#siegbert {a heavy crown crushing honeysuckle and aster beneath its weight}

[harvestrose]

dried white roses and the black cousins that take their place

black roses, marigolds, cypress, purple hyacinths, wormwood, dried white roses (TW: death, gore, suicidal ideation. tldr; mozu watches her only son siegbert die)

Despite every instance of healing, every nerve that seemed to freeze under the ice and stop hurting, she still screamed.

.

She had never been pinned like this before, hadn’t been so useless since she first joined Corrin’s army, and despite every attempt, every push against the blade of ice, against the tree behind her-

she was stuck.

.

Her hands shake with adrenaline and blood loss, but she looks up when she hears a scream, hand reaching for the dagger in her belt-

.

Her blood runs cold.

.

.

She screams as his own shaky limbs force a stumble, screams as the sword tumbles to the ground- uselessly- she screams as she sees him fall to his knees, cough wracking his body, blood clearly dripping from his mouth and chest and all of a sudden she’s 17 again, motionless as she cries out for her family-

.

He reaches out a hand, and she thinks she hears him speak be f o    r       e

.

.

.

.

.

.

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it’s the same sound. 

.

.

her mother’s body made the same sound under the relentless fists of the faceless, all sickening cracks and squelching blood and flesh

.

.

.

                        she doesn’t scream.

not at first. she didn’t scream at first when her mother died either. but her scream rings out seconds later

.

.

            her scream is different now.

when she was 17, it was a scream of panic and fear and pain and sadness.

.

now it is a scream of horror and despair and desperation and unending sorrow and pain and rage and so much more because she is not just seeing her mother die again

.

.

she is a mother seeing her only son die in front of her eyes, the echo of his grandmother, his grandfather, his aunts and uncles and everyone she’d ever known as a girl

                     crushed                                       like discarded tomatoes left to rot in the sun

.

.

.

.

she screams

               and she fears the future of laying her son to rest

                              telling her husband of the worst loss they’d ever experienced

.

.

.

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.

.

.

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she screams, and for the first time in 9 years

                             she wishes she would just die too.

[harvestrose]

“Somethin’ is wrong, Sieggy-!” she grunts as she pulls out her lance, using it to block the attack of some soldier of questionable origin. “Listen! I hear ‘Empire’ folks talkin’ ‘bout Alliance places and-” she uses the blunt of her weapon to knock someone away, gritting her teeth at the way it makes her bones shake. “Remember Zola?! All that illusion bullshit he pulled?! Look at this mist an’ tell me-” another clang as she blocks another hit, “-tell me what’cha think! Tell me you ain’t seein’ them uniforms lookin’ a bit too yellah ‘re orange when the mist gets pushed away fer a hot second!” She uses the long handle of her lance to swipe the feet out from under someone. “Remember that dream?! We- shit, we gotta find the older Claude ‘fore somethin’ happens- we’re s’posed tah protect him! Cuz I don’t know what all is goin’ on, but I know fer a damn fact some illusionist ‘s tryin’ tah set us up, jus’ like Zola did!” 

She doesn’t call the (dead) magician a rat bastard out loud solely for Siegbert’s sake.

"Sieggy?! Baby, where are yah?! Are you a'ight?!" She rushes through the mist, gripping her bow tight as she ducks under various blows, mumbling apologies for the two folks she swipes the feet out from, knocking them on their asses. "Honeysuckle-"

Fingers flex on the hilt of his blade, Siegbert quickly sidesteps to avoid the attack of another soldier. With their momentum thrown off, he brings his sword down upon them without a hint of mercy. Good, another one d—

Someone calls his name. Concentration broken, he glances up, only to scowl.

“Quit worrying about that! You can ask about my wellbeing after this battle is over, so turn around and fight!”

[harvestrose]

coming up roses

The battle with Leto wasn’t easy, but it sure wasn’t anywhere near as frightening or life-threatening as battling Anankos 3 years ago had been, so Mozu wasn’t too torn up about the whole shindig besides the number of students who got injured in the process. They’d been too focused on success they’d overlooked the dangers of having over half of their team down there when the triggered the collapse- especially since the next part of the plan was to haul ass out of Morfis before the damn idiot mages killed them for killing their precious “test subject” or something. She was glad they’d killed it, since she was raised to not let her meals or her targets suffer- they were giving her life, meaning she had to respect the sacrifice or their lives in return, after all- but she’d have given up her bow if it meant as smooth a ride out of that place as possible.

But knowing people got hurt- that made her worry. Her boy and her husband were up against two very different beasts, ones who didn’t cry like the dead who fought with beaks and teeth and claws- and that just made her worry more. The messenger who ran into them on the way home had explained the situation with the other teams already being back at the monastery, and they in turn warned him about why he shouldn’t go to Morfis (which he certainly seemed a rather bit displeased about, she noted, but human lives were a helluva a lot more important than political standing.) He said almost no one escaped Grincenchos’s wild wrath (xander, sweet dragons above, is xander okay, is kana okay, is shigure okay, is my famiy okay--) that only 3 people escaped Gofannon’s targeted attack unscathed (sieg, honeysuckle, please say you were one of them- please say your auntie was one of them too, i cant bear to see you hurt, sweetie, and i dont wanna cry over a woman’s second death, please be alright--) 

The instant she got back, she saw Xander up and walking- thank the dragons and gods alike for that- when he went onto reunite with a man who didn’t know him yet, but she’d greet her husband later, after he got a handle on Inigo’s situation and she could comfort him- he’d seen her, and he’d know why she’d went off- he’d have done the same if he were her, she knew. 

First, she went to his dorm, but it was empty, looking exactly the same as the day he’d left it. She cursed under her breath, hastening her pace as she headed for the infirmary. The place was packed- poor nurses on duty must’ve been worked to the bone with how many kids and knights were crammed into the damn place. He wasn’t there. She kept walking, hearing a similar bustle in the next room, and when she busted the door open with more force than necessary (scaring the wits out of one of the nurses,) she saw him, and in an instant she rushed over, grabbing a hand between her own. 

“Siegbert! Baby boy, are you alright?! What happened- where’dja get hurt- do yah need anythin’- ohhhh, pumpkins an’ squash, can I hug yah or d’yah got funky ribs right now?” Dear dragons above, she was already getting teary eyed, but she was more worried about her boy than any crying she might not even do. “Shit, baby boy, are you healin’ alright? Can yer mama kiss yer face or-”

                                                                            @perfectionist-prince

[harvestrose]

honeysuckle buds

When Mozu got a list of all the new students she’d have to prepare rooms for, she just about shrieked with delight when she caught the name of a certain boy.

Siegbert Dragmire, Heir to the Nohrian Throne, Transfer Student, assigned to the Black Eagles House.

She somehow hadn’t even thought up that her baby boy might wanna see new places too, get away from the drama of Nohr for a tad- poor darling was anxious enough as it was, and the added pressure of constant assassination attempts and reparation politics could only push him so far before he’d snap like a fresh pepper. She’d seen him a few times while she rebuilt her old home, when he’d visit for some fresh air and for his mama’s warm hugs and down-to-earth personality, but they were never long- a few weeks, at most, and she’d still be busy working the whole time, even though she wanted to give her baby all her free time. She missed her boy, and things got... sad for her in that village too fast. She got too caught up in memories that had no place in a few village, of ghosts that she’d never truly see again until the day she finally kicked the bucket, and she didn’t want Siegbert to see her like that- half stuck in the past when she had tried to do all she could to show him vibrancy and warmth, vitality and joy and life that he just couldn’t get as the crown prince, but that he could get as the son of a simple farmer. He couldn’t come as often no more, with all the extra duties he took up to help his papa, to prove he was good enough to inherit the throne when though Xander already thought the boy hung the moon and the stars himself. It made all of them sad, she thinks.

But him coming here, a foreign land with no princely responsibilities and no connections to sad things that brought either of them down? Well, that made her happier than a duck in monsoon season.

So, the day he was slated to arrive, she clocked in a personal day and stood by the gate with the gatekeeper boy- sweet kid, that gatekeeper, she’d have to bring him some soup next time it rained- waiting for Siegbert to come riding up to the door on his horse. She double checked her satchel to make sure she had enough apples and carrots for an exhausted horse and the little pile of welcome gifts for Siegbert- some extra notebooks for class notes so he wouldn’t have to worry about that for a while longer, the nicest sketchbook she could find, a book about the legends of the man who made the Kingdom which she thought he’d enoy, and a book about art in Fódlan since she knew he loved the stuff. She couldn’t help but feel as pleased as a wyvern in the Hoshidan sun that she’d managed to find all these gifts and remember to pack them all.

She looked up and beamed when she saw Siegbert riding up the hill, and she just barely managed to stop herself from stumbling and rolling down the hill as she started running down the hill to meet him.

“Sieggy! My lil’ honeysuckle! Get on down from that there horse so yer mama can give you a big ‘ol hug!”

[harvestrose]

|| 🎄 || ; Of course, Mozu had always been the exception to every rule in Siegbert's life. He enjoys her embrace when others' touch makes him squirm; he doesn't mind her intrusions, when anyone else would receive a firm scolding; he doesn't turn down her gifts, when others might get theirs politely declined; and he'd never turn down one of her kisses. "Mother," there's a smile in his voice, "though our tradition back home differs slightly, one rule remains the same: I believe you owe me a kiss!"

Mozu was very much like her husband in that her life practically revolved around her family, though she had a much broader definition of family than Xander had, even with the recent addition of the Hoshidan royals, but she always had a soft spot bigger than the sun itself for her son, and she figured she always would, but seeing her boy come up for a kiss from his mama of his own volition? That just made her wanna pick him up and spin him around like she used to do when he was still littler than she was, but doing that made him redder than a strawberry in the summer sun, so she didn’t, settling instead for grinning and pulling him down by his cape. “Yer damn right I do, but I gotta get close enough tah yer face tah kiss yah, honeysuckle! Yer just too tall fer yer mama tah reach otherwise!” she teases, peppering his cheeks and nose with kisses while he laughs warmly, finally stopping a minute or few later as she pinches his cheeks.

“Mother! I’m not a child anymore,” he protested, the bright smile on his face betraying his joy at the action, and she laughed in turn.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop, bu’chu gotta give me a kiss in return! Come on, yer mama’s waitin’!”

[harvestrose]

She laughs as he interrupts her to press kisses to each of her cheeks- she used to tell him that every freckle he got was a little marker of each time his mama or papa kissed him, and she liked to think that was true for his kisses to her too, so she’d have little spots from her little boy decorating her skin. She squeezes back when he holds her hand- her little boy is a real gentleman that’s for sure. “You’re too sweet- but yeah, he sure did. Your auntie picked this out for me, and he wasn’t expectin’ it, so he got real flustered- I ain’t seen ‘im that red since ‘is coronation when I wore that fancy purple thing!” she laughs again, beaming up at her son. “Still, you’re lookin’ handsome as all get out-” she reaches up with her free hand to pinch his cheek gently.

She raises an eyebrow at who all he’s spoken with, batting gently at his shoulder with a small smile. “You could do tah talk tah a few more folks, but I know yer like yer daddy ‘bout talkin’, so I ain’t gonna push yah ‘r nothin’,” she explains, huffing out a soft laugh. “But I’m glad yer happy, honeysuckle.” She notes the tipsiness- he was like her, he got bolder, more playful, less restrained, and she was glad for it. Her son could stand to be less anxious all the time. “Let’s go then, Sieggy!” She beams as she takes his other hand, the two easily spinning onto the dance floor, laughing in delight as they found the beat and began a simple dance she’d taught him- one from her village, before the war happened. It wasn’t anything fancy, or even one of the funky fast ones, but it was still delightful.

She spots him easily enough, with how tall he is and all, and makes her way over, skirts hiked up so she didn't trip over them. "Sieggy, sweetheart, there yah are! Oh, yer lookin' like a handsome young man now- here, lean on down an' giver yer mama a smooch on the cheek an' let me sign yer lil' card!" She grabs one of his hands. "Then we'll do some real dancin', yeah?"

Ethereal Ball Ask Memes! || Signet Exchange!

“Mother! Don’t you look as radiant as ever?”

Before Mozu can even finish asking for a kiss, Siegbert has already bent down to press his lips to both of her cheeks in an adoring manner. She grabs one of his hands and he squeezes, gently, while his other comes to rest atop hers, closing her hand between his.

“I’m sure father turned into a stuttering schoolboy when he saw you, didn’t he, mother?” he chuckles, a series of soft kisses pressed to her fingertips, before he finall pulls out his signet card from his pocket and places it in her hand.

“It’s funny—you, father, and Sir Inigo are the only ones I’ve actually spoken to tonight, but I feel quite content. It feels a bit like home, actually,” he chuckles. After she’s signed his card, he tucks it back into his pocket and pulls her into an easy-going dance (can she tell her boy is just a little bit tipsy tonight? No elegant choreography, now).

“Let’s dance the night away, mother, and show these Fodlan folks how it’s done in Nohr.”