on his every action. “Though I cannot say I didn’t expect this.”

“I agree,” Dimitri chuckled. “Since you did not return to my kingdom, I predicted this might happen. You’ve changed though…”

“In what way?”

“Your hair—”

“That might be for another time.”

The abrupt cut off slashed hard. Dimitri blinked a couple of times in silence, his teacup returned to the clothed mat. Loveliest of all trees ruffled from overhead as a breeze smoothed their exposed skin. He lowered his eyes, a heavy weight nestled between his shoulder blades.

“Perhaps another time.”

Though silence should have followed, Claude intertwined his fingers, chin rested on them, elbows on the table, and tilted his head.

“What shouldn’t be saved for another time is how you both know each other. Spill me the tea.”

“I don’t know, Claude,” Dimitri bitterly smiled. “It’s a long story.”

“I agree. It might sour our teatime session too.”

“Aw, you’re both no fun,” the young man smirked. “Why not tell me? I promise to tell you something in exchange.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know… Maybe about my past too.”

“Hoh… That’s quite a trade.”

“Trust me. Here, I’ll give you a little snippet, free of charge,” Claude straightened his posture and coughed into his fist. “Not too long ago, I bumped into two fabulous people. They were of nobility, yet they seem to know each other.”

“Claude…”

“One was a cute little princess, and one was a grumpy looking prince.”

“Claude.”

“And I hope we could become good friends.”

“CLAUDE.”

Edelgard and Dimitri overlapped, their cheeks flushed. Claude placed his hands behind his head and winked.

“It’s a good story, don’t you think?”

-----

Now, a month scampered forward, to where Seteth, Rhea, Flayn, and Catherine stood inside of the holy church ground. Seteth was bent down, his fingers brushing black ink on the pristine surface, faint squeaks occasionally cracking the still atmosphere. Flayn bent forward in a similar fashion, hands behind her back, and observing the process. Those paired bright hues, accompanied by a smile, flickered between her older brother and the ritual drawings.

“I’m excited to see who the new professors and staff are.”

Garreg Mach Monastery had a tradition every five years: the Garreg Summoning Ritual. Led by the Church of Seiros and its headmaster, Lady Rhea, this was one of the many options to tackle economical strategies. Funds from the Church were finite; there was only so much their nails could scrape in from donations. So they turned their heads towards a new shining beacon.

Three students from nobility, who would naturally become house leaders, were invited to complete the mandatory summoning ritual. Being chosen as house leaders were not an easy feat. The students had to derive from a long legacy of lineage fit to rise to the role. A large quantity of magical energy, called mana, was required to fulfill their position. This was so they can summon their professors.

Unlike other academic institutions, Rhea expressed this unique tradition for over 50 years. The act of calling forth their instructor would help bolster the students’ performances with a teacher fit for their personalities, attitudes, and beliefs. It was the perfect substitution for conducting costly background checks and hiring of adjuncts and tenures.

“To be honest, Flayn, I’m a little worried who they will be. I still cannot get over the fact one of the students summoned a thief!”

“He was stealing a lot of our supplies, wasn’t he?”

“Unfortunately.”

“If I hadn’t caught him, the church would have been in a pinch.”

Seteth paused. He glanced up from the fresh circle, his chuckle apparent. Catherine, on the sideline, cracked her knuckles.

“I would’ve pummeled him if it weren’t for Flayn.” No moral restraint… a rather prominent feature in very few warriors like her. “The fact that he would take Lady Rhea’s belongings deserved more than a simple execution.”

So long as it was in the name of Lady Rhea, she would chop up her limbs and offer it up to the holy maiden.

“I am certain that would not happen again.” Rhea stepped forward once Seteth rose from his crouch. “I have prayed to the Goddess for good fortune. I can sense that this year will be one that will forever be remembered.”

Catherine’s knuckles suddenly whitened, her grip tightening on the relic’s handle, and jawlines outlined from the smell of fresh meat purifying the distilled air. The double doors creaked. Sharp eyes penetrated the sturdy chests of the incoming house leaders. Claude and Dimitri each pushed one half of the majestic, tall barrier, Edelgard walking between the tall boys. It was picturesque.

Seteth and Flayn returned to Rhea’s side as the archbishop silently motioned her hand down to Catherine. A grunt as she eased her hold, but not without a displeased exhale. The top-ranking Knight served under the name of Seiros stepped back. Her eyes had not left the three students, however.

Archbishop bowed.

“Greetings, House Leaders. I hope you have familiarized yourself with the Officers Academy.”

“I think we’ve had plenty to check around,” Claude said. “One month is enough to make us experts for any visitors.”

His jokes were not received— Rather, Rhea rolled over and onward from his witty remark. She slowly looked at the marked ground.

“I have also requested that you participate in the Garreg Summoning Ritual. You all were required to bring three items that you wish to use for the tradition.”

Then, she returned her gaze to the trio.

“You will be their Master and they will be your Servant. But you will refer to them as your Professor.” Her eyes were crinkled. “Are you prepared?”

Dimitri, Claude, and Edelgard nodded. Their silence following afterward notion the archbishop to beckon them forth.

“Best wishes, my children. May the Goddess watch over you.”

One at a time, they stood in front of the archaic circle, their hands and pockets filled. Compatibility may play a heavy influence on their soulful incantations, but the students’ chosen objects held some degree of control over who their professor would be. They exchanged glances. The question now lies if Lady Luck would bestow her magic for them.

The first to stand is Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd. He pieced the three chosen objects with great care upon the circular design. A monocle, a parchment on tactics, and blood from a dying boar preyed the markings. His vial had tipped upside down after a complete stride. Dimitri stuffed the stained glass into his pocket, the metallic iron smeared his and his friends’ olfactory. The Prince of Faerghus raised his hand.

Stanza after stanza riddled the tense environment. Sky blue light illuminated beneath his feet, a gust of wind swirled around the noble, his navy cape flapping in the air. Searing heat crackled into the back of his hand, his brows scrunched, and his stifled cries noticeable. Dimitri’s chants maintain stability. There would be no interruption that would snaffle his delivery.

Bright light blinded everyone on the premise. Edelgard and Claude were forced to shield with their arms, their eyelids squeezed shut for good measures. Catherine, Seteth, and Flayn grimaced from it. Rhea calmly stood out with her holy demeanor. The entire church disappeared for a few seconds from their sight, the sky blue blanketed their vision.

Fine mist surrounded a tall man. The summoned Servant stroke his gray beard, his monocle glistening in-sync with the sunrays, and his thick coat covering all parts of his body, leaving very little room for skin exposure. He spotted the panting Dimitri, the mark of the command seal tattooed on his burning skin. Little attention was given to the others as the elder chuckled.

“So, it appears that I have been summoned by a young gentleman.” He bowed deeply. “I am Hanneman, Archer class.”

“An Archer, huh… You don’t look like one.”

“You think so?” Hanneman cupped his chin. “Then again, you speak of the truth. I am well-versed in the art of magic. As you can tell, I am nothing more than a scholar when I was alive.”

Dimitri nodded, his shaky hands coming to a standstill. It appears that the person he had summoned was not meant to be summoned into this class.

“Yikes… That’s one heck of an L you’re gonna have to take,” Claude shook his head. This bemused the new professor. Yet Dimitri responded in his place.

“I find possibilities where others see limitations, Claude. This is a gift from the Goddess.”

That earned Dimitri a whistle. The Golden Deer House Leader smiled—genuinely in fact—it stroked the blonde’s heart to a slight flutter!

“You might be right… this might be an impressive result in the end.”

Seteth proceeded to cleanse the circle in preparation for Claude as they continued their conversation. Edelgard, who had remained mute, stared down at the palms of her hands. They were violently trembling as if an earthquake descended. Was it from her nerves? She instinctively curled her fingers inward and jammed her nails. In the background, Dimitri pat Claude’s shoulder as he was next in line.

Claude von Riegan took out his belonging. A wooden flute, a package of herbal medicine, and an alcohol bottle. The first two objects held the least shock value compared to the third for both Dimitri and Edelgard. When they expressed wonderment, Claude responded with a playful tone, his hand cautiously spilling the alcoholic content.

“Random chance. I have a feeling this is going to go well.”

“I don’t think you should be horsing around with this…”

“Relax, Dimi, I got this.”

He mimicked his friend’s action after settling the empty container on the ground. Hand extended outward, his lips parted, and golden light circulated the ritual. The wind blew into their figures once again as his chants became louder. Compared to Dimitri, he was able to bear through the flaming sharpel from the forceful engraving of the command seal for the most part.

This time, the newcomer was a woman. Dressed to impress, her beauty radiating in conjunction with her angelic voice, the Servant boasts her skillsets to the witnesses.

“I am Manuela. Songstress, physician, Caster class, and available, I look forward to working with you, Claude.”

Boastful? Perhaps, but Claude sees the positive trait from it. Though some may think otherwise.

“How haughty.”

An unusual remark from Hanneman. Dimitri, Claude, and Edelgard diverted their attention to the older male, his features tinged with displeasure. Manuela felt a strong pulsation from the corner of her head. The Caster opened her mouth, paused, then clamped it close. She dryly swallowed and waved her hand.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, Hanneman. Wouldn’t want to look back in front of my new Master.”

Claude felt a nervous chortle erupt from his throat. His and Dimitri’s Servants are going to have a field day with each other… Their eyes shifted to the quiet female. Not a peep from the princess. Her nerves must have gotten the best of her, her figure stiff as a stick. They wonder… what could make her so nervous?

Their pondering continued as Seteth wiped and swept the remaining materials from the ritual. Rhea motioned once more for the final summoner. Edelgard inhaled deeply. She held it. Then, she exhaled.

Finally, it was Edelgard von Hresvelg’s turn. In her grasp were three items. Just like Dimitri and Claude, they were special in their own way. They picked it with careful consideration. For Edelgard, she had found these materials from the Red Canyon. Ferdinand and Hubert had accompanied her for the abrupt trip. Compared to Claude and Dimitri, she felt a strong, magnetic pull to the location. It was almost as if it were calling for her.

A rustic piece from a shattered sword, a torn patch from a dark overcoat, and… that was it.

“Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation Let my great Master Hresvelg be the ancestor”

Rhea widened her eyes when she spotted the white-haired unsheathing the dagger from behind.

“Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall Let the four cardinal gates close. Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate.”

Its slithering blade shone as Edelgard brought it high above her head. Catherine reached for her sword, her wrist prepared.

“I hereby declare Your body shall serve under me.”

The tip moved in a curvature. A crimson line was left in its wake, the blood oozing out of her self-infliction.

“My fate shall be your sword.”

She tilted her hand despite the throbbing aches scratching underneath her cut.

“Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail If you will submit to this will and this reason… Then answer!”

Gentle vermillion light encapsulated everyone present. Its rays brightened with each drip of her blood, her offering sating the slumbering Servant. At that same moment, a fiery ignition dragged burning hot iron on the back of her hand. Edelgard bit back a whimper. She grabbed ahold of her extended wrist with pinched features.

“An oath shall be sworn here! I shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven. I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell!”

A gust far more powerful than that from previous sessions threatened to fling the students away. Seteth and Catherine had embraced Flayn and Rhea respectively, their feet rooted to the vibrating floors. Dimitri and Claude struggled to keep afoot. Their narrowed eyes peered through the slits as Edelgard forced herself upright. The grip that kept her wrist in place squeezed until her blood circulation drastically slowed.

“From the Heaven, attended to by three great words of power Come forth from the ring of restraints, Protector of the Holy Balance!”

Just like Dimitri and Claude’s session, white light enveloped their five senses.

“…”

Smoke lingered in the air, but at the center of the summoning circle, no one had appeared. Everyone waited with bated breaths. Seconds transitioned into a minute. The silence was all that resulted. She glanced down at the back of her injured hand. The aching red mark resembling that of an unknown Crest seared into her skin. Yet this excruciating process yielded no Servant.

“…why?”

Edelgard sunk to her knees.

Had she failed? Was this all a fluke in the end? Edelgard groveled at the tainted ground, her magma-red blood engulfing the entirety of her wounded palm in its flames. The command seal was still present. What did she do wrong? Tears spurted from her lacrimal glands, those salty substances hurried to separate from her skin and onto the flat surface. Claude and Dimitri exchanged worrisome glances.

“Edelgard…”

“Princess…”

They approached the withered youngster. They stood nearby but found the inability to engage sympathetically. After all, their Servants lingered from behind. The boys were able to call forth their professor, and Edelgard was unable to. They would never be able to understand her anguish.

“This isn’t fair…” she hoarsely whispered. “Did I do… Is this karma?”

“Karma? Don’t be silly,” Dimitri shook his head. He kneeled to her level and eyed the female. He was not sure what she meant by karma, but it crushed his heart to see his childhood friend defeated. “Your Professor might come. You still have your command seal.”

“That means nothing if they don’t appear.”

“Is this thing rigged?” Claude’s attention diverted to the older adults. He motioned towards the weeping girl. “This isn’t supposed to mess up, right?”

Rhea shook her head. “This is the first that had happened before. All professors were able to be summoned the past nine times.”

“You didn’t have to include that last part, you know.”

“Hey, don’t speak to Lady Rhea like that, young man,” Catherine stepped forward and viciously pointed his finger. “Know your place.”

Claude huffed. He shrugged his shoulders and abandoned insanity. “I apologize. I’m a bit frustrated too for Edelgard—”

‘ BANG! ‘

It was immediately accompanied by a distant crackling of heavy logs tumbling on top of each other. Students and staff alike perked their ears. Claude and Dimitri immediately assisted in Edelgard’s recovery, their Servants swiftly turning to the source. Precautions were taken as their chosen Class weapons were pulled out. Catherine completely unsheathed her Thunderbrand, its electricity crackled and popped without restraint. Seteth shielded both Flayn and Rhea with his arms, his body ready to absorb any potential damages.

Once the dust had settled before them, they were greeted with a spectacular sight. The Goddess Seiros must have shone her lucky stars to the warrior. Stones and obliterated woods formed as a piece of disheveled furniture. Arms resting on the natural armrest, palm pressed on the Sword of Creator’s hilt, and cheek leaning on her elbowed hand, she slowly opened her eyes.

“…”

Could this be…? Edelgard’s jelly legs wobbled as she approached the arrogantly seated woman. The roles were reversed. Edelgard collapsed onto one knee, head raised to the female like a Servant as the Servant exerted regality like a Master. Navy hues dragged its gaze to the fallen. She examined the student with scrutiny.

“Your blood…” The newcomer had gotten up from her seat, kneeled, and instantly greeted the magus with a kiss on the gash. Normally, this would be viewed as romantic, but not a lick of emotion crossed. When she parted, sticky fluid clung to bits of her chin. “I’m bad at healing, but this is the least I could do.”

Perhaps this is part of an innate skill the Servant has. The shallow infliction had dissipated, leaving behind a bloody mess of leftover iron.

Then, she got up, sword still at hand. Edelgard watched in awe from below as the Servant quietly spoke,

“Byleth. Saber class. Tell me… are you my Master?"

#loyalflutist #fodlan holy grail war #chapter 1 #fanfic #fan fiction #fanfiction #fan fic #series #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #felix x annette #slight:#edeleth #f!byleth x edelgard #hilda x marianne #hildanne #(???)#what are most of these ships name lmao #also won't bother to tag all of the characters for this chapter because it's tooooo much

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abutterflyscribbles · 6 years ago

Text

Those Chains That Bind You: Kidnapping AU Part 8

Anon prompted me:

[Strange Magic] au where kidnapping is a thing before courting. Marianne kidnaps Bog. Spiraled into an Political Marriage AU with lots of pining and extensive worldbuilding.

Prologue/Chapter One/Chapter Two/Chapter Three/ChapterFour/Five/Seven and Ao3

(Hello, dear readers, thank you for waiting so long and so patiently for this update. You’re lofely. Please reblog and comment. Also I don’t know why I’m missing links to some of the chapters sorry)

It had been hours before Bog worked up the nerve to make the necessary arrangements and a few more to force his feet to take him to Marianne's door.

All these hours were spent trying to get on with reorganizing the day-to-day tasks to accommodate the fairy guests while eluding his mother. There were also three elf guests in addition to Sunny, Bog discovered. They were introduced as representatives of the three largest elf villages, filling positions somewhat like lords, seeing to the maintenance the lands, only without the rank or profit.

“Dawn invited them,” Sunny explained to Bog, “We've—Dawn and me—been trying to get a couple of them onto the council, but I didn't even think of inviting anybody along on this trip. Dawn figured that it would be good to make sure fairies and elves were on friendly terms with the Dark Forest.”

“A canny girl.” Bog had said, considering Dawn in a new light. He hadn't thought she was one with a head for politics. Really, it shouldn't have been surprising. The girl had been raised to it from birth and it would have been a wonder if nothing of her education was retained beneath those yellow curls.

Bog was still unsure if he approved of the system of a throne passed down through bloodline rather than being taken by one who was strong and sharp enough to take it, but the idea of being educated to fit the role from the start made him wistful. When he had started out to be king, once upon a time, he hadn't had the faintest notion of what tedious, worrying work it was to run a kingdom.

Maybe if someone had been there to teach him how a king ought to behave . . . maybe things would have been different. Maybe he wouldn't have been entering Marianne's room with a heavy heart. Maybe he would have at least been able to face this trial sooner rather than hiding like a snail in its shell.

“Hi,” Marianne offered after several minutes of them sitting across from each other in silence. She creased folds into the blanket on her lap. He tried to decide what to do with the armful of flowers that had been forced on him. There didn't seem to be anywhere convenient to dump them. Dropping them on the floor would have been rude. Continuing to hold them felt silly.

“Hi,” Bog felt a cringing smile touch his lips, “How are you feeling?”

“Well enough that they should stop keeping me captive and torturing me with tea.”

She made a little motion to the pixies and they relieved Bog of his flowers. Marianne looked much better. It was nice to see her feeling well enough to be wearing her makeup again. She still wasn't dressed to go out, still in one of those robe things she had been wearing while she recuperated. They were light, floating garments, flimsy compared to her usual wear. Bog thought they looked nice.

Bog tried to clear his throat and ended up caught in a brief fit of coughing. He wasn't feeling altogether well. In any respect. He had made his preparations for this conversation and rehearsed at least seven different speeches at least three times each. And yet right up until he was admitted to Marianne's sitting room Bog expected to be turned away by the guards, the final decision taken out of his hands. Instead, Dawn popped out and grabbed him by the hand, yanking him in so suddenly that he only just managed to avoid slamming into the door frame. Dawn did not let go of his hand, apparently anticipating that he would bolt back into the corridor if given the chance.

“There's something I should--” Bog began.

“We really need to talk about--” Marianne started at the same time. After a breath or two of silence Marianne spoke again, “We really need to talk about . . . us.”

Bog wanted to let her continue. Then he wouldn't have to take the lead in this conversation. But if they were going to have this conversation properly all the facts had to be set out for both of them to see. Which, put like that, sounded straightforward. Except the facts were a tangled ball of dirt and roots that had to be unpicked. It couldn't be done without making a mess.

“There isn't--” Bog grasped for a way to begin, “There shouldn't be an 'us'.”

Marianne's eyebrows were very dark against the pallor of her skin and they drew clear lines of displeasure over her eyes. Bog ducked his head. That had been the wrong way to begin. Of course it had. He didn't think he had ever started anything any other way.

“If you don't want there to be an 'us',” Marianne said in a tight voice, “Please just say it clearly.”

“No, that isn't what I meant!”

“Then what do you mean?” Marianne's self-control was crumbling. She had promised herself she would be firm and calm. It would do no good to lose her temper. So of course that was the first thing she did. She lashed out, striking first before she could be struck. “Please, tell me what exactly we're supposed to be to each other so that I can behave accordingly and stop making a fool of myself, husband.”

“What do you think I'm trying to do, wife?”

“Are you here to tell me to go home?”

“No!”

“Are you asking me to stay?”

“No—ah—that is—what would you do if I did?”

“I couldn't say. I haven't been asked. One way or the other.”

“Do you want me to ask?”

Marianne bunched up one of her blankets and hurled it at Bog. Why couldn't he just ask? Why couldn't she just say what she wanted? “You don't get an answer without a question!”

“I asked a question!” Bog struggled with the blanket, its delicate weave catching on his armor.

“You did not!” Marianne's hands were clutching the arms of her chair and her wings starting to rise in anticipation of balancing her when she surged to her feet.

Bog ripped the blanket off, also on the edge of his chair, prepared for a fight. “I did--!” He stopped himself. “I didn't, did I? I'm sorry.” He did stand up, but only to come over and return Marianne's blanket. He started to lay it over her lap but the pixies smacked the back of his hand and took the blanket. It didn't hurt but Bog rubbed the back of his hand and backed away to his chair.

“No, you didn't.” Marianne agreed. Two feverish spots of red glowed on her cheeks. “You just shouted.”

“I'm not the only one! Ah. That is . . .” Bog struggled to push down his instincts to snarl at his difficulties. This wasn't something that would edge nervously out of the room and break into a run once through the door after being growled at. He had to stand his ground and speak of things that hurt him even to think of. It would be like peeling the armor off his chest and laying bare his heart. The princess . . . Marianne . . . his queen . . . she would know. She could hurt him. She could reach into his chest and squeeze his heart until the disease that festered inside spilled over and everyone would see the rotten core of him.

“It doesn't matter what I want. I don't have the right to ask you to stay.” Bog said.

Marianne's heart jumped. Her stomach twisted. She couldn't work out if she should be happy, disappointed, or frustrated. Her fingers twitched, grasping at the arms of the chair in preparation to heave herself up again. She pulled her hands back and folded them on top of the blankets on her lap. Calm. She was going to be calm.

“If you wouldn't mind, Bog, I'd like a more direct answer. Or question.”

“I—it isn't . . .” Bog ran his hand down his face. He needed to start talking. From the beginning to the end, or from the middle outwards. He just needed to push the first few words out and hopefully the rest would follow. But his throat was too tight to let the right words through. All he could get through was, “I don't know.”

Blankets and shawls fluttered to the floor. A blade bit into the back of Bog's chair, right by his left ear. Marianne's fever-flushed face was close enough to his that he could see the blue veins beneath her skin. She had grown so pale, even before she took ill. Now she looked as if a rough touch would split her skin open. Bog wanted to pick up the blankets and wrap them around her again, put her back to bed in a protective nest of blankets and furs.

“I'm trying to be patient,” Marianne informed him through clenched teeth.

“I don't want to hurt you.”

“I'm not the one who should be worried about that.” Marianne wrenched the knife out of the back of the chair. That is, she tried to. Her grip was too weak and her arm was shaking from stabbing the knife into the chair in the first place. She huffed impatiently and seized the hilt with both hands, but found that this produced no better results.

Bog's hand covered both of hers. “You're terrifying.”

“I don't need your help!” She pulled again. The blade came free with a jerk and Marianne began to tip backward. Bog caught her, rising from his chair and wrapping his arm around her. The knife had landed softly on a blanket.

“I'm fine. I'm fine!” Marianne snapped, shoving him away and going back to her seat. At least, Bog thought that was what she had intended. Somehow she ended up falling forward and bumping into Bog's front.

“Please don't kill yourself while you're trying to kill me.” Bog said.

“If I were really trying you'd already be dead.” Marianne snapped.

“Oh. Of course.”

Bog wanted to hug her. Hold her close and whisper in her ear a plea for her to stay because he loved her and never wanted to be without her. The thought was pure foolishness and he stepped away, only retaining her hands to keep her from toppling.

“Fine. Fine.” Marianne grabbed the collar of Bog's carapace and pulled him down to look her in the eye, “I've humiliated myself enough already, I might as well follow it through to the end. Bog--”

“Don't.”

“I'm talking. If you asked me to stay then I would stay. I want to stay. Here. In the Dark Forest. With you. Thats what I want. If that's not what you want I'll go back with Dawn as soon as the weather permits because I'm not going to . . . if you don't feel the same . . .”

Marianne had learned the hard way that love could hurt. Except the lesson didn't seem to stick, because here she was, opening herself up for another devastating blow. It had only taken one sharp rap of reality to make her break away from Roland, so why did she keep coming back to Bog? The moments of understanding between them, was that happiness really worth all this pain? She felt like she had lifted her head high so that a knife might more easily find her throat. She was tired of glancing blows that were killing her by inches. Let it be over with once and for all.

Bog hugged her.

He completely lifted her off the floor, one hand around her waist more than enough to support her. He held her . . . she couldn't describe how he held her. Gentle, but fierce. Pulling her close but not trapping her.

“I'm sorry you feel that way.” He said.

The words hurt. The way Bog said them hurt worse. The regret in his voice. He held her so close while his words were pushing her away.

“I see.” Marianne was cradled against his shoulder, fingers still gripping his collar. “You don't—put me down. Put me down!”

Bog sank to his knees, loosening his grip only enough to let her stand.

“Let me go, Bog. I don't need your pity! You don't love me, I understand! I'll stop making a fool of myself, I'll stop wasting your time, I'll go home, I'll go away--”

A guilty whisper interrupted her, “I love you.”

Marianne choked on her words. “Say that again.”

“I love you, Marianne, but--”

Marianne kissed him. A gentle, cautious kiss, though it felt like she had thrown herself at him with wild abandon. And he kissed her back. It was a wet, salty kiss, because one of them—or both of them—was crying. Fierce, hot joy fought to spill over inside Marianne. She fought back, trying to keep it contained until that unexplained regret and sadness was banished from Bog. She hooked her arm around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. She thought she might have been laughing a little.

Bog pulled himself away from a second kiss, painfully aware and ashamed that he had let the first one happen. “I shouldn't. I shouldn't. I have no right.”

Weakness had let Bog slip into a moment of denial. Pulling himself out of it was terrible. Love. It was impossible, but such an appealing impossibility. He had let his guard down and the words came out and Marianne was in his arms. So close to him. How could she be so close and not see the truth of his rotten heart.

“Why not?” the laughter had not entirely left Marianne's voice in spite of the note of annoyance, “I'm right here telling you that you should!”

What Bog needed to say could only be put into words by brute force. The heavy chains he had bound himself with over the years, they had been loosening. This winter he had struggled against them, then clung to them. They were heavy, they hurt, but they were familiar. They felt to be as much a part of him as his wings or carapace. Now he attacked the links that had weakened in his struggles. He tore at them, edges of broken metal slashing his hands.

“I used the love potion!”

The chain gave way and Bog reeled back, no tether to keep him from falling back into the dark.

A chill bit into Marianne, right to the bone. The warm relief, the fierce, overflowing joy, dried up under the withering chill. Conflicting thoughts bashed against each other in her head, chipping off little shards of ice-like fear. There was no way Bog would use the love potion. He wasn't like that. But, if he did use it, who would he even use it on, except, perhaps . . . Just touching on the idea made her throat tight and her breath short. Her eyes darted wildly to find an exit, an escape, or even just a safe hole to bolt into. The knife, it had fallen, she couldn't see it.

She was afraid.

Bog's hand on her back felt feverishly warm in contrast to the chill that had overtaken her. That touch should have pushed her further into fear. It didn't. The confusion grew worse over this inconsistency. She found herself unable to flee or attack.

“On . . . me?” the question felt wrong in Marianne's mouth.

The shock that widened Bog's eyes took the edge off the chill. He was still kneeling on the floor, completely failing to look fearsome. “No!” He spoke in that fierce, candid way he did when taken off-guard. It was familiar and reassuring. “No. Never. I—I—never!”

Eloquent lies would fall readily from Roland's tongue in the same situation. The sort of person who would use the love potion would be riddled with lies, woven so thick and tight with them that they believed the lies were the truth. Marianne's panic was subsiding but her confusion remained. She was lost, not knowing what was happening.

“It was long ago.” Bog bowed his head. His hands slid from Marianne's waist and down her arms until he took her hands. She was sure that if he didn't think she might fall over he would pull away completely.

She backed away to her chair, letting her fingers pull from Bog's hands, just their fingertips touching, then the contact broken. She sat down. “Tell me.”

“Before . . . the king before me,” Bog remained kneeling on the floor, like a petitioner before a ruler's throne, “Argos. He took things. Anything he wanted. He wanted the throne and its power so he took it, but he did not give anything back. He did not give up his name and he did not give his time and power in service of his subjects. He was fat with it. No matter if the the year had been fat or thin he demanded everything he wanted and paid no heed to how his subjects starved and froze in the winter.”

This was not how Bog had meant to start. The story he wanted to confess seemed to have begun earlier than he thought it had. He hoped that Marianne would be lenient and give patience to his wandering thoughts.

“My father's people were hunted by Argos. He came and killed the last of them, save me. I was angry. He had taken what was mine. Nearly everything I had. He was taking everything from all of us. I gathered those like me . . . we fought . . . I killed Argos and took his throne. I took it . . . and when I was still a very young, angry . . . frightened king . . . I fell in love.”

So young. Still able to delude himself into thinking his actions and intentions were noble. That there was an excuse for what he did and had done. He had thought the worst was behind him and there was something left inside him worth salvaging. But he had known.

“I didn't think she could love me . . . I knew she couldn't.”

Marianne stirred in her seat. Bog hurried on before she could speak.

“I went to Plum for the love potion. To use on the one I fell in love with. Like everything else, I tried to take it. Her love. To take her choice. I would have . . . I nearly . . . everything. I would have taken everything from her if the potion at worked.”

“It didn't . . .?”

Bog shook his head. Pink, the pink of primroses, sparkling like the morning sun off dewdrops. His breath held in anticipation of the world finally coming right and the happiness he would gain.

“She was so afraid. I was the king. She trusted me, believed I was better than Argos. I don't think that there was anything inside me for the love potion to take a hold of. The magic knew what I was and that I was too hideous to be loved.”

A tear dotted the floor. Bog didn't know when the tears and started. He couldn't stop them. He crouched there on the floor, hoping that his head was bent low enough to keep Marianne from seeing them. He thought he had accepted these things and they wouldn’t hurt so much anymore.

“They praised me for killing Argos. They said I had saved them. That what I did was good. But it wasn't. Because I did it so I could take his power. Because I'm just like him. That's why you can't . . . you can't love me. There's nothing in me to love.”

The soft drapery of Marianne's gown whispered across the chair. Her feet came into his line of vision. He curled himself tighter, waiting for the blow, whether it was hot anger or cold disgust.

“Killing Argos to save your people . . .”

Bog flinched. He hadn't expected her to speak so softly. He hadn't expected her to begin to excuse his actions like all the others did. Tell him that he did what had to be done. There was no other choice. It was necessary.

“It must have been so hard.”

Bog gasped. The words attacked him from an undefended side and stabbed into his chest. He tried to speak. He choked on his tears instead.

“You didn't deserve that.” Marianne said.

“They cheered!” Bog burst out through his tears, dragging up every last shred of horror he could find so Marianne could see it, “They saw Argos's body and they all cheered! There were so many dead on both sides of the war . . . that was the only time they celebrated it. I only did it because of what he did to my father's people. For the people dying in the snow. I was just angry. I locked Plum away to keep her from telling everyone about the love potion and what I had tried to do. That was celebrated too. I haven't done a single deed worth praise. What I did I did for myself and no one else.”

The swirl of Marianne's skirt was a white frill on the floor when she knelt down in front of Bog. If she hadn't her knees might have given out and brought her down anyway. Bog was in so much pain from his confession and so convinced that he was as foul as his predecessor to the throne that Marianne thought her heart might break. It was all wrong, his view of himself. The winter stay in his kingdom had only shown Marianne that Bog was a generous and caring king. An exceptional ruler, seeing the forest through such difficult times. That Bog hadn't the slightest inkling of the truth was unfair and wrong.

She leaned toward him and cupped his face in her hands, tilting his head to so he had to look at her. He didn't resist, but his eyes slid away and refused to meet hers. Marianne leaned forward to make it harder for him to avoid her when she asked her question.

“Bog,” she said, “do you think that Argos could make soup?”

Bog was thrown so badly by the question that he met her eye. “I don't . . . no?”

“I don't think so either. I doubt there was a single person in the whole forest he cared enough about to bother himself over if they were sick or hurt. Then you, the evil Bog King, spend an afternoon fussing in the kitchen for the sake of a fairy that's done nothing but annoy you.”

“You don't--”

Marianne refused to let Bog object to anything she was saying. He tried to speak when she stopped to take a breath, but she wouldn't let him get more than a word or two out. She spoke on, as relentlessly as she would have attacked with a sword.

“Do you think Argos cared if what he did was good or bad? Do you think he spent one sleepless night tearing himself up over the wrongs he'd committed? I doubt it.”

“The love potion . . .” Bog whispered.

“You let her go, didn't you?”

“What else . . . could I have done?”

That answer just about melted Marianne's heart. It said so much about Bog that he didn't recognize his own decency. “A lot of things. A lot of terrible things. The terrible thing you did do, you regret with all your heart. I'm not meaning to say that it makes everything right, but it does mean you're not a monster. Who you were then, I didn't know him. I only know you as you are now and this Bog would never use a love potion. I know it.”

“I--”

“Right now, Bog, in this castle—your castle—everyone is safe, cared for, and happy. Because you became king no one is dying in the snow.”

Marianne had meant that to be just the opening strike in a new line of attack but Bog crumpled when her words hit him and his crying became uncontrollable. Abandoning her attack, she threw her arms around his neck and held him tight to steady his shaking. “To be a part of your kingdom—to be your wife—I'm honored.”

It was only because Bog was running out of strength that his tears slowed and his emotions settled. Like bleeding out on the battlefield and beginning to feel peaceful as the end neared. Except that it wasn't ending like Bog had believed it would. Marianne was embracing him. He had shown her the truth and she was embracing him.

“I don't understand.” he said.

Marianne's breath brushed across his shoulder when she answered.“What's there to understand? I'm your wife, I love you, and I'm staying. That is, once you properly ask me to.”

“I can't—”

She shoved him away and pressed a finger to his lips. “Ask me.”

The chains he expected to pull him up short were no longer there. Nothing stopped him from taking Marianne's hand and bending over it. His dark fingers and her winter-paled hands. He didn't understand. He turned her hand over and kissed her marriage scar.

“Please. Stay with me, Marianne.”

“I will.” she said.

#strange magic #spread the lofe #butterfly bog #potionless #kidnapping au #strange magic kidnapping au #those chains that bind you #fiery warrior princess #the bog king #chapter #multichapter fic #my fanfic

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theoriginalsfan124 · 6 years ago

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Between The Storms End And The Dragons Breath

Chapter Four

Chapter summary: Two weeks have past and Caroline still feels foreign in Athedon. She can’t imagine herself staying here for the rest of her life. The king, her future husband, is nothing as she imagined, he hasn’t spoken a single word to her since their chat in the counsil room. She’s determined to give him a piece of her mind, as gently as possible of course. The young lady is marching towards his office, but she’s in for a big surprise when she opens the door.

________________________________________________________________

Two weeks have passed since Caroline has stepped foot in Athedon, yet this place still felt so foreign. She couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that she will stay here for the rest of her life. Sure Asofall was a beautiful castle and Athedon was a marvelous city, still it did not match the beauty that Drogon, and its castle Blackfire, held. No foreign city could match her home. But yet she was stuck here as the bride of the king, who was nothing like she expected. Of course she expected him to be a little cold or distant, however he was more than that. He hasn’t spoken a word to her since their little chat in the council room, not even a good morning. His stare was cold as icy, his words could cut deeper than a sword, but he mostly kept to himself. The king was truly a quiet man, but Caroline knew that silent storms were the deadliest. She tried to get his attention, like Marianne thought her: the young lady bowed lower, her dresses clung to her body better, and her smile was bright, yet he did not seem to care. Although he would spare a glance at her from time to time, after all the handmaidens explained she was a extraordinary beauty both to the Southern Lands and to Ilandol. Carolines eyes were a shade of red with a tint of gold - a gene the Callas women tended to have - since she was a little girl people have compared them to fire. Her hair thought told a different story: it was as white as snow and people said it was touched by ice. Her pearly white teeth portrayed a gorgeous smile, although it did not always reach her eyes, but many foolish men did not see it, even her own father.

“My lady,” Nora, a handmaiden assigned to her by the king, walked into her room.

Caroline sat up from the bed, her hair still messy and her mouth dry. It was early morning and quite beautiful one: the sun was out behind the clouds, the birds sang their morning song and chatter could be heard outside the castle. Her temporary bedchambers were directed towards Asofalls garden, a lot of ladies spent their time there knitting, sawing or just chatting around. The castle was inhabited by a few lords and ladies, almost all the lords were part of the kings council. Caroline did go to the garden, however no lady approached her or talked to her, most of them looked towards her with hate and envy. She was indeed gorgeous and marrying the king, that they were jealous of, but she was still a foreigner to them and for that reason they disliked her.

“It’s time to get up.” The handmaiden smiles gently.

The future queen groaned and got out from bed, gently walking towards the mirror. She sat on the chair next to it and relaxed. Nora hurried next to the lady, took a hairbrush and started combing her long white hair.

“My lady, what hairstyle will you request today?” She formally asked.

“Pull the front bits from my face and the rest leave it loose.”

The servant gently and carefully brushed Caroline’s hair and did as she was told.

“Nora, will the king accompany me to breakfast?”

“No, my lady.”

“Why?”

“He has business to attend to”

She rolled her eyes; of course he had business to attend to. This was always his excuse not to dine with her. The young lady knew he wasn’t thrilled to marry her, neither was she, but he could have at least pretend to be nice. After a few minutes Nora was done with her hair. Caroline thanked her and got up from her chair to put on her dress instead of the nightgown she was still wearing.

“My lady, do you need any help?”

She only nodded her head. The servant girl took the dress gently in her hands, it was darker than wine, but richer than blood with a modest neckline, the upper part was accompanied with a tulle material, also on the upper part was decorated with sawed in dragons of the same color. Nora held the gorgeous dress for Caroline to step in, once she did the servant pulled it up and zipped it up. The future queen fixed her hair and was all set for the day.

“Thank you, Nora. You may go.” She excused her.

The Callas took a deep breath and stepped outside her room ready for another day in Asofall. She had breakfast with her cousin and her husband along with her own father. No words were spoken, she still was mad at her father for selling her off so quickly. After breakfast she took a leave to the castles library to pick out a book to read. Throughout all the time she was here, she has exactly read 10 books. How else could she spend her time with no friends and no one to talk to.

The library was empty as always, not a lot of people read books for fun, they were always busy, always in a hurry. She brushed her fingertips on the old dusty bookshelves. Since she was a little girl, she had always loved the smell and sense of books, their old hard leather covers and the information they held. Her mother died when she was still in a crib and she had no sibling, her father was always busy. Marianne had always had different tastes than her, in boys and in activities, she loved to play with dolls and for some reason Caroline didn’t, she preferred to read. Maybe that is why books became her best friends.

“Stormlands...” she read the name outloud.

The leather cover was dusty, but she could still make out the amblema - a thunderbird with its wings spread. She took the book out of the shelf, it was pretty heavy. She quickly carried it to the nearby table, she gently opened the first page.

“The Stormlands, seat of House Aijima.... wait isn’t Noel from house Aijima?”

Now she was curious. She did not know much of Illandols noble houses and this book seems to be of one of them, even better it’s about her fiancés house. Caroline took the heavy book in her arms dusted it off a bit before leaving for the garden. It was a beautiful day and she wasn’t about to sit cooped up inside the castle. She stepped outside, her walk was fast as she was eager to begin to read the book. Caroline ignored all the stares she was getting as it was usual by now and set residence and her now regular place - one of the terraces in the back of the garden. She set her book down on the small round table and sat on the chair. Eagerly but carefully the young lady opened the book as she dived inside the letters and sentences it held. Her peace did not last for long as she was interrupted by two guards taking residence beside her resting place.

“May I help you sirs?” She asked.

“We are here on the kings orders, my lady.” The taller one answered.

“And why did the king send you?”

“To watch over you, for your safety, my lady”

“For my safety? He did not seem to care about that at all in these past two weeks, what changed?”

“We are doings orders, my lady.”

She sat there for a moment. The rage bubbling up inside her. She slapped her book shut and stood up abruptly.

“That son of a-“

The guards looked at her waiting for her to finish her sentence.

“That son of a beautiful lady probably.” She caught herself.

She was determined now. She marched towards the castle and then towards his private office. She wasn’t about to let him take the freedom she had left now. Now the lady did not care about anything anymore, all she wanted is to give a piece of her mind to him, of course as gently as she could. She hurried up the steps, the two guards following behind. She knocked on the oak door leading to his office. No answer. She knocked again, but this time harder.

“Is he bloody ignoring me?” She angrily muttered.

She knocked again, this time even harder and more angry. And again no answer.

“Mother Earth please give me strength not to set this son of a- this king on bloody fire” Caroline prayed to the Goddess, the southerners believed in.

“My lady,” Nora, her handmaiden, came to the scene.

Caroline did not answer her and continued knocking on the office door.

“My lady,” Nora repeated again.

The Callas kept knocking angrier every time.

“My lady-“

“What?!” She yelled out.

“His highness is not in his office.”

“You have to be kidding me...” she mentally slapped herself. “Where is he then?”

“His bedchambers...” Nora looked down.

“Okay... I am sorry for yelling and lashing out on you Nora.” She apologized before turning on her heels and marching towards Noels private chambers.

The guards followed her all the way towards his bedroom.

“Wait here.” She ordered.

“My la-“

“That’s an order.”

This time she didn’t knock and busted in his room. She was ready to give him a moral, but she was met with a surprise. There was a woman with chocolate brown hair laying in the kings bed, naked. The king himself was besides the table pouring himself a glass of whiskey, the first few buttons on his white shirt opened.

“Mother Earth give me strength...” she managed to mutter out as her mouth went dry.

The king and the unknown woman in his bed turned to look at the one who interrupted them. The kings eyes went wide for a second before he regained control. He turned to the woman.

“Leave us Tatiana, Lady Caroline and I have something we need to discuss.”

The woman, now known as Tatiana, picked up her clothes and hurried out of the room, not before winking and smiling to the king.

“Explain. Now.” Caroline said though gritted teeth as the door shut closed.

“Sit down.” He loosely gestured to the canapé.

“If you think I’ll sit on any or the furniture you and that woman touched, you’re mistaken.”

“Fine, stand if that’s what you want.”

Noel took a sip from his glass and rested one of his hands on the wall.

“That was Tatiana.”

“So I heard.”

“She’s my- how should I explain this....Mistress?” He calmly said.

“I have never wanted to rip someone’s head off as much as I do now.”

“I don’t really care to be honest. This-“ he pointed to the both of them. “-is just a counter measure to insure the South won’t rebel.”

“So that gives you the right to be unfaithful?”

“We’re not married yet.”

“That’s no excuse.”

“Tatiana and I have been together since I became king”

“Still no excuse.”

“ You see, unlike you, Tatiana matters to me.” He said harshly.

“May Father Sky forgive you for such unforgiving words.”

“I don’t believe in whatever you believe. If you did not know Illandol follows The Faith Of The One.”

“I don’t care.”

“Neither do I.”

“Kul huk sintakla lonman (You truly are a man without honor)” She told him in Hulan, the language of the first men.

“Guk tir kul huklam kilka dragok (careful with your words little dragon)” he replied in fluent Hulan.

She was shocked at first. Not many people knew the Hulan language anymore, she learned it because it was tradition to in the Callas family, but not even many Southerners knew it, let alone a man from Illandol.

“Car got your tongue?” He teased drowning the rest of his glass.

“Go to hell.”

“Make me.”

She didn’t have anything else to say. If she did not know better she would have slapped the king in the face right this moment. He had a mistress, he was unfaithful even before their marriage. Salty tears formed in her eyes, she gave him one last harsh look before sharply standing up and opening the door.

“You can take back your guard dogs. I don’t need them.”

She slammed the door shut and hurried to her room. This marriage was going to be worse than expected after all.

_______________________________________________________________

@lunastarward

#between the storms end and the dragons breath #Caroline Callas #noel aijima #medieval #romance #fantasy world #inspired by got reign lotr and heroes of might and magic #Illandol #angst #drama #queen #king #war

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mariannerethwisch · 3 years ago

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In the Eyes of the Beholder

Have you ever thought of the little creatures we step on every time we go out for a walk? Once in a while, I do. And so, last week as contemplated their fate, this devotional came to be. I have titled it….

“In the Eyes of the Beholder”

How are we perceived by the creatures all around?

To the birds in the sky, we are harmless. They say, “They are big beasts, but they don’t bother us, and we don’t bother them. We fly with our wings outstretched high in the sky, way above their heads. The higher we fly, the smaller they seem. Occasionally one of us will be hit by one of their bullets. But mostly we are free to fly around as we wish.”

To the fish in the sea, we are deceptive. They say, “They are huge. We have to hide from them because they love to have us for dinner. It is a good thing that our surroundings are deep, dark, and full of crevices to help us keep away from their hungry eyes. But you have to watch out, because before you know it you may be caught in one of their wide nets. And when they have you, they will not let go of you. If you see something shining in front of you or a thin slimy thing dangling from a pole, turn and swim the other way. They are there to lure you to take a bite and then it is all over.”

To all the creeping things that creeps on the ground we are stupid giants. They say, “They don’t watch where they are going. For every step they take, some of us get killed. They should be more careful, knowing that we are so much smaller than they are!”

But they just don’t know that God created these “giants” into his own image (Gen 1:27) and gave them the task to rule over every living thing on the earth. When he had created them, “God blessed them. And God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth.”” (Gen 1:28)

The Psalmist says,

“…you have made him a little lower than the heavenly beings

and crowned him with glory and honor.” (Ps 8:5)

The creatures don’t realize that their Creator had a very close relationship with those they consider giants. He called them man and woman.

The problem was the “giants” rejected their Creator and brought sin into the world. They repeated their offenses over and over again, causing the Creator-God to destroy most of them in a big flood (Gen 6:11-8:20).

The creatures don’t realize that their forefathers and the “giants” share a common experience. All except the sea creatures were placed in a big boat that one of the giants built and together with his family they were saved from the flood.

Here stops the allegory.

Isn’t it amazing that out of all His creation God took a special interest in us?

He made us with intelligence.

He made us with the ability to read and retain the information we receive.

He made us with a brain that is able to process and categorize information that we hear.

He made us in a way that we could be aware of and receptive to his message of salvation.

But this message of the Gospel needed to reach others.

So … he made us with the ability to speak.

He made us able to formulate our thoughts into sentences and to make ourselves understood.

Why did God even care to do this?

He did it for his glory and for his pleasure and for the love of all mankind.

He did it so that we might know Him, the Holy One.

He did it so that we would know his love for us.

He did it to restore the wall that separated us from Him because of our sin.

He did it that we might receive his grace and mercy through the death and resurrection of his one and only Son.

He did it so that we might have Eternal Life through his Son.

And … that we one day might worship him forever.

… And this will be our worship:

Great and amazing are your deeds,

O Lord God the Almighty!

Just and true are your ways,

O King of the nations!

4Who will not fear, O Lord,

and glorify your name?

For you alone are holy.

All nations will come

and worship you,

for your righteous acts have been revealed.” (Rev. 15:3b-4)

When we leave God out, we are more concerned about how everyone else perceives us, including all the animals. And we try to rectify it. (Marianne Rethwisch)

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isolationshepherd-blog · 7 years ago

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CHAPTER TWENTY – AN ENDING

Bamburgh Castle, Northumberland

Abby stood with her ear to the door, listening for the sounds of Marianne’s footsteps. The girl was due any moment, bringing Thomas for his morning feed, and Abby was ready. Her heart was racing, her hands cold and clammy, for this was the moment she had been waiting for, when she put her escape plan into action. Marianne had been true to her word yesterday and had given Abby a long and detailed description of the castle and the grounds while Abby fed Thomas and tried to look only casually interested in the girl’s words. It had taken Abby half the night to formulate the plan, work out all its advantages, find all the flaws and weaknesses that would lead to failure. There were many, and she hadn’t fully solved them all, but there was no time. Marcus could not be far away, and she had to get to the village, find a place to hide where she could see his approach and stop him before it was too late.

Abby didn’t need to have her ear to the door to hear Thomas crying, the sound was getting louder as Marianne walked up the stairs with him, stopping outside the door to Abby’s chamber. Abby put her hand on the door, and Thomas quietened, as if he could sense her, or was anticipating what was waiting for him on the other side. Marianne slipped the key in the lock and turned it, and the door pushed open towards Abby, who moved with it, so that she was behind it, and invisible to Marianne. The girl came into the room, looking around, a puzzled look on her face when she realised the room was empty. When she had walked far enough away from the door, Abby shut it and leant against it. Marianne turned, surprised.

“Mistress! I was wondering where you were.”

“Give me the key, Marianne.”

Marianne frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

“Give me the key to the door. Please.”

The girl shook her head, confusion all over her face. “I can’t, Mistress. You know I can’t.”

Abby took her hand from behind her back, revealing the weapon she had spent the other half of the night searching for. It was a metal bar she had found in the bottom of a tapestry, used to weight it down. It wasn’t sharp, but it was long and narrow, and she could do some damage with it if she put enough force behind it. She had no intention of doing so, hoping that the threat would be enough. Marianne gasped when she saw it.

“Put Thomas down on the bed,” said Abby.

The girl laid the baby on the bed, wrapping his blanket around him so tenderly Abby felt a stab of guilt. He was whimpering again, soft cries that would change to loud wails if he didn’t get his milk soon. Her hand wavered as she held the weapon aloft, but she forced herself to stay calm, to follow the plan.

“Now hand me the key.”

Marianne came forward, stopping an arm’s length from Abby, eyeing the weapon fearfully. She reached in her pocket and held out the key, which Abby took.

“Go and stand at the back of the room.” She waited until Marianne had complied then turned quickly and locked the door, putting the key into her pouch. She crossed then to Thomas, picking him up and retreating to the door with him. It was awkward trying to position him and hold the weapon at the same time so she leant the bar against the door while she nestled him in one arm and gave him her breast to suckle from. She picked the weapon up again and stood against the door, baby in one arm, metal bar in the other. If ever there was a more ridiculous sight she didn’t know what it was, but she had to feed Thomas before they went anywhere otherwise his cries would alert the whole castle.

“I’m sorry to have to do this to you, Marianne. I tried to think of a better way but there wasn’t one.”

“Why are you doing it, Mistress? I don’t understand.”

“It’s a long story, but the Master isn’t a nice person. He has done some terrible things, hurt people, killed people. He kidnapped me and Thomas from our home, took us away from Thomas’s father, and now he’s holding me here and he’s never going to let me go. He means to kill Thomas’s father and then me, and take the baby for himself.”

Marianne was open-mouthed. “Why?”

“Because he’s always wanted a son, and this is his chance, but Thomas is not his, and I can’t let him grow up with a man like that. If you don’t believe me, I can show you the scars from the beatings I’ve taken.”

“I didn’t think the baby was his; he has none of his looks or his colouring.”

“I told you, he takes after his father, and he’s on his way here now to rescue us, but it is a trap, Marianne. I have to escape so I can find him and stop him.”

“Well what are you going to do? The castle is well-guarded; you will not get out.”

“Remember that unused gate you told me about yesterday? The Battery Gate, and the key that is in the Commander’s office of this tower?”

“Oh.” A look of shame coloured Marianne’s face as she realised that her carefree gossip of the day before had given Abby all the information she needed to escape the castle. Abby felt ashamed as well, and sorry for the girl.

“I’m sorry for tricking you, but I had to find out as much as I could. I’m going to get the key from the Commander’s office and Thomas and I will escape through the gate.”

“Mistress, how are you going to do this with a baby in your arms? It is impossible.”

“It is not impossible. I need to be careful that is all.”

Marianne perched on the edge of the bed. She was quiet, a thoughtful look on her face. After a moment, she spoke. “I will get the key for you.”

Abby’s heart swelled at her words. She seemed so sincere, wishing to be helpful, but Abby had been fooled before.

“No, I’m sorry, but I can’t trust you. I want to, but I have been betrayed in the past.”

“Then let me come with you. I can hold Thomas while you search, or you can hold him while I do.”

Thomas had stopped suckling and Abby looked down at him; his eyes were closing and he was falling asleep. She tucked her breast back into her bodice and held Thomas against her shoulder, contemplating the girl’s suggestion as she did so.

“Why would you help me? You don’t know me.”

“No, but it isn’t right, what is happening. The child should be with you all the time. I have to ask myself why the Master is preventing that, and I don’t know if what you say is true, but no one should treat a baby this way.”

Abby shook her head. “No, it is too dangerous. What if we are caught? I will not risk your life as well as my own.”

“The Master is not the Lord here, he is a guest. He can’t do anything to me. No, it is settled. I will help you get to the gate.”

Abby felt relief mixed with wariness. Someone to help with Thomas would make the plan easier, speed things up, but she had only known this girl two days, and even though her instincts told her she could be trusted, it was better to be cautious.

“Very well. Then we need to go now, while Thomas is asleep. Did you see anyone in the Commander’s office as you passed?”

“No, but I did not look in properly.”

“Then we shall just have to take a chance. Help me make the blanket into a sling.”

Marianne folded the blanket and they put Thomas in it, before wrapping it around Abby’s back and shoulder. Abby checked that he could breathe; his head was resting against her breast and he was snoring. She smiled at him. “Won’t be long now, darling,” she whispered.

---

While Abby and Marianne were searching in the Commander’s office for the key to the Battery Gate, Kane and Sinclair were on the opposite side of the castle, crouched by the wall of the Keep, having used a grapple and line to scale the high outer wall of the castle complex. Sinclair had made discrete enquiries in the village, and had been told the rumours of the mad woman being held in the Keep. That had to be the tale Alasdair had put out to explain their presence. The grounds of the castle were empty, and everything was quiet. Too quiet for Kane’s liking, but he had no idea how the castle was normally run, how many people lived here, whether the family was at home or not. When Alasdair had been away from Duns House, Kane had been able to get in to see Abby with ease, there were so few guards on duty. Perhaps it was the same here.

“Do ye want the rope now?” asked Sinclair.

“Aye. Pass it here. We’ll search the Keep together. Anyone we find we overpower and tie up.”

Sinclair nodded, and passed the rope to Kane who cut it into lengths with his knife. “I’ll do the overpowering, you do the tying. Ye’re still in pain.”

“I can fight through the pain, but it might be better if ye take the lead, just in case.”

“I never thought I’d live tae see the day,” said Sinclair with a laugh.

“What do ye mean?”

“Marcus Kane, listening to reason.”

Kane pulled an amused face at Sinclair. “Mark the day.”

“I will. Are ye ready?”

Kane nodded, and followed Sinclair into the Keep. They crept up the stairs, looking into every room as they had last night at the house in Yorkshire. As before, the rooms were empty. Where the hell was everyone? It was eerily quiet, and Kane’s nerves were on edge. They reached the top floor, and Kane tensed as he put his hand on the door handle and turned it. He was expecting it to be locked if indeed Abby and Thomas were being held here, but it turned easily and disappointment washed over him before he even stepped into the room and confirmed what his heart already knew; it was empty. It was a large room, and he started to search it for signs they had been there. Sinclair entered the room and stood next to Kane, hands on hips, looking annoyed.

“She’s not here, Sinclair. There’s no sign she’s ever been here.”

“Dammit! My source was so certain. I’m sorry, Kane. I really thought he was trustworthy.”

“You can’t trust anyone, have you not learned that yet?” A familiar voice spoke from behind them, and Kane’s heart seemed to drop into his stomach. He looked at Sinclair, seeing his own shock and despair reflected in his friend’s face. Together they turned to face Alasdair Griffin.

The man was standing just inside the doorway, a smug look on his face. He was flanked by two guards, and Kane could see others out in the hallway.

“Yes, that’s right, you are surrounded” said Alasdair. “There’s no escape this time.”

“Ye knew we would come here?” Kane wasn’t all that surprised. He should have realised when he found out they were only across the border from Scotland that it was a trap, but he’d been so hell bent on getting to Abby he hadn’t bothered to wonder why they weren’t in France or London.

“I’ve known everything you’ve done since you got out of the gaol, since you took my wife away from me in fact.”

Kane turned to look at Sinclair. Had the man betrayed him after all? Sinclair shook his head at Kane’s unasked question. “It wasn’t me.”

“No,” said Alasdair. “Sinclair’s betrayal of me was a shock I will admit. I knew someone on the inside was tipping you off about me, but I didn’t know who, so I had all my top people followed, and imagine my surprise to find out Sinclair’s trips away on my business were in fact visits to you and my whore of a wife.”

“Don’t talk about Abby like that,” muttered Kane.

“Abby!” Alasdair spat the name out. “You really must have something special between your legs to have turned her so completely. From Lady to peasant in a single year!” He laughed. “Are you proud of what you’ve done?”

“Are thee? My conscience is clear. I doubt ye can say the same.”

Alasdair shifted his weight from leg to leg, glanced at his guards.

“What’s the matter?” asked Kane. “Are ye worried someone will find out there’s more than one Kane in this room? Ye do know the Bible story, I presume?”

“You’re not as clever as you think you are. You’re trying to make me tell the guards to leave so you can overpower me like you did last time, but I’ve been ten steps ahead of you, and I’m ahead of you now.”

“What do you mean?” asked Sinclair.

“Did you enjoy your trip to Yorkshire? A fine county, I have lots of friends there. It was most pleasant catching up with them again. You must be tired, though, riding all the way there, and then all the way here. Have you slept at all? Are you hungry, thirsty, in pain?”

Kane grimaced. The extent of how well Alasdair had played them was clear. They had been pawns in his game all along. He was right, they were tired, and weak, prone to bad judgement, making mistakes. They were how he wanted them, and the question now was what did he have planned next, and more urgently, what had he done to Abby? He had to know.

“Where is Abby? What have you done to her, and Thomas?”

“William, is none of your concern. As for Abigail, well, you can see for yourself shortly. I have done nothing to her, yet. I was waiting for you. My only dilemma now, is whether to kill her first, and make you watch, or the other way around.”

Kane lunged towards Alasdair, pulling his ballack knife out of its holster as he moved. Sinclair tried to grab him to hold him back, and at the same time the guards ran forward, and Kane got caught between them, Sinclair pulling him one way, the guards the other. His knife dropped from his hand, clattering onto the floor. Alasdair stood back, arms folded, and laughed.

“Let’s take a trip shall we, to see your lover. She’s been waiting for you.”

He nodded to the guards who were waiting outside the door and they entered the room, surrounding Kane and Sinclair, hustling them out of the door and down the stairs as they followed Alasdair across the courtyard. They entered another stone building that straddled the route into the castle, and went up two flights of stairs, pausing outside a large wooden door. Alasdair put a key in the lock, and turned it. Kane’s heart leapt, despite the circumstances. He was going to see Abby at last.

Alasdair opened the door and stepped inside. The guards followed, pushing Kane and Sinclair along too. They all came to a jumbled stop when Alasdair did, and Kane could see immediately what had caused him to stop so suddenly. The room was empty! Abby was not there. Confused thoughts raced around Kane’s head. What had happened to Abby? Where was she?

Alasdair turned, his face red with fury. “Go and fetch my son!” He shouted, and one of the guards ran from the room.

Kane wanted to say something; a gloat was resting on his lips, just waiting to be given voice, but he kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t sure what was happening; but the last thing he wanted was to jeopardise Abby’s safety because he couldn’t resist a dig at this disgusting ex-husband of hers. It seemed an age before the guard returned, his face white.

“The baby is gone, my Lord.”

“What do you mean, he’s gone?” Alasdair turned the shade of a beetroot, his face red, the veins standing out an angry purple.

“He is not in his room, he is nowhere to be found.”

Alasdair stood with his hands clenched into fists, glaring at the guard who had brought the news. Kane could hardly contain his joy as the realisation hit him. Abby had escaped with Thomas! Oh, what a beautiful, courageous, clever woman she was! Whatever happened to him now he did not care about. She was free, and hopefully safely hidden somewhere. He looked at Sinclair and smiled. Sinclair smiled back. Alasdair was not smiling; he was muttering to himself, pacing the room. Kane watched him as he walked towards the window, saw as he quickened his pace, pressed his hands to the glass, then his face, looking intently outside. His expression changed from one of anger, to surprise, and then determination. Kane felt a cold chill settle in his veins. What had Alasdair seen? Alasdair turned and pushed Kane out of the way, splitting the group of men crowded into the room in two as he made his way out of the door. Kane ran over to the window and looked out. Two women were stumbling across the moor towards the sea. Kane didn’t have to look long to know one of them was Abby; her long braid and blue dress were unmistakeable.

“It’s Abby,” he shouted to Sinclair, and then he followed Alasdair, dodging the guards who were too startled to move quickly enough to stop him. He ran down the stairs and out onto the road. Alasdair was a few yards ahead, shouting to the guards at the Gatehouse to open the gate. It opened slowly, and Alasdair squeezed through as soon as there was a gap big enough for his overfed body. Kane was close behind him but one of the guards stepped in front of him as he tried to pass through the gate. The other guard ran behind to apprehend Sinclair. Kane tussled with the guard, taking a couple of hits to the face before managing to punch him in the stomach, winding him enough that he was able to get free. He left Sinclair to fend for himself and ran out onto the moors. His hip was screaming with pain and he was limping more than running as he forced himself across the uneven ground.

He looked ahead. The two women had come to a halt. Abby had some kind of sling around her, presumably containing Thomas, and she was clutching it tightly to her breast. Alasdair was standing close to her. He was shouting, his words coming to Kane on the breeze, along with Thomas’s cries.

“Give me my son, Abigail.”

“I will never give him to you.”

Alasdair moved closer to her and Abby stepped back. The other woman, who Kane could now see was a young girl, stood in front of Abby and Alasdair knocked her down, like she was nothing; he just pulled his arm back like he was tensing the string on a bow, and then released it full into the side of her head. Kane let out a strangled cry he was so shocked. Abby dropped to her knees beside the stricken girl, one arm holding Thomas, the other hand stroking her face. Kane could hear her speaking the girls’ name over and over again.

“Abby!” Kane screamed her name and Abby looked up, her face contorted into grief, and fear.

“Marcus? Oh, Marcus!” She was trying to get up when Alasdair grabbed her arm, dragging her to her feet, pulling her away from the approaching Kane. He put his arm around her neck, and Kane was shocked to see an object glinting in the sun; it was Alasdair’s ballack knife, and he was pressing it to Abby’s throat.

“No!”

“Stay back, Kane.”

Kane ignored him, moved closer so that he was no more than a sword’s length away.

“I mean it. Come any closer and I’ll slit her throat.” Alasdair pressed harder, drawing a drop of blood like Kane had done to him so many months ago.

Kane held his hands up. “Alright. I will not come closer. Let Abigail go.”

“I let her go once, and I’m not doing that again.” He stepped back, and Kane’s heart leapt into his mouth. They were at the edge of a cliff; a couple more steps and they would plunge down into the sea.

“What do you want, Alasdair? What do you hope to achieve by this?” Abby’s voice was low and calm as she spoke. She was rocking Thomas in her arms, trying to quiet him.

Kane stayed silent, thinking about his best move while Abby tried to soothe Alasdair and Thomas, bring the tension down.

“What I’ve always wanted, my son.”

“Let us go back to the castle and talk about it. We can’t talk out here.”

“There is nothing to talk about. You are going to give me William and then I’m going to have you both arrested and hanged.” Alasdair took another step backwards and Kane cried out.

“Ye’re going to kill yerself and the bairn if you go any further!”

Alasdair turned to look behind him and Abby seized her moment, elbowing him in the ribs, slipping out from beneath his grasp as he cried out with shock and pain. Kane ran forward and grabbed her, pulling her as far away from Alasdair as he could. He held her to him, Thomas squashed between them, crying.

“Marcus, Marcus!” Abby was crying as well, but Kane didn’t have time to comfort her because Alasdair was lunging towards them, knife in hand. Kane spun Abby and Thomas around to shield them and felt a sharp pain as the knife plunged into his back, between his shoulder blades. Time slowed. He could hear Abby shouting, Thomas crying, Alasdair screaming obscenities, but it was like they were far away. He saw Sinclair rush towards the scene, take Abby and Thomas into his arms. He felt another pain as the knife was pulled out of his back, and he turned as Alasdair raised it again. Kane put his head down and barrelled it into Alasdair’s stomach, pushing him backwards. Afterwards, he wouldn’t know where he got the strength from, but in the moment it was as though he had the strength of all the elements at once, the wind behind him, the earth giving him grip beneath his feet, and the sea urging him on, roaring his name. Alasdair stumbled backwards and Kane got both hands on him, pushing him away from Abby, from Thomas, from everything he had done, all the hurt he had caused. Alasdair still had the knife and he stabbed it at Kane again, catching him in the arm, but Kane didn’t notice any pain, so intent was he on getting the man as far away from his family as he could. Then the earth betrayed him, giving way beneath his feet, and he was weightless. His stomach lurched, his breath stuck in his throat. He reached out, clawing at the earth as it slipped away, carrying him with it. His fingers closed around something prickly, a small juniper bush clinging stubbornly to the cliff face. It broke his fall, and his body jerked to a stop, the bush bending under his weight, but holding. Kane’s foot found purchase on a small stone in the cliff wall and he hung there, flat against the wall, trying to get his breath back.

“Kane! Hold out yer hand.”

He looked up to see Sinclair lying over the jagged edge of the cliff, stretching his hand down towards Kane. Kane reached up, and grasped Sinclair’s hand, and then another face appeared over the edge, and a smaller hand reached down towards him. It was Abby. Kane smiled, and let them drag him up the cliff and onto the grass, where he lay gasping, and let Abby pepper his face with kisses.

“Oh, I thought I had lost you,” she said between kisses.

“It will take more than that to get rid of me.” Kane laughed, and then groaned. His whole body was on fire with pain.

“Let me look at you.” Abby turned him over so he was lying on his stomach, and lifted his shirt up.

“Is it bad?” He could feel her warm breath on his back as she bent to look at him, her fingers probing the wound.

“It is clean, in and out.”

“Where is Thomas, Abby? Is he safe?”

“He’s here. He’s fine.” Kane turned his head to the side. Sinclair had Thomas in his arms, and the bairn had stopped crying, was gurgling happily.

“Put him next to me.”

Sinclair laid Thomas on the grass next to Kane’s head and Kane reached out with his good arm and stroked the boy’s hair. He had grown since he had last seen him, but he hadn’t changed as much as Kane had feared.

“I’m going to need your shirt, Sinclair,” said Abby, and Kane heard her tear it into strips before she slipped them under him and wrapped them round the wound in his back, before doing the same with his arm.

“You can sit up now, gently.”

Kane eased himself into a sitting position, and Abby put Thomas in his arms before settling down next to him. He hugged the boy tight to him, kissed his head.

“I’ve missed thee so much, and yer mama.” Abby put her arms around him and kissed his lips.

“We have missed you, so very much.”

Kane looked around then. There were a lot of people on the moor, guards and villagers, most of them standing watching, some of them looking over the edge of the cliff.

Kane looked at Abby. “Alasdair?”

She shook her head. “He is dead. The sea has taken him.”

Relief washed over Kane. “It is over.”

Abby nodded, pressed her forehead to his. “I love you.”

“I love thee.” Another memory came back to Kane, of a sight that he didn’t think he would ever be able to wash from his mind. “Abby, the girl…”

Abby wiped tears from her eyes. “They have taken her to the village medic. I don’t know if she will live.” She cried again, and Kane held her tight.

“I’m sorry, Abby. We will find out.”

Sinclair came back at that moment with two guards. “I’m sorry, Kane, but ye need to go with these men.”

“No!” Abby was indignant. “What do you mean? He can’t go with them; he has to see the medic.”

Sinclair looked at the guards, who nodded. “Ye can see the medic and then ye have to see the castle Commander. Don’t worry. It is just a formality.”

“What do you mean it is a formality? Why does Marcus have to see them?” Abby had a belligerent tone to her words.

“A man has died, and the Commander wants some answers, but everyone here knows what happened, don’t they?” He looked at the guard, who nodded again.

“The guards will attest that Alasdair attacked ye both, and that ye acted in self-defence. No one here wants any trouble, they don’t want anyone to know the Lord was harbouring a man who had kidnapped his wife and tried to kill her.”

Kane handed Thomas to Abby. “It will be alright, Abby. The sooner we get this sorted out, the sooner we can get home.”

Sinclair pulled him to his feet, and Kane embraced him. “Thank ye for everything.”

“I would like to say it was a pleasure, but…”

Kane laughed, and then held his side as pain from his hip joined the pain from his back and arm. Sinclair put his arm around him, and Abby walked next to him, holding his hand as they made their way back across the moor to the village.

---

The Hundred Camp, Broad Law, The Southern Uplands

Two days later

Abby sat back in her chair, surveying the scene in the Mess. Harper was cuddling Thomas, cooing over him while Raven dangled a wooden rattle she’d made in front of him, trying to encourage him to grasp it. Marcus and Sinclair had their heads together, deep in conversation over a flagon of ale. Marcus looked a lot better than he had two days ago. He had his colour back, and his eyes were bright and animated. He looked handsome as ever in his tight-fitting shirt, his kilt bunched up and tucked between his legs, exposing his tanned knees. Whatever he and Sinclair were talking about had him thinking; he was stroking his beard, his brow furrowed, lips pursed as Sinclair spoke. It was a year since she had met him on the road from Edinburgh, and what a year it had been. She had fallen in love with him almost from the start, and that love had only grown deeper as the months went on. For a long time, she had struggled to believe that her love was returned as deeply, not because of anything Marcus did or said, but because she didn’t believe she was worthy of such love. There was nothing interesting enough about Abigail Griffin for someone to feel so deeply about her that they would do anything for her. Somehow, Marcus had seen the old spark that was hidden deep within her and he had lit the flame, bringing her back to life.

She watched as Thomas grabbed hold of Raven’s hair and pulled it causing her to yell. Marcus laughed, and turned to look at Abby to see if she had seen it. She smiled and nodded to show she had, and he rolled his eyes as if to say, “our son!” He was so proud of Thomas it broke her heart a little and she wasn’t sure why. The weight of his love for his son lay heavy on her sometimes, as did her own love for Thomas, because it was overwhelming, and laced with an underlying fear of ever losing him, and the pain that would bring.

“Ye look sad, Abby. What’s the matter?” Jackson eased into a chair next to her, spreading his legs out in front of him.

“Not sad. Happy.”

“Well, I’d hate to see yer sad face, then!”

Abby patted him on the hand. “I was getting sentimental, that’s all.”

“It’s understandable. Ye’ve had a rough few weeks.”

“It has been an ordeal.”

“It’s over now.”

“Yes, you’re right.” She stroked his arm. It was over, and she had to convince herself of that, to allow herself to be happy without worrying that it would collapse at any moment. Nothing was going to take Marcus and Thomas away from her ever again. She wouldn’t let it.

The door opened and Blake walked in. Abby looked behind him, hoping that he would not be alone, but he turned and shut the door before coming over to her. She stood up so she could give him a hug.

“It is good to see you, Bellamy.”

“It is good to see thee as well.”

Marcus came across and pulled out a chair on the other side of Abby. “What is the news, Blake?”

“It is good news, Sir.” He looked at Abby. “The girl, Marianne, is recovering. She is still very poorly, but the medic thinks she will be alright given time.”

“Oh, that is wonderful news.” One of the weights that was pressing on Abby’s heart was lifted, and she felt such relief. “We must make sure she has everything she needs, Marcus.”

Marcus took her hand and squeezed it. “We will, my love.”

“That is not all,” continued Blake. “I have been to see Clarke.”

“Oh! How is she?”

“She is… conflicted would be the best word. She is so happy and relieved that ye are all safe, but I think she is sad too, about Alasdair, even though she hated what he had done. It is a difficult time for her.”

“It is understandable. He was a good father to her,” said Abby.

“Aye. Well, she has said she would like to come and visit ye.”

“When?”

“Soon. When ye have settled back in. She said to tell ye that she loves ye and she’s looking forward to meeting her brother.”

Tears of joy pricked Abby’s eyes as she looked at Marcus. He smiled at her, and leaned across to kiss her forehead. “All will be well,” he said. He stood up and looked around the room, smiling.

“I want tae thank ye all for everything ye have done for me and Abby and Thomas. Ye’ve risked yer lives for us, more than once, and while I don’t want ye ever doing that again, I’m grateful. No man could want more from his family. I hope that I can honour yer sacrifices, and be a husband, and a father, and a leader, that ye all can be proud of.”

“Ye already are, Kane,” said Sinclair.

“Don’t encourage him,” replied Raven and everyone laughed.

Kane smiled. “Aye, well one thing I do know, I’m not short of people who will keep me in line. To be serious for a moment, though. I may be the leader, but this is our future, to build together, work together, reap the rewards together.” He raised his goblet. “We are one clan.”

“We are one clan.” Everyone raised their goblets to toast the speech, and Harper came around filling their goblets with more wine and ale. Kane put his hand over the top of his goblet when she came to him.

“I am fine,” he said. He turned to Abby. “Shall we go home? I just want to be with thee and our boy.”

Abby stroked his face, kissed his lips. “Yes, let’s go home.”

Abby went to take Thomas from Raven. “Are ye leaving us?” she asked.

“Marcus needs to rest, we both do.”

“Rest, that’s a good word for it.” She laughed, then spoke louder, so that everyone could hear. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Kane!”

“With this hip! I wish.”

“I’m sure Abby will be gentle with thee.”

“Thank you, Raven,” said Abby as she handed Thomas to Marcus and then ushered them both out of the door.

They walked slowly back to their house, Marcus holding Thomas against his shoulder. Abby linked her arm through his to support him. He was still in a lot of pain, she knew, not that he would admit how much to her. The house was as she had left it two weeks before, and she felt a surge of happiness and contentment when she took in the carvings Marcus had made that littered every surface, and the paintings she had created that hung on the walls. It was humble, but it was more of a home than any she had known.

“Come and lie down on the bed.” She straightened the furs and helped Marcus lie down.

“I have to tell thee, my spirit is willing, but my body is weak, Abby.”

Abby laughed. “There is time enough for that.” She climbed up next to him, laying Thomas between them.

“What were you and Sinclair talking about earlier? It looked serious.”

“Oh, it was nothing, just some business.”

“Marcus. We are not keeping things from each other remember.”

Marcus sighed. “It was about Alasdair’s estate. Sinclair is in charge of it because Alasdair didn’t change that for fear of Sinclair finding out that he knew of his betrayal.”

“What does that have to do with us?”

“Well, the papers naming our son as his heir are real. Thomas is set to inherit all the Griffin estates.”

Abby was alarmed. “I don’t want anything from him, Marcus.”

“No, neither do I, but it has to be dealt with.”

“I understand that, but don’t exclude me from any decisions, will you?”

Marcus stroked her face. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to upset thee today that is all, when we are so happy.”

“We are each other’s strength, Marcus.”

“I know. And courage.”

Abby looked down at a sleeping Thomas, stroked his hair. “It is funny that a year ago neither of us expected we would have this life.”

Kane stroked Thomas’s face, his fingers brushing against Abby’s as he did. The flicker of heat she always felt when he touched her flowed through her veins.

“Aye, and what started out on a cold, dark night has become the light in my life, and my hope.”

Abby smiled. “That’s very poetic of you, Marcus. Did you ever write that ballad?”

“No, I never did get around to it. Perhaps I should write it. The Ballad of the Grey Wolf and the Maid o’ The Loch.”

“It would be a hit, I am sure.”

He brought her head to his, and kissed her, his tongue finding hers, making her moan. “Hmmm,” he said, as he stopped for breath. “It might be too much for some people. A shock for the old ladies.”

She put her hands in his hair, fingers tightening around his curls, and brought him back towards her. “They do not know what they are missing.” She kissed him, the familiar heat rising in her body, drawing her towards him. They were making their music again, unable to stop themselves even though their bodies were protesting. Then a third voice joined them, one that was definitely not in harmony.

“Someone is hungry,” said Marcus.

“He’s not the only one,” sighed Abby, sitting up and settling herself against the pillow.

“No, but there will be time for us later.” Marcus handed Thomas to her, and then laid his head on the pillow so he could watch her. He caressed their son’s tiny hand as Abby fed him.

Abby smiled at Marcus. “There will. We have the rest of our lives.”

THE END

Thank you so much for reading and for all the amazing comments and support. I’ve loved every minute of it.

#kabby #the 100 #marcus kane #abby griffin #kabby fanfic #ff #fanfic #writing #scotland #historical au #kilts #smut #henry ian cusick #paige turco

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thomasroach · 5 years ago

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Fire Emblem Three Houses Student Choices And Consequences Guide

When you become a teacher in Fire Emblem Three Houses, you will start to get choices as you speak with your students. Some will raise you points with them, while others will lower your points with them. Check out this Fire Emblem Three Houses student choices and consequences guide.

Black Eagles Students

Linhardt

I Could Forget About My Assignment

That’s not a good idea He just says yeah and yawns.

Now I am feeling sleeping too He says yeah and you get some points with him.

He Inhales Entire Plates Of Food

Sound’s unhealthy He agrees and says good luck handling it. Points here.

He must have a healthy appetite Linhardt will call him a goat and you get no points.

I Hope The Saints coffins Were Not Damaged

They didn’t Points here.

One might’ve been scratched He will be upset that he can’t get into the Mausoleum, no points.

I Have A Question

This is a question you might get after a lecture from Linhardt. He will ask you about if he should sleep during boring topics during class or not.

No need to fight it. You can’t help it This is the answer he is looking for.

Caspar

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I Could Take You Though

Not A Chance Caspar says with enough training he will beat you someday, and you get points with him.

Probably Caspar says you should work on your self confidence if you are planning to be a professor.

Says I Am Gonna Choke Or Something

It’s not safe to eat so quickly Caspar gets upset that you don’t agree with him and you get no points.

When you are busy there’s no alternative He is glad you agree and you get points for him.

I Do Not Think I could Choose A Side

Even if there’s a clear guilty party? Caspar says he’d be a good judge of that and you get no points.

We can’t allow a Hero’s Relic to be stolen Points here.

Ferdinand

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If You Would Like To Take Notes

I’m not taking notes He says all right, and starts listing them off anyways.

I’m ready He will say alright and go over the houses.

When he says he is more talented than anyone in his class.

I look forward to that He will be happy and say that there is nothing he cannot achieve, this one gives you points.

That sounds like wishful thinking He will say that there is nothing he can’t achieve.

I Abdhor Those Like Lord Lonato

He must have his reasons Ferdinand will say that you have a kind soul and apologize, but you get no points.

I Hope no one is hurt He says you have a kind soul, but this time you get points.

May I Ask?

This is when Ferdinad asks you about finding new weapons in this area.

Ask the knights to show you some weapons This is the right choice and will raise his morale and points with you.

Ferdinad Would Like To Speak With You

This is what you get when you rank up with Ferdinand. Answer the questions how you want and after your rank will go up to C.

Where She Might Have Wandered Off to

Perhaps she went looking for treats Points.

To the greenhouse, for some flowers? No points.

Bernadetta

Im Not Doing Anything

It’s not good to just do nothing She will say that she isn’t bothering anybody and you get no points.

Hey, what’s this cake doing out here? She will get excited for a minute then say that you are cruel, netting you some points.

Checking On Bernadetta

This is the event that happens when your support rank with her goes up to C.

Im Not Secretly Eating Cake

I can sense it She will call you out and you get no points.

I’ll take your word for it Points here.

Dorothea

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Have You Seen My Cloth?

Let’s search for it She will say um ok, but nothing happens.

I’ll tell Manuela Dorothea will thank you and you will get points for her.

Were You Watching That?

This is when you rank up with Dorothea. There are five choices, but none of them give or take away points. Pick what you want and after you will be rank C with Dorothea.

Depending On Who Died Its Different

What do you mean? She will say I hope nothing bad happens this month and you get no points.

It is different if it is someone you lost She says the same thing, but you get points with this choice.

Dorothea B Support Rank

When you and Dorothea hit Rank B Support you will get this convo.

Petra

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Too Hot Or Too Cold Weather?

The Cold Petra will agree and be happy, netting you some points.

The Heat Petra will say she prefers the cold.

I Have Also Been Targetted In The Past

How frightening Petra talk about good sniper spots in a tower, no points.

I’m happy you survived Petra says the same thing either way, but you get points with this one.

Petra Would Like To Speak With You

This the support rank up for Petra. The only choice that gives points is the one about her marks. Tell her you want to see them and she will be happy.

Petra B Rank Support

When you get Petra to support rank B she will have a convo with you. Choices don’t matter since there are no points here.

Hubert

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I Prefer Not To Consider Such A Gruesome Scenario

Of course not He will call you calm and you get points.

Frightening thought He will say is is that easy to get under your skin, huh? No points.

Hubert Wants To Speak With You

This is Hubert’s rank up.

Edelgard

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Edelgard Would Like To Speak With You

You get a glimpse into Edelgard’s past here, but there are no points to be earned.

Golden Deer Students

Felix

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Do You Want Something?

I was hoping to spar with you He says he can’t right now and you get points with him.

Nothing in particular He says then get out of his way.

Rapael

Strength Or Skill?

Strength He will say he knew you would agree with him, and you get points.

Skill Raphael says that he thinks strength wins out in the end, no points here.

What Do You Think Professor?

You may be right Raphael is happy with this answer and you get points.

I don’t think so Raphael will say oh come on, and you get no points.

How Important Can That Stuff Really Be?

It’s very important Raphael says he doesn’t care that he has no crest, and you get no points.

I’m not sure Points here.

Hilda

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I Am Busy So Make It Quick

You don’t look busy to me Hilda will be surprised you can tell, but you don’t get any points.

If you are busy, never mind She will ask if you are sure and then be relived, points here.

One Thing After Another

I believe so Hilda will say she is just kidding and you get points.

Maybe. Maybe not No points.

Lysithea

Have You Gone To The Library Yet?

Do you like books? He says it isn’t the books but the knowledge and you gain points with her.

You should get some rest She doesn’t care much for being treated like a child.

She Appears Young...

Maybe she’s lived a very sheltered life Points.

Maybe she’s actually a ghost No points

Ignatz

Feels Like I Am visiting Those Places Myself

You should visit them in person Ignatz said that he would like to, but doesn’t get many chances to travel.

You can learn so much from books He will agree and you will get points.

Talking About Art

Do you know a lot about art? He says he sees alot of art since he is form a merchant family, no points.

Do you like art? He will say that he likes art a lot and you get points.

Im Worried About Her

You think she’d be easily deceived? Points.

Do you have feelings for Flayn? No points.

Marianne

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Do You Need Something?

I came to see the horses She will be excited that you like horses because she does as well. Bonus points for this answer.

I am just looking around She will say I see and that she won’t bother you then. No points here.

I Never Though Such Forces Could Exist

It makes sense that the church has enemies She will say she doesn’t understand why people dislike the church. No points.

We only know a small part of this world She will say that is true and you will get points.

Leonie

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Do You Think I Can Be A Top Tier Mercenary?

That depends on how hard you work She says that she will work harder than all the nobles, but you get no points.

You really want to bring in the money huh? She will say that she does, but it also about honor and you will get points.

I Want To Help In Anyway I Can

I don’t know This choice gives you points.

Why don’t you ask him yourself? She will say that she does, but it also about honor and you will get points.

Meet With Leonie

This is when you get C Rank for Leonie. None of the choices get you extra points, you just learn more about her.

Lorenz

Perhaps This Is Not A Kidnapping

That’s possible Points here.

I don’t think so No points.

Blue Lion Students

Ashe

And Herbs I never Knew Existed

I’ve never had much interest in plants Ashe says that is normal and they all looked to the same to him before he studied them as well.

You seem well informed on the subject He says that his father is the real expert, and you gain points with Ashe.

I Am Sorry Professor

There’s nothing to be done He will say thank you, and you get no points.

Pull yourself together He will say thank you, and you will get points.

The Work Of Evil Spirits

Maybe it was No points.

Then it could be the same culprit Points here.

Sylvain

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Have You Seen Felix?

I saw him near the training hall Sylvain will say of course and thank you, you also get points with him.

I saw him at the dining hall He will say thanks for the info and you get no points.

I have a question

Bring along a snack, just in case This motivates her the most and will give you some extra exp.

Flayn Might Have Eloped

Quite an insensitive joke No points.

Is that a possibility? Points here.

Mercedes

Did You Come To Pray To The Goddess?

That’s right She will be happy and ask to pray together, points here.

I did not She will be shocked and suggest you both pray since you are here together, but nothing comes of it.

Annette

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Sweet Or Spicy?

Sweet She will be happy and say same and you gain points with her.

Spicy She will say your tastes are so mature and you get no points.

I have a question

Bring along a snack, just in case This motivates her the most and will give you some extra exp.

Do You Think Flayn is...

We can’t rule it out Points I don’t believe so No points

Teachers/Staff

Alois

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Going Out For A Mission

Good Luck He will say I don’t need luck and you will get points.

Be Careful Alois will kind of freak out and start talking about ghosts, no points though.

Do You Really Think She Was Kidnapped?

She must have been Points here.

There must be another explanation No points.

You Cant Think I Did That!

Did you find anything in the pond? Alois says he was too scared to even look.

I hear she was always yelling at you Alois claims she yells because of his dumb jokes.

Jeritza

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Care To Duel?

A duel? He will say he just wanted to spar and the convo will end.

To the death? He will say he just wanted to spar and the convo will end.

I Desire Fresh Air

That’s not like you He will say true and give you the mission.

The wind feels nice He will say hmph and give you a mission.

Rhea

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Something I can Help You With?

I wonder how the students are taking to me She will say you seem to be getting along well with the kids, show more confidence.

About the teachings of Serios Rhea will give a brief description and you will get points with her.

Were You Worried About My Safety?

I was worried Rhea will say she is alright, but your concern makes her happy. Points here.

The enemy could have other objectives Rhea will say that she is aware of the possibility, and you get no points.

I Have Looked Everywhere

You’re searching too? No points.

We will find her together. Rhea will say that she is aware of the possibility, and you get no points.

Seteth

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Some Individuals Making Advanced Towards Flayn

Not at all He will be happy with this answer and ask you to let him know if anyone gets close to Flayn. Points here.

Actually… Seteth will ask you to let him know if anyone is getting close to Flayn.

Procuring Some Supplies For Flayn

Did you encounter any danger He will say you don’t have to worry about him, but you get points.

What supplies? He will say basic stuff, don’t worry about it. No Points.

How Are You Handling The Sword?

No problems Points here.

...

I will find her. I swear it Points here. Try not to worry No points.

Procuring Some Supplies For Flayn

Did you encounter any danger He will say you don’t have to worry about him, but you get points.

What supplies? He will say basic stuff, don’t worry about it. No Points.

Catherine

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Here to train?

That’s an overstatement. I’m just me. She will say that you sound like a hard worker and smile, but you get no points.

That’s right. I’m a force of nature. Catherine said maybe the gossip is wrong since hard working people don’t make a fuss about it. No points.

In This Nervous State I might Cut You Down

Please don’t She will laugh and say it was a joke, no points.

I dare you to try She will say it was a joke and you get points.

Catherine Support Rank C

When you up your support rank with Catherine you will have a convo with her. No points here.

What Would Make You Suspect Him?

The mask he wears is suspicious No points. I heard he goes out every night Points here.

Cyril

I Am A Little Busy

Oh, sorry He will point you to the greenhouse and get back to work.

Can’t we just talk a little Cyril says that he really can’t talk right now, but you get relationship points with this choice.

Please Dont Let Her Down

Of course not He will say he hopes you mean that, and you get points.

We’ll see Cyril will say he is watching you, no points.

Shamir

Try Aimless Wandering

I was thinking about the enemies objective Shamir will ask if you even know who the enemies is, and you get points.

I’m not looking for anything She will say sure and you don’t get points.

Find Me Suspicious?

You’re not from Fodlan She says true and asks what your point is?

What did you do before coming to the monastery She will give you some insight into what she was doing.

Sothis

A Heros Relic

Do you know something? She will say how could she know? And you get some points with her.

It represents great power Sothis will say quite so and you get no points.

Manuela

If You Can Keep Them Going Then I Will Too

I will protect them Points here.

I will try my best No points, no response.

Gilbert

When First Meeting Him

Aren’t you too formal? He will say it is his nature, no points.

It’s a pleasure to meet you Points here.

Unique Situation?

Your true identity? Gilbert will tell you that he was once a a knight in a royal family.

Do you mean Annette? He will talk about his days as a knight.

Hanneman

Objective Professional

Excitement is understandable He will talk about the scandal and you get no points.

I respect your self control Points here.

A Fool. Thats Who

Is her Crest rare enough to justify kidnapping? Points here.

You have already investigated her thoroughly No points.

Tomas

Might I Ask Your Reasons?

Why were you asking about Flayn? Tomas says he has worked her a long time, but Flayn is new.

Why were you asking about my father? He will say he knew him and talks a bit about Jeralt.

Jeralt

She Was Carrying Something

Jeritza’s mask? Jeralt says he isn’t close to the guy so he can’t say for sure.

Flayns mask? Jeralt will ask if you are well since there is no Flayn mask.

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Fire Emblem Three Houses Guides

Posted 1 hour ago by Johnny Hurricane in Fire Emblem Three Houses Guides, Game Guides

Fire Emblem Three Houses Side Quest Guide

Fire Emblem Three Houses has plenty of side quests that you can do for extra money and exp. Some of these quests are simple, and others can be tricky. Check out this Fire Emblem Three Houses side

Posted 1 hour ago by Johnny Hurricane in Fire Emblem Three Houses Guides, Game Guides

Fire Emblem Three Houses Gift Giving Guide

In order to improve your relationship with people in Fire Emblem Three Houses, you can give them gifts. Sometimes they like a gift and accept, other times they don’t like a gift and take it anyways

Posted 1 hour ago by Johnny Hurricane in Fire Emblem Three Houses Guides, Game Guides

Fire Emblem Three Houses Choices And Consequences Guide

Fire Emblem Three Houses has a ton of choices for you to make throughout the game. Some of these have obvious consequences and others, not so much. Check out this Fire Emblem Three Houses choices and

Posted 1 hour ago by Johnny Hurricane in Fire Emblem Three Houses Guides, Game Guides

Fire Emblem Three Houses Student Likes And Dislikes Guide

Recruiting new students in Fire Emblem Three Houses can be tricky. You need to know what a student likes and what they dislike in order to get them quicker. Check out this Fire Emblem Three Houses

The post Fire Emblem Three Houses Student Choices And Consequences Guide appeared first on GamersHeroes.

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