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Chapter Text

   The bells were ringing. Their dire chorus carried heavy news for the Kingdom of Nohr.

Soldiers ran throughout the castle as news of the Hoshidan infiltration spread. Echoes of frantic footsteps and commands flooded the halls as the staff and civilians were escorted to safe rooms and any exits. Among the crowds, Camilla hung like wet robes from the shoulders of her retainers, worn out from her battle with Corrin and the Hoshidan army. The throng of panic around them was both a blessing and a curse to Selena and Beruka, as they heaved their liege through the chaotic masses. While no one was present to pester them with questions, the unpredictable mobs inevitably delayed their progress. They grunted with each step, their advance hindered by the crowd.

Mercifully, the doors to Camilla’s chambers came into sight. Throwing the doors open, the two retainers laid Camilla as gently as they could onto her bed. No sooner had Camilla’s head landed, Selena turned for the door.

“Where are you going?" Beruka snapped. "You can't leave her."

Selena froze, hand gripping her sword. Shit. In truth she was mere steps away from doing just that, much to her shame.

“I wasn’t going to. I’m standing guard.” Her response came out more desperate than resolute. Camilla’s hysteria over finding Elise had not only dragged Selena away from Odin and Laslow, but also set the castle on edge. Now everything had gone to shit, and Selena was bound to protect Camilla, blind to the events unfolding. The hilt of her sword dug into her palm. Her stomach churned as she thought of her husband, Laslow. Hopefully he was safe. But with his liege, Xander, preparing to face Corrin, she couldn’t suppress her anxiety.

This couldn’t have gone worse.

***

   “SAVE ME, YOUR MAJESTY!”

Odin had never taken pleasure in hearing dying men plead for mercy. Yet in this case, even he couldn’t repress a small smirk hearing Iago’s pathetic squeals fall on deaf ears as his Lord, Leo, executed the repulsive sorcerer. From behind a statue, he and his fellow retainer, Niles, watched as Leo conversed with Corrin.

“With the snake’s head severed, the final hour draws nigh. The Dark Prince strikes his bargain with the Maiden of the Silver Dragon, sealing the fate of the Night-Bound castle!”

“Must you narrate everything, Odin?” said Niles with an exasperated sigh.

Odin ceased his mumblings with a chuckle. “Do forgive me, my single-sighted sniper. I am simply wrapped in the growing tapestry of the moment.”

“While I’m also trembling with jubilation at seeing the little swine get it, I don't need you to dictate the show to me. I can see it just fine."

“But Niles,” Odin protested, “We are witnessing history in motion."

“Oh there are other motions I’d rather witness.” Niles smirked, prompting an eye roll from Odin. “But right now, what's captivating my attention is that orb.”

Odin returned his gaze to his liege. Leo was still talking with Corrin, a cracked, azure orb in his hand. The one Azura gave him. That must be why Leo changed his mind so quickly.

Leo exchanged a brief, yet tight hug with Corrin, before descending the stairs of the main hall. Odin and Niles stepped out to meet him. “Milord, are we not to join them on their endeavour?” Odin inquired.

Leo cast one last look at the Hoshidans disappearing through the grand doors, his face wracked with turmoil. “No. They will be victorious, I know it.”

“So….” Niles drawled, “Do you intend to keep teasing us with that orb?”

A disapproving glare from Leo silenced him. “Later. For now we must quell the panic. Both of you, I want you to go around to any and all troops. Tell them the situation has been resolved, and by command of Prince Leo they are to stand down.”

“What of The King? And Prince Xander?” Niles tilted his head, confusion written over his features.

Odin didn’t need to hear Leo’s reply. He knew King Garon was long gone, nothing more than a vessel for the Silent Dragon, Anankos. He suspected Leo now knew this too, thanks to the orb.

Leo’s face scrunched, his response delayed. “Xander will listen to reason.” His lie was barely concealed. “As for my Father… He died when he started this war." The dark shadow over Leo’s face pained Odin. Watching his lord grapple with the truth compelled him to reach out and comfort him. He couldn’t imagine feeling this way of his own father, who gave his life shielding Odin from an arrow storm. For that man, he had only known admiration. Leo snapped back. “What are you two still doing here? Go, before the situation gets worse.”

With a stiff bow, they left. The plan was nearly complete. All Odin could do now was pray that everything would work out. Would Naga even hear us here?

***

   “You’re injured.”

Selena nearly jumped at Beruka’s voice. Beruka was kneeling by her, inspecting a cut over her thigh, dark blood beginning to crust.

“I’m fine.” Selena hastily stepped, limping as she felt the sting for the first time. Beruka seized her arm.

“It is minor, but we cannot afford for anything to compromise our ability to protect Lady Camilla.” She fixed Selena with a defiant look.

Selena relented with an agitated huff. She sat beside Camilla as Beruka applied bandages to the wound. It had grown rather quiet outside. With Beruka bandaging her leg and Camilla lying beside her, drawing long ragged breaths, she felt unbearably vulnerable. The bells had stopped, and the silence left in their wake was suffocating. She was ready to be done with this. She knew this mission would be dangerous, they all knew it. But she still resented that they had been dragged into yet another war. Everything was completely derailed when the war flared up, especially when Corrin left Nohr. Instead of being able to properly complete their mission, She, Odin and Laslow were trapped as retainers to the Nohrian royal family. Through sheer luck did they realise it was Corrin they had to aid. Now she had gotten through, Selena prayed she’d be able to end Anankos.
She clawed at the bedsheets, frantically tapping her leg. Camilla dragging her away had upset the plan. Now she had no idea where Odin or Laslow were, or if they were even in position. Do they even know? Selena struggled to keep her thoughts coherent as Beruka continued working.

Camilla is out cold. Leo is on side, according to Odin. That leaves Xander. With all this racket, I can't imagine Laslow being able to distract Xander. Which means he might get dragged into fighting.... Although, Elise is with Corrin. Maybe he won’t have to distract Xander.

Selena’s ears tingled. Thinking she heard a roar, she cocked her head, straining to listen. But as Beruka continued cleaning the wound, having seemingly heard nothing, Selena concluded she must have imagined it.

After that, it’s Garon. Well, Anankos. Can’t believe he has been here this entire time. That’s not at all terrifying. Least after this it should be over. Then we can leave, finally. Then Laslow and I can- No. Focus.

She hissed as a shot of pain ran up her leg. “You right there?”

Beruka didn’t acknowledge her tone. “I’m making sure the bandage is tight.”

“And cutting off my circulation.”

Beruka looked up at Selena with blank eyes. “You’re worried. About Odin and Laslow.”

“No shit.” Selena sneered, instantly regretting her response. She found Beruka’s stone-faced responses as helpful as they were infuriating. Such composure during a moment of tension was what she needed. Selena looked down, brow creased. “They’ll be ok. Right?”

Beruka sat for a moment. “Yes.”

Selena nodded. She repeated Beruka's response to herself, for what little help it did.

***

   A disembodied bellow was heard, the force of it tearing through the castle, shaking the foundations and rattling the bones of the anxious soldiers Odin found himself among. His heart soared, sensing the tingle of ancient magic. That sensation. It can only mean that he’s dead! It’s over! Odin clenched his fists in elation, relieved laughter pouring unrestrained.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” The soldiers shifted nervously. “What the hell are you laughing at?

Composing himself, Odin turned to the crowd. “Succumb not to the fear, oh brave soldiers.” He cheered to the fidgeting crowd. “For the malignant curse that has quietly pervaded this castle has been purged.” The soldiers looked to him as if he were a rambling hermit.

“What are you prattling about?” One trembled.

“Speak plainly, jester!” Another snapped.

Odin sniggered from where he stood. “Do not fear repercussion, for such knowledge was known to few, but there has been a presence in this castle. A dark, malevolent spectre that has slithered in and taken root. One who would seek to prolong this war, who would profit on death and suffering. And with that bellow, you can trust that I, Odin Dark, can confirm its demise.”

The agitated mumblings of the soldiers were cut off by the deep, booming ring of a bell. Odin’s head snapped up. This wasn’t the same bell that rang to alert the castle of the invasion. It was deeper, slower. By the toll of that bell, the entire castle knew that the King was dead. Frantic running could be heard echoing through the halls as it kept ringing. Odin’s brow furrowed. An icy anxiety wormed its way up his chest, lodging in his throat. Why the death of the King concerned him he could not place. Soon voices were heard.

“The Crown prince has fallen!”

Odin’s heart beat matched the bell in intensity. They called out not for their King? With each strike, his fear grew. The calls of despair kept coming.

“Prince Xander is dead!”

“Prince Xander has fallen!”

“Lady Elise has fallen!”

Odin gripped his hair in his hands, head swarming in a haze of panic. Xander’s dead? And Elise too?! How calamitous was that battle? His heart seized at the next toll. What of Laslow?

He took off like a frightened animal, bolting for the Great Hall.

***

   Selena and Beruka jumped at the toll of the bell.

“The King’s dead.” Beruka whispered.

Selena clutched her sword so much her hand ached. The castle came alive as people rushed through the halls, the sounds of their footsteps mashing into a low drone, buzzing like insects in a hive. Voices carried the news through the castle.

“Prince Xander has died!”

“Lady Elise is dead!”

The pair were stunned. Selena’s heart flew to her throat. If Xander was dead, then what about Laslow? She leapt off the bed and made for the door. She was yanked back by her arm.

“What are you doing?!” Beruka snapped incredulously.

“Let me go! I have to find Laslow!” Selena tried to wrest her arm free.

“And leave Lady Camilla?”

The bell continued to toll. Each ring reminding her that time was slipping away. “Let me go! I have to know. I have to know!” She snapped, her eyes frantic and pleading. Beruka looked her over, eyes softening ever so slightly before relinquishing her hold.

“Alright. I’ll guard Lady Camilla.”

Beruka had barely finished before Selena was out the door. The halls were in chaos as guards and servants ran about. She barrelled down a hall, figuring the throne room would be the safest bet. The bell taunted her as she was jostled by the crowd, her movements mired by the throng, like wading through mud. She rounded a corner, only to be almost toppled by a sprinting mage.

“Watch where you’re going, asshole!” She whirled on the mage, pausing when she realised it was Odin, panting and eyes reeling.

“Selena! You’re alright!” Odin clasped her shoulders, nearly crying.

“I’m fine, where’s Laslow?” She gripped his wrists in return.

“I don’t know,” He panted, his tone quivering in terror. “Last I knew Xander was fighting Corrin in the Great Hall. I’m heading there now.”

Without further discussion, the two of them took off.

***

   Neither the sting of her wound, nor the burning in her lungs could match the pain in her heart. Selena and Odin ascended the steps to the Great Hall two at a time, barging past soldiers and healers. Everything a blur save the doors. The scene within hit them like a hammer. Bodies littered the floor, both Nohrian and Hoshidan. Torchlight reflected off discarded weapons and pools of blood, giving the room a hellish, orange glow. The hall was crowded by people carrying the wounded and the dead away.
Selena furiously wiped her eyes, desperately trying to clear her vision, throwing her head around trying to spot anyone she recognised. The smell of the dead choked her, and the mounting dread nearly overwhelmed her. She caught a glimpse of black armour as her vision cleared.

Propped against the far wall, armour mangled and hair tousled was Prince Xander. His neck bent on an unusual angle, he looked more like a decrepit wretch than a proud prince. Beside him lay Elise, her body covered with what looked to be Xander’s cape, the middle soaked a deep crimson. Selena drew a pained breath. She looked further to the right. Peri lay slumped up against the wall. Even in death, she bore an unsettling smile, her face frozen in twisted joy. Her expression likened her more to a child’s doll made in poor taste, rather than the corpse of a soldier slain in battle. She still couldn’t see him among the bodies. Perhaps...

She heard Odin gasp and froze on the spot. The world went quiet, save for a dreadful ringing in her ear. She knew she had to look, but couldn’t bring herself to do so. Praying against the inevitable, she forced her head to turn.

Odin had already crossed the room. Cradled in his arms, was Laslow’s limp body.

She gasped and ran to him on weak legs, falling to her knees by his side. Odin rocked back and forth, wordless pleas pouring from his mouth like the tears from his eyes. She reached for Laslow, blood roaring in her ears, slow and sluggish as if submerged in water.

“Laslow? Laslow please.” Odin whispered. “Please open your eyes.” The quivering desperation in his voice drove an icy knife into her heart.

“Wake up.” She wheezed. “Laslow don’t you dare leave me. Laslow!" She struggled to breathe, her voice died in her throat.

“Come on buddy. You’ve been through worse.”

"You promised. You promised we'd go home together. Get up!" She clutched his shirt, the thick cloth squelching, soaked a deep crimson. Selena shook violently as she gazed upon her husband, hand clawing, searching for something, anything to save him. But as she looked at his bloody body, adorned with black metal stars, clothes torn and shield scratched, the gut-wrenching reality crushed her. “Inigo… Please.” She whispered.

They cradled him a moment longer, breaths bated as if waiting for an answer. For him to wink and chuckle. For it all to be a nightmare. But as she looked into Odin’s eyes, saw the despair within, it was clear that their beloved friend was gone. Selena pounded his chest in agony, choking on tears she had fought so desperately.

“You bastard,” she cried, “You fucking bastard.”

She fell upon him, gripping him as if to stop him from floating away, her tears soaking into his tunic. She didn’t feel Odin’s arms encompass them both, his head against hers, his tears hot on her skin. She only felt the stiff, cold body of Laslow, the smell of his blood in her nostrils. She cried as promises danced unfulfilled in her head, as hopes for their future died with him.

For Selena and Odin, time seemed to stand still. Everything they had fought for: Nohr, Hoshido, the battle with Garon and Anankos; it all faded into the background. The weight of the war seemed trivial compared to that of the body in their arms and the heaviness in their hearts. Their victory rang hollow over the chilling visage of Laslow, his eyes hidden under his blood-soaked hair, his expression a grimace that seemed so much like a smile.

***

   His arms and knees ached in tandem with his heart, yet Odin made no effort to stand. Barely a breath stirred between him and Selena while they gripped Laslow. How much time had passed? He cared not. Nothing registered to him. Selena’s weak gasps were deafening compared to the great bell, whose toll sounded far away. He could not feel the rough stone beneath him, yet he felt every strand of Laslow’s hair. The agonising tearing in his chest had dulled, replaced by what could only be described as nothingness.

A hand gently grasped his shoulder. He slowly turned his head up, blinking lethargically like one does when roused from a deep sleep. Niles gazed down at him, his mouth pulled into a taut line. Odin could not read his face.

“We’re moving the bodies.” His voice, while soft, cut like glass. “We’re going to put Laslow and Peri with Xander.”

Selena pulled her head up. Through red, puffy eyes, she had a look of resignation. Odin nodded, shifting to lift his friend. He drew a deep breath and lifted. He didn’t get Laslow past his knees before sinking with a pained whine. Selena caught him, looping her arms under Laslow and gripping Odin’s. He gave her an apologetic look, only to receive an understanding grimace. They lifted Laslow and followed Niles.

The royal mausoleum wasn't far, physically speaking. Essentially its own wing of the castle as opposed to a necropolis of its own. But carrying Laslow, who even between them felt as heavy as iron, made the journey a test of endurance. Their steps were slow and trembling. Selena’s head hung lamely over Laslow's, a distant and haunted look in her eyes. Odin kept his eyes averted. He could no longer bear to gaze on his friend's battered visage. His throat ached, and the torches along the walls could not stave off the chill. Fragmented memories of long ago flitted in and out of his mind. From his wretched time fighting the Fell Dragon, of carrying more and more of the dead. He never remembered them being so heavy.

The doors to the mausoleum loomed before them: a dark, repulsive maw from which wafted the stench of death. Although most of the soldiers’ bodies were taken to be cremated on a funeral pyre, it was Nohrian tradition that the royalty were brought here, as were their retainers. Odin and Selena both grimaced. At the centre of the room stood a massive pedestal covered in ornate drapes and cushions. Laying on the pedestal was Garon. His skin was sunken, as if the muscle beneath had dissolved, aged well beyond his years; likely a result of Anankos' possession. Their contempt for him burned like fire.

Encircling the pedestal were stone benches; a courtesy for family members who were too old or frail to stand. On one such bench lay Xander. Peri lay on the next bench, her features tweaked to appear less macabre. The bench after was empty; a cold reminder of who it was for. Hushed tones and whimpers drew their attention to the other side of the room where Elise lay, now cleaned and redressed. Leo knelt by her side, head buried in her shoulder. Corrin stood with him, arms wrapped tight around him. Barely perceptible in the inky darkness stood the imposing form of Ryoma, the High Prince of Hoshido, flanked by some Hoshidan warriors. Odin felt Selena tense. A Hoshidan approached, arms raised to accept Laslow. Selena recoiled, snarling. Odin held his hand to calm the anxious soldiers, hands on their weapons. With the Hoshidans settled, Odin and Selena lay Laslow on the stone, her hand lingered under his head before withdrawing reluctantly.

A sudden wave of nausea overcame Odin. Everything seemed to blur and sway. He carefully gripped Selena’s trembling shoulders, partly to steady himself, partly as a gesture of comfort. She shuddered.
It was then that Corrin noticed them, tentatively approaching. Her freshly bandaged brow was furrowed, her lips drooped and her cheeks wet. She looked pitifully small in her brilliant silver armour, a far cry from her draconic form.

"I just wanted to say," she started, her voice wobbling, hands clutching each other.

"Don't."

Both Corrin and Odin blinked. Selena's one word carried so much venom they could only wince in response. Corrin took a deep breath before trying again. "I'm so sorry about-"

"DON'T." Selena's voice echoed through the mausoleum. "Not a damn word from you!"

“Selena…” Odin warned, wary of the uneasy eyes on them. She shook his hands off, jabbing a finger at Corrin.

“This was your fault,” Selena growled, making Corrin shrink back. “If it weren’t for you… If it hadn't been for you…” She clenched her fists, turning to Laslow as her voice fell to a low rasp. “He’d still be alive.” She buried her face in Laslow’s chest.
Odin gave Corrin an apologetic look, silently pleading for her to understand. She returned his look with a grim smile and a defeated shrug. Selena’s muffled sniffles nearly brought him to his knees, when Leo stepped forward.

“Lord Leo.” Odin mustered a half salute, despite his legs wishing to cave. Leo looked at him with vacant, red eyes. “My sincerest condolences, milord.”

Unable to form a proper response, Leo grasped Odin’s shoulder. His fingers dug into Odin’s clothes. He opened his mouth, a long pause following. “Why don’t you and Selena retire for the night?”

“Milord?”

“It’s been a long war. We could all do with some rest.”

“I’m not leaving him.” Selena groaned from the slab.

“He’ll still be here tomorrow.” Leo said, earning him a vicious glare. “The castle will be safe now. Most of the Hoshidans are gone, and I’ve organised security patrols. Go on.”

Odin nodded solemnly, further protests being smothered by the lump forming in his throat. It took a minute of quiet coaxing, but Selena eventually relented, allowing Odin to gently pull her from Laslow.

“And don’t worry about rising early. Take your time.” Leo gave a reassuring nod.

They left with one last glance, unspoken words hovering with the dust in the air.

***

   They were silent the whole way back to their chambers. Artifacts of the invasion littered the halls. Everywhere Odin looked a painful reminder. Selena ghosted beside him, eyes glazed and steps slow. Odin was submerged in a horrid sensation. He saw, heard, smelled and felt the world around him, yet the persistent, nagging feeling of something lost pervaded his thoughts.

Before long they stood at the door to Selena’s room. “I guess this is you.” Odin croaked. He stopped a mere step away. He turned to see Selena, head low, weakly gripping his sleeve.

“Please.” Her voice was tiny and strained. “Don’t leave me.”

He allowed her to lead him into her room, for he truly did not wish to leave her, terrified she would vanish as well. He stopped just inside the door to look about her room. It was small and simple, yet heavily decorated, almost lavishly. Coloured carpets filled the floor, while all manner of trinkets dotted any surface that was unattended. He almost laughed thinking of how crammed her wardrobe would be. Safe to say, it was definitely Selena.

A clang jolted him from his musings. Selena stood in the centre of the room, her shield haphazardly dropped. With slow, lethargic movements, she pulled her gambeson off, the heavy fabric pulling at her hair ties, which she discarded just as callously. Odin had half a mind to turn away when her chainmail came off, but instead of undressing further she flopped onto the bed. She struggled with the fastenings of her boots, fingers slipping with frantic movements. Odin couldn’t bear to watch as her breaths turned to whimpers. Quickly bending down, he helped her remove her boots. She tried to slap his hands away in protest, but relented, slumping her shoulders. Deciding she was sufficiently undressed, Selena lay down, absent-mindedly patting the mattress next to her. He removed his shoes and cape and joined her. It wasn’t a massive bed, but her small frame gave him enough room to lie beside her.

Silence hung between them, and in that silence floated their discordant thoughts. How had things gone so wrong so quickly?

Not for the first time that night, Odin wished he could undo what had been done. To turn back time like they had done all those years ago. Maybe even stop them from coming to this wretched world. He silenced his selfish thoughts and rolled over. Selena had her back to him. She made no sound, and were it not for the slight rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed, he’d fear her dead from grief. Not knowing how to proceed, Odin simply lay there. He tried several times to speak, each sentence lodged itself in his throat. He gave up, settling for one phrase.

“Goodnight, Severa.”

He was met with silence, though he did not blame her. It would not be a good night, nor would the next, or the one after. Why he used her old name, even he didn’t know. He settled into a position, sure he would get no answer.

“Goodnight. Owain.” The reply was so faint, Odin questioned if he heard right. But it was enough. He succumbed to exhaustion.

Chapter Text

   The throne loomed ominously over him.

Thorns stretched into the dark abyss above Leo as he studied every detail of the seat his father had sat upon for years. The room lay in disarray. Columns and rubble littered the spacious chamber like litter in an alley. The solid stone beneath him was cracked, evoking the same desolate feelings of the Nohrian wastelands. Scorches and scratches marred the surfaces of the room. And permeating it all were echoes of water droplets and the tingle of magic. Leo’s steps were heavy and burdened as he moved around the room, scattering tiny pieces of rubble with every step. Each mark added to the gruesome narrative he was forming of the battle that would have occurred. He wondered where Corrin had stood: whether she faced his father head on, hung back and sent her new family in, or snuck around and killed him from behind. Nothing would surprise him at this point. 

Not Father. Anankos.

He had to keep reminding himself that Garon was long dead, nothing more than a vessel for a creature he had never heard of. Were it not for the orb Azura had given him, he’d have never believed it. He should’ve known there was more to his father’s declining health. Leo had long considered him gone, but Xander and Elise didn’t. And now they too were dead. As much as he tried to remember that it was Xander’s own loyalty that blinded him and led to his death, a smaller, darker side of him could not help but lay the blame at Corrin’s feet. He heard footsteps behind him. Almost as if his musings had summoned her.

“I thought I asked you to get the Hoshidans out of the castle.” He did not turn to face her.

“They are. It’s just me now.” Corrin approached, laying a hand over his shoulder.

"Shouldn’t you be with your family?”

“You’re my family too. You and Camilla, regardless of blood. It felt wrong to just leave you here alone to pick up the pieces.”

He shook her hand off, turning to her. “I’d have thought by now you’d learned more.” He paused at her perturbed expression, but the sting in his heart kept the words flowing. "We've been picking the pieces up ever since you left.” He expected a retort, or a half-hearted apology. But all Corrin gave was a teary, sympathetic look that smothered the fire inside. “Sorry.” he muttered.

“It’s alright. There’s no denying the pain I’ve caused.”

He averted his gaze and resumed walking around the ruins of the room. “Looks like it was quite the battle.” He gazed down at a massive crevice in the ground. The stone looked as if it had burst from beneath. Wet wood and sediment resided within. He couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer destruction. “Anankos?” 

“Yes.” Corrin scanned the room with a haunted look. Like she was searching for something. “It was devastating.”

Leo cast his eyes up to the cracked effigy of the Dusk Dragon. “But he’s been dealt with. Yes?”

Corrin gave him a flat smile. “Yes. He’s gone. Azura made sure of that.”

The mention of Azura snapped his attention back to the present like a bucket of icy water to the face. It occurred to him that he hadn’t seen Azura at all since before they fought Xander. He’d easily write her off as dead, as much as such a thought sickened him, were it not for the fact that he hadn’t seen her body. The questions continued to pile up. “How did she manage that? And where is she anyway?”

Corrin opened her mouth to respond when a shadow in their peripheral vision caught their attention. Beruka stood in the entrance of the throne room, arms folded behind her, the parts of her face not obscured by shadow were stony. How long had she been standing there? "Beruka." Leo's tone came out strained. Her blank face and rigid stance unsettled him.

"Lord Leo." Beruka tilted her head. "Corrin." She shot an indecipherable look at her.

"What is it, Beruka?"

Beruka straightened herself. "Lady Camilla is awake, my Lord."

Leo's heart pounded. A growing dread began to gnaw at him. He cleared his throat before speaking. "What does she know?"

"Just that the war is over."

Of course. The dread flared into near panic.

"She wishes to see you."

"Me?" Leo asked incredulously.

Beruka considered her words. "Her family, my Lord."

Leo looked at Corrin. Through her eyes, he could tell she shared the same strained feeling in her chest. "Take us to her."

***   

   Camilla stared into the flickering flames of the fireplace, cold cloth pressed to her pounding head. Her nails clawing holes into the riding cloak she clutched around her. She tried to keep her breathing steady while she waited for Beruka to return.

I can’t believe it’s over. It’s finally over.

Beruka had recounted to Camilla the events of the night while she had lain there, bleary eyed and disoriented. Of how Corrin and the Hoshidans had infiltrated the castle, their battle, and that Corrin was successful in ending the war. The news was good, and yet Camilla was unsettled.

Am I simply grieving father? Maybe. Not that he’s given me much reason to. I know Beruka can be rather taciturn, but her tone seemed off. Like she was hiding something.

It was by Beruka’s insistence that Camilla remained in her room, watching the flames dance. Normally she’d write it off as her doing her job. Yet the way Beruka had fidgeted made Camilla’s stomach churn.

Beruka would have informed me if something had happened. Surely she would. So why did she seem so hesitant? And where is Selena? Beruka never said anything happened to Corrin, so that can’t be it…

A knock roused her. She was already half standing when Corrin and Leo shuffled into her room, followed by Beruka. “Corrin!” Camilla dropped the cloth, instinctively opening her arms as Corrin ran to her. Pain shot up her spine like a bolt of electricity as she embraced her, but it was worth it to be able to finally hold her as a sibling again. She took a moment to savour the feeling of hugging Corrin again, gripping her cape as if to anchor her to this plane of existence. Still, curiosity hovered over the reunion, the questions buzzing at the back of her mind. She reluctantly released her, cupping her face in her hands. "I'm so glad you're alright. Beruka tells me the war is over?"

Corrin nodded vigorously in response.

"So you're coming home, right?"

Corrin’s smile faded. Her hand was shaky as it held Camilla’s.

"What's wrong? The war is over, we can be a family again, right?" Her heart threatened to burst through her ribs. It got worse when Corrin began to cry. Panic began to creep in as a sickening realisation came to her. Where were the rest of her family? She looked between Corrin, Leo and Beruka. Her stomach dropped. Beruka had hidden something. And she had an inkling as to what it was. "Where's Xander? And Elise?"

Corrin broke down, her words spilling out as near incomprehensible babble. "I'm sorry Camilla, I'm so sorry, I tried to save them, I really did, but Xander wouldn't stop and Elise jumped in and, and-"

The pain from her heart seizing nearly made her faint. She desperately looked to Leo, who glanced away in guilt. The pressure in her head became blinding.

***

   The race to the Mausoleum was a blur. A miasma of grim shadows caused by blinding torchlight and sharp jolts of pain. Stumbling through the doors, Camilla gasped and panted as if she’d ran for days, despite the journey’s brevity. She clutched her head as she struggled to process the scene before her. There, laying on two stone benches were her precious siblings, Xander and Elise, skin as pale as the moonlight streaming in.

Denial and anguish mingled in the pit of her stomach, leaving her nauseous. Drawing a deep breath, Camilla approached Xander, the clicks of her boots sounding so far away. She stood over him, lightly running a finger over the numerous scratches and dents in his armour. It was strange looking down on him, Camilla never got that chance; Xander was always so tall and proud. It only added to the surging sense of abnormality. She bent down to his level. With his hair fixed by careful attendants, he almost seemed to sleep. But the way his skin sunk, colour drained from his lips and the dark spots forming further down confirmed the awful truth: Xander, the once strong pillar of the family, was dead.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.” She whispered forlornly. She reached for the thin crown that encircled his head. “If only you had’ve stopped being a prince, just for once.” She set the crown aside and entwined her fingers in his. They did not move. It should’ve felt wrong, yet it didn’t. Camilla did not know if it was because she too had begun to believe his ramblings, that his duty came before his well being, or if it was because his visage now matched how his eyes had looked for so many months now.
With a final squeeze of his hand, she stood and turned to Elise, stepping lightly to her. The whole room seemed to sway, nothing felt solid anymore. By the time she reached Elise, she had gone numb. She hardly recognised her as Elise. Her neat hair and dress along with her porcelain skin gave her the appearance of a freshly made doll. With that thought, it was hard to imagine that this was truly her little sister lying before her. Somewhere, in the distant recesses of her mind, obscured in the fog of grief, her muted reactions disturbed her. She knelt down, cupping her cheek and pressing their foreheads together.

“You silly little girl.” She heard herself say in a playfully admonishing tone. “What were you thinking?” A small smile crept onto her face. That’s when she saw the dried blood peek from below Elise’s collar.
She shouldn’t. Her mind screamed at her not to look. But the internal pleas were drowned out by the blood roaring in her ears, her shallow breaths and the bubbling urge that lowered her hand, gripped the collar and gently pulled.
She gasped and recoiled, hands flying to her mouth. No matter how much she screwed her eyes shut, the vision of the cavernous gash branded itself in her mind; deep crimson against bone white, pulled together by crude stitches. All at once her composure collapsed, the horrific reality bore down on her, drowning her in agony.

“Camilla!”

Her eyes flew open. She was barely aware of Corrin’s arms around her waist. She tore herself away from Elise, gasping, her gaze landing on Garon.

“You!"

Camilla stalked over to Garon, pulling herself from Corrin’s embrace. Ragged breaths poured from her like a predatory beast. “This is all because of you.” She slammed her fists on his armour, the sound ringing throughout the crypt. Sobs broke out as she clawed pathetically at his breastplate, as though she meant to rip him apart.

“I hope it was worth it.” She sobbed. A small hand gently rubbed her back, beckoning her from the corpse.

“Camilla.” Corrin’s voice sounded distant. “Let’s get out of here. Let’s go back to the castle.”

Camilla remained rooted to the spot, unable to look away from Garon’s wretched carcass. She was fixated on the leathery folds of his skin, the frazzled hairs of his beard, the dark blotches that marred his face and his sunken eyes. It was as if the very muscles below had melted away, looking more like a sick puppet than a real person.
There was nothing left of Garon, nothing left to answer for the pain and suffering he had wrought. The thought he would never face punishment for his actions was almost insulting. How cruel the fates were; to take her darling siblings from her, while sparing this wretched, detestable waste of skin from retribution. The indignation was overpowering, welling up within her. This was an affront.
Corrin tried to pull her away to no avail. Seething with an uncompromising fury, Camilla lashed out, seizing a nearby lantern and smashing it against Garon’s head with a blood curdling cry. The shattered glass dug into his face, the oils splattering over him as the flames ignited his hair.

Camilla succumbed to the pain, falling to her knees, supported by Leo and Corrin. Heartbroken and held by the last of her fragmented family, she could do nothing else but wail as the flames slowly consumed his body.

Chapter Text

   Selena lay limp on the bed, squinting against the harsh morning light, her eyes sticky from tears that had long since dried. Her arm had fallen asleep beneath her, tingling and aching. Her head pounded like a hammer on an anvil, and her throat stung as if she’d swallowed glass. She made no attempt to move. What was the point? There was no more fighting to be done. No mission to complete. And no Laslow to greet her with that infuriatingly bright smile; the kind of smile reserved for her...

Sheets rustled and the bedframe creaked, reminding her she was not alone. She pulled her head to look over her shoulder. Odin sat on the edge of the bed, fingers laced and shoulders sagged. She had half a mind to roll over and go back to sleep. Instead she pulled herself to a sitting position. She let out a sigh of resignation, and then one of disgust as she drew in the odour of sweat and blood from her clothes.

Odin turned to her, giving an earnest attempt at a smile. “Good Morning.” he said with a croaky voice.

“Morning.” she rasped. The word itself left a bad taste in her mouth.

“How are you feeling?”

Selena contemplated her answer. A snide comeback pried at her lips before being swallowed. He doesn’t deserve that. “Shit.” she settled on. The air buzzed between them, the pressing question screaming to be noticed. She ignored it out of spite.

It shouldn’t be this quiet. We should’ve been home by now. We should’ve been celebrating with our friends.

Odin cleared his throat. “So. What now?”

“What do you mean?” Selena blinked at him.

“Well, where do we go from here?”

She stared aghast. “What kind of question is that? Home obviously.”

“So soon?”

“What else is there? The mission’s finished.” She shrugged.

“What of our lieges? Should we not check on them?”

Selena paused. She remembered Camilla lying unconscious in her room. “...Maybe.” She shivered, assuring herself it was from the cold. Last thing she would have remembered is the battle. Oh gods, she won’t know about Xander or Elise. Fuck.

Odin cleared his throat, drawing her from a trance she didn’t realise she was in. “Hey, are you okay?”

Selena snapped back to the present. “D-don’t ask such stupid questions.” She threw the covers off her and made for her vanity, her head swimming from the sudden exertion. She grabbed a brush and started vigorously tidying her hair, attempting to distract herself from the mounting apprehension, or her sorrowful eyes staring back in a way that made the hairs of her neck stand. Her reflection in the mirror looked repulsive. “I take it you don’t want to leave?” she said, the silence unbearable.

Odin took a while to answer. “Not yet. I feel Lord Leo will need me. And I want to make sure Anankos is truly dead.”

“Oh fuck Anankos.” She whirled on him, mouth running faster than her thoughts. “Fuck the mission and fuck this world!”

Odin wilted beneath her glare. “But we made a promise to him. Shouldn't we see it to the end?”

A promise?!” Her voice cracked, her chest twisting to the point that it made her wince. “We came to this godforsaken world, because of his promise. We were dragged into someone else’s war, because of his promise. We haven’t seen our friends and families for years, because of him and his fucking promise.” She spoke with such venom that it brought tears to her eyes. Her eyes fell to the floor as her voice broke. “Laslow made a promise too: a promise that we’d go home together; all of us.” She fought with herself to keep her brow from furrowing, struggling to keep herself from crying again. “So why did he break that promise, huh? Why isn’t he with us? With me?"

Try as she did, however, Selena’s voice caught in her throat as she began hyperventilating. Odin all but leapt off the bed and rushed to her, wrapping her in an embrace that she was too exhausted to refuse. She rested her head against his chest, hot tears stinging her cheeks. Odin managed to keep himself steady, until he heard Selena’s voice, small and shaking.

“Why, Owain? Why does everyone I love leave me behind? Why can’t I protect them?” She knew it was unreasonable to blame Laslow for the way things turned out, let alone everyone else, but the void he left behind invoked a familiar loneliness and spite that permeated her thoughts.

“Don’t say such things. Just breathe.” Odin’s voice was calming, distracting.

Selena secretly relished in the warmth and stability of his embrace. For comfort, he was all she had left. Before long, her breaths slowed to a regular pace, and her rage died down to a simmer.

“If it helps,” Odin said, “At least you still have Odin Dark!”

As poorly timed such a sentence was, even Selena was unable to prevent a small scoff from escaping her. Although she consequently pulled away from him, that hint of amusement was close enough to a “thank you” that Odin took no offence.
Selena wiped away her tears, rubbing her bleary eyes. Her small breakdown had alleviated the pressure in her chest and cleared her thoughts, but left her mind empty to a new, nagging question. “Why don’t you want to go home?”

Odin’s jaw clenched as he mulled over his response, his eyes shifting while he tried to sort out his discordant thoughts. His voice came out little more than a whisper. “I don’t think I can face them right now.”

The pressure in her chest returned as quickly as it had dissipated. In her haste to reunite with their friends, she had yet to consider how to tell them of Laslow’s death. Or their reactions. A creeping dread wormed its way through her, leaving her feeling tiny. Insignificant. The prospect of leaving suddenly seemed less appealing. Perhaps she was moving too fast, too eager to distance herself from the pain. “Now that you mention it… I’m not sure I can either. Maybe we’ll stay… just for a little while.”

“You mean..?” Odin’s face brightened, if only a little.

She sighed as the embers of her willpower flickered out. “We’ll fulfil our duties to our lieges. Then we’ll leave.” She averted her eyes. While she would have preferred to leave immediately, Odin’s point gave her pause. “You get going, I need to change.”

“You’ll be alright without me? I can wait outside.”

She bit her lip to stop herself from snapping at him. The tears were coming back. “Just go, I’ll be fine.” She straightened herself up in an attempt to appear composed.

Odin’s brow was knotted in concern, but he nodded anyway. "Alright. Alright." He patted her shoulders gently before fixing his cape and making his way to the door. Hand on the knob, he looked back. "I'll see you later then?"

Selena regretted looking him directly in the eyes. From this distance he looked just as wretched as she did. His expression was forlorn, searching and scared. She couldn't manage a quip, not with the hole in her that threatened to bring her to her knees. She gave him the confirmation he sought.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll see you later." With a stiff smile, Odin left, the door clicking quietly. Selena let out a sigh. To counter the deafening silence, she quickly resumed brushing her hair, loosely tying them into twin tails and throwing on a new tunic. She reached for a pair of gloves, her eyes falling on her wedding ring, left on the vanity so nothing would happen to it during battle. She stared at the golden band for a mere moment before collapsing on her vanity.

***

   The winding halls of the castle had long stopped being a hindrance to Odin. He had wasted no time in memorising the various twists and turns when he first arrived in Nohr, and found great pleasure in discovering the many hidden tunnels and passages that bored through the castle. It was much like in the stories he had heard as a young boy; of daring heroes braving labyrinthian fortresses. Slipping into one such passage, they no longer provided excitement, but relief. He could traverse the castle, away from sympathetic eyes, left alone to his thoughts.

“So why did he break that promise?”… How could she say that about him?

Selena's words shouldn't bother him as much as they did.

She’s just in shock. That’s all.

Still, reducing Laslow's death to just a broken promise felt like a twist of the knife. He kept a hand on the wall of the passage, passively listening to anyone who may be outside. It all felt so dream-like. This time yesterday, the three of them were finalising the plan to aid Corrin. Even with the cloud of tension that hung over them at the time, they still managed to laugh and find levity. Now his friend lay in a crypt. In the shadows of the tunnel, he allowed himself to weep openly. Afterimages of Laslow’s strained smile floated in the darkness, searing itself into his memories. It was inconceivable, that after all their fighting and careful planning, Laslow was dead. Straining from the grief, his mind wandered to Selena. He could scarcely imagine the scale of her pain. He may not have been present when her mother died, but he heard the stories. He shuddered to think how this would affect her. She and Laslow had been hesitant to marry before the war ended, only relenting after gentle persuasion from their respective lieges and the ever present fear they may not make it. Seems they were right to worry.

I’ll need to keep an eye on her. She’ll hate me for it, but better than sinking into misery.

He reached the end of the tunnel. Certain there was no one outside, he wiped his eyes and slid the hidden door across, coming out behind an ornate suit of armour. A small smirk formed. Maybe there was still some pleasure to be derived from the tunnels after all. Leo's study was a few doors down. Another wave of apprehension washed over him as he considered his lord. Leo was distraught, however much he had tried to hide it. How he would be now, he knew not. Voices could be barely heard inside. Squaring his shoulders, Odin knocked. The voices went silent. The door opened with a tiny squeak and a tuft of white hair shone through.

"Odin? You're up earlier than I expected." Niles spoke with a soft voice. "How are you faring?"

"I'm fine Niles," said Odin, voice raspy.

Niles went to reply when a sharp voice cut through the room. "Odin? I thought I told you to rest."

Odin winced at the tone but persevered. Niles gave a reserved sigh and allowed him in. The room was thick with the smell of melted wax, cindered wicks smoked on the shelves. Leo sat at his desk, all but obscured by papers and spent candles. He had an ashen pallor and his eyelids were heavy. There was no way he had slept. Niles returned to his desk, picking up the papers he had obviously dropped. Odin squared up beneath Leo’s glare. "To be fair, Milord, you never made it a direct order." He said with a forced smile.

Odin feared his attempt at levity had failed as Leo glared at him. Until he dropped his gaze with a sigh. "I suppose I didn't. Still, I wanted you to rest."

"And I am thankful for your concern, Milord. But my duty is to you."

Leo fixed him with a strange look, a mix of gratitude and confusion. His mouth hung open, words dancing on his tongue yet held back. "Thank you, Odin." The rest of the sentence hung in the air. Odin stood patiently waiting for Leo to continue. As the silence stretched on, he quickly realised Leo’s focus had drifted off. He was staring absentmindedly off to the side. Odin noted how red his eyes still were, the twitching of the corner of his lip and the almost imperceptible shaking of his hands. It reminded him painfully of Lucina trying to hold herself together in the face of another loss to the Risen. A loud rustling from Niles in the back brought them both back to reality.

Odin cleared his throat. “So, what would you ask of me, Milord?”

Leo regarded him as if he were mad. “I understand your devotion, but given the circumstances, I am hesitant to place any further burden on you.”

“It is true that I… grieve for Laslow.” Simply saying that nearly choked Odin. “But as your retainer, I cannot allow my pain to override my duty. He is not the first friend I have lost, I’ve learned to cope.” He added with a tilted smile.

“And… you would be able to fulfil that duty? So soon after the event, even feeling what you do?”

Odin shrugged. “Maybe, having something to focus on could be good for me.”

At this, Leo stood and made his way around the desk, his eyes darting around in thought. “In that case, I do have something in mind. Follow me. Niles, keep working on the funeral arrangements.”

They left Niles in the room as they exited. Leo led Odin through the halls at a brisk pace, his back so straight and rigid that Odin reckoned a stiff breeze would snap it. They continued in silence, making their way to the eastern wing, towards the tower of the mages. They soon stood outside a chamber sealed with large oaken doors. Simply looking at the doors caused Odin to shiver.

“I feel it too.” Leo didn’t look back.

“A dark aura clings to this place.” Odin looked over the intricate carvings of the doors as if to decipher them. “What is it?”

At this Leo turned to him, his expression dark. “These are Iago’s chambers.”

“Iago’s? For what purpose do we come here, Milord?”

“I suppose now that the war is over, there is no reason to keep you in the dark.” Leo pushed the door open and allowed Odin in. The chamber was colder inside. Everything from the walls to the curtains to the bedsheets seemed tinted with a teal glow. “Iago was responsible for the creation of the Faceless, as well many other atrocities during the war. But that’s not even scratching the surface of his vile activities. Iago wasn’t just a sorcerer in my father’s employ. He was the servant of some dark creature. I believe its name was Anankos.”

Odin nearly choked. So that’s what the orb showed him. If he knows of Anankos, what else does he know? Should I reveal my part? He glanced at Leo, who had his back turned to him, fidgeting with a stack of tomes. No, he doesn’t need any more shocks just yet.

“Working for such an entity, I have no doubts Iago was gifted with arcane knowledge to aid him in whatever schemes he worked towards. I intend to sort through the magic tomes and artifacts he left behind. Anything of use we’ll keep. The rest we burn.”

Odin whirled around so fast he slammed his elbow against the post of the bed. “M-milord? Are you sure about that?” He rubbed his aching elbow.

“I understand your reluctance, Odin.” Leo picked up a black leather tome and lazily flicked through its pages. “I too am reluctant to so willfully destroy knowledge, however dark it may be. But I cannot guarantee that Iago did not have associates who may try to continue his work. My sister will be queen soon, but she will need my help. She does not have a political mind, never has really. She dropped politics the moment her mother died. As such, I will need to guide her, which limits the time I have to sort through all this.” Leo tossed the tome onto the desk with a deep thump. He walked over and grasped Odin’s shoulder with the closest thing to a hard expression he’d had all morning. “Odin, you are one of the only people I can trust, and you have a phenomenal grasp on magic. I can think of no one more suited to the task.”

Leo’s toned stirred something within Odin. Trust was never something Leo lacked with him, yet this felt more momentous, more intimate.

Even with the death of his siblings, Lord Leo still puts the Kingdom first. And he trusts me to aid him.

The notion sparked a small ember of pride within Odin. “Milord, you honour me. I shall work tirelessly to uncover the forbidden arcana of Iago.”

“There’s no need to go quite so hard, but I appreciate it.” Leo said with a ghost of a smile, dropping his hand. He lifted his head, surveying the rest of the room. “Still, I am not convinced that Iago hasn’t hidden other artifacts, be it with magic or simple trickery. As such, I'll need you to search every crevice of this room, test every magical hypothesis to uncover any charms, make sure that every trace of Iago’s machinations are gone. I realise this is a heavy task, especially right now. Can I count on you?” His voice quivered with poorly concealed concern.

“Absolutely, Milord.” Odin nodded resolutely.

For the first time that morning, Leo gave him a genuine smile. “Then let's waste no time.”

***

   The door whined as Selena emerged into the hall. She did not stop it from slamming against the stone wall, causing those passing by to shrink back. She ignored them.

Focus. Just get to Lady Camilla.

With shaky hands and blurred vision, she fumbled with locking her room, the key seemingly sticking inside, prompting a slam from her. Selena turned after managing to lock the door; a few of the inhabitants stared at her with pitiful expressions. Her face grew hot and her breath shook. “Don’t you all have something better to be doing?” She stormed off before anyone could reply. Her head pounded with each furious step. She clenched her teeth in a bid to stop her lip from wobbling.

What the fuck are you doing? She berated herself as old habits welled up.

Stupid girl. What good will bottling it up do? Everyone knows you were married, no one would care if you cried.

But she would. Not because she didn't want to show emotion, but because she refused to have her capabilities questioned. Right now, her duty to Camilla was her main priority. It was all she had left to focus on. So she doggedly held herself together.
Before she knew it, she stood outside Camilla's room. The energy expended in making her way down left her legs weak and eyes heavy. She hesitated to make her presence known, wanting nothing more than to sink down, to hide away.

Gods only knows how she’s going to react.

She swallowed, raised a hand and knocked. She flinched as the door opened an inch, a pale face and teal hair greeted her. Beruka quickly dropped her guard and opened the door to Selena, revealing the darkness inside. She stood there, hand poised to shut the door, clearly unsure of what to say. Feeling another wave of tears coming, Selena quickly broke the silence. “Has Lady Camilla woken yet?”

“She did earlier, though she’s asleep now.” Beruka looked back at the shadowy mass barely visible on the bed.

“Does she know?”

Beruka looked Selena in the eyes. “Yes.”

Selena took a deep breath to stem her annoyance. Beruka responded as if giving a patrol report. Not to mention she hadn’t asked how Selena was doing. It was as if Beruka were wholly detached from reality. “Is she alright?”

"Who is it, Beruka?" Camilla's voice came from the dark, making them both freeze. It was weak and wet, shaking with a brittle constitution that threatened to break any second. The sound made Selena’s heart seize. She shoved past Beruka and hurried to the bedside. She looked down on the crumpled heap swathed in blankets, hair splayed over the strewn pillows. Camilla didn’t stir at her arrival. Her soft breaths were the only indication she was alive.

Selena leant down. “Lady Camilla.”

Camilla stirred. "Corrin?” her tone lifted. “Is that you Corrin?"

"No Lady Camilla. It’s me, Selena."

Camilla rolled over. Her face appeared haggard and sunken, almost deathly in the limited light. She stared blankly. "Selena?” Camilla pulled herself forward, reaching out to cup Selena’s cheek. “Selena. Darling Selena."

A smile of relief crept onto Selena’s face. "Yes Lady Camilla, I'm right here." She leant into Camilla’s hand.

The hand began to slip away, trembling. "Elise… She's…. She's…." Camilla’s words were drowned in fresh sobs.

"I know. I'm so, so sorry."

Camilla all but fell on Selena, wrapping her arm around her in a tear stained chokehold. Selena shifted her to a more comfortable position, cradling her head. She was an inconsolable mess. Her sobs were anguished, fueled by pain that dwarfed Selena’s. Holding her trembling mistress, bearing the full weight of her heartache, it became clear that she would receive little comfort from Camilla, not in this state. To support Camilla, Selena would have to become her pillar of strength. So she pushed past the ache in her heart, pushed aside the memories of Laslow, and focused purely on Camilla.

"It's alright, I'm here. I'm right here." Selena whispered to her.

Chapter Text

   The news of the invasion rippled through the capital that morning. Many a sigh of relief wafted through the streets and down the alleys as the tyranny of the Lost King Garon came to an end, with many taking to the streets to celebrate the war’s end. The castle was strikingly different. Silence choked the empty halls, the stale air carried the lingering questions of what was to come. Though the Hoshidans had left the castle, the Nohrians still gripped their weapons tight, eyes darting about. While the castle staff shuffled about cautiously, Camilla slumped in a chair, blankly staring while Selena brushed her hair and styled it in a loose but neat ponytail.

"There, all done." Selena said, clicking the last hair pin in place.

Camilla pulled her gaze up to meet the mirror. In its glass slouched a drowsy wretch of a woman, blood-shot eye lazily staring back. Her appearance was only saved by a fine black tunic, adorned with jewels and a royal purple sash. Yet, as they brought her image closer to that of a true Queen, she felt only disgust for this ghastly thing, trying to pass itself off as her reflection

"Hey come on, don't cry, you'll ruin the makeup."

Her reflection was mercifully blocked by Selena sitting in front of her, dabbing a stray tear with a cloth. "Sorry." Camilla whispered.

Selena's mouth pulled into a grim line, eyes shining with pity. "It's fine." She lay a hand on Camilla's wrist. "Good thing I'm so good with makeup, huh?"

"Yes." Camilla replied absently. "It does look good." She added when Selena deflated. A sliver of light bounced off the mirror as the door opened.

"Lady Camilla? They're ready." Beruka called from the door.

Camilla clawed the dress fabric over knees, hands trembling. Weariness and her injuries alone stopped her from reaching for her axe. It was only peace talks, she reminded herself. So why did it feel like an execution?

"You'll be fine, Lady Camilla." Selena squeezed her wrists.

Camilla took a breath and stood. Selena strained to fit the flowing Cape over her shoulders, standing tip toe to fasten the clips. With reassuring nods from her retainers, she stepped into the hall.

***

   "Where is she?" Leo's eyes flicked between the halls and the door into the meeting room. His ears strained every time he heard the Hoshidans inside talk.

"Relax, Milord," said Niles, twirling a quill in his hand. "She will be here in her own time. The Hoshidans will wait."

The door cracked open and Corrin slid through. "Is everything alright? Everyone's ready to start."

"We're just waiting on Camilla. I'm sure she'll be here in a minute," said Leo.

"Maybe I should go see her. She's probably stewing over this meeting."

"Can you blame her?" His tone came out more terse than he intended.

Before Corrin could reply, Camilla appeared, listlessly descending the stairs, the hem of her cape dragging. Her blank stare contrasted frighteningly with her neat hair and exquisite dress of black and gold. Flanking her were her retainers, clad in sharp, mauve tunics. A far cry from their usual battle gear.

Corrin trotted up to Camilla, pulling her into an embrace she hungrily reciprocated. Leo stood there with his hands behind his back, unsure where to look. The simmering vitriol emmenating from Beruka and Selena especially was unsettling. He resolved to study the wood grain of the door until she was ready.

“Are they already here?” Camilla glanced nervously at the door.

“They are. They’re just getting themselves ready.” Corrin gave her a reassuring squeeze on the wrist.

“I haven’t kept them waiting too long. Have I?”

“Not at all. They just arrived really.”

“Besides, you are the Crown Princess now.” Leo interjected. “And as this is your kingdom, they will wait for you as long as you see fit.”

Camilla nodded, eyes downcast, fingers fidgeting. She sighed. “Let's get this over with.”

“Don’t stress Camilla, You have my support.”

“And I will act as a mediator between the two kingdoms. So don’t worry about them asking too much.” Corrin chirped. After a moment of composure, Camilla squared her shoulders and entered the meeting room.

***

   The meeting room was already buzzing with hushed chatter and fidgeting. A large mahogany table dominated the middle of the room, a table cloth stretched down its middle, dividing the two parties with a wall of fruits and wine.
A high backed chair with a black frame and crimson leather sat in the centre of one side, denoting Camilla’s position. Surrounding the rest of the table were numerous smaller chairs and their occupants. Across from Camilla’s position sat Ryoma, lacking his signature headpiece, but otherwise still fully armoured. He was conversing quietly with a man of considerably smaller stature, spectacled eyes framed by green hair. To his left sat a woman Leo recognised as a rebel from Cheve. Niles took a seat beside Camilla's spot, quill already dancing over parchment as he prepared the notes for the meeting. The presence of Ryoma’s ninja did not go unnoticed, nor did the tension of Camilla’s own retainers behind them.

“Princess Camilla. Prince Leo.” Ryoma stood, bowing to each of them.

“That’s Crown Princess Camilla.” Leo corrected.

Ryoma blinked, stunned by the swift correction. He stuttered trying to regain his lost ground, much to Leo’s amusement. “My apologies, Crown Princess Camilla.”

“Lord Ryoma.” Camilla answered with a stilted nod. “And… My apologies, I don’t believe we’ve met” she said regarding the people beside him.

“This is Yukimura.” Ryoma gestured to the green haired man. “My Mother’s retainer and tactician of Hoshido.” Yukimura gave a deep yet stiff bow.

Leo bristled at Yukimura’s title. That’s all I need. Another tactician to deal with.

“And this is Scarlet, Leader of the Chevoix resistance.”

“We’ve met briefly before. In Cheve.” Scarlet added, her tone of defiance not lost to Leo.

“A pleasure.” Camilla forced. Camilla and Leo took their respective seats. Corrin made her way to a seat that sat at the head of the table, between the two sides.

"You have my gratitude for meeting with us, Your Highness." Ryoma took his seat again, accepting a wine goblet supplied by a maid.

"I don't suppose I had much choice in the matter." Camilla replied, eye glazed.

“It’s less a matter of choice and more a case of necessity. We can reconvene if it’s easier for you, though I do emphasize the importance of this meeting.”

Camilla sighed. “You need not preach the importance of this meeting to me. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“I understand this must be difficult for you-”

“Lord Ryoma, the last thing I remember before falling unconscious was my sister promising we’d be a family again. Only to wake up to a world where the battle is lost and my family lies slaughtered. Don’t place your hands on my shoulders, hands red with their blood, and tell me you understand.” Camilla snapped, voice trembling. Leo lightly gripped her wrist in a gesture of comfort. It was shaking.

Instantly recognising his blunder, Ryoma bowed, his forehead nearly touching the dark wooden table. “Forgive my lack of tact. It was not my intention to be insensitive.”

“Pay me no mind.” Camilla dismissed, reaching for a wine bottle and pouring herself a drink.

“Then let us proceed. We have much to discuss.” Ryoma straightened himself. Leo cast a look at Corrin.

“The terms of our surrender, I presume.” Camilla brought the goblet to her lips.

“Nothing of the sort.” Ryoma shook his head. “These are peace talks, not conditions of surrender. You stand to benefit from them as well.”

Camilla made a strange sputtering noise in her goblet. Leo could not tell if she had laughed or choked. “And what exactly do we gain?”

“As High Prince and soon to be King of Hoshido, I pledge to secure trade with Nohr and share our resources to aid in recovery.”

It was their turn to be stunned. Last Leo remembered, Hoshido would sooner erect barriers than trade with Nohr. Especially after the murder of their King. Yet the son of that same King was now offering to help their kingdom.

Camilla was the first to break the silence. “That is a frightfully generous offer. What brought this on?”

Ryoma looked to Corrin, who gave him a reassuring smile. “In the admittedly brief time I’ve spent in Nohr, I’ve since learned of its strife; namely the sheer scale to which it's been impacted by poverty and famine. Hoshido lives in abundance, more than we can conceivably handle. It makes me wonder, did our isolationist policies contribute to and even cause the war? Had we known the state of things here could we have ended the war early? Or even outright prevent it? I can’t undo what’s been done, but I hope that, in fostering trust and trading now, we can heal from the conflict and fix the divide between our Kingdoms."

"Such a passionate declaration." Camilla swirled her wine. "And the price?"

"Naturally there are issues that need to be addressed before we can begin fostering these relations. We've drafted a list of conditions. Yukimura will read it out."

Kind of you to allow us time to draft terms. Leo simmered. His ire was inflamed by Yukimura producing a rolled piece of parchment.

"Our four points of contention.” Yukimura announced with an inflection that made Leo wince.

“Maybe it’ll be better if we take this one at a time.” Corrin cut in, gaze trained on Camilla. “After all, nothing’s set in stone. Let’s not overwhelm anyone with lists.” She threw a glare at Yukimura at the last sentence. She continued once he relented. “Now then, we kindly ask Nohr to relinquish all Hoshidan territory gained during the war, as well as release any prisoners and withdraw your troops.”

Camilla waved her hand "Of course. We'll relinquish what was taken during the war."

"Up to, but not including the bottomless canyon.” Leo cut in. “And we'll exchange our Hoshidans prisoners for your Nohrian prisoners."

Ryoma was quick to nod, a welcome sign. "Very well. Now then, for our second point, we ask for your aid in eradicating the bands of rogue Faceless roaming the countryside."

“The rogue Faceless?" Camilla cast a quizzical look at Leo.

"The Faceless obeyed Iago above all others, since he created them. It would seem without their master, they’ve been left to wander.” Leo explained. He turned his attention to Ryoma. “You really intend for us to handle them all?"

Corrin piped up. "We can handle them as far as Fort Jinya. But our forces are too small to deal with the ones in the countryside."

Leo shook his head, sighing. "You're sending mixed signals. You want us out of Hoshido, yet you want us to deal with these Faceless."

"We want you to clean up the mess you've made of our land.” Yukimura tapped impatiently on the parchment. “You can redirect your troops to take them out as they retreat."

Leo reached for an apple in a bit to distract himself from snapping back. He had no intention of allowing Yukimura to dictate the situation. "No. We will assemble a dedicated task force to handle them."

"That would be a waste of time and resources. What would that look like to the people of Hoshido?"

"What it would look like, is a formerly aggressive Kingdom taking a vested interest in the well-being of its new allies.” Leo bit into the apple, eye trained on Yukimura the entire time.

Corrin hummed in contemplation. “It may be for the best. The Nohrian soldiers are likely tired as well. Yes, it may take a little longer, but at least we can guarantee well rested and well equipped soldiers to handle them.”

Yukimura opened his mouth to retort. He was silenced by Ryoma raising his hand. “I approve of these concessions.”

“Then the matter is closed.” Camilla spoke sharply. “Next?”

“During the war, King Garon made a deal with Kotaro, the Daimyo of Mokushu. They sought to use Nohr’s influence to help topple us, and have committed numerous war crimes in the meantime. We ask that you sever your connection to them so that we may see justice done.” Ryoma explained.

"By all means, I want nothing to do with the little pests." Camilla shrugged.

"Hold on, Camilla.” Leo cut in, ignoring the glares he was getting. “Nohr has formed an alliance with Mokushu. I doubt it would bode well if we sever that connection so readily."

"The deal was made with Kotaro. He had no children or heir apparents, the deal died with him." said Corrin.

"That isn't how alliances are formed.” Leo shook his head, trying not to lose his patience. “They're made between the sovereign powers at hand. They don't end just because one leader dies. If we sever ties with them so suddenly, as well as cede them to Hoshido, we risk retribution.”

“I understand your concern, Prince Leo.” Ryoma assured, voice soft and even. “But Mokushu has been a thorn in our side for quite some time. This is an issue that goes beyond the war, and one we wish to deal with. I assure you, in exchange we will protect Nohr from any retaliation.”

“Just let them have it, Leo.” Camilla sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Leo shot her a look that went unnoticed. Those ninja had no honour to begin with. They’d turn on us as quickly as they did Hoshido. With no leg to stand on, Leo acquiesced. “Fine. Only if you can guarantee no consequences.”

“You have my word.” Ryoma bowed.

“How noble of you. That’s everything, yes?” Camilla glared, her nails tapping like talons. It wasn’t a question.

“Not quite, your majesty.” Scarlet spoke for the first time that meeting. Camilla’s fingers curled into a fist. ”I am here on behalf of the Duke of Cheve and with the support of Lord Ryoma to request that you relinquish Nohr’s hold on Cheve and grant it independence.”

Camilla paused, stunned by the request. “That is a tremendous ask.” A sentiment Leo shared. “And you support this, Lord Ryoma?”

Ryoma shifted in his chair, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. “Cheve has been invaluable in ending the war. I have been amongst its people and heard their plight. I do support them.”

“Cheve is Nohrian territory.” Leo objected. “Relinquishing conquered Hoshidan lands is one thing, but Nohrian territory is another.”

“Nohr’s grip has been slipping. With Garon dead, it's hold is all but gone. You no longer have power over us.” Scarlet raised her voice. Leo tensed.

“We have an army.” Camilla spat. The sudden vitriol that poured from her stunned everyone into silence. “The largest in the land.” She glared at Scarlet with restrained fury, sitting straight and rigid. “Do not forget, the only reason this war is over is because I will it so. Do not give me a reason to change my mind.”

Bloody hell Camilla.

The room fell silent save for the scratching of Niles’ quill. Camilla’s hands trembled, despite gripping the edge of the table.

Corrin stood, the scraping of the chair drawing everyone’s attention. “Perhaps we should take a short recess.”

“Yes, I think that will be for the best.” Ryoma was quick to agree, throwing warning glances at Yukimura and Scarlet. “We’ll reconvene in ten minutes.”

Ryoma braced himself to stand, but Camilla was already hurrying out of the room. Sparing no glance to the Hoshidans, Leo followed her. He found her just outside, pacing, clawing at her hair with frightening ferocity. Selena and Beruka hovered nearby, drawn to her plight yet repelled by her simmering anger, brows furrowed in uncertainty. Leo gave them a gentle but authoritative nod, dismissing them.

“Camilla I know this is hard, but I need you to pull yourself together.”

“She should not have spoken to you like that.” Camilla snarled, “She had no right to speak to you like that.”

“Of course not.” Leo affirmed, softening his voice to calm Camilla. “But what’s most important now is getting through these negotiations so we can officially end this war. We can’t do that if we’re at each other’s throats. Don’t worry about what she says to me. A rebel's opinion means nothing to a prince.”

Camilla huffed, leaning against a pillar. “I don’t see why we can’t just give it to them. We don’t need them, and if it’ll shut them up, then all the more reason.”

“Yes, but you’re not thinking of the potential implications. It’s not about needing them, it’s about presentation. If we give territories independence on whim, more will clamour for it. Too many break away and we risk becoming vulnerable.”

Camilla’s head fell into her hands. Muffled whimpers could be heard. “Then what do you suggest?”

Leo grimaced. Camilla was slipping. The temptation to call the meeting early gnawed at him. It pained him having to try and convince her to keep going, when even he wanted to do nothing more than sleep. He lay a hand on her shoulder as his mind raced to come to a solution."Leave it to me Camilla, I have a plan on how to smooth things over.”

They were interrupted by Corrin’s surprisingly loud voice, coming from the meeting room. Leo smirked at the possibility that Corrin may be scolding her allies. He turned back to Camilla. “Do you trust me?"

She took a moment to compose herself. "With every fibre of my being."

"Then let us waste no more time."

Camilla hesitated by the door. “That rebel girl better keep her mouth shut.”

Leo laughed. “If she doesn’t we’ll have her flogged in the square later, how’s that?”

“Good.” she smirked, the first positive facial expression he’d seen today.

***

   "Thank you for waiting so patiently.” Leo addressed the Hoshidans as they reentered. He noted with a hint of smug satisfaction how rigid they were, the ways they held eye contact long enough to not appear rude before averting. “We have thought over your conditions, and have surmised a response I think you'll find reasonable."

"Pardon,” Yukimura ventured, voice soft and official. “Shouldn't the Crown Princess give the response?"

"My sister has given me permission to speak on her behalf. You disagree with her wishes?"

"My deepest apologies, your Majesty." Yukimura bowed deeply, a sight Leo could get used to.

"Given the state the land is in and the effects this war has had on us all, we believe direct independence as of now is impractical and impossible. But, acknowledging Cheve’s desire for independence and Nohr’s heavy-handed occupation, we offer instead diplomatic autonomy. We will withdraw all Nohrian troops, and repeal laws imposed since Nohr's occupation."

"So we would still be Nohrian territory?” Scarlet asked, crestfallen.

“In name mostly.” Leo confirmed. “Nohr needs Cheve’s knights. Cheve needs Nohr’s iron and protection.”

“Hoshido can provide us that.”

“I think not. If Cheve wants its independence so badly, then it can have it. From all territories.” Leo glanced at Ryoma, waiting for his response. “Cheve has to prove it can stand alone, without the aid of other kingdoms, if it wants true independence. Unless, Cheve lacks that ability, in which case, our offer of Diplomatic Autonomy stands.”

“Hoshido has put forward its aid already.” Scarlet declared, chin tilted in defiance.

“Really?” Leo turned on Ryoma. “You ask us to relinquish territory in good faith, and yet you encroach on Nohrian territory? And I thought Hoshido was known for its honour.”

Ryoma’s expression hardened. “You question our honour? You, whose King lay a trap that took my father, in the very city we are discussing? Who used our sister, whom you kidnapped, to assassinate our mother?”

“I don’t like your tone, Ryoma.” Camilla spoke with an air of menace. “Neither my brother nor I were responsible or complicit in my Father’s atrocities, so do not make us pay for them.”

“But you did inherit his Kingdom, and the debt he left.” Ryoma bit back, his composure eroding.

“Enough!”

Shock rippled through the room. Corrin stood, fists slammed on the table, eyes blazing. No one dared move or respond.

“This isn’t what we fought for. Elise, Xander and Azura didn’t die so you could bicker over the table like children and squander our only chance at unity; at peace.” She turned to Camilla and Leo. “I know how hard this is for you. My heart bleeds the same as yours. But there’s no denying the damage Garon wrought. No one can fix what he left behind. No one but you.”

She rounded on the Hoshidans. “And please, have some empathy for my siblings. They’ve been so good to me, even though life under Garon wasn’t pleasant. They were his pawns as much as I was. And now, after losing not one, but two beloved siblings, you expect them to just fix everything? Carry on like nothing happened? Remember how you felt after Mother died.”

Ryoma closed his eyes in thought, brow pinched. The fire within was gone when he reopened them. “Forgive me. Having lost family as well, I should’ve been more respectful.”

Camilla deflated, slumping into her chair and remaining silent. Leo responded for her.
“You’re right, this is our burden to bear. As unwelcome as it is. Our new alliance is more important than past wrongs. So then, how shall we compromise on Cheve?”

“I have a proposal.” said Corrin, a grateful smile forming.

“Then by all means, let’s hear it.” Ryoma responded with enthusiasm.

“Yes, I am eager to hear your thoughts.” Camilla whispered from her chair.

Corrin straightened up. “You know I want the best for all of us. If I could make everyone happy, I would. But I know that’s impossible, so we have to compromise. Hoshido has promised its aid, so we can’t renege on that promise. But Hoshido is so far away, and Leo is right; Cheve cannot stand on its own. I’m not sure anyone can right now. But why should they? Isn’t the whole point of this meeting to foster relations and bring our kingdoms together? We didn’t fight to end the war, just for things to go back to the way they were.

“So here’s what I’m thinking. Let's make Cheve the site of a new Accord. Make it the centrepoint of our alliance. Grant it diplomatic autonomy, but allow for a Hoshidan embassy. Let both kingdoms have a place within its walls. Let Cheve be the city that brings us together. I know it has painful memories for us all. Let us wash them away and start anew.”

Ryoma bowed his head in contemplation. “Hmm. I can see the benefits. Though it will take further discussions to work out the finer details. But if nothing else… It would be the first step to a proper alliance. Maybe an impartial trading hub for our kingdoms.”

“Yes. It may very well be the best course that’ll serve all of our interests.” Leo agreed. “We’ll need to discuss this with the Duke of Cheve.”

“I can speak on his behalf.” Scarlet huffed.

“If every decision could be made by soldiers we’d have no need for monarchs and diplomats. No, we will discuss this with the Duke. But if we are to do this, then I insist we do the same with Mokushu.”

“I would be willing to accommodate your request,” said Ryoma. “However, I would like to settle the matter with Cheve first. Test this idea there first before we stretch our resources to Mokushu.”

Leo made to argue, though was silenced by a look from Corrin. “I suppose that will suffice.”

“What say you, Your Majesty?” Ryoma asked Camilla.
Camilla raised her head, blinking as if roused from sleep. No one rushed her as she mulled it over. She looked to Corrin. “If you think this will work, Corrin, then I support your decision.”

Corrin beamed. Leo let out a sigh as the tension dissipated, grateful for Corrin’s intervention. Across the table, Ryoma had a weary but relieved smile of his own. “Then let us consider this matter settled.”

Chapter Text

   The funeral was held a few days later in the heart of Windmire; A dull and sombre affair accompanied by fittingly dark clouds. Selena stood rigidly, shivering in the cold, gaze unfocused; off in her own world. Camilla stood nearby, with Corrin and Leo by her side, but Selena barely registered their presence. The hundreds of soldiers and civilians that had come to mourn their lost royals may as well have been mountains in the distance for how blurred and undefined they were. She was aware of the funeral pyre behind her purely due to the shadow it cast, piled high with the fallen soldiers who had not been reclaimed for private burials. Unlike the crowd, her eyes were not drawn to the caskets where Xander, Elise and Garon lay, but to her feet. Laslow had already been interred in the crypts, apparently not important enough to warrant a place here.

Gentle winds rustled the onlookers as eulogies were delivered and praises sung for the soldiers who fought in the war, all of it lost to her. Despite the literal hundreds of people surrounding her, loneliness hung over her like a heavy cloak. She glanced up at Camilla. She was tense, propped up in the middle like some glorified statue. But at least she had her family beside her; what little family remained. Selena averted her eyes again when Corrin stepped forward to speak. She and the Hoshidans were meant to leave after the funeral, which suited Selena just fine.

The main procession came to an end when the pyre was lit, flooding the square with warmth and orange light. Members of the royal guard stepped forward to lift the caskets and begin the journey to the mausoleum. First went Garon’s casket, concealed by a ceremonial veil, then Xander’s, and finally Elise’s, carried by Effie and Arthur, both openly weeping. Selena followed Camilla, legs moving on their own. She became acutely aware of a presence beside her. Glancing over, she was met with Odin’s drooping eyes. He didn’t smile, nor speak, yet his thoughts were clear. The most she could give was a sigh, returning her eyes forward. His presence did not stave off the chill, but it meant she wasn’t alone. Which was something at least.

***

   After the caskets had been taken to the crypts, a journey witnessed as far as the viewing chamber of the mausoleum, a feast was held in the Great Hall. Nobles from throughout Windmire and Nohr had come to pay their respects, as well as gorge themselves on food. Long tables ran the length of the hall, piled high with meat, mead and vegetables, the origins of which Selena knew not.

She and Odin had been permitted a break from guarding their lieges. So they sat together at a table near the head of the room, a stone’s throw from the royals. Selena pushed away the plate before her. The chatter and smell of food did little more than mask what had happened in this very hall. She could almost see the red stains beneath the crowd. Almost smell the blood. It left her nauseous. Odin’s small talk had faded into the din. Selena so dearly wished to leave.

From where she sat, she could see Camilla, also not eating, inundated with disingenuous condolences from Nobles. Try as she might to maintain appearances, Camilla’s face could not hide the darkness in her eye. More than once Selena had seen her face flicker in annoyance. She was grateful when Leo leaned in to redirect the attention of a particularly talkative noble, giving Camilla some semblance of peace. Just as Selena was about to return to her cold plate, Camilla stood and promptly left the hall. Seizing the opportunity, Selena quickly but quietly followed. She found Camilla outside, leaning on the stone railing.

“Lady Camilla?” Selena tentatively approached. “Is everything alright?”

Camilla turned to her, eye already red and puffy. “I just need a moment.”

Selena glanced back at the sound of Beruka’s footsteps. “Getting a bit much, huh?”

“Nobles...” Camilla groaned. “Nagging, irritating, wretched little pests. Their incessant fawning grows tiresome. To not allow me a moment of mourning at my own family’s funeral, it’s insulting.” She gripped the railing in frustration. “If I am force-fed any more ‘deepest condolences’ tonight, I fear I may be sick.”

Selena clenched a fist. Camilla looked so frail, as if a gentle nudge may break her. The vacuous words of the nobles annoyed Selena enough as was. But seeing the effect it was having on Camilla made her tremble with rage.
“Shall we inform the guests you will no longer participate?” Beruka piped up.

Camilla lamely shook her head. “No. It’s expected of me.” she spat. “Leo would say as much.”

Selena hated this. Camilla curled against the railing like a frightened dog trying to avoid its master. She had half a mind to let loose on the guests. Hearing more footsteps, she whirled around, curse ready on her tongue, freezing when she saw Corrin.

“Is Camilla alright?” she ventured.

“Corrin?” Camilla perked up, standing to receive a hug. Corrin flitted past, leaving Selena and Beruka to look at each other, displaced.

“You left so suddenly. Is everything alright?” Corrin looked up from within the embrace.

“Just overwhelmed, my dear” Camilla sat on the railing, pulling Corrin’s hand with her. “You’re leaving soon. Aren’t you?”

Corrin nodded solemnly. “I’m afraid so.”

“Do you have to leave? Truly?”

“My men need to return home. And many Nohrians still hate me for what I did.”

“To hell with them.” Camilla flicked her wrist. “If they have a problem with you, I’ll deal with them personally.” The venom in her voice made Selena wince.

“I’m sorry Camilla.” Corrin cupped Camilla’s face in her hands. “I can’t. Not right now. But I can still visit, and you can visit us. And when things settle down, we can be a normal family again.”

“Normal.” Camilla’s head bowed in contemplation. When she raised it again, she had a look of resignation. “Can you at least spend a few more minutes with your sister? Before you leave me again?”

“Of course! I’m not due to leave for another few hours, so I wanted to spend it with you guys.”

Camilla hummed in contentment. She turned to her retainers. “You two are dismissed.” Beruka bowed, Selena crossed her arms. Just like that, she was sent away.

Dejected and annoyed, Selena stomped back into the hall, flopping down next to Odin.

“Is everything alright?” He ventured, shifting ever so slightly.

“Yep.” She gave a terse reply, reaching for a chicken leg, her appetite apparently restored. Odin knew not to shake the hornet’s nest, so just quietly nibbled on a rib, passing a tankard to her in a show of understanding. They ate in relative silence, aside from Selena’s muttered venting, for the duration of the feast. As the feast carcasses piled high and the mead ran low, the guests slowly made their way out. Just as Selena began making moves to leave, an infuriatingly familiar figure approached. She glared up at Corrin, now mere paces away from them, posture rigid and face uncertain.

“What is it?” Selena barked. Corrin’s eyes hardened in response.

“Lady Corrin,” Odin swooped in. “You honour us with your presence. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Corrin gave a small smile at Odin. “I’m due to leave soon. But I just couldn’t leave without expressing my deepest condolences.”

Selena crossed her arms, huffing in dismissal. Why Corrin was so focused on them, she didn’t know.

“Thank you, Lady Corrin.” Odin bowed. “That means a lot to us.” He glanced at Selena in a less than subtle manner. She shot him back a scathing glare.

“He was a good man, your friend, Laslow.” Corrin continued, much to Selena’s chagrin. “I know it doesn’t mean much, but I am so grateful that my brother had such a devout and compassionate retainer. To defy orders to protect him really speaks to his calibre.”

“What?!” Selena whipped her head up. “You mean to tell me that he wasn’t meant to be there?!”
Corrin tensed up, realising her blunder. Heat rose within Selena, burning her chest and scorching her cheeks. Corrin didn’t take him from her. He abandoned her. The shock alone suppressed the screams boiling within.

“Selena.” Odin hissed, getting her attention enough to look. He tilted his head to the head table where Camilla had resumed her seat. Selena swallowed. Though she shook violently, she wasn’t far gone enough to not know the repercussions for blowing up.

I am a lover. Not a fighter.

Laslow’s often chanted mantra danced in her head. Of course he’d disobey orders for Xander. He had always valued others more than himself. More than her it seemed.

“That’s…” Selena began, gripping the table so hard it creaked. She struggled to find the right words, and she wouldn’t dare embarrass Camilla. A pressure welled within, bringing with it a sudden heat. She had to leave, before her fury overcame her senses. She let out a sharp sigh. “...so fucking typical...” Selena stood so quickly Corrin flinched. Without a last look at Odin or Camilla, Selena marched out of the hall, keeping the tears at bay long enough to round the corner.

***

   Selena had hoped things would calm down once the Hoshidans left; prayed they could return to some semblance of normality. The next couple of weeks would prove to her there was no one to hear her prayers.
Corrin’s revelation had blindsided Selena. Each morning she awoke to a constricting pain in her chest that tore the breath from her. Her answer was to push past it, throw on her gear and march into the day. Now that the war was over, many a grovelling noble flocked to Camilla, offering trite gifts, swearing numerous oaths, anything that would placate her enough to acquiesce to their wishes. As Camilla's retainer, Selena often found herself vicariously subjected to their bare-faced manipulations; usually alone, as much of Beruka's time was spent gathering intelligence, ascertaining as to where everyone's loyalties lay. To say she hated them would be to declare that mountains were tall and the sun rose in the east. But it was a distraction at least, and that’s what she clung to.

The meetings where Leo could provide aid were much smoother, if not dreary. When Camilla was alone, however, Selena saw the hungry glints in their eyes. She could almost smell the poison dripping from their lips, taste the metaphorical nectar of their sweet words as they wielded their bureaucracy like a cattle prod, manoeuvring Camilla towards their goals. Selena’s stomach churned whenever she looked at her liege wearily slouching in her chair, mouth drooping, bags forming beneath her eyes. She looked almost sickly. It was enough to make Selena hold herself higher, to demonstrate to Camilla that she could still be relied on. Many a times she found herself wanting to take to the nobles with the pommel of her sword; even now as she listened to a meeting between Camilla, Leo and a group of Nobles discussing the Faceless hunts.

“I am more than willing to provide men for the hunts, I hope you know.” Drawled a portly noble dressed in gold. “I have always supported the crown in its endeavours. Though it is a mighty ask.”

Camilla tapped impatiently on the meeting notes sitting before her. “Be that as it may, if you wish to have access to the land and resources Hoshido promises, you will fulfil your end of the bargain.”

“But of course, your majesty.” The man bowed with an exaggerated flourish.

“How can we be certain the Hoshidans will uphold their end of the bargain?” Interrupted a narrow faced man. “What have they done to demonstrate that we can trust them?”

“Hoshido knows we still have the superior military strength.” Leo interjected. “They won’t risk making enemies with us again so soon after the war.”

“But how can you know this isn’t a ploy to weaken us, so that they may retaliate?” The man rebutted. Selena seethed from behind Camilla. They were so insipid and irritating. She wished they’d just shut up and do what Camilla had instructed. A hand gently grip her wrist, pulling her gaze to the left. Beruka looked back at her with an expression most would call empty, but conveyed both sympathy and warning. Selena nodded silently. She was glad Beruka was here for once.

“Even if they dared such a scheme, the Faceless no longer follow orders.” Leo continued.” They’re useless to us, and are likely to become a liability.”

“Regardless, the decree has been made, and you will honour the call.” Camilla glared at the nobles sitting at the table, her tone sharp and threatening.

“But of course, Your Majesty.” The second man bowed, his brow almost touching the table. “Though what if the Hoshidans renege?”

Camilla breathed deeply before responding. “Then you will be compensated accordingly. Anything else?” She waited a moment. No one dared speak openly, rather they just shook their heads. Satisfied, Camilla flicked her wrist. “Good. This meeting is adjourned.”

The room was cleared out in mere moments. Soon the last of the nobles left the room, leaving only Leo, Camilla and her retainers. Selena allowed a sigh of frustration to pass. It baffled her just how flippantly they challenged Camilla’s orders.
"Politics, how tiresome." Camilla sighed, shoving a plate of fruit aside.

Selena looked to Camilla, shrunken and limp in her chair. Her anger vanished in an instant. "Are you alright, Lady Camilla?" The question felt lacklustre. She dearly wished to put a comforting hand on Camilla's shoulder, almost uncovered by the slipping cape. But she knew her station.

"I suppose I have to be." Camilla's tone came out harsher than she meant. At least that's what Selena told herself. "Little pests with their false platitudes. It's a wonder I don't swat them aside."

"They're selfish, yes," Leo agreed. "But simple. All the more easy to puppeteer."

"Some things never change." Camilla pulled herself to her feet. Her downturned lips and dark eye bags gave her a withered look. "Beruka dear, would you kindly mix me a sleeping draught please?"

Beruka snapped to attention. "Yes Lady Camilla."

"You're going to sleep?' Leo asked incredulously.

Camilla rubbed her temples. "I'm tired. And I have the most unbearable headache. We have no other engagements, do we?"

Leo shifted, clearly wrestling within. “Nothing we can’t reschedule.”

"Do you have any instructions for me?" Selena looked up at her with hopeful eyes, only to receive a blank stare and a pat on the head.

"Take the rest of the day off, dear. You've been working very hard." Camilla said as she walked past, leaving a stunned Selena to watch her amble out of the room.

***

   “She just acted like I wasn’t even there.” Selena vented to Odin, pacing his room and waving her hands about.

“She’s just stressed and overwhelmed by her sudden royal duties.” Odin replied, half buried in tomes, a parchment and quill by his side.

“I know! I know." Selena continued pacing, tugging at her hair.
Odin closed the tome he was reading, scratched out its name on the parchment and threw it onto a growing pile of books. “Maybe you should rest too.” he said, looking at Selena with a furrowed brow.

“No. No, I’m fine, there’s too much to do anyway.”

“You look worn, and there’s plenty of servants who can do the work.”

‘What? You think I can’t handle it myself? I don’t need coddling.”

"I never said that Selena, but even you need sleep. If you’d like, you can even rest here for now."

Selena stopped pacing and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Look, I'm fine, really.” She sighed. “I Just need something to occupy me."

Odin tapped his quill on the parchment. "Perhaps you could join the Hunts Lord Leo is organising?”

Selena shook her head. "Can't. Queen’s retainer. I have to remain by Lady Camilla’s side to protect her, unless ordered otherwise, of which she’s giving me nothing."

Odin bowed his head, letting out a defeated sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Selena slumped. The silence left room for Laslow to worm into her thoughts. Her chest began to tighten, bringing her breaths to shallow rasps. “I need some air. I’ll see you later.”

Odin had barely responded before she was out the door. She marched down the hall, making for the nearest exit. She was aware of the extra effort she was putting into walking, how dramatic she must have looked. But her heavy footfalls and loud breaths drew her mind away from him, so it didn’t matter to her. She was outside in no time, the open air barely more liberating than indoors. Turns out she had reached the gardens, a sea of plant life spread out before her, separated by the stone railings. The colours of the flowers provided some relief from the whirlwind in her mind. The vibrantly coloured flowers were a perplexing wonder, given Nohr’s temperate climate. Leaning on the railing, her eyes fell on a flower of a striking red and orange hue.

For you my dear. An enchanting flower of exquisite beauty, second of course to your own.

“Ugh really? That’s the best you have?” Selena muttered aloud. With a start she realised what she had just done. She threw a vicious glare at the flowers before storming off. She had no time to let her thoughts impact her before a sound caught her attention.

Curious, she followed the sound, an erratic gasping sound. The closer she got, she realised it was someone crying. Rounding the corner, Selena found herself on the steps into the garden proper. And sitting by the steps, shoulders hunched, donned in a red and blue tunic, was Arthur. Sick of the constant misery, Selena turned to leave. Or rather she tried, yet found herself descending the stairs, crouching by Arthur.

“Hey, you okay?”

Arthur nearly jumped at her arrival. His eyes were red and puffy and his hair hung lamely. “Ah Selena. My apologies, I didn’t hear your approach.” He turned his head back, gazing down at his lap. Selena followed his gaze. His rough hands clutched a clump of soil and a brown, wilted flower.

“What’s with the dead flower?” She shifted to sit on the stair properly, knees brought beneath her chin.

Arthur sniffed, cradling the plant. “Elise and I were trying to grow it.”

Oh. Selena wished she could melt into the stairs. Good going.

“It wasn’t much,” he continued. “Just something to distract herself from everything that was going on. I hoped to keep it going for her. But I failed that. Just like I failed her.”

Selena gripped her knees tighter.

“I don’t know what I expected.” Arthur sighed. “I’m hopeless anyway.”

“Elise wouldn’t want you to give up like that.” Selena averted her gaze. “She’d’ve wanted you to keep living. You know, for justice or whatever.” She fumbled with her words. How can she comfort someone when spouting such childish nonsense? How Odin did

it, she’d never know.

“Justice.” Arthur laughed, a hollow and bitter sound. “What justice?” He slowly pulled his gaze up to look Selena in the eye. “There is no justice, Selena. Only victors, and failures like me.”

Selena blinked, at a complete loss for words. There was no way Arthur, of all people, had just said that.

“What sort of justice would allow someone as precious as her to die?” He rambled. Selena sat stunned. This really was happening. ““All she wanted was her family. All she wanted was to make people smile.”

Selena stopped breathing, his words hitting hard. A familiar face drifted into her thoughts.

“What good is a retainer who allows their liege to die?”

“...You’re right. I guess there is no justice after all.” Selena huffed, standing up.

“I’m sorry, Selena. I shouldn’t be burdening you with my woes.” His tone made her tense up, knowing what was to come. “You also lost someone precious to you.”

And there it was, the pity. She was so tired of the pity. Arthur gave her an unwelcomingly sympathetic look. “I’m sorry about Laslow.”

A seething anger began to well in the pit of her stomach. Selena gave him a half-hearted acknowledgement before ascending the stairs and leaving. With each step her simmering fury grew, pulling her brow into a dark frown.

Come on love, smile. You look so radiant when you do.

She scoffed at her own intrusive memories. You have no right to tell me what to do.

***

   Selena perused the weapons in the training grounds barracks. The monotony of council meetings was leaving her stiff and irritable. She needed to clear her mind and expend some energy. She needed a distraction. And what better way to achieve all that than with a sparring session. She grabbed a wooden sword, giving it a few test swings before making her way into the grounds. Scanning the grounds, many of the troops were already engaged in training, leaving her with few options. She had half a mind to just find a practice dummy when she spied Effie, bereft of her pink armour, honing her technique alone. She approached Effie slowly, lest she get hit by a stray swing. Watching her was almost entertainment enough. The arc of her lance, the sheer precision of her strikes, the force of her thrust that could almost be felt. She was a legitimate inspiration. And she reminded Selena too keenly of Kjelle.

"Not training with the others?" Selena asked between swings. She got no answer. "Um, Effie?" Selena had heard of Effie's fierce dedication to her training, how she'd go into a trance like state where nothing outside mattered. It sounded annoying then, it was vexing now. "Oi Effie!"

Effie started, her lance swinging off course, barely missing Selena. "Selena. Don't scare me like that."

"Not training with the others?"

"None of them can keep up with me." Effie shrugged. "They're not quite my level, and I'd rather not break them."

"Well then, how about sparring against me?"

Effie noticeably tensed, expression turning wary. "Are you sure you're up to it?"

Selena gripped the hilt of her sword. "You saying I'm not strong enough for ya?"

"That's not what I--" Effie shook her head, her eyes darting about as she thought of her next response. "Never mind, let's go, first strike wins."

Selena failed to repress a scowl. Effie didn't need to finish the sentence to make her meaning clear. Following her to a clear space, she took up position, gripping her sword with both hands. She'd show Effie she was still capable.
Effie squared up ahead of her. Selena could've sworn her stance looked limp, cautious. No matter, once they started she'd be serious. Selena pushed off with her right foot, swinging over head. There was a sharp crack as sword met lance. Selena leapt back, anticipating a response, only to find Effie still standing in the same spot. Disbelief gave way to anger and Selena leapt again, this time following up with additional strikes, pushing against Effie's defence. A few blocks in, Effie finally retaliated, swinging the lance in an upwards arch that forced Selena back. Using the window of opportunity, Selena resumed her attack. She grunted as the sword bounced off the shaft of the lance, brought down by Effie too quick to see. Using the force of the block, Selena whirled the other way, aiming to strike Effie's left flank, which was blocked yet again. She kept moving, striking wherever an opening presented itself, never going for a second strike. Effie had the height advantage, so Selena had to keep the momentum going. Dodging behind Effie, Selena readied her blade and thrust. In a blink, Effie spun, bashing aside the sword and landing a languid, but otherwise physical blow to Selena's shoulder.

"What was that?" Selena blinked. The hit was so weak she questioned if it even happened. The loss was overshadowed by a perplexed irritation. "C'mon, another round, properly this time." She readied her blade again.
They clashed again, the force of it rippling down the sword. Each blow from Selena sent cracks throughout the ground, yet Effie's barely made the wind whip. Another clumsy mistake left Selena open to Effie. The subsequent blow to the stomach barely made her grunt.

"Seriously? Why are you holding back?"

"Your temperament concerns me."

So that’s what it was. Pity. Any energy expended in the mock duel was replaced by a burning fury that made her tremble. "My temperament?! Ugh, what does that matter? This is sparring, so spar!" Selena charged, launching blows strong enough to make Effie's arms ripple. "Come on, take me seriously!' Selena pressed forward, blow after blow, dodging the few swings Effie did throw. It kept her moving, and that was the main thing. The blows kept coming, harder and faster. It wasn’t enough for Effie to just block, she had to fight back, else Selena would just keep going. Something in Effie changed. Her stance turned aggressive and her swings became faster and harder.

She’s finally taking me seriously. Maybe now she’ll be a challenge.

In a motion too quick to see, Effie swung the butt of her lance up, colliding with Selena's cheek with such force it sent her sprawling into the dirt. The grounds fell silent, all eyes on Selena. She gasped, her cheek throbbing. She lay a moment as the stars faded from sight before sitting up. The blood roared in her ears. The blow had invigorated her. This was more like it.

"Heh, about damn time." Selena grinned, pushing against her jaw. She looked up, only to see Effie walking away. "Wait, where are you going?"

Effie turned back to her with a sad look. "You're using training as a way of coping. I understand that, but the extremes you’re taking are dangerous, and I won't enable you."

Selena was at a loss on how to respond. All at once she wanted to scream, cry, yell and collapse. Watching Effie walk away, watching her first taste of relief leave, was suffocating. As though she had finally managed to emerge from water, only to be pushed back under, as though she were meant to drown.

“Fine then, leave.” Selena spat as Effie walked away. “Not like you’re the only person I can spar.” She mumbled to herself. Rubbing her aching jaw, she turned around. Several soldiers stood motionless, mouths agape and eyes filled with awe. Selena twirled her sword. “So. Who wants to go a round?”

Chapter Text

   The air was still as the soldiers huddled together in the training grounds. Quiet murmurs snaked through the suits of armour, the anticipation steadily growing, awaiting the address of their Prince. The Hunts were due to begin. For some it was a chance to travel the land. For others a chance at redemption. For others again it was a convenient reason to be on the battlefield again. Whatever the reason a soldier found themself standing there, the excitement was palpable. Heads turned as a figure of shimmering black emerged on the balcony overlooking the grounds. Swords clanged on shields and cheers erupted, flooding the ground with a cacophony of sound. The din silenced with a simple raise of Prince Leo’s hand.

“A new dawn is upon us.” Leo bellowed, addressing the soldiers. “The shadows of war that have long gripped Nohr in fear and suffering have been dispelled. Where there was once despair, there is now hope. Where there was once conflict, there is now peace. But that does not mean the fighting is done. The war is over, but it’s fires continue to ravage the land in the form of the Faceless. These vile beasts tarnish the glory of Nohr. Their existence is a reminder of our reprehensible actions during the war. So long as they continue to roam unchecked, they are a threat to the people of the land, the Kingdom of Nohr, and the very peace that so many have fought and died for. That is why, on this day, I gather you before me, the best that this kingdom has to offer. As a new sun rises over Nohr, so too will we rise as a better, stronger Kingdom! We will cleanse the land of the filth we have wrought upon it and we will eradicate the Faceless. We will prove to the world that Nohr can and will become better.”

There was a small pause undisturbed by even their breathing. Leo raised his arm high. “Let us rid the stain of Nohr’s darkest deeds. Let the Hunts begin!”

At once the grounds were consumed by cheers of the soldiers.

***

   The din of the soldiers had barely simmered when Leo emerged into the training grounds proper. Already squads were forming and captains were briefing them of the upcoming missions. He strolled past the excited guards, hands folded behind him, making his way to the familiar pink armour that stood in stark contrast to the obsidian armour of the soldiers. Effie's attention was turned to her companion, Arthur. Their conversation became audible the closer Leo got.

“So that’s it then, you aren’t gonna join?” Effie’s voice was surprisingly soft, given how gruff it can be.

“No, I would only get in the way.” The sombre tone of Arthur’s response was foreign to Leo, made worse by his slouched shoulders and hung head.

“Arthur, I know you’re having a rough time, but we could use your help. It might be good for you to get out of the castle.”

“I’m sorry Effie. But I can’t. I already failed Lady Elise, I don't want to be a burden to you all.”

Effie suppressed a sigh of frustration, shifting her weight to her other foot. “Alright, then what are you going to do?”

Leo stopped just behind them, deeming the conversation too personal to interrupt.

Arthur shook his head in dismay. “I don’t know at this point. Maybe I’ll try my hand at being a butler. Or a stable hand. Whatever it is, it won’t be fighting.” Arthur turned, pausing when his eyes landed on Leo. “Oh, My Lord.”

Leo nodded in resignation, his mouth pulled into a grim line. “I cannot say I’m not disappointed you won't lend us your strength. However I don’t condemn you for it either.” Leo said. “If you do so feel inclined I believe there is currently an intake for Butlers.”

“Thank you My Lord.” With a deep bow, Arthur took his leave. Leo turned back to Effie.

“And you Effie? Are you ready for the coming hunts?”

Effie straightened up, gripping her lance with fervour. “I am, Milord. I will dedicate myself to bringing true peace to this land. As Lady Elise would have wanted.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I am appointing you as the Field Marshall of the Hunts. You will be my eyes and ears in managing these hunts. And you will carry out my will when I am unable to.”

She blinked as if she’d just been slapped. “Milord? I am grateful, but why me?” Gratitude and confusion mingled in her voice.

“Simple. You’re strong and direct. There are few absolutes in this world, but one is your prowess in battle and loyalty to the crown.” Leo replied matter-of-factly.

She bit her lip in contemplation. “I may be a formidable fighter, but I’m not a strategist. I work best when receiving orders, not giving them.”

“You will be receiving my orders. And you will have tacticians and advisers to aid you as well.” Leo continued, Effie still unsure. “I put you in this position not to see you fail, but because I know you are the most trustworthy of the lot.”

Leo’s confidence resonated with her. She stood to attention, expression resolute. “Then what are your orders, Milord?”

***

   Pages fluttered as Odin hurled another book onto the growing pile at the foot of his bed. The Dread Mage, Iago, had a significantly larger library of magicks than he could’ve imagined, and the tempest of words and incantations whirling in his mind was giving him a headache. When he began the arduous task of sorting through Iago’s belongings, a tiny part of him, a small spark that had been smothered by the ashes of the war, had hoped he’d uncover some truly sinister tomes. Spells and incantations that froze one’s blood just knowing its effects. But there were only so many versions of dark magic tomes he could read before the lull of boredom set in.

Despite Leo’s revelation that Iago was in fact an agent of Anankos, a fact that set the hairs on the back of his neck on end, he had yet to find anything that tied him to the dragon. What drew Odin’s ire most wasn’t the lacklustre subject matter of the many books, but that they failed to draw his attention. He had leapt at the chance to divert his focus, to pour his energies into unearthing the secrets of the now dead sorcerer. But try as he might, his mind retreated from the writings and wandered elsewhere.
Shaking his head, Odin snatched the next book off the stack and opened it. Intriguingly it appeared to be a notebook. Much of it was notes and ledgers regarding the kingdom, detailing its many affairs. It seemed Iago was more organised than Odin gave him credit for. Page after page, Iago had scribbled notes of various subjects: Provinces who were dissenting, political allies and opponents, whispers and rumours and so on. Odin continued to flick through, soon coming upon a set of notes that made him shiver.

Before him lay passages about the various members of the royal family, as well as their retainers. Curious, Odin read them over.

- Prince Xander: Still has far too much influence on the King, however he is solely occupied with Corrin’s defection. A threat, but still useful.

- Princess Camilla: Physically strong but weak of mind and easily manipulated. Maintain distance.

- Prince Leo: Far too knowing. The prince hasn't been sighted since he left to intercept Corrin. I fear he may have suspicions. Critical threat.

- Princess Elise: Her innocence should be a boon, yet it seems to give her a clairvoyance that others lack. Observe.

Odin chuckled at Iago's apparent fear of Leo. That his suspicions were accurate was even better. It was curious how readily he wrote off Camilla. He recalled tales of Selena having to calm Camilla enough to not kill Iago on the spot. He flicked the page, seeing the retainers. He read on.

- Arthur: An incompetent oaf with no merit both as a threat or an ally.

- Effie: Loyal to Elise, but otherwise not a critical thinker.

- Niles: His background makes him dangerous. His swift fingers and inquisitive mind, bolstered by Leo’s insufferable meddling, makes him a critical threat. Watch and observe. Terminate if he acts suspicious.

- Beruka: Highly dangerous. I’ve been told she has a network through which she gains information. I may need to try and find this network.

- Peri: An unstable, rabid dog. So long as Xander is on side, she is of no consequence.

Odin winced reading the notes. He had trouble refuting Iago’s assessments, as horrid a thought as it was, yet couldn’t help but pity the other retainers for how easily they were dismissed. Except for Niles. Odin smirked knowing Niles’ very presence caused Iago discomfort.

Wonder if he had any thoughts about us?

Odin got his answer in the form of frantic scribbles and torn pages. He, Laslow and Selena had all been grouped into one note, surrounded by near illegible writing.

Who?! Where?! Why?! Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

The words seemed to radiate with an intense heat, as though Iago’s maddening frustrations had flowed into the ink with which he scratched the paper with. Their untraceable history had garnered more attention than they had realised, to the point where Iago had driven himself mad trying to determine their motives for becoming retainers. Odin had to squint past the scribbles to see the notes themselves.

Who are these three? They are close, yet their history cannot be traced. Spies? Do they suspect the presence of him? Or are they simply mercenaries?

Odin deduced that ‘him’ must refer to Anankos. Of course Iago wouldn’t use his name so flippantly, but he also wouldn’t refer to Garon as such. There was no other explanation.

- Laslow: Repugnant and licentious as he may be, he has demonstrated considerable prowess even against Xander, and his mind seems less one tracked than his partner.

- Odin: A formidable mage disguised as a jester. His mannerisms confound me, as if he truly wishes to confuse me. Is this some sort of code he uses to communicate with hidden allies?

- Selena: The most straightforward of the three with a temper that’s easily exploited. Fiercely loyal to Camilla however. Must ensure she doesn’t defect.

The tingle of excitement and rush of mystery dissipated as he read Selena’s name. He hadn’t seen her today, though they were meant to meet up. Since Laslow died, they had made a concerted effort to meet up every couple of days at minimum, though there was little to talk about. His task didn’t make for interesting conversation, not to her anyway. To cope with her grief, Selena had turned to doing tasks around the castle and capitol, be it reconstruction, hunting or smithing. Anything that wasn’t standing still. When she couldn’t find a task to do, she could be found sparring in the training grounds. As such, she was often too exhausted to offer any meaningful conversation.

He tried to refocus on Iago’s notes, but his thoughts kept running, like a carriage rolling downhill, unstoppable. It wasn’t her activities that concerned him. It was the frequency in which she participated in them. It was the late nights and early mornings. It was the increasingly frazzled and unkempt hair that was normally so pristinely maintained. It was the new bruises he saw every time she visited. It was the bloodshot, unfocused eyes and shuddering sighs of a weary body that so desperately cried for respite yet was denied by a restless, broken heart. He had tried to convince her to slow down, to rest and heal. But through grimaces and clenched teeth she swore she was fine. There was nothing he could do at this point but be there for her.
Motivation gone, he shut the book and slid it away, resolving to show Leo at some stage. He stretched, joints clicking and muscles groaning from sitting for too long. Perhaps he should do some light training to loosen up. He flicked his eyes to the window. Judging by the dim light and long shadows, he estimated it to be late afternoon. Normally Xander and Leo would meet around this time to discuss strategy and politics, leaving Odin and Laslow free. They’d usually go somewhere quiet where Laslow would practice his dance routines, while Odin would draft stories, each other their best critic.

Those afternoons were blissful. Laslow had been slowly gaining confidence to dance before someone. For Odin to be that someone made his chest swell with pride and emotion. While these meetings did dwindle as the war flared up, and especially when Laslow and Selena started courting, he still made time to practice with Odin. Laslow would often say that Odin should make his stories into plays, and he’d perform in them. It was said in jest, but Odin could hear the sincerity in his voice. He had to admit, there were many spare moments spent daydreaming of such a reality. But now that dream lay buried in a crypt, those afternoons would be no more.

Longing settled in Odin’s heart. To return to those peaceful afternoons. To lose hours narrating epic tales to dance routines. He longed for the future Laslow had unwittingly put into his head. Submerged in the depths of this longing, an idea came to him. Gathering up the discarded books, he threw them into the fireplace and set them ablaze with a spell. He seated himself again, now more comfortable, and reached for a stack of parchment. He snatched the quill up and dipped it in the ink, and with the briefest pause to form a premise, he began writing.

***

    Camilla's nails gouged into the table. The royal council had convened to discuss the withdrawal from Cheve and it's subsequent division with Hoshido: A discussion that had quickly devolved into snide quibbles.

"Cheve has always been and always will be Nohrian territory." A stocky noble in a blue tunic spoke. "Surely you do not wish to turn it over so willingly to the enemy, Your Majesty?"

"Hoshido is no longer our enemy," Said Camilla "This is not an act of submission, but a show of peace. Cheve has made their intentions clear, and this is the compromise made between our kingdoms."

"And the rest of our ceded territory is also a share of peace?" Interjected an older woman of silver hair and gold sashes. "We have relinquished whole provinces, allowed them to simply traipse into our land, even sent dozens of good men to protect their lands: Good men who should be here, helping us recover, and for what?"

"Do you forget the food they will provide for us?" A darker skinned man responded, his quivering beard the only indication he was speaking. "Or the fact that it is our own abominations that we're ridding from the land? Are you insinuating our Queen is weak for thinking of her people?"

"I say no such thing of her." The woman spat back. "I merely express concern that the Hoshidans are using this period of grief and mourning to extort her."
The sudden heel turn and accusation left Camilla speechless. Even more stupefying was the conversation unfurling that seemed more about her than directed to her. Voice lodged in her throat, she was unable to respond before a reedy man that reminded her too much of Iago piped up.

"Nohr has never needed aid before. To offer it with so many caveats is a clear attempt to undermine our strength."

"No Nohr has never needed aid." A maroon haired woman rolled her eyes. "We've only ever gone to war to gain resources, because that's not going to consume them faster."

The poorly concealed contempt mixed with the snide comment only made Camilla wish Leo was here. She attempted to force her way back into the discussion. "Hoshido offers this because they do not wish to fight, because-"

"Hoshido is known for its trickery and back door dealings." The old woman's voice cut through like a knife. "Their entire culture is built around cultivating a refined facade. Simply look at those ninja they train."

"And what do you know of Hoshidans culture?" Camilla seethed.

"When you get to my age, you learn a thing or two about the world." The woman replied with a snug glint in her eye. "I have seen and learned of Hoshido throughout the years. More so than that traitor."

"That 'traitor' is my sister, and you will not speak I'll of her." Camilla hissed. The old woman cowered, mentally calculating her reply.

"Forgive my poor word choice, Your Majesty. But what concerns me is that she's quite young and impressionable, it's natural she'd only be shown the good side of Hoshido, and in turn present it to you. I only wish to be of useful council to you by providing my knowledge in these matters."

"Knowledge?" The other woman laughed. "You mean senile recollections of prejudices. You're Majesty, I have family in Cheve who've had contact with Hoshido. I implore you not to listen to this woman's ramblings."

"Ramblings?" The old woman replied mortified. "I speak from experience, what do you offer in return?"

Camilla's head jerked back and forth as replies started being flung over the table like spears on the battlefield.

"An open mind and a willingness to not plunge us back into war."

"A confident response for an act of submission." The reedy man snipped. "What Nohr needs to do now, more than ever, is reassert its strength."

"What's there to reassert?" The bearded man balked. "Hoshido was on the verge of losing, they're well aware of our strength. It's why they're so eager to trade, to prevent the war from restarting, which you seem inclined to do."

The stocky noble piped up for the first time in a while. "All the more reason not to cater to them. If they wish to prevent war, they should give us reason not to."

"If you wish to go to war, by all means raise your bannermen, you'll find yourself marching alone."

Camilla felt sick. The bickering of the nobles was difficult enough to follow with the frequent cut offs, but what was more nauseating were the thinly veiled attempts at undermining each other. She knew such bickering well enough, to prove someone the fool was to win yourself favour. The frequent glances in her direction only cemented this notion. Each were clambering to gain Camilla's favour. It was no different to how her mother had verbally sparred with other advisers and concubines. Never before had Camilla been so painfully aware of the absence of Selena and Beruka, or her axe for that matter.

"Your haste to submit will be our downfall."

"You would squander a genuine chance at a better future for nostalgic glory?"

"Better than submitting like a dog."

"People like you are why Nohr is so reviled."

The bickering had reached its zenith. And Camilla's blood boiled. “ENOUGH!”

Nary a breeze stirred in the silence that followed. All eyes lay on Camilla. None dared move lest they incur her wrath. They no longer looked at her like a coveted prize, but with the fear of one about to lose their life. She seethed from her seat, rigid and tensed as if ready to strike.

“If you cannot come to an arrangement yourself, then it will be decided for you.” She breathed, her voice like shards of glass. “I will speak with my brother, and you will be informed of the decision. Is that clear?”

The heads of the nobles trembled in what seemed to be a nod of acknowledgement.

“Good. Now get out.” The nobles scurried out of the room, the mutterings under their breath not gone unheard. Now alone in the room, Camilla deflated, falling back into her chair. These meetings were beyond her. It seemed all she did nowadays was attend meetings. Try as she might, she made little progress. The agendas of every noble was laid out and easy to see. Their hypocrisy even more so. They were right, her grief could be exploited. And they were taught how to do so from their adolescence. It was as easy to them as breathing.

How father could bear this, I do not know.

But she knew exactly how he had navigated the never ending maze that was politics. He forced his way through. And when he had had enough, he would send people away like stray cats. Much like how she had just done. That thought alone made her stomach churn. If only Xander were here. She clasped her dress in her fists. He always had a way with words. He knew how to deal with these little pests. Was this truly what he endured? Was this truly what he was being groomed to do?

Tears splattered on her hands as she thought of her brother. Ruminating on his circumstances, she saw there was truly no light at the end for him. Either he fell to Corrin’s blade, or he lived bound to a Kingdom that cared not for him.
It's no wonder he had wanted to die.

The air became heavy and thick. Camilla hauled herself up and left the chamber. The hall felt no better. The walls themselves seemed to wrap around her, the columns her prison bars. As she walked down the hall, she became acutely aware of the people around her, of the many many eyes watching her every move. The thin metal crown adorning her head felt as heavy as lead, and her cape dragged like a wet pelt. She averted her eyes, biting her trembling lip. The hall seemed to stretch on for eternity, and all the while she was still being watched.

This must’ve been how Xander felt. A caged animal being eyed off by predators in the shadows, trapped, with no end in sight.

Camilla’s pace picked up as her chin started to wobble. She mustn’t show vulnerability, lest the vultures descend. A lesson her mother had engrained in her. Yet still the eyes remained, ever watchful. A lump formed in her throat, making it hard to breath. That’s when she was approached by a man dressed in a neat mauve tunic.

“You’re majesty?” The noble enquired, head tilted, noticing her distress.

Camilla’s breath caught in her throat. So they were ready to descend. Seized by panic, she broke into a half trot, encumbered by her clothing. Her panic had alerted the other vultures. Soon the hall was filled with calls for her. She hastened to her room, everywhere the eyes were watching her.

When she finally came to her room, she all but burst through the doors, whirling around and slamming them shut. She stood there for several minutes, hands pushing against the doors as if to prevent the mobs from flinging them open, hyperventilating and shivering. Certain she was safe from the ravenous nobles, Camilla slid down the door, coming to a rest at the bottom. Terrified and alone, Camilla curled into herself, wrapping her arms around her, sobbing into her sleeves.

***

   Leo rubbed his bleary eyes as he made his way to Camilla's room, meeting notes in hand. She had been absent from the previous meeting. In fact she had been absent all morning. All he managed to get from Beruka was that Camilla was exhausted. Reaching her room, he reached up and knocked.

"Camilla?" He received no response. "I'm coming in, if that's alright?" All he got was a muffled groan. Knowing that was all he'd get, he slipped in. The curtains were drawn, plunging the room into darkness, save for the tepid glow of embers in the fire place.

Leo left the meeting notes on a table near the door and approached the bed. Camilla could barely be seen beneath the covers. The way her hair splayed around her and the angle she lay on made her look like she'd been dropped. "Camilla?"

She didn't stir. In fact, he couldn't hear her breathing. She was so still. Panic began to well within. "Camilla?" He gently shook her shoulder, voice tinged with concern.

She finally stirred. "Leo?"

Leo let the breath he was holding go. "Are you alright?"

Camilla rubbed her eye with the heel of her palm. "Just a little worn. Nothing to worry about." With a groan and lethargic movements, she pulled herself into a sitting position. It was such a jarring sight. Despite the loose black nightgown falling away, revealing toned arms and firm shoulders, she looked weak and frail. " I suppose it’s time for the meeting?" She sighed as if it were her execution waiting.

"The meeting’s over." Leo spoke flatly.

"Wha-?" Camilla blinked. She shrunk further in on herself, expression morphing to one of remorse and fear. "I take it they were wondering where I was?"

Leo nodded. "They were curious, yes. I simply said you had more pressing matters to attend to and that I would speak on your behalf."

Camilla's eye shimmered in the glow of the dwindling embers, her expression unreadable. She swung her legs over the edge, swiveling to sit in front of Leo. She entwined her fingers in his, squeezing with all the strength of a small child. He rubbed his thumbs over her hands.

"You’re such a good boy. You really are. I don’t know how you manage it. How you muster the energy to do it all." She whispered.

Leo gave her a gentle squeeze. "These things need to be done. Times are uncertain, and in that uncertainty we must press on. It’s as simple as that."

Camilla's face crumpled and a small, almost imperceptible whine slipped out. She buried her face in the folds of his tunic. "You’re so dedicated…. I really am a horrible person."

The pain in her voice made his stomach drop. "What? What could make you say such things?" Trepidation crept into his voice. There was something else. Her voice was ladened with thoughts yet to be expressed.

Her voice came out muffled. "Because I have a request. I know I shouldn't, not with all you've done for me, but I must ask. I can't keep going like this."

Leo's heart pounded against his ribs. There was no way. Surely not. "Then ask. If it's within my power, I'll see it done."

The room was silent for a full minute. At least Leo believed it was. It was hard to hear anything over the roaring in his ears. The wait was agonising, his heart threatened to rip through his chest and a limp lodged in his throat. But he held his tongue. He waited for her to speak the words he both anticipated and dreaded.

"Leo… Would you take the throne in my place?"

There it was. For the first time in recent memory, his mind had gone blank. No remarks, no strategies. Camilla had truly just asked him to take her place. He could not place his emotions. Fear? Elation? He had seen this coming, yet still he stood blindsided. When he opened his mouth to speak, he felt numb.

"Of course."

Camilla whipped her head up, eye wide in disbelief and gratitude. She burst into tears and wrapped her arms around him, arms shaking violently as she was overcome with relief. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." She repeated over and over into his chest. "I'm so sorry."

Leo numbly wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin in her head. "There's nothing to apologise for."

Camilla stood, pulling Leo into a proper embrace. "You will be a better King than I. I know it."

Chapter Text

   It wasn’t Camilla’s abdication that shocked the capital, rather it was how swiftly the now Crown Prince Leo solidified his influence. In what felt like overnight, plans that had only been discussed in passing were being put into action, systems and structures were being revamped and rearranged, and many nobles found themselves with new positions of power, or had them revoked. A former thief now found himself as Master of Whispers. A mage found himself as Sorcerer Advisor. And a mercenary found herself lost and without direction, drifting at sea as her life raft steadily broke down.

At this stage, Selena couldn’t place herself anymore. She moved with little consideration for where or why. All she knew was she had to keep going. Certainty was a luxury seemingly denied to her. Everytime she got herself into a routine, something or someone would take it from her. Now that Camilla was no longer to be Queen, Selena’s duties as retainer waned almost to a standstill. What even was her purpose anymore? Deprived of answers and too exhausted to question, she found herself at the training grounds more and more. At least there was always a chance to train. That at least was a certainty.

Sparring was simple. It’s just you and your opponent. You win, or you lose. The only sounds are the rushes of wind, the cracks of training weapons colliding and the grunts of the participants. The only thoughts were when to strike and when to dodge. In the moment there was no time to think about other people. That’s what she liked about sparring, it was simple. Unfortunately, the restlessness surpassed not only her own stamina, but those of her opponents as well. No sooner would she start to expend energy, her opponent would concede, much to her disappointment. She felt the same disappointment as she swung her sword up, knocking away her opponent’s and bringing hers back down, smacking him in the chest with enough force to send him into the mud, coughing. She gripped her throbbing shoulder, panting.

“That’s it, I’m spent.” the soldier held up his arm in surrender.

“Really?” Selena blew a strand of hair away in irritation. It was getting harder to find decent opponents, which did her no favours in staying occupied.

“Hey come on, I’m just a gatekeeper.” he groaned, clambering to his feet. “I’m nowhere near your level.” He winced, clutching at his sternum.

“Fine.” She sighed, trying to keep her disappointment in check. No point in pushing the issue. “Go see a healer.”

The soldier hobbled off, leaving Selena alone to look for another opponent. That was the fourth one today, and it wasn’t even noon yet.

Maybe you’re being too heavy handed with them… No, they’re soldiers, they should be able to last longer than that.

Selena couldn’t help but wonder if it was her they were trying to avoid. Play up their injuries so as to not deal with her. She hoped not. While she had taken a few hits earlier, she was still too restless, too energised. She considered finding something else to do, but the strain of finding something else hurt her head. It was easier to keep going.

"Careful now. Keep this up and you’ll knock out our whole army." A slick voice said.

Whipping her head back, Selena saw Niles, propped against a column, arms crossed, trading out his usual clothes for a crisp blue tunic and black Cape, his new position obviously warranting a uniform change.

"Bite me Niles."

"Oho, later." He held his hands up when Selena shot him a glare. "But seriously, do try to control that steamy little temper of yours."

"Oh fuck off, I’m sparring. Is that a crime?"

"No. But when you use it as an opportunity to take your anger out on everyone, then it becomes a problem." Niles lectured, ambling around her. If he thought he could use his new position against her, he had another thing coming.

"You done? Beat it."

Niles stopped in front of her, his smile somehow teasing yet sinister. "In case you haven’t realised, you’re not the only one mourning."

A fire within flared. "Excuse me?"

"Look at you, flailing your little sword around like a child. It’s pathetic. I don’t see Odin doing it. Or Lord Leo. Or Lady Camilla." The last name was drawn out, dripping with sardonic pleasure.

Selena thrust her sword at his face, eager to end this before it got nasty. "Do I have to shove this sword down your throat to get you to shut up?"

"Ooh touched a nerve there." Niles' eye twinkled like a child who just discovered the desserts unattended. Selena tensed, ready for danger. "Though I suppose, Camilla is a sore subject for you right now? Isn’t she?"

She was no longer worried about him. The fire had flared into an inferno, and her vision was starting to darken. she could feel her restraint smoulder. "I’m warning you now, Niles." She spoke, her voice low and eerily still. "Drop the subject."

"She’s not paying much attention to you, is she? That’s why you’re pummeling anyone brave enough to fight you. Because you’re suffering from heartache, and your precious lady you try oh so hard to please isn’t giving you the love and affection you desire."

Selena swung her sword, the wooden blade colliding with his head so hard she lost her grip and dropped it. Reeling in pain, Niles had no chance to prepare for the flurry of punches Selena unleashed upon him. She seethed as each blow brought another crack, silencing every cry that passed his blood-soaked lips. A wicked satisfaction writhed within as his condescending face and smug tone crumbled, as he doubled over when she struck his abdomen. The euphoric relief from each hit begged for another, and another after that. A swift hook sent him sprawling into the mud. But she wasn’t finished with him. His insufferable, condescending face was too recognisable, his lips already twisting to mock her pain further. She gave him a sharp, brutal kick to the face, sending him onto his back with a wheeze. Selena jerked back as strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her away from the convulsing Niles.

“You’re a sick bastard, Niles!” Selena screamed, pulling against the wary soldiers.

Niles groaned, propping himself up on his elbows, face covered in blood. “Poor little retainer. Forced to suffer alone like the rest of us, my heart bleeds for you.” His voice came out barely more than a wheeze.

“What the fuck do you know about suffering?” Selena spat. “Poor little Niles, thinks he had it rough cause he never had anything. You’ve never had something to lose.”

Her words made Niles pause, something that would’ve given her satisfaction were she not violently shaking. “All you know is how to run around the slums. You don’t know what it’s like to be unable to save everyone you care about. You don’t know what it’s like to fight all your life and still lose. You don’t know what it feels like to finally get a chance at a new future and have it ripped away again.” Tears were flowing now, though she was far past the point of caring. “Don’t you ever say I don’t know what it’s like to suffer. I know a damn side more than you ever will.”

“Heh, typical Selena.” Niles grimaced as he slowly pulled himself up. “Always gotta be the first in everything.”

Selena lurched forward, straining against the arms of the other soldiers.

“Easy, easy. I’m going, okay?” Niles backed away, palms raised in surrender. “I’ve had more than enough stimulation today.”

Selena seethed as Niles limped away. She stopped resisting, exhaustion taking hold. “You can let go now.” She said morosely. She didn’t move as the hands gently released her.

Without another word, she left the training ground, sword forgotten in the mud.

***

   The sword felt heavier in her hands today, yet on Selena pushed. She was well aware of the looks she was receiving, which only fuelled her more.

"Heh, I'm surprised you came today." A gruff voice spoke.

Selena looked to the voice. Three soldiers were leaning against a fence, the owner of the voice being the bearded one in front.

"Did you expect anything else?" Selena replied, resting her sword on her shoulder.

"After that little upset yesterday, I figured you'd take a rest. Guess not."

“Please, you think I’d let that one-eyed weasel stop me? Now then, who wants to fight me first?”

“That won’t be necessary.” Selena froze at the tone. She turned to see Leo, dressed in a royal purple tunic, a thin black crown adorning his head. He gestured to the soldiers. “You three are dismissed. Walk with me Selena.”

Selena hesitated, apprehension coiling around her legs like vines, rooting her to the spot “Where?

“Relax. It’s just a stroll around the grounds.” Leo set off without waiting, his tone bringing neither comfort nor dread. With a deflated look at the retreating soldiers, Selena followed him. He didn’t so much as look at her as they left the training grounds. She knew this would be to do with Niles, there was no other scenario she could conjure that would have Crown Prince Leo himself coming to her. She itched with anticipation as the edge of the grounds drew near, fighting every instinct to run, to preemptively defend herself, to lash out.

“Niles came to me bloody and battered. I thought he had been ambushed. You did a real number on him.” Leo began, making her skin prickle in dread.

“He harassed me and-”

“I am aware of Niles’ transgressions. I do not need to be retold what he did. And rest assured, he will be appropriately disciplined for his insensitive words.”

Selena scoffed at ‘appropriately disciplined’. “Are you going to remove that vile tongue of his?”

Leo turned to her, stopping them beneath a stone arch. His mouth was set in a line “I need my retainers in good condition, Selena.”

The professional side of Selena grappled with the hurting side of Selena. She grasped for any rebuttals. “I have a right to be angry.”

“Oh you do. Believe me you do. Even I’m angry on your behalf. But still, your anger over mere words does not justify you brutalising my retainers or my soldiers.”

“They were a little more than mere words.”

“Even so. I will not tolerate infighting among my subjects. Which is why as punishment I am prohibiting you from using the training grounds.”

“What?!” Selena felt as though she had been struck by a war hammer. "Y-you can't do that. I-I'm Lady Camilla's retainer!"

Leo nodded morosely. "Quite. And thanks to her abdication, my subject."

Selena bit her tongue through seething anger and desperation. She couldn't lash out at the Crown Prince, but she also couldn't accept his judgement, lest she succumb to the gnawing abyss inside. "I need to train." She tried.

"You can train again. When I decide you're of stable temperament." Leo took a step away, halted by Selena leaping in front, hands outstretched.

"Your majesty." Selena grimaced from the wobble in her tone. She took a second to recompose herself. "I admit I went too far. I let my anger get to me. But I must ask you to reconsider." The act of begging was one Selena always hated. It was mortifying and humiliating. But it seemed to be her last option. "I cannot leave without Lady Camilla's permission. And she isn't giving me any tasks to do. I can't stand sitting inside right now. Please don't take this from me." Her voice fell to barely a whisper, her lip trembling.

Leo looked away, contemplating. "I appreciate your honesty. And I sympathize with what you're struggling with. So I will allow some concessions."

"Some?" Selena winced, holding back tears.

"I will permit you to use the training grounds." Leo held a hand up before she could reply. "But I still forbid you from sparring with the other soldiers."

That's it? Selena clenched her fist. What was the point in restricting her to a training dummy? It would give no reaction, no feedback, nothing she could work with and focus on. The fact that this judgement was all because of one retainer, who had no purpose being on a training ground, suffocated her with indignation.

Her feelings must've been clear, for Leo continued. "You know my father used to execute for less. Best case scenario he'd have troublesome soldiers flogged for transgressions. I'm merely asking you to refrain for a week. Is that truly such a cruel punishment?"

Yes it was, she wanted to scream, but instead she bowed her head. "No, Your Majesty. I… accept your judgement."

Leo sighed, his voice going soft. "We're all struggling, Selena. You'll struggle more if you keep fighting everyone." He turned to leave. "I will review your performance in a week. If you’re better I’ll let you spar again."

Selena didn't move from where she stood, head bowed, fists trembling. She didn't trust herself to not lash out in front of the King. Her fury roiled within, bubbling, threatening to burst. She tried a shaky breath to calm herself. Instead she punched the wall.

***

   Selena gripped her hand tight, stifling tears as she made her way down the hall. Each step was shaky, each breath was laboured. Though pride would not allow her to say it out loud, she needed Camilla. She wanted Camilla. She was unravelling, desperately clutching at any thread of composure she could muster. Even she could see that she needed a friendly voice. Someone who wouldn't berate her, or lecture her. Just someone she could simply be with without judgement. And Camilla was it.

She came to her room. Beruka stood by the door, as she had been for the last week. At Selena's approach she turned, brow furrowing. "Selena, what is it? Why are you walking like that?"

"Camilla." Selena rasped. "Is she awake?"

Beruka's eyes snapped from looking at Selena over. "She's asleep."

Selena drew a shaky breath so as to not scream then and there. "Of course she is."

"You're hurt." Beruka snatched her wrist, inspecting her bloodied knuckles.

Selena wrenched her arm back. "It's nothing, don't worry. Has she at least left us any instructions?"

“No. I’ve taken upon myself to guard her while she sleeps.”

No matter how many times Selena reminded herself of Beruka’s blunt mannerisms, she couldn’t perceive it as anything other than a dig at her. “Tch, typical.” She whipped around, storming off.

“Where are you going?”

"Like it matters."

***

   Selena hissed as she wound the bandage around her trembling hand. It seemed almost every other hour she was applying another bandage or mending another wound, each more vexing than the last. The audacity of her body crumbling was exacerbated by the tempest of her mind.

Seriously? Another wound? Three wars, but this is too much for you? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

She had to keep going. Sitting for even a moment invited an agony that no salve could ease. But her options were dwindling. She curled her hand into a fist to still the trembling. A knock drew her eyes up. Odin leant against the door, eyes grave and mouth firm.

“Have you come to scold me too?” She returned to fixing the bandages on her hand. “If so, I’m not interested.”

“No, no I just wanted to check up on you.”

“Yeah well, here I am.” She stretched her arms out, wincing as her shoulder twinged, prompting a concerned look from Odin. "Don't give me that look."

“Selena, please rest. Your body is ravaged. It’ll do you good.”

“And sit around while you read stuffy books? No thanks.”

“We don’t have to sit in my room. We could head into town, find a tavern to have a meal at.”

“Ugh I’m fine, I don’t need to rest, I need to work. Someone’s gotta around this place.”

“You’re wearing yourself down. Please, Selena, talk to me. What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?!" She all but shrieked. "I want to go home, Odin! I need to get away from here, I need to see our friends and family again. But I'm stuck here, existing day by day, getting either pitied or scolded. I'm going mad with nothing to do, yet all Camilla does is brush me off and tell me to rest."

"She's telling you that because you're wearing yourself down. What do you want, a never ending stream of missions?"

"I want someone to give a fuck! To actually acknowledge my pain. Not mock it, not ignore it! But no, Camilla's too consumed by herself to care, Beruka I don't think is capable of caring, and you just busy yourself in books so that you don't have to even try."

"That's not fair, Selena. My new position doesn't exactly leave me with much time, but I'm trying to be there for you."

"Yeah, and you're doing a great job of that, just like you did with Laslow."

What the FUCK is wrong with you?!

The moment she finished talking she knew she'd made a mistake. "Odin I didn't mean that. That's not what I--" She looked up just as Odin opened the door. *W-where are you going?" Desperation clawed into her throat.

Odin turned to her, his eyes moist yet furious.

“I know you're hurting. I can't even begin to fathom the pain you must be in." His voice was dark and trembling. "But I will not be a vessel for your rage.”
"Odin wait I--"

The door slammed, leaving Selena standing petrified in her room, hand outstretched and mouth agape, the last few words sitting on the tip of her tongue.

I'm sorry.

She stood there, unable to move. There went her last shred of support. Her last tie to her home. And she had driven him away. A cold loneliness settled on her. If only he had just stayed a second longer, if he had just listened it wouldn't be like this.

If you weren't such a bitch.

The world around faded as her failure bore down on her. Her loathing returned with such a force it was maddening. All she could do was clutch her hair and scream.

***

Odin shuffled down the hall as though he had returned from battle. In a way he had. The entire trip down he had assured himself over and over that this was just her venting. Their circumstances weren't exactly favourable. Of course she'd be prone to snapping. But her fury had seared him to the core and left wounds that would be slow to heal.

She's hurting. And so she's venting. You know Selena. You know her. So she snapped. It doesn't mean anything.

That wasn't snapping. That was just cruel.

Now Odin was at war with his own thoughts. The brittle defences of his rational mind, already shattered by Selena, was losing quickly to the burning of his heart.

He pushed on to the advisor's office, his new workstation shared with Niles as they aided their Lord, now King. Heaving the door open, he was greeted by Niles reclined on his chair, feet on desk. An affront to class, though Odin cared not to correct it.

"Odin my friend! Just the mage I wanted to see. Listen, a new tavern has opened in town, and I thought we'd check it out. For our Lord's security of course."

Any other day and Odin would've jumped at the chance. Instead he gave a disinterested groan and made for his desk.

"Uh oh." Niles was upright in an instant. "That doesn't sound good."

Odin pulled himself into his chair, struggling to keep his shuddering breath even. His head was aching from his inner debates, leaving him exhausted and his defences in shambles. He barely registered Niles sitting beside him.

"What happened?" Niles asked, his voice soft and comforting. "Is it about Laslow?"

Odin didn't respond.

"Selena?"

Niles was perceptive, something Odin had come to know very well. The inflections in his voice showed he knew what had transpired, or at least a fair idea. But it wasn't accusatory. It was sombre. Understanding. Mind lost to heart, and Odin broke, no longer restraining his feelings and rather submerging himself in them.

Niles abandoned all caution and professionalism, wrapping an arm around Odin's shoulder. "It's alright man. It's alright."

Chapter Text

   The wooden dummy shuddered with each furious blow of Selena’s sword. Straw flew out in clumps, the hessian covering having well and truly worn away from hours of vigorous training. Taking a pose, Selena gripped the training blade with a livid ardour, repeating the routine she had been doing for the last few hours. She huffed in disdain as her blade struck too low, knocking the dummy’s shoulder and missing its head. Shakily bringing the blade up, she repeated the strikes. And again. And once more, sweat stinging her eyes, the jarring impacts eliciting grunts of anger and sending painful surges down her arms.

“You’re still training?” Said a blank voice. Selena glared over her shoulder, her blade dipping in her trembling hands. Beruka stood stoically, still adorned in her armour.

“Is that a problem?” Selena blew a strand of her out of her face. Beruka glanced at the dummy, then to Selena’s slumped form, noting her heavy breathing.

“You’ve been training longer than usual. Too long.”

“I’ve fought longer and harder than this before, I can handle it,” Selena straightened herself to her full height.

“You’re fumbling. Your form is off, and you’re trembling,” Beruka noted, clasping her hands behind her back.

“I’m well aware of my flaws, thank you very much.” Selena raised her sword at Beruka. “That’s why I’m training. I don’t need you criticising my every move.”

Even through her anger, Selena saw Beruka wilt beneath her gaze. “It’s not your technique. You’re fatigued. You’ve trained too long, you’re just going to have more trouble unless you rest.”

“I. Am. Fine!” Selena snarled as she swung at the dummy, missing the shoulder and splintering the arm. Beruka winced slightly at the outburst. Selena’s breaths came in shaky rasps as she held her tears back. She refused to admit Beruka was right.

“Just… Just give me ten minutes. Okay?” Selena turned to her, “Is that alright with you?!”

Beruka glanced down, bowing slightly before leaving the seething mercenary to her training. Gripping her aching wrist, Selena resumed attacking the dummy with vitriol.

One. Two. Three. A slash. A thrust. A thud.

Selena glared at her blade through her sweat-soaked fringe. Barely a hand’s length of blade protruded from the training dummy, the rest lay buried within, caught on the wooden stake supporting it. With a huff, Selena gripped the handle, desperately tugging, trying to remove the blade. Nausea washed over her as she jerked forward, her sword firmly lodged. Selena pulled again. A splintering sound was her only warning before the sword came free, the momentum sending her hurtling.

Selena’s vision shook as her head pounded on the well-worn dirt. She whined as pain spasmed through her exhausted body, shuddering breaths barely suppressing the sobs that threatened to burst through her chest as her sword lay in the dirt. Failure and grief were overshadowed by frustration and rage when, with a scream, Selena pushed herself up, lunging at the battered dummy, pounding its head with her fists.

Blow after furious blow, Selena attacked the dummy, its pale, hair-like straw falling from the torn hessian. Her head pounded in pain, her throat stung, and her legs threatened to collapse, and still she punched, pouring her boiling rage into every swing, willing, praying that the pain within could be exhausted. And still it kept coming. Gods it kept coming.
The barrage of blows caused the weakened stake to splinter and snap, the dummy and Selena falling with a thud. Her breaths came in short, desperate rasps as she lay on the bifurcated dummy, tearing at it with splinter-ridden hands, her blood mingling with the straw of its head.

With a pitiful gasp, Selena lay one final, languid blow to the dummy before falling to the ground, clutching her chest. She lay atop the mound of straw and cloth, whimpering and twitching. Dirt clung to her face, the taste of straw and blood filled her mouth. She retched, coughing acrid bile onto the training ground.

Tears left dirty streaks down her cheeks as she wept against the straw, her rage subsiding into worthlessness and despair. She barely heard a cry though the ringing in her ears. She cracked her dirt covered eyes open, blearily making out a tall figure approaching her.

She breathlessly whined as she was turned onto her back. Her vision slowly focused on the figure; long, lavender hair hung over a distressed face. Lady Camilla. Her whispers were lost to Selena as she slid one arm underneath her, curling beneath her armpit and hoisting her to her feet.

Selena slumped against her liege as she was led towards the training grounds gates. Her breath dominated her hearing as she stumbled on unstable legs. Faint breaths against her ear told her Camilla was whispering to her, but the rattle of her chest and the pounding in her head drowned out anything the princess said. Selena’s legs slipped beneath her as she made contact with the smooth marble of the castle interior, her bloodstained hands clung to Camilla’s dress as she struggled to pull herself up, her legs kicking like an injured mule.

The world disappeared beneath her as Camilla slipped an arm beneath Selena’s knees, pulling her close to her chest in a protective embrace. Selena buried her face in Camilla's shoulder, losing herself in the warmth and darkness of Camilla’s embrace. The outside world faded away, all that was left was the rhythmic clicking of Camilla’s heels and her scent. When she dared to pull herself from Camilla’s folds, she was greeted with the warm interior of Camilla’s chambers. Through hazy eyes she glanced over the lavish furniture and immaculate paintings. Her head swam despite Camilla taking care to gently place her on the bed. She lay lamely, sinking into the soft covers while Camilla busied herself, inhaling the sweet scent of the sheets while her boots were untied and removed.

A small sigh of relief escaped her as a wet cloth was placed on her forehead and around her neck. A twinge of embarrassment flared within her as Camilla tenderly removed her gambeson, only to be overridden by sudden cold shocks as Camilla wrapped more wet strips of cloth around her aching joints, bringing temporary relief to them.

Slowly the ringing in her ears died down and her head stopped throbbing. For the first time in what seemed like a while, the world was quiet. A soft crackling punctuated the silence, followed by a soothing warmth and an orange glow. It took Selena a moment to realise that not only had Camilla started a fire, but it was raining outside as well. She glanced at the window. It was dark. How much time had passed? She thought it strange she had not noticed at first, but a fresh wave of nausea washed the thought away, leaving her to focus on the rain.

It was calming to listen to. Everything felt still and detached, like they were separated from the world, and such a notion soothed the ache in her heart.
Gently, Camilla lay herself beside selena, one arm draped around her, softly brushing her red hair out of her face. Selena barely moved.

"How are you feeling?" Camilla broke the silence.

It was a great effort for Selena to open her mouth. At first only air came from her aching throat. "Fine."

"What happened out there, Selena?"

"Nothing. I was just training."

"You collapsed." Camilla’s tone hardened. There was little point in lying to her.

"I may have overdone it. It doesn't matter."

"Doesn't matter?” Camilla frowned. “You could've seriously hurt yourself. You could've pushed yourself to the breaking point. You could've died."

"Why do you care?"

Camilla blinked, stunned and hurt. "What?"

"Why do you care? I'm just a retainer."

"You're more than just a retainer to me. You're precious to me. Talk to me. What's causing these outbursts?"

"What's the point? No one really cares. Everyone else gets to hide away and mourn, and I'm just expected to keep going."

“I see.” Camilla bowed her head. “I have failed you.”

Camilla's tone made Selena wilt. It wasn't fair to blame her. She sighed. "It's not your fault. I'm the one who's been acting out."

“Because no one's been there for you.” Camilla stared into nothingness, eye shining in the firelight. “You needed me, and I abandoned you. I'm sorry, Selena. I truly am.”

Selena shifted in the bed. “Lady Camilla, dont-”

“I've been too consumed in my own grief to recognise you also lost someone dear to you.”

Selena grimaced. She had lost someone dear to her. But he wasn’t the first. “I’ve lost so many people… I should be used to this.”

“If past loss is supposed to make you resilient, then I should be invulnerable.”

Selena snapped to attention as if water had been poured over her. “W-what?”

Camilla gave her a resigned sigh. “Xander and Elise… They aren’t the first siblings I’ve lost. My father had many concubines. He…” Camilla hummed, looking for an appropriate term that didn’t involved curses. “Loved easily and loved quickly. And sired many illegitimate children, such as myself. When Queen Katarina died, the concubines vied to fill the role, and used us, their own children, as their weapons.”

A chill fell over Selena. “You don’t mean..?” Surely not.

Camilla didn’t answer. Instead she raised a hand to her fringe, pulling the hair aside. It dawned on Selena she had never seen Camilla’s other eye, covered by hair as it always was. She never imagined this. A vicious scar ran diagonally over the socket, the eye itself glazed white. The implications made Selena sick.

“I watched many of them die.” Camilla let her hair fall back into place. “I even…” She trailed off, lost in a dark recollection, her expression familliar to Selena. She had seen it many times before. “All that to say, I know this pain most intimately. And if I can lock myself away for days on end, neglecting those around me, then it’s only fair you get time as well. So go on, Selena. Grieve. Grieve hard and grieve honestly. You’re safe here, no one will witness your sorrow, and I will hold you close, no matter how long you need. As I should have from the start.

"Lady Camil—" Selena’s voice broke.

She tried to speak but a lump formed in her throat. Cradled in Camilla’s arms, body aching, Selena’s tightly knit composure began to unravel, wildly flailing out of control. All the pain she had compressed, all of the sorrow and loneliness and regret, all of it rose from the depths she had so painstakingly suppressed it into. It quickly flowed through her, stifling her voice and stinging her eyes, clawing at the walls of her heart the wretched, stubborn side of her refused to tear down.

Camilla gently brushed a lock of her hair aside.
“Don’t hold back.”

With that small brush, the walls fell. Selena buried her face in Camilla’s robes as she broke, howling into her sleeve as the floodgates burst and the emotions poured unbridled, memories and regrets flooding her mind. Of her family she so suddenly left with the barest hint of a goodbye. Of her friends she had fought through hell and further with, living in blissful ignorance of the pain she would bring back with her. Of the only friend left to whom she had hurt in the cruelest way. Of her departed husband and the longing she had for him, the fury, the despair, the love that she’d never be able to bestow again.

Every breath was smothered with another sob. Each attempt to recompose herself failed as she was swept further and further by the current of her grief that now released would not be contained again. Through all of this, Camilla held her tight, shielding her from the world for one blissful moment.

“I am here.” She whispered, the tremble in her voice not unnoticed even at the depths of Selena’s sorrow. “I am here my darling. I will always be here.”

Soon enough, the sobbing slowed, the agonising grief faded and all went quiet. Selena stayed in her liege’s arms, unwilling to move. Though her sleeves were thoroughly saturated with Selena’s tears, Camilla’s maintained her soft and warm embrace, the crackling of the fire the only reminder of a world beyond the comforting darkness.

Camilla pulled back gently, keeping her hands firm and supportive around Selena. "Do you feel better now?"

Selena opened her eyes, her lids gunky from tears. She opened her mouth, her throat dry and croaky. "Not really. Just empty."

Camilla pulled her lips into a somber smile, placing a tender kiss to Selena's head. "That's good. That's good. Now we can begin healing."

"Lady Camilla, I–"

Camilla put a silencing finger to Selena's lips. "Selena. My precious Selena. I have failed you, and I bear that responsibility. But I promise, I will be by your side. I will help you through this healing period."

Selena pulled her head from Camilla's finger. "With respect, My Lady, I should be helping you. Not the other way around."

"Then we can help each other. Why sacrifice for one when we can support each other through the tempest? Selena please, I can't watch you wear yourself down for my sake. I… I love you too much to let you go on like this. So please, forget that you're my retainer for a moment, and let me help you."

"... Okay. Okay, we'll… support each other."

Camilla pulled Selena into an embrace she was too tired to resist. And deep down, she didn't want to.

“I should get going.” Selena pulled herself back, pushed down to the bed by the gentle yet firm hand of Camilla.

“Why don’t you stay here tonight?”

Selena’s cheeks flared red at the suggestion. “I-I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be proper.” She attempted to shift again, this time unable to support herself, falling into Camilla’s arm. Her liege gave her a small, gentle smile with a light scoff.

“I don’t care about what’s proper, I care only about you. Please, you can barely move, and do you really want to sleep in that cold, lonely chamber?”

The rhythmic motion of Camilla running her hand through her hair was soothing, as was the warmth of her body and the small but steady rise of her breaths. Lonely chamber… The thought of her room sent a small shiver through her. She couldn’t deny the comfort she felt swathed in the thick blankets, held up by her liege with the fire gently crackling. As she said, she felt empty, vulnerable to the cold. She snuggled into the crook of Camilla’s elbow, relishing the warmth.

“Alright, I give up.” She said with an affectionate smile, “I’ll stay, just for tonight.”

Camilla’s face lit up. It was a wondrous sight that for a brief moment made her forget everything and lose herself in the simple joy emanating from her eyes. She sighed as Camilla lightly kissed her forehead and wrapped her in a tight embrace. Her aching joints didn’t bother her, too enraptured in the comfort derived from human touch that she had denied herself of.

“Though I should at least go and get a change of clothes.”

“Nevermind that, I sent Beruka to retrieve some.” Camilla waved her hand, head shooting up when the door opened. “Ah, here she is now.”

Selena twisted her neck to watch Beruka march into the chambers, a small bundle of clothes in her hands. Were she not so tired, Selena would have been irritated at the prospect of Beruka sifting through her clothes. But what little shreds of anger she had were buried in a haze of drowsiness.

“Thank you so much Beruka, you’ve been such a help.” Camilla said as the clothes were laid on the bed. Selena recognised the simple tunic and pants brought in as the first clothes in her drawers, at the very least confirming Beruka had only grabbed the first thing she saw. A simple relief, though the small clothes still made her face hot with embarrassment.

“Do you need anything else, Lady Camilla?” Beruka asked with a slight bow.

Camilla shook her head, “No, that’ll be all my dear, I hereby relieve you of your duties for the rest of the night.”

A look of uncertainty flitted over Beruka’s face before she bowed. “Then I shall take my leave.” She didn’t make it to the door before Camilla spoke again.

“Beruka, why don’t you also stay the night with us?”

Hand still reaching for the handle, Beuka turned back to Camilla. She stood rigid, almost statuesque as she contemplated the offer. “Is that an order?”

Selena felt the chuckle rise from Camilla’s diaphragm. “No darling, it’s just a suggestion.”

“But is it what you wish?”

“I don’t want to impose, but I admit I would love it if you’d join us. I’m sure Selena wouldn’t oppose either?”

Beruka turned her attention to Selena, still nestled in Camilla’s arm. Selena opened her mouth to speak, her tongue felt swollen and lethargic with tiredness. She stifled a yawn as she thought. In truth, she did want Beruka to stay. Maybe it was her foggy head, maybe it was the fatigue, or maybe it was the bliss that human contact was giving her that made her crave it more. To simply sit and feel, to be with two people that knew her so well that she could drop all pretenses and know they wouldn’t care, was appealing. Camilla was right, she needed to open up more, she may as well start here. With a little effort, Selena lifted her arm, almost reaching out to Beruka like a child for its parent. She didn’t care how she looked, she just needed Beruka to know.

“I think that’s a yes.” Camilla said, clasping her hand.

Selena could have sworn she saw a faint smile tug at Beruka’s lips. “Very well, then I shall.”
Within a few minutes the three of them lay in the bed. Selena had quietly slipped into the fresh clothes while Beruka discarded her armour. Camilla sat in the centre, her right arm wrapped protectively around Selena, pulling her close, her left draped carefully over Beruka, giving the assassin enough space of her own. Selena curled into Camilla, laying an arm over her, quietly reaching for Beruka. To her surprise and glee, Beruka clasped her forearm. A simple gesture, virtually meaningless, but it still made her happy regardless. She wondered if Beruka even knew.

“My beautiful retainers. My darling girls.” Camilla cooed, kissing them both on the top of their heads. “I am so thankful you're at least still with me. Know that I will always love you, and I will never let anything happen to you.”

Beruka leant into her shoulder, humming in agreement.

“We love you too.” Selena mumbled, eyelids fallen and breath already slow. They slowly drifted to sleep, focusing on each other’s rising breaths. The turmoil still whirled within, but it was less now. It was a shared burden, one that Selena no longer felt compelled to fight alone. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, she slept in what resembled peace.

Chapter Text

   Sunlight flooded the room as the thick curtains were thrown open. Selena screwed her eyes shut against the glare, groaning as she rolled over, clawing at the covers and pulling them beneath her chin. 

“Selena look! The sun’s out.” 

She cast a salty glance back to the window. Camilla stood in front of the window, arms stretched high as if to try and gather the sunlight itself. Against the glare, she was completely silhouetted. 

“Yeah, that’s what happens in the morning.” She said with a poorly disguised grumble. If her liege noticed, she made no comment.

“We haven’t had sunshine like this in so long.” Camilla hummed with an affectionate sigh. It was true that Nohr was often blanketed by grey clouds, even more so during the winter. And this winter had been especially harsh. Still, Selena thought as she buried her head further into the blankets, silently relishing the warm smell of the fabric, was it really worth disturbing such a good sleep? She more than anyone could appreciate some sunlight, but there was a time and place. And right now, that place was in a warm bed and darkness. 

“Come on then darling.” Camilla chirped, lightly tugging at the covers that Selena held onto so desperately. 

“Why though?” She whined. “Where are we going?”

“Why, out of course. It’s a lovely day for a change.” Camilla’s tone softened to a quiet melancholy. “And I think we need the time out.”

Selena sat up, looking over to Camilla with bleary eyes. She could make out Camilla better now she had stepped closer. Despite her well toned body, she looked frail, oh so frail. Her shoulders scrunched up as if she were trying to fold in on herself, her hands gripped her forearms, and her sleep-ridden hair could not hide the slim smile, nor the shine in her eyes. For the briefest of moments, Selena was reminded of Noire. And like that her resolve to argue melted away, replaced with an exaggerated groan and a small smile. 

***

   The city was already wide awake. Barely a few steps in and tenders were already shouting about their wares. The streets were still wet from rain the night before, leaving small pools of water in the cobblestone that shone like diamonds in the sunlight, giving the illusion of walking on a treasure trove. 

Selena felt rather strange walking the stone streets of Windmire. Under Leo’s new reforms, many of the underground merchants had begun to bring their wares to the surface, free from Garon’s persecutions. The new bustle of the streets was a slight shock, but seeing the serene look on Camilla’s face was enough to lighten Selena’s mood. From stall to stall, they made their way through the town. Beruka clung to Camilla more than Selena, not used to the sudden peace that pervaded the streets, always on alert for a potential threat. Selena was less fazed by the change in mood, Camilla was right, the day was lovely. 

While Camilla busied herself inspecting various reels of colourful fabrics, Selena leant against a wall, closing her eyes and soaking in the atmosphere, the warm beams of the sun complementing the smell of freshly baked bread, while the constant chatter of the townsfolk encased her within a bubble of energy and happiness. It was almost frightening just how much Windmire had changed since Garon’s death, yet Selena reminded herself that it was for the better, and as she watched a group of kids running past a chairmaker, she took a small hint of pride knowing that she had contributed, however small it was. 

The looks of the townsfolk did not go unnoticed to her. She saw the recognition in their eyes as Camilla walked past, even Beruka or herself for that matter. But what made her chest stir was the feelings behind those looks. Not resentment or fear like she had worried, but excitement and wonder, laced in with sadness and pity. 

Is that Princess Camilla?

She looks stunning.

I didn't think she'd be out. I wonder how she’s coping. 

Who's that other girl with her? Is that her retainer? She looks so sad, did she lose someone too?

A strange mixture of emotions stirred within. These people actually felt sympathy for their princess. Even for her. One part of her, the bitter abandoned child part, wanted to scream at them to mind their own business, that their pity was not wanted. But another part was grateful, knowing that these random strangers, who likely only know her as the sword of Camilla, would think of them in such a way. 

Growing restless beneath the querying looks of the townsfold, Selena began moving again, flicking from stall to stall, glancing from the vibrant fabrics to the masterfully made ceramics to the hand woven baskets and the wooden furniture, gaze barely lingering a few seconds. She ran a hand through a roll of shimmering azure cloth, drawing as much pleasure from the soft and warm fabric as she could, desperately trying to dispel the empty feeling in her chest. 

They weren't in town just because the sun was out, She knew this. Camilla had deliberately dragged her out here in an effort to try and make her feel better, knowing just how much she enjoyed shopping. But lost in the blue folds, she felt nothing. Her eyes began to sting, she gripped the fabric as frustration began to creep within her. Fighting her own grief,  Camilla had brought her here to try and distract her, and she couldn't even muster the energy to even feign interest. Why should Camilla even bother? 

“Selena.”

She turned to see Beruka, lightly tugging at her sleeve, a strange intensity behind her otherwise blank stare. “Didn't you say you wanted to buy matching rings?”

Selena blinked in surprise and her cheeks grew warm. It took her a moment to put the pieces together. Ages ago, before the war effort flared up, she had suggested buying matching rings for Camilla, Beruka and herself. How did Beruka even remember that? Her heart fluttered a little, and grief be damned, a small  genuine smile was forming. 

Beruka motioned to a jewellery shop with a dark wooden door, the display window practically shining against it. They entered and politely greeted the woman at the desk. Bent over racks of rings, the two inspected the many rings on offer. 

“What about this?” Beruka said, pointing to a group of rings. 

One look had Selena scrunching her nose, “Yeugh, if you want gaudy then sure.” 

Without acknowledging the response, Beruka resumed looking, picking up a red and gold ring. 

“How about this one?” 

At first glance it seemed ok, but the gold was garishly bright and the red detailing was too cluttered for the eyes to make sense of it. “Nah.”

Unperturbed, Beruka continued filtering through rings, picking them up with the barest hint of consideration for Selena to inspect. Each time Selena screwed her nose up, Beruka would simply move on. It was as if Beruka had no idea what made a good ring.

Oh gods.

It dawned on Selena that that was actually the case. As a master assassin, Beruka would have no need to understand the finer points of jewellery. She was literally scouting for her. She nearly laughed from the thought. 

“Okay okay, leave this to an expert.” Selena smirked. Beruka had a look of gratitude that her ordeal was over. Reinvigorated, Selena scoured the racks with a marksman’s eye, finding a fine silver ring with delicate leaf engravings, in the centre a slot for a stone nestled in the middle of the Nohrian Sigil. It was sleek enough for an assassin and detailed enough for a princess. It was perfect. 

Selena had three made, each with a different stone. A ruby, a teal sapphire, and an amethyst. With their bounty secured, they swiftly returned to Camilla, standing in the street looking around for them, her pinched brows melting into a look of contentment. Selena shuffled up to Camilla, hands behind her back.

“What have you two been up to?” Camilla regarded them with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

Without saying a word, Selena presented a pouch to Camilla. With a puzzled look, Camilla reached in, pulling out the ring. She turned it over, a wobbly smile forming. “Oh it’s wonderful darling. But, what’s this for?”

“Just a little something for us to remember each other by.” Selena held up her hand, the ruby ring already affixed. She grabbed Beruka’s wrist to show off her ring as well. Camilla held a hand to her mouth, eye shining. She slipped the ring on and examined it, practically in awe of it. The sight made Selena’s chest swell with joy and pride.

“So where to next?” Camilla practically bounced. 

“I need to restock on my munitions.” Beruka offered, much to Camilla’s amusement.

Selena let them walk ahead. She spied a book shop, a variety of tomes and manuscripts filling the front window. A creeping guilt wormed into her heart. Fingers feeling her dwindling coin purse, she made for the shop.

***

   -Nary a breeze stirred as the warrior drew his slender blade, the tip igniting with a flame of a most terrifying and exquisite hue of sapphire.

Casting his gaze skyward, he locked eyes with the Radiant Lady of Flames, the inferno within her cast its heat of passion through him, the raw emotion felt betwixt their loving stare brought upon a surge of passion like a raging fire.

 With the grace never seen by mortal eyes, she leapt into the swarm, effortlessly carving through the masses of flesh and steel, and he, inspired by her blaze of glory, joined her, his strikes like the flick of a dancer's arm, his-

 A soft knock brought Odin’s mind away from his writings. He blinked in irritation and surprise; apart from Lord Leo, he was never disturbed at this hour. Another knock. Sighing, he set the pen in its ink fountain. He shuffled over to the door, mind trying to figure out who would need him. He was surprised upon opening the door.

“Selena?”

Selena shuffled in the doorway, clutching a rectangular parcel. Her eyes kept darting around, her mouth opening and closing. 

“Is everything okay?”

Selena fidgeted with the parcel. She tried to speak again before shoving the parcel into Odin’s hands. He fumbled with the parcel, glancing up to her. She stood rooted to the spot, though unable to make eye contact, instead staring at the package. Odin took the hint, unwrapping the package to reveal a red leather bound tome with black metal detailing. He ran a hand over it. It was exquisite in its detail. He opened the book, flicking through blank pages. Only the front page had any writing.

I’m sorry.

Odin exhaled a shuddering breath at the words.

“I know it doesn’t make up for what I said.” Selena croaked, eyes still averted from him. “But…” She stood for a painfully long time, her brow furrowing further as she wrestled with her own insecurities. Odin was torn between reaching out and waiting. Selena exhaled sharply and turned to leave.

“Selena, wait!” Odin lurched forward and grabbed her wrist. He expected her to wrench her hand away or yell at him. Instead she just looked back with frightened eyes. “Did you, uh, wanna come in?” 

Selena let him lead her into his room, veering towards the table sitting in the middle of the room and slipping into one of the chairs. The tension was thick and heavy. Neither spoke. Odin struggled to think of an ice breaker. How could he? When his heart was still seared by her words. Yet every time he looked at her the anger subsided. He held the tome up. 

“It’s an exquisite book!” He made a show of turning it over, running his fingers over the spine.

“Glad you like it.” Selena tore her gaze from the wall to look at Odin, or rather his chest. “It’s just a notebook but… it reminded me of you.”

Odin rubbed the front cover. It reminded her of him? Though he wouldn’t say it aloud, it was nice he had been on her mind. “Well, every mighty mage needs his dark grimoire.”

Selena nodded in half-hearted agreement. “So how are you holding up overall?”

Odin sat in front of her, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you want an honest answer?”

“I want the Owain answer.” She had a strange, hopeful look in her eyes.

Odin hesitated at the request, but took a deep breath and made a gesture with his arm.

“For certain! For while the sorrowful spectres of…. Sadness, may overhang, willing to drag me to…. More.. sorrow?” Selena stared pitifully at him, at his crinkled brow and dropping hand.

He took another shaky breath, willing his strength to come back. “Tis but fuel for my dark aura, to give me strength to… try not being sad?”  He dropped his hand dejectedly.

“I'm sorry.” He hung his head, “I can't. Nothing's coming to me.”

“No, it's okay, really.” Selena averted her eyes, remorse working its way into her voice.

“I just can't seem to come up with anything. Without him…. I don't have the inspiration.”

 “Odin, really it's fine. I shouldn't have asked.”

 “It's not your fault, It's just me really.

 “Oh my gods, I'm sorry okay?!” Selena slammed her hands on the table. Odin slowly looked up, shining eyes matching hers. She looked distraught rather than angry.

She gripped her head in her hands, loudly groaning as she bowed her head.

“How?” she demanded. “How are you so calm?”

 “I’m not following?”

“How are you not yelling at me right now? After what I said to you, how I treated you, how can you just casually talk to me like nothing happened? Didn't it upset you even in the slightest?” Tears fell unacknowledged down her cheeks.

Odin adjusted himself. “I will admit, I was hurt.” Selena nodded, finally getting the confession she wanted. “That being said  I knew that wasn't what the heart truly felt.”

Selena blinked a few times in confusion. Odin took the opportunity to continue.

“Selena, we lost a friend, and you lost a husband. One of the most sacred of bonds, and you lost it. Of course you were going to react spontaneously.”

Selena began to rebut, Odin cutting her off.

“After everything we've been through, I like to think I know you. And I know how hard grief can hit you. You've always had trouble expressing your feelings.”

Selena sniffed, a weak smile forming on her face. “Yeah, Camilla’s trying to help with that.” A small giggle slipped out. “Still, you didn’t deserve it. I shouldn't have treated you like that.”

Odin gave a small smile. “We make mistakes and say things we don't mean when enraptured in unbridled emotions. But I know we can move on, for him.”

 “I don't deserve you.” Selena laughed.

“You deserve much more,” Odin muttered, too low for Selena to hear.

***

   They sat in silence for a while. The tension having disappeared, left a sombre yet comfortable atmosphere.

Selena quietly drummed her fingers on the table, glancing around the room at the stacks of tomes and papers covered in indecipherable scribbles. He was tidy, a surprise given his usually bombastic nature. Many spent candles littered the writing desk.

"Would you like a drink?” Odin slid his chair back. “Tea?”

A small pang hit her in the chest, her cheeks scrunched.

“R-right.” Odin winced, “How about some wine then?”

Selena looked up with mocking incredulity. “When have you ever known me to like wine?”

“You're right. Let Me have a look.”

“You have a cupboard full of alcohol?”

“Yes and no. It's mainly for potions and hexes, but it's also the only place to store some.”

Selena meandered the room as Odin busied himself looking for a drink.

She looked across the various tomes that sat by the writing desk. Several dark magic tomes had their seals broken.

To the right lay an open book with pages of writing, some of the ink still drying.

“Writing again, I see?”

“Uh yeah,” Odin stuttered from the back, “Just a little something to keep me occupied.” He sounded almost hesitant.

Curiosity getting the better of her, Selena bent to read a paragraph.

“Is this what I think it is?” She asked with a humoured tone.

There was a rustle and clacking of bottles.

“I, uh, that is to say….yes.” Odin admitted, defeated.

“Oh that is so sweet,” Selena cackled, not out of spite or to mock, but from genuine mirth.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up.”

Selena twirled around with a scandalous look. “No no, I'm sorry,” She continued to laugh, warmth flooding her chest, “It is sweet, really. I like it.”

Odin looked back at her with a dash of melancholy and pride. “I'm glad you think so. When I write about him… It's like he's still here.”

 Selena hummed, returning the sentiment, brushing her fingers over the page as if she could touch him through the words.

• With the brush of her scorching lips, the flames of life roared through his body, his chest heaving with new air gifted unto him from her. -

Oh how she wished she could make such a reality happen. A tear fell, blotting the bottom corner of the paper.

“Find anything yet?” She glanced back, discreetly wiping her eyes.

Odin brushes aside more bottles of who knows what, “Not much that is worth having.”

Selena glanced inside the cabinet, laying eyes on a black bottle with blue swirls.

“What about that one?”

Odin picked up the bottle in question, reading the label.

“Cyrkensian Ale. Interesting. I believe Niles got me this one.”

“How strong is it?”

He flipped the bottle over  squinting at the cursive writing.

“45 percent.”

“Well then.” Selena sat in the chair eagerly. “Let's have it.”

After a pause of incredulity, Odin brought the ale over, placing two tankards between them. He poured half a tankard of the liquid, a dark shade of red, likely a dye of some sort. He poured Selena’s drink, chuckling when she put two fingers on the bottleneck to make sure he didn't stop until it reached the top.

Fastening the cork back in the bottle, the two held their drinks up.

“To Laslow.” Said Selena.

“To Inigo.” Odin concluded. They clacked their tankards in a toast, taking a deep gulp of the bitter liquid. Selena finished the drink, defiantly staring at a surprised Odin who had a quarter yet to go.

She pointed expectantly at the empty cup, waiting for Odin to refill it. With a look of resignation, he began pouring her another drink. For the first time that night, a mischievous spark lit in his eyes.

“Did I ever tell you about the time Laslow tried to blackmail me?”

Selena scoffed, nearly choking on her drink, “Excuse me, what?”

“He threatened to tell Lord Leo I had been shirking my training.” He chuckled, “I threatened to tell Xander the same thing.”

Selena giggled at the immature scenario, sitting in intrigued silence as Odin continued his story.

The night went on as stories were shared and ale was drunk. Selena couldn't be sure if it was the alcohol, or simple acceptance that dulled the ache in her chest.

Her and Odin laughed as they recounted the numerous tales related to Laslow, from secret dance practices, to humorous scoldings from Xander, to the teases and pranks they pulled in their free time.

They cried as near death scenarios crept in. As memories of close calls had them awake all night, fraught with worry. The look Laslow had after the encounter in Cyrkensia.

They smiled as they remembered the quieter moments. Walking through a Nohrian marketplace, sharing tea, basking in a life that was as much theirs as it was not. A life that wasn't marred by a fell dragon, or time travel. One where they could act and be as they wished, free from constraints and past expectations.

But above all else, it was the lack of pain that Selena was grateful for. This was the first time they'd spoken about Laslow in any great detail since that night, and it didn't hurt like it had. Her heart ached for him, but she could bear it. As the familiar sensation crept into her, not too dissimilar to when her mother died, she felt a certain contentment.

This feeling would continue as more stories unfolded between them. Even when broaching the future.

“And he wanted ” Selena laughed, propping herself lazily on one arm, her head light and drowsy. “regardless whether it was a boy or girl, that our first child’s name would relate to the sun.”

Odin looked perplexed, helped in no small part by his drunken, unfocused eyes. “The sun? But why?”

“Heh, well, as he put it.” She pushed herself up, adopting an exaggerated pose and dropping her voice. “ They would be my little ball of sunshine, and you would be my lovely moonlight .”

Odin thumped his head on the wood as he burst into a fit of hysterical laughter. Selena couldn't tell if it was from the story or her ridiculous impersonation, but found herself laughing along with him.

Selena glanced at the window, blearily realising the late hour.

“Gods, how late is it?” She hefted herself onto shaky legs, the sudden weightless sensation reminding her how drunk she was. “I should go.”

“What? Are you sure that's a good idea?” Odin started, knocking the empty bottles to the ground.

“Course it is.” Selena stumbled towards the door, gripping the table rim to steady herself.

“The woes of alcohol have you firmly in their grasp, you couldn't walk back if you tried.

“Pfft, please, I'm more than coordinated.” She said, tripping on herself, slumping onto Odin's bed. She blinked a few times, giggling at Odin's stupefied expression. “Okay, I maaay be a little tipsy.”

She absentmindedly ran her hand over the bed covers, detached from reality, only registering how soft the bed was.

“Alright, I'll just sober up for a little bit, then I'll head out, is that fine with you?” She asked with an exaggerated sneer, flopping unceremoniously onto the mattress.

Odin nodded approvingly, still seated at the table. Selena stifled a yawn, her vision blurring with sleep and lingering tears. The sudden void of conversation brought a melancholy air to the room.

“Odin?” The mage looked up, eyes almost closed. “Thanks for tonight. I really needed it.”

Odin gave her a sad smile, “Tis quite alright, there's no need to thank me.”

“You're great, you know that?” He looked stunned at her sudden confession. “I know I don't say it a lot, and I tease you relentlessly, but I'm glad you're here with me.”

Her eyes watered with the emotions.

Odin knelt in front of her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Peace, Selena. I know.” She went to speak but he shook his head and squeezed her shoulder. “Rest, dear friend. Rest with the knowledge that I know, and I shan't abandon you.”

Selena looked as if to say more, but instead smiled. Comfort mingled with the ache in her chest, knowing at least she had begun to mend things, and was not alone.

“H-hey.” She looked away in embarrassment. “Do you think you could do that dream spell thing of yours?”

A variety of emotions washed over his face before settling on acceptance. “Of course, my friend. What do you wish to see?”

Part of her knew she shouldn't. Knew it'd only prolong the pain. But here and now, drifting in and out of sleep, high on the strange sensation of peace and contentment, with her only connection to home, she didn't care. Just this once. That was okay, wasn't it?

“Him. Back home.”

Her lids fell, and she surrendered to sleep as the last syllable left her lips.

Chapter Text

   The first sensation she felt was a lethargic lightness. Selena slowly cracked her eyes open, wincing at the dull pounding in her head and her thick, dry throat. Time seemed to simultaneously race and drag while she stared blearily at the ceiling. She rolled onto her side, tired eyes falling on Odin, who lay on a spread of blankets on the floor arranged in a similar fashion to a bed. He looked up at her, the clarity of his eyes showing he had been awake for a while.

“You know you could have slept up here?” Selena groaned, scrunching her eyes against the harsh light, “Plenty of room.”

Odin gave a raspy laugh, “I could've, but you looked so serene, and I didn't want to disturb you.”

“Heh, well it was a really good sleep.” She stretched, “Best I've had in ages, so good call I guess.”

There was a brief stretch of silence punctuated only by Selena's drowsy breathing.

“So it was good then?”

Selena could hear the hesitation in his voice. She felt her chest constrict slightly as she recalled the dream, her awareness starting to return. She smiled in spite of this.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was. You really outdid yourself.” Odin looked pleasantly surprised. Selena kept talking in spite of herself. “We lived in a small town just north of Ylisstol. Nice house. And a baby.” She thumbed the sheets, “A little girl, her name-”

Three sharp, precise knocks came from the door. Selena scrunched her eyes shut, wincing as her head throbbed and scowling at the intrusion. With a call, Odin pulled himself towards the door.

“Beruka?

Selena forced her eyes open. What could Beruka want with Odin?

“How may I be of-”

“Where is Selena?” She cut in. Selena knew Beruka enough to hear the urgency in her voice. With a tinge of concern, she rolled to face the door. Odin tentatively turned to Selena, revealing Beruka behind him, lacking her headband and armour, causing more concern for Selena. Her eyes fell on Selena.

“You.” Without waiting for Odin or Selena to respond, Beruka marched into the room, seizing her by the wrist.

“Hey!” Selena pulled her arm away, “You mind telling me what's going on?”

Beruka fixed her with a disapproving glare, “Lady Camilla is looking for you.” She grabbed Selena's wrist again, pulling her towards the door. She stumbled, struggling to pull against Beruka and stand.

“Alright, alright, you don't need to pull.”

***

   Beruka opened the door to Camilla's room, Selena tentatively following. She suppressed her shaking as she stood at attention. Camilla didn't notice her retainers, preoccupied with her own thoughts, anxiously pacing the floor and wringing her hands, her hair pulled from its tie and messily hanging over her shoulders.

“Lady Camilla, I found her.” Beruka cleared her throat.

Camilla turned to them, taking a moment to process everything that was happening. Selena forced a small smile. She barely opened her mouth to greet her liege when she was upon her, shaking hands gripping her shoulders with feverence.

“Where have you been?” She demanded, frantic eyes boring into Selena's.

Selena was so taken aback that she could barely speak. “I-I was just, I was with-”

“Do you realise how worried I've been?” Camilla cut in, “How sick and anxious I've felt?”

“Lady Camilla its okay, I'm fine.” Selena tries to assure her, wilting beneath her glare. Her claw-like grip loosened but still remained affixed to her shoulders.

“I went to your room, but you weren't there, and you didn't look like you had all night.” Camilla’s voice began to waver, tears forming at the corner of her eyes, “I feared the worst. I thought….. I thought you'd-”

“Lady Camilla, Lady Camilla, come on,” Selena soothed, reaching up to clasp Camilla's wrists reassuringly, “I'm alright, really. I was just with Odin last night.”

Selena couldn't tell if Camilla was about to breathe a sigh of relief or cry, her twitching brow confusing her. “Odin?” Selena nodded. Camilla's cheeks scrunched in query, “Have you been drinking?”

Selena blushed with embarrassment. “Y-yeah. He and I talked last night. We had some drinks to lift the mood a little. That's all. I lost track of time, and I fell asleep. That's where I was, I swear.”

Camilla’s eyes darted around as she processed everything. A small, watery smile formed as relief set in.

Selena reached forward and put her hand on Camilla cheek, drawing her gaze back to her. “Hey, hey. It's alright. I'm still here.”

“Of course,” She breathed, features melting into her signature smile, eyes less frantic, “Of course you are.” She stroked Selena's cheek in return, “My precious Selena. Sorry, I'm just being silly.”

Selena’s shoulders slumped with remorse, “No, no don't. Don't feel guilty for worrying. Not when…” She stopped herself, wary of broaching such a sensitive subject. To her relief, Camilla gave her a grateful smile.

“So long as you are safe.” She rubbed her cheek with her thumb before straightening herself up. “I was thinking of visiting Xander and Elise today. I’ve neglected them as much as I’ve neglected you. Would you like to come?”

Selena took her time to answer. To visit Xander would also mean visiting Laslow. The last she actually saw Laslow was when he was interred into the crypt with Xander and Peri. She had grown so used to her destructively productive habits that she almost forgot he lay there, despite him being the source of her grief. Trepidation and guilt warred within.

“Yeah, sure.” She lifted her head with a flimsy smile. “I can take the time to visit Laslow too.”
“We’ll support each other.” Camilla reached for her hand, clasping it tight. “Come then, let's have some breakfast, then we’ll go.”

***

   The mausoleum was no less intimidating now as it was during the funeral. Selena still shivered as she stepped over the threshold into the viewing chamber. The pedestal that dominated the centre of the room lay unoccupied; Garon having long since been interred. Even during the day, candles lit the many corners of the room and lavender burned in copper pots, filling the air with the sharp scent.

The workers looked up at the sight of Camilla, though none moved to approach her, which suited Selena fine. Beruka trailed behind them, ever wary of their surroundings. Crossing the octagonal chamber, they made their way for the wrought iron doors on the other side. The air that came from the crypts was cold and damp, though not rotting. Camilla stopped at the entrance and looked at Selena. With a reassuring squeeze, she entered the crypt, retainers following.

The tunnels of the Crypts were far less meticulous than the viewing chamber. No obsidian pillars held its roof aloft. No stone benches lined its walls. No drapes or cushions covered the numerous tombs. All in all, the crypts were a set of labyrinthian limestone halls with recesses in the walls where the sarcophaguses of the Royals were set. Each step forward weighed down on Selena’s heart. Somewhere in here, lay Laslow. It was silent in the crypts, save for the clicks of their heels and the distant clinks of workers expanding the crypts.

The tombs fluctuated in quality as they went further. Some had exquisitely decorated sarcophagi, complete with royal purple sashes, weapons and treasures, and some even featuring gemstone statues. Others were far more tame, simply having an engraved stone sarcophagus with a statue and maybe a personal item. Some were simple stone boxes with a plaque reading the name. Selena followed closely behind Camilla, who led the way based off the ruler in question. Camilla stopped, staring into a particular recess. Following her eyes, Selena looked into the tomb in question. Two sarcophagi sat side by side, one considerably newer than the other, name plaques Selena couldn’t read adoring their lids. She didn’t need to though. Centred above them was a statue, caked with dust though still quite distinguishable. Expertly hewn from a single slab of stone was a couple, held in each other’s arms, locked in an eternal ballroom dance. The woman was unfamiliar to Selena, though the man was clearly Garon, if not a little younger. She had to wonder how old the statue was.

Camilla gave a quiet laugh. “That must’ve been made when Katarina died. I forget sometimes he used to be quite the romantic.” With a wistful sigh, Camilla moved on. The next tomb held Xander. No statue adorned this one, though Selena surmised it was being constructed. Xander’s sarcophagus sat in the middle, wreathed with candles. To its sides sat two considerably simpler looking sarcophagi. Swallowing, Selena approached the leftmost one. The plaque read:

Sir Laslow the Swift
A brave and loyal retainer til the end.

She almost smiled. How he had received such a title she did not know. But after everything he had been through, she was grateful for it. She looked around. Camilla was standing over Xander’s sarcophagus, hands spread on the lid, speaking in hushed tones to him. Beruka remained by the opening of the tomb. Bringing her head around, Selena’s gaze landed on Peri’s sarcophagus. Selena shuddered as a strange sense of loneliness washed over her. Not for her, but for Peri. Who would even visit Peri? Sure she had questionable interests, but the few times Selena had spoken with Peri they got along well. Shaking off her sudden feelings, Selena turned back to Laslow as Camilla turned and left, presumably for Elise’s crypt.

Alone now, Selena lay a hand on Laslow’s name. It was the first true acknowledgement he was gone. To think that beneath a few inches of stone lay her husband. That after years of fighting to survive, or protecting each other, he now lay here, never to move again. The thought made her nauseous, and every word she tried to say lodged in her throat. Her cheeks grew hot and her eyes wet. She should say something. Anything. But somehow, she couldn’t.

A small hand rested on her shoulder. She looked up to see Beruka. In the dim candlelight she could tell Beruka was rehearsing something. Finally, Beruka opened her mouth.

“It’s okay to cry. If you need to.”

Selena blinked. This was the second time Beruka had surprised her with an act of compassion. Beruka’s eyes flicked around, clearly uncomfortable with attempting to be supportive. Selena lay her hand on Beruka’s in gratitude.

“Thanks, but I don’t need to.” Selena turned to the entrance. “I think I just need to get out of here.” She mentally promised to make it up to Laslow and left. She marched over to Elise’s crypt, stunned to see the sarcophagus sitting on its own.

“Where’s Lady Camilla?”

Beruka tilted her head towards another crypt. From the angle they had come in on, Selena had not seen it for the pillar near its entrance. She
looked in and immediately took a step back.

The crypt was densely packed with several
small sarcophagi, at least a dozen. Some weren’t even proper sarcophagi; just coffins imprinted with the royal seal. None of them were large enough for an adult. A couple of urns sat nestled in recesses in the wall. And standing amongst them all was Camilla, brow furrowed as she regarded each one.

“Lady Camilla?” Selena approached. “What is all this?”

Camilla didn’t turn to her. “The other children.”

“Ch-children?” Selena’s stomach dropped.

Camilla raised a hand to one of the coffins inset into the wall. “My other siblings.” Her voice was light, a hint of astonishment, as if she’d found a long lost treasure.

The pieces clicked for Selena. “The ones you mentioned. The ones born to the concubines.”

“Yes.” Camilla glided among the children, hands brushing each box with the same tenderness she had caressed Selena with earlier. Her eyes were wide. “I never knew they were down here. Mother never let me enter the crypts. To think, this whole time my family I thought lost forever, was here.”

The way Camilla floated between them unnerved Selena. “Is this all of them?”

Camilla surveyed the plaques. “No. There were more. But we never found some of them.” Her voice trembled; whether with grief or rage, Selena could not place. She stood rooted to the spot, unsure how to proceed. Camilla prowled around the crypt, and she dared not disturb her. Yet the longer Camilla looked, the more her composure waned. Suddenly, Camilla turned, leaving the crypt at a startling speed.

“I think that’s enough.” She made her way down the corridor, stopping to turn to Selena.

“Unless, you want more time.” she said softly.

Selena contemplated returning to Laslow, but found her legs unwilling. She gently shook her head and followed Camilla. Beruka gave her a tilted look, receiving a shrug from Selena. The journey back to the entrance of the crypts was a silent, solemn one. It had not been as cathartic as Selena had hoped, and the unspoken words surrounding the discovery hung in the air like mould. A thought occurred to Selena. One that may be contributing to Camilla’s mood. She chose her words carefully.

“Just out of curiosity… Is your mother buried here?”

Camilla stopped and looked back. “No, no. The Concubines wouldn’t be buried down here. They weren’t royalty.” Selena could have sworn she saw a glint of satisfaction in Camilla’s eye before she turned back. “Besides… There wasn’t enough left of my mother for them to bury.”

Chapter Text

   The bow creaked as Selena drew the arrow back. The sounds of the training grounds faded away as she focused on the targets. Her eye trained on the centre circle, she steadied her breath and let the arrow fly. It hit the second ring of the target. She grumbled. Too low.

Think less about the target and more about the bow. Feel it, let it feel you.

Noire's words echoed in Selena's mind, a relic of a distant past Selena often forgot. There, she was Severa, a warrior of the future who helped save a world from certain annihilation. Her mother was a phenomenal Pegasus knight. Her Father an amazing cavalryman. 

At least that's what she told herself. Here she was Selena, retainer to Princess Camilla of Nohr. Her life was dominated by attending to Camilla. Her life was Camilla. Camilla was so all encompassing, it was hard to imagine any other life.

Still, every time she drew the bow, she was reminded of Noire, and the down time they spent together, what little there was. It was therapeutic in its own way. And since King Leo hadn't granted her permission to spar with the other soldiers, this would be the next best thing. She let the arrow loose again, it struck further off than the other one.

"You need to raise your arm more."

That voice….

Selena drew an arrow and whirled around, aiming at Niles.

"Whoa easy there." Niles held his hands up. "I come in peace."

Selena tilted her head with a slight smirk. "Didn't think peace was an option for you."

"I have my moments." Niles took a step forward, stopping when Selena drew the bow harder. "No games I promise, I just wanted to apologise."

Selena raised an eyebrow. "Is that an order from the King?"

Niles laughed, a genuine, self deprecating laugh. "No no, this is of my own volition. While I still think you were too vicious with the soldiers-"

"Pretty poor apology so far."

"--I admit I went too far. The dig about Camilla was unwarranted."

Selena's arm dipped. There wasn’t a hint of malice or insecurity to his voice. The spiteful child inside yearned to chew him out for it, make him grovel for forgiveness, to grind his mistake into his face so hard it left an imprint. But she understood. If there were any similarities between them, it was that itching, suffocating urge to knock a presumptuous little shit down a peg when they got out of hand. And the best way was to find their one weakness and exploit it, find their deepest, most hidden insecurity and bring it to the surface, tarnish their perfect persona and show they were no better than the rest of them. It was cruel, but effective. Could Selena say she would have done differently were the roles reversed? 

"I compared you to Odin too much.” Niles continued. “You both lost the same person, yet he seemed to take it better. That's an error on my part. So for Odin's sake, I want to bury the hatchet."

Odin… Selena didn’t regret pulverising Niles, or being heavy handed with the soldiers. But she regretted lashing out at Odin. Even after they talked, the air between them was heavy. Odin had often compared Selena’s rage to a firestorm. Swift and devastating, leaving destruction in its aftermath. He usually said it in jest, referring to her stripping down people’s egos. But that afternoon it had been genuine. He would nurse that burn for quite some time. It probably pained him to see his two friends fighting. With a sigh, Selenan relented, but only because her arm was tired.

"You're still an asshole, you know that." Selena winked.

Niles shrugged with a chuckle. "It is one of my charming qualities."

They shared a laugh, the tension evaporated. A figure came running into the archery grounds, their teal hair clashing brilliantly against the dull grey stone walls.. 

"Morning Beruka." Selena waved. "What's the rush?"

Beruka came to a stop, puffing her cheeks in irritation. "Camilla's been looking for you. Why didn't you say you were training?"

Selena threw her hands up. "I told her I was going to be training in the morning."

"Maybe next time leave a note." Beruka huffed. "In any case, we're nearly ready to leave."

Selena gripped the bow. That's right, today they would set out for Hoshido to witness Ryoma's coronation. She dreaded the trip since they got the letter last week. 

"Alright, I'll be along in a minute." Selena turned to Niles, jabbing the arrow at him. "And you should be with your King.

"Whoops." Niles shrugged sheepishly.

***

   Selena sat unsteady in the wyvern saddle, held straight by Camilla's arms. She hadn't ridden in weeks. Or trained for that matter. Camilla had been making more of an effort to spend time with Selena, which meant many trips to town, trying different clothes, having tea, and of course the odd political duties of a princess. Whenever they weren't together, Selena found herself lacking the will or strength to train. It was a nice change of pace, but one that left Selena yearning. She squinted against the harsh sunlight. Only now that they flew through the clear Hoshidan skies had Selena realised, with disturbing apathy, she had grown accustomed to Nohr’s darker skies, feeling more comfortable under the persistent cloud cover. As though she had never left her dark future. Beholding the Hoshidan sun was not unlike the first time she came to the past and beheld a sky vast and blue, free from the oppressive ash and smoke of Grima.

She shook herself out of her memories, refocusing on the land. It had taken weeks to get to Hoshido. The shift from Nohr's battered, scarred lands to Hoshido’s bountiful fields was a shock to say the least as washes of faded lavender and brown gave way to blindingly vibrant green. It was once said that Garon had waged war out of necessity for resources. Were Selena not privy to the darker details of Garon’s campaign, she’d almost believe it.

It occurred to her she hadn't actually left the walls of Windmire since that day. The day the Hoshidans invaded. How disgustingly poetic that it would be the Hoshidans again that would pull her out. The wind buffered her as Camilla swooped the wyvern over the Nohrian procession, prompting a few cheers and whistles from the soldiers below. Selena squinted down, pinpointing the tuft of gold hair that was Odin. He waved up at her from his steed astride King Leo and Niles. She waved back, chest aching. She had hoped to ride with him. Though they had made up, there was more to be said. She had to work more to smooth things over. But Camilla had all bet begged Selena to ride with her, and so she now sat flying high in the sky. 

"It'll be lovely to see new sights, won't it Selena?" Camilla called from behind her. 

"It'll be a nice change of pace." Selena smiled in spite of the mounting anxiety. "I can't wait to check out some of the shops and try Hoshidan fashion."

"And we'll get to see Corrin too! It's been so long, I hope she's well." Camilla squeezed her arms around Selena's midriff. And like that the good mood was gone. The last time Selena spoke to Corrin wasn’t exactly what she would call pleasant. Those infuriatingly perceptive red eyes still bore their way into her mind’s eye.  

Up ahead the towering city of Suzanoh rose above them, crimson banners billowing in the wind. Built into the side of the mountain, the gleaming city shone like a divine temple, a beacon of Hoshido’s splendour. According to Odin, legends said the Dawn Dragon came to rest on the mountain top and passed away. The site became the birthplace for the city. An amusing parallel to Castle Krakenburg nestled snug in a deep valley. There was a call from below. A procession waited for them at the beginning of a path winding up the mountain; Hoshidans garbed in flowing robes.

"Shall we scare them?" Camilla whispered into Selena's ear, her grin heard clearly in her voice.

"I don't think that would be good for diploma-" The wind tore away Selena's voice as the wyvern banked, swooping over the Hoshidans, eliciting confused and concerned murmurs pierced by a cheer. Selena looked down to see a head of white hair jumping and waving. Corrin.

A few more sickening turns and dips and Camilla finally landed alongside the Nohrians, their horses scattering to avoid the wyvern. 

"Please try not to cause too much of a disturbance." Leo said with a grin suggesting he was forcing back laughter. 

"It was just a show for our new friends." Camilla disembarked, holding her arms out to Selena. Selena swung her leg over the saddle, taking Camilla's hand to help herself down, doggedly ignoring the swirling in her stomach. The solid land beneath her feet was a welcome change.

The Hoshidan procession approached. Corrin stepped forward, her silver kimono glinting all too brightly in the blazing sunlight. Compared to her, the Norhian procession looked like walking shadows. 

"Welcome to Hoshido, my friends." Corrin bowed, an action repeated by those around her. Selena's gaze flicked through the procession. Even wearing ornate yukatas, the figures of Felicia and Jakob stood out from the Hoshidans. A sadistic grin tugged at Selena’s mouth as the former maid and butler snuck looks at their former employers, averting their eyes just as quickly.

Yes, cower. Squirm for your betrayal!

"Thank you for your hospitality.” Leo bowed in return, his retainers following.

“Oh no, you don’t have to bow to us.” Corrin surged forward, urging Leo up. “We’re just the welcoming procession. Also, your collar’s inside out.”

“Nice try, but my attendants checked for me.” Leo smirked as he stood straight. “It's good to see you, Corrin.”

"It's so good to see you too!" Corrin beamed, clasping her hands together. 

"Oh Corrin, it's been too long." Camilla swooped in and swallowed Corrin in an all encompassing embrace.

“Camilla!” Corrin choked. “I’ve missed you too.”

While Camilla was busy with squeezing the air from Corrin’s lungs, Selena took the opportunity to slip over to Odin. 

“Sorry I took so long. Couldn’t get away.” Selena grumbled.

“Ah don’t worry about it.” Odin chuckled at the display of execution by excessive embracing. His eyes were fixed on Corrin. “Should we tell her?”

Corrin pried herself from Camilla’s constrictive embrace, chatting away without a care in the world. She looked nothing like the soldier who had led the Hoshidan’s to victory. Just a woman eager to reunite with her family. 

“Maybe later. Let them have their moments.” Selena said, wanting to slink away. Sooner or later they would have to talk to Corrin. And Selena was dreading it.

***

   The great wooden doors of Shirasagi castle opened with a thunderous groan, admitting the Nohrians inside. Even inside seemed impossibly bright, sunlight streaming in from high windows, bouncing off white walls polished to perfection. No wonder the castle’s nickname was the Palace of Radiance. The architecture was so alien compared to Nohr. Instead of high vaulted ceilings with wrought iron decals, stained glass and otherwise sharp aesthetics, Shirasagi boasted a more humble yet somehow equally lavish look. The ceilings were lower, though still several meters high, with a greater emphasis on carved wood and intricate art pieces. There was so much to look at as they were led through the foyer into the audience chamber it gave Selena whiplash. The chamber was impressive. Perhaps more so than the one in Nohr if only for the vibrant colour scheme of red and gold against an aquamarine tiled floor. At the centre of the room, kneeling at a table covered in papers was Ryoma, though Selena barely recognised him bereft of his armour, his long hair trailing over a deep crimson kimono, intricate patterns stitched into its sleeves. Flanking him was the Hoshidan advisor, Yukimura, eyes not so subtly fixed on the Norhian’s approach. Ryoma’s ninja retainers were also present, albeit off to the side.

"Ryoma, it’s my absolute pleasure to present the Nohrian Royal Procession!” Corrin bounced, holding her hands aloft in presentation.

A throat clear cut off further conversation. All eyes turned to its source, Yukimura. “Lady Kamui, please observe the proper courtesy of addressing a soon to be king.”

“Kamui?” Leo and Camilla baulked. 

“It’s my birth name.” Corrin laced her fingers together, face turning pink. “I thought it would be fitting to adopt it when I’m here in Hoshido. Though I’m more than happy to go by Corrin as well.” 

“Then you won’t object to me using the name. After all, it’s how I’ve always known you. My little Corrin.” Camilla spoke with an affectionate lilt, but her smile was pinched.

"Of course not!" Corrin beamed.

"In any case," Yukimura cut in. "Please conduct yourself properly in His Majesty’s presence."

“That’s quite alright, Yukimura.” Ryoma lay a commanding hand on Yukimura’s shoulder. “These are honoured guests. And I am not a king yet.” He stood, coming to stand before the Nohrians, his swept hair and flowing robes exuding a regal power his armour had not. "Welcome to Hoshido, my friends. I trust the journey was a safe one?"

Leo stepped forward. "On behalf of Nohr, we thank you for your invitation and hospitality."

“And we thank you for coming. After so many years of war, this means a great deal to me and our people.” Ryoma turned his attention to Camilla. “Ah, Crown Princess Camilla, it is my greatest honour and pride to welcome you to Hoshido.” He bowed.

Camilla straightened up and bowed her head. “I’m flattered, Lord Ryoma. However I’m afraid your greetings are meant for someone else.”

Ryoma looked to Corrin in confusion. “Forgive me, but I do not understand?”

“Yeah, aren’t you the next in line for the throne, Camilla?” Corrin tilted her head.

A small chuckle escaped Camilla. “Yes, well, there have been some changes. I have made the decision to relinquish my title as Queen.”

“What?!” Corrin gasped. “But why? And to who?”

“To me.” Leo stepped forward. “On Camilla’s request, I have ascended the throne in her place.”

“I see.” Ryoma nodded in contemplation, mind wrestling with the sudden change in events. “Well, in any case, I look forward to working with you to restore our land. Come, allow me to show you our home.

***

   “You’re staring again.”

She started as if woken from a deep sleep. Looking to her right, Selena’s eyes met Odin’s own.

“I just spaced out, that’s all,” she hissed, face already flushing at her blunder. Try as she might, she couldn’t help but stare at Corrin like one would stare at a burning building. She was so bright, so eye-catching.  

“Selena, are you sure you’re alright?”

She fixed him with a sombre glare. “I’m fine. I’m here for Lady Camilla, not her. I will not hide away because of her.”

Odin shifted on his feet as Leo and Ryoma continued discussing the arrangements. The coronation ceremony itself wasn’t due to take place for another few days, but they had been invited to stay a week in Hoshido for both treaty talks as well as the festivals that would soon dominate the street. As excited as she was for the festival itself, she dreaded the long stay. It was too long. Too many chances of uneasy interactions. 

Selena’s gaze wandered restlessly, seeking a point of interest other than the silver haired princess. The fine gold trimmings along the pillars could not hold her attention, nor the unusual murals that decorated the far walls. Her eyes kept flicking back to Corrin as if being directed by a puppeteer. 

The fourth glance lingered. Her heart thudded as Corrin’s head turned slightly, her crimson eyes locking with Selena’s. The mercenary rubbed her thumb against her finger as she felt the walls close in. Corrin had her transfixed with a deep, intense stare that conveyed so much. Familiarity, gratitude, regret and longing. Selena began to feel claustrophobic, the rectangular detailing on the windows feeling like prison bars, forced to whither beneath Corrin’s knowing gaze. She wanted to scream.

“This architecture is really similar to Chon’sin, isn’t it?”

Selena looked back at Odin, grateful for the distraction. He was peering up at the upper levels of the castle, enamoured with its designs. She followed his gaze, actually taking note of the framework, palette and the fine details of the golden dragons that snaked around the edges of the room. She even noticed the effigy of the Dawn Dragon on the roof, mirroring that of the Dusk Dragon seen in Castle Krakenburg’s throne room. Selena nearly laughed at the notion of the two, formerly opposing nations, having such a detail.

“Yeah, it kinda does,” She playfully winked at him, “I wonder if they have similar hot springs too.”

Odin quietly laughed. 

Hushed voices and shuffling filled the air as the discussions came to an end. With the preparations over, the Nohrians were each escorted to a room setup for them to stay in. Corrin personally led her siblings to a wing cleared for them. Two sizable bedrooms were prepared for them, one for Leo and one for Camilla, opposite each other. It was closer to a living area than a bedroom, with a small cooking space for tea and cushions dotted around for relaxation. Thick futons dominated the space with lavish quilts. Selena couldn’t help but grin at the thought of the rest of the Nohrian procession either having to set up camp or find accommodation in the city. 

“Well, this is rather charming.” Camilla’s smile wavered with uncertainty.

“I know it looks strange compared to the beds in Nohr.” Corrin clasped her hands. “But trust me, they’re actually really comfortable.”

Selena recalled the first time she’d slept on a futon during her travels. Her reaction was much like Camilla’s until she lay in one. On that, she and Corrin agreed.

“Now, dinner will be in a few hours, which should give you enough time to get settled.” Corrin clapped her hands. 

“And us enough time to talk and catch up.” Camilla said hopefully. 

“I have to help with some of the preparations, but I can stay and talk for a bit, yes.” Corrin nodded enthusiastically.

Selena pressed her lips into a line, busying herself with unpacking. At least Camilla would keep Corrin distracted from her for now.

***

   Camilla was uncomfortable. 

Dinner had come both too soon and not soon enough. She was hungry certainly, but she hadn't had enough time to settle and adjust. And though she wouldn't admit it aloud, she was resentful of having a shared meal with the Hoshidans. She'd spoken with Corrin for what felt like minutes before having to change to a specially prepared kimono. A lovely garment to look at for sure, the deep plum and lavender designs were quite stunning, but the thin, delicate fabric made her Nohrian clothes feel like wyvern leather by comparison. The feeling of light vulnerability was offset by the belt that bit into her stomach, making every breath a hitched effort. The garment clung to her in a way it didn't for the others. It made Camilla feel larger than she already was. Save for Ryoma, she was the tallest there.

Then there was the kneeling. Why they knelt for dinner she knew not. The cushions were supportive enough though that was of little consolation when she was losing feeling in her legs. The food itself wasn't too bad she had to admit, but the meat was lean and heavily spiced. The Hoshidans were kind enough to provide alternative utensils to eat, she shuddered at the idea of wrangling the chopsticks. Even then, there was an order and process to everything that bordered on the pathological. She was no stranger to etiquette and decorum, but even as a Nohrian Royal she could still eat a hearty meal without fear of ripping her clothes or upsetting some ridiculous rule. It was all quite overkill, removing any enjoyment of the meal in favour of performative etiquette. It wasn't a meal, it was a ritual. She felt scrutinised for every little movement. Was this perhaps the Hoshidans way of embarrassing them? 

Ryoma knelt at the head of the table, haloed by a fire behind him. One one side of him sat Leo, then Corrin, then Camilla herself. The Hoshidan family sat opposite. She noted their looks. The youngest one, Sakura, picked at her food with quick, sporadic movements, like a mouse darting for crumbs before a predator spotted it. The Prince, Takumi, had a sour expression that he didn't have the decency of hiding. And Hinoka, the red haired princess, couldn't keep her eyes to herself, constantly moving to Corrin, casting the odd glance at Camilla, then darting away when caught. 

“The hunts are going well.” Leo spoke to Ryoma, sitting rigid and attentive. “When I left Nohr, I had received no less than ten reports, all successful with at least five to ten confirmed exterminations each.”

“That's… a lot of faceless.” Takumi said with a grimace that belied his disgust.

“Iago was busy. Once my father realised how efficient the Faceless were as soldiers, he ordered a mass conception. They took little resources to make and even less resources to maintain. It wasn’t an ethical idea, but It allowed us to bring many of our soldiers home.” Leo said, challenging the prince's accusation.

“And kill many of ours.” Takumi said under his breath. 

“I am pleased progress is going so well.” Ryoma said with a noticeable hand tap towards Takumi. “But tell me how Nohr itself is doing. Have our convoys been of use?”

Camilla prodded a vibrant green bean while Leo praised the Hoshidan’s aid effort. The political small talk was akin to shoving a dagger in her ear. Acute and piercing. The performative frivolity of it all was maddening. Why any of them needed to be present for this, she did not know. She longed for Selena’s brazen vocabulary, her dry wit and direct mannerisms. 

“It sounds wonderful.” Corrin listened with bright eyes, snapping Camilla back into the conversation. Leo was in the midst of talking about the thriving marketplaces. “I never got to see much, but the markets I remember were much more sparse. I'd love to explore a thriving Nohrian Market someday.”

“We’ll have to show you when you come home.” Camilla smiled, recalling her trips with Selena and Beruka.

“She is home.” The red haired princess, Hinoka, cut in.

Camilla’s smile fell like dust from a book. “Hoshido is a lovely place, don’t misunderstand me.” Camilla said through her teeth. “But Nohr is where Corrin was raised, it will always be her home.”

“ Kamui was born here. This is as much her home as Nohr.” Hinoka clarified. 

Camilla ran a finger over a nearby knife. She fixed her gaze on Hinoka, her red hair blazing, making the room fall away to shadow. Kamui. What a cold, harsh name. As if Hinoka had a greater claim than her. Who had raised and protected Corrin. "She is and will forever be my little Corrin."

Hinoka's face began to blush, nearly matching her hair. There was a fury in her eyes. 

Come on then, little rider. You'll soon realise you are second to me in every way.

“Hey Camilla, you've got to try this.”

Camilla snapped her attention away. Corrin was holding up a dumpling with chopsticks, hand held under to catch any sauce. Camilla ate right out of her hand. The soft, sticky outside was bland, but when she chewed it burst into an explosion of flavour from the savory filling.

“Oh my. This is wonderful.” Camilla caught a bit of sauce dribbling down her chin with a finger.

“Would anyone care for more tea?” Corrin asked, snatching up the pot. Hinoka all but leapt to her feet, backing away from the table as though it were a snarling beast. 

“Hinoka?” Ryoma looked up quizzically. All eyes turned to Hinoka, especially Camilla’s.

“I’m sorry.” Hinoka’s bow was more like a twitch. “I just realised I forgot there's something I need to attend to.” She was so red she was practically steaming. The little twitches of her body beneath her kimono did not go unnoticed to Camilla.

“Can’t it wait? You haven’t finished your meal.”

“I won’t be long, I promise. Excuse me.” Hinoka rushed from the room. Camilla forced down a growing smile, impaling a piece of fish on her fork and eating it. It was no steak, but it was delicious all the same.

***

   “That Hinoka is too smart for her own good. Insinuating she's closer than me, how dare she.” Camilla seethed. 

“Oh definitely, and at dinner too, so rude!” Selena focused on brushing Camilla's hair, sliding her fingers through the thick lavender locks. Though the retainers had a separate hall to eat in, Selena had heard plenty about the talk between princesses. From both Camilla and Hinoka’s rather prideful retainer, Subaki. The altercation clearly wasn’t serious if they were back and relaxing in their room again, but it had left Camilla restless and irritable. Neither Corrin or Leo had come to check on her, likely assuaging Ryoma, so it fell on Selena’s shoulders to keep Camilla calm and still. Which suited her fine. The rhythmic motions of the hair brush and admittedly petty gossiping kept Selena’s mind off of Corrin and the ever looming confrontation with her. 

“She needs to be taught a lesson. Perhaps we should have a chat over tea.” 

Selena caught the brief flicker of sinister glee on Camilla's face in the mirror. And by mere coincidence, Camilla was thumbing a pair of manicuring scissors. 

“Ahahah, or maybe we should do nothing.” Selena busied herself with braiding Camilla's hair, casting a pleading look at Beruka who sat watching by the window. It was like dealing with a child, having to constantly distract and manoeuvre them to prevent an incident.

“After what she said?”

“Hinoka’s a spiteful little brat. She's obviously jealous of you because you got to raise Corrin and not her.” Selena playfully spat, ignoring the irony of a red haired Pegasus rider having jealousy issues. Didn't remind her of anyone at all.

Camilla craned her head around to look Selena in the eye, pulling her half finished braid with her. “You think she's jealous?”

Truthfully no, Selena knew it to be more complicated than that. Losing a loved one at a young age was a unique pain. You spend so long thinking of what could have been and what you could have done to save them. When you reunite with them, you cling so as to never lose them again. It wasn’t done out of a selfish need to control, but a need for stability and a fear of feeling that loss again. Selena remembered the feeling well. Still, whatever pleased the lady. “How can she not? You're a Nohrian Goddess riding on a flipping wyvern, she's a little guttersnipe on a flying horse. Ooooh. She has nothing on you, and she knows it. Just think, if you don't react, she'll look like a rude bitch, and you’ll be the bigger person.”

“True.” Camilla gave a rueful smile. “You are quite a vindictive little thing, aren't you?”

“I know a thing or two about taking people down a peg.” Selena allowed herself a preen of satisfaction. “Plus, you're from Nohr, people will be looking for reasons to smear you.”

“I don't particularly care what they think of me.”

“Okay, but Corrin is also from Nohr. It’ll look bad for her.” 

Camilla sat in quiet contemplation, eye downturned. “Alright, for her.”

Selena let out a small sigh and shared a look with Beruka. Her eyes had narrowed ever so slightly, unnoticeable to most, but Selena had had a lot of practice deciphering her. In her eyes, Selena saw the message. 

This was going to be a stressful excursion. 

***

   Camilla heard the shuffling long before the shadow appeared by the door. It was hesitant, but not sneaking. Whoever it was, they weren’t trying to sneak in, nor were they trying to slip by unnoticed. She pulled herself up, her joints clicking from lying on the futons. Selena slept soundly beside her. Beruka lay, though the lack of audible breaths implied she was likely awake and listening. Wrapping a robe around herself, Camilla padded over to the door, too impatient for the shadow to announce itself. She slid the door open in a soft but swift motion, causing Hinoka to jump on the other side.

“Oh, Lady Camilla, I didn’t mean to startle you.” She wheezed, having barely repressed a squeak of fear. 

“Hello Hinoka. To what do I owe the honour of having you visit me?” Camilla leant against the door frame, staring down on Hinoka in self indulgent satisfaction as the princess shuffled beneath her gaze.

“Please, Princess Camilla, you don't have to worry about pleasantries with me.” Hinoka’s eyes darted in every direction but Camilla’s. She could feel the strain as Hinoka forced herself to continue. “I actually came to apologise.”

“But what for, my lady?” Camilla feigned a tone of ignorance, if only to make her squirm further.

“For dinner, I didn't mean to make insinuations.”

“Insinuations?”

“I was insensitive. Nohr is Kamui’s home as well, I should not have said what I did.” Hinoka bowed her head in that stiff way all Hoshidans did. Perhaps it was her personal grievances with Hinoka, but Camilla found it irritating and performative. 

Camilla smiled, grateful to the dark of the night for obscuring the glee in her lips. “Well I appreciate the acknowledgement. But let's make one thing clear: you may be her birth family, but we raised her. You have no more right to her than we do.”

Hinoka raised her head to look Camilla in the eye, her eyes alight with renewed fury. “Because your father took her.”

Camilla drew herself up, blotting out the moonlight streaming through the windows. “Yes. Because my father took her. And because my father took her, I did everything I could to make her happy. So she could have a loving home. I took care of her. And I will do everything in my power to care for her. Don't presume to replace me, Hinoka. Goodnight.” She slid the door shut before the princess could even open her mouth. Hinoka’s shadow lingered briefly, wavering as if deliberating whether to storm after her or not before slinking away. Camilla returned to her bed with a content smile on her face.

Chapter Text

   Camilla shifted from foot to foot, squinting against the bright Hoshidan sun. She had heard tales of its brilliance and had once yearned for its warm rays. Now she withered beneath its glare, burning like meat on a fire. No wonder everyone wore such loose, thin clothing. Suddenly the cold darkness of Nohr felt inviting. It encouraged closeness, burrowing deep beneath thick covers and warm food. She glanced around the courtyard, at Leo, Corrin and the many workers running around and wondered if they felt the same.

“So you two will stand here.” Corrin gestured to an unassuming tile on the courtyard floor, gleaming white in the afternoon sunlight. They'd had a few days to settle in and we're now preparing for the coronation festival. Fortunately there were no special duties expected of them other than attendance for appearance sake. Still, it ate into the time they could've spent together. And though she had managed to dissuade Hinoka, Corrin was constantly in and out with duties and preparations, it was like snatching wind trying to spend time with her.

“Are you sure it’s alright to stand here?” Leo raised an eyebrow at Corrin. “Won’t the people frown on us being so close to your new King?”

“The idea is to show how close Nohr and Hoshido have become.” Corrin clasped her hands. “Your presence here shows how much Nohr has changed that you’re willing to be here, and your position shows that Ryoma has welcomed you as a trusted ally.”

“You don’t think it’s a little… open, dear?” Camilla said, eyes drifting to the roofs above. So high, so clear.

“We will have triple the guards on the night. This’ll be the safest place in the entire kingdom.”

“I’ve personally seen to the arrangements myself.” a deep voice behind them made the hairs on Camilla's neck stand up. She turned to see Ryoma, his wild hair pulled back into a barely contained ponytail. “It was my decision to have you up here with me, I’ve ensured every precaution is being taken. Besides, if anyone were to try an assassination, it would be against me.”

“Well I feel safer already.” Camilla mumbled, still eyeing off the rooftops.

“Crown Prince Leo, I was wondering if you might like to accompany me on a walk through the gardens?” Ryoma turned his gaze to Leo, his expression belying no tension or trepidation. What did he want to talk about?

“Of course, Your Grace. I would be honoured.” He waved off Camilla and Corrin and followed Ryoma towards the palace.

Camilla swelled with relief and anticipation. “Well then, Corrin, why don’t we take a break from all this ceremony and go do something together, just the two of us? I’ve been dying to try out the hot springs I’ve heard so much about.”

“I would love to, Camilla, but there’s still so much I have to do.” Corrin said with an apologetic bow. Camilla didn't remember her bowing so much. “But maybe we can do something later? Actually that would work out, the hot springs are especially lovely when the moon’s up.”

Camilla tried and failed to keep her face from falling. “Oh. Well, I suppose you need to do what you need to do. But I’ll hold you to that hotspring.”

“I promise we will. Unless you'd like to accompany me while I attend to my duties.”

A hot wave rippled up Camilla's back. “That's alright dear, I don't want to be in the way of things. We'll have time later.”

Her shoulders sagged as Corrin left. If it wasn't the Hoshidan siblings, it was the people. Always someone getting in the way. Always someone taking Corrin.

“It’s okay, Lady Camilla, we can go into town in the meantime.”

Camilla started as Selena grabbed her hands. She’d nearly forgotten her retainers hovering nearby. Selena pulled at her with the eagerness of a puppy, while Beruka followed the shadows in a bid to avoid the sun. Perhaps it would be best to get out, get away from the royalties.

***

   Ryoma led Leo through the rich wooden hallways, past paintings of styles he had never seen, sculptures hewn from materials he had never known. Every surface, every curve of the palace was an art piece in and of itself, meticulously shaped by skilled, patient hands. By comparison, Castle Krakenberg looked like it had been hacked out of stone by a chipped chisel. The cloud of inadequacy only darkened as Leo stepped into the gardens.

Nohr’s gardens were hardly something to scoff at. Filled with vibrant flowers and mighty oaks, they were robust and resilient, surviving against all the conditions of Nohr. They were strong, and hard. Unlike Hoshido’s gardens, with its delicate trees twisting and reaching like dancers, showering the area with pink petals that seemed to kiss the sunlight. The plants were beautiful, not because of vibrant colours or thick trunks defying the odds, but because they simply could be. For a single sickening moment, Leo could understand why his father had coveted this land. He himself yearned for its simplistic beauty.

“So what is it you would like to talk about?” Leo asked, burying his treacherous thoughts beneath a smile of placidity.

“You, actually. How are you finding your stay in Hoshido?” Ryoma said with a warm look.

The sun brightened as a cloud moved away, its heat boring down on Leo like a wyvern's breath. “It’s a lovely Kingdom. You’ve done a marvellous job in rebuilding it.”

Ryoma allowed a knowing chuckle. “I thank you for the compliment, but I wasn’t looking for platitudes. I want to know how you are finding it. Please, we are both of the same station, be as honest as you wish.”

Leo risked a glance at Ryoma. His gaze was fixed expectantly on Leo, yet his eyes were soft and welcoming. Leo had half expected a mental chess match between the would be Kings, not a casual conversation. It both put him at ease as well and agitated him. Still, Leo found his inner defences slip ever so slightly, like the hem of a tunic. Though he had not told Camilla, he had felt a strange prickling sensation ever since he arrived here. Like a collar too tight around the neck.

“I admit I’m finding the whole thing rather sobering. I’ve never truly seen Hoshido with my own eyes before. To think we were once at war, that my father tried to claim it. I never imagined I would be standing here, much less as a welcomed guest.”

“Yes, there was a time I too thought the same. That only over the bodies of fallen Hoshidans would Nohr set foot here. I’m glad we could be here to witness such a momentous milestone.”

“Yes.” Leo discreetly itched his palm with his finger. What was the point of this conversation?

“How are you adjusting to being the Crown Prince? I’d imagine having such a position thrust on you must have been quite an upheaval.”

Ah, this was a test of Leo's competency as King. “In a sense. But I had long since helped Camilla, so it was merely a matter of transferring power.”

“Be that as it may, if I recall, it was your brother, Xander, who was next in line for the throne. I’d imagine your educations were quite different.”

Leo rubbed his thumb along the spine of Brynhildr tucked in the folds of his cloak. Yes. His education as a child of a concubine was vastly different to Xander, the true Crown Prince of Nohr. Why would such a wretch need to know how to lead armies and inspire people? Why would he need to know how to manage resources to ensure all ate? It was by his own determination and desire to succeed that he studied magic, spending sleepless nights pouring over tomes upon tomes. It was only once he held Brynhildr that he felt like a true prince of Nohr. But even then, he was not the true Crown Prince. He stood here, supposedly equal with Ryoma, his brother’s Hoshidan counterpart, only by happenstance. Only because Xander died.

Ryoma gave a conspicuous cough. “Forgive me if I am overstepping myself, it’s just that I know your brother was raised to be the next King of Nohr. You are an intelligent person, Leo, but I’d imagine having to take on a mantle of responsibility so suddenly must be overwhelming.”

“I thank you for your concern, but I am adapting quite well.” Leo straightened his back. The time for weakness was over.

“I am more than happy to discuss things with you. We may not get as many chances in the future.”

“Again, I thank you for your concern, but I have everything well under control.”

“Very well. I suppose I need not question your mettle when you’ve reformed so much of Nohr now. Still, I reach out to you, not as a soon to be King, but a friend. If you need anything, whether it be advice, assistance or just someone to talk to, do not hesitate.” Ryoma paused to look at a cherry blossom, his breath held in the tell tail sign of someone wanting to say more. “How about Lady Camilla? I confess a small part of me is glad she decided to abdicate. She seemed reluctant to take the throne.” He cupped his hand to catch an errant blossom drifting in the air.

“She's doing better lately. Her retainers have done a fine job helping her. It's been good for her, the stress of the Kingdom wasn't helping. Though I believe given time and support she would have made for a fine Queen.”

“I have no doubt. She has a nurturing quality befitting a benevolent ruler.” Ryoma let the blossom drop and turned to Leo. “Though I do worry how she's coping, she doesn't seem comfortable here. I know Hinoka has felt a certain anxiety from her.”

Leo broke into a cold sweat despite the warm sunlight. He had heard about their little dispute. Though he doubted it would cause an incident, he needed the bonds between kingdoms to be as strong as possible. “Camilla's always had a dry wit to her. I think she sometimes forgets she's taller than most people and her words come out more threatening than they're meant.”

Ryoma hummed, his true thoughts buried to Leo. “Perhaps. Still, I wonder if she's coping as well as we'd like.”

“She's fine, Lord Ryoma.” Leo swallowed the venom rising in his throat. “Its been a long trip, and it's just taking a bit to adjust to such a new environment.”

Ryoma bowed his head and took a ceremonial step back. “Very well, you know your sister better than I. I just want you both to be happy and comfortable.”

Leo forced a placid smile, his neck growing hot under his collar. “Your hospitality has been nothing short of divine.”

***

   For safety reasons, the Nohrian royals were granted specific zones to walk around in, mainly the castle, its surrounding gardens and, when accompanied by a Nohrian security detail, what was referred to as the Sky district, a small enclosed district reserved for the highest of society beneath the palace itself. Corrin had explained the full name was some complex Hoshidan word that translated to Divine skies beneath heaven, but was shortened for convenience. As a break from the palace, Selena had brought them to this district. The dark armour of the Norhian guards cut through the pastel colours of the Hoshidan bystanders, like debris in a river. It was both comforting and unnerving. Their visibility meant no one would dare approach, yet it meant everyone in the district knew where they were. 

Selena bounced ahead, darting between stores and craning her head like an excited child, as if she had mere moments to see everything. Beruka by comparison practically clung to Camilla, ever on the lookout for danger. Even here the streets were bustling with people in flowing robes of brilliant colours, many carrying some sort of thin umbrella to keep the sun off. If it was this busy here, Camilla could only shudder at how many people must be in the lower districts. The hairs on Camilla's neck stood on end. She instinctively curled her fingers behind her back where her axe normally rested. They were watching. Though they busied themselves with preparation for the festival, carrying food, wood and boxes of an unknown powder, they could not hide their stares. Not from her. Years of hunting and being hunted as a child had honed her perception sharper than any blade.

How could they not stare? Camilla towered over many of them, her bright lavender hair was stark against their deeper, darker shades. She was everything they saw in a nohrian, powerful, proud and dangerous. Their hatred was evident in their eyes. She was not welcome. She was not wanted. She was their enemy

“Lady Camilla, have a look at these.”

Camilla's skin tingled as Selena's voice brought her back to reality. She was standing over a display cabinet at the front of a storefront. Resting on red velvet displays were numerous talismans and pendants alongside what looked like cloth pouches of unknown contents. Camilla tilted her head to look closer but not enough she couldn't still see those watching them. Even as sullen as she was, Camilla couldn't help but admire the fabrics, the smooth craftsmanship and intricate patterns. There was an elegant, free flowing beauty to the trinkets.

“Aren't these just the cutest? And these!” Selena took a display umbrella off the rack and popped it open, posing proudly with it. Behind the counter, the shop keeper nodded enthusiastically, feeding Selena's excitement in the hopes of a purchase.

“They're quite lovely, yes.” Camilla said. It wasn't that she thought they weren't, but with her attention torn between her retainers and the people watching her, it was all she could manage. Metallic trinkets rattled overhead as Camilla brushed past, the architecture not quite designed for Nohrians.

“I can't wait to show everyone back home this.” Selena folded the umbrella, fawning over its colours.

Camilla's breath left her. “Home?”

Selena froze like prey listening for a predator. “I– uh…”

“Selena.” Camilla's tone turned stony. “What home?”

“You know, my home, out in the countryside.”

Camilla turned to Selena, eye trained on her as if looking away would cause her to disappear. “You always told me you didn't have a home. You were a wanderer, when did this happen all of a sudden?”

“It mustn't have come up in conversation.”

Camilla narrowed her eyes. Selena's fidgeting grew worse. She was lying. Her Selena was lying. “You know I don't like you lying to me, Selena. Where are you from?”

“I…” Selena looked up at her only to avert her gaze. “Okay, I come from a land across the sea.”

“There's no land I'm aware of.” Camilla's chest grew tighter with each new piece of information. Where was she from? Why would she leave her? Had she not promised to support her?

Selena took a few guilty steps away, fluttering her hand as if to shoot away the question. “Oh it's not that important.”

“Selena.” Camilla seized Selena's arm, pulling her back. “When were you going to tell me? When are you leaving? Why?”

“Not anytime soon.” Selena's words tumbled from her as she tried to wriggle her fingers under Camilla's hand. “Maybe in a few years, several even, hell, maybe I won't leave, maybe my friends can come visit.”

“Is everything alright?” A passing guard came over, a long naginata resting on his shoulder.

“Back off!” Camilla hissed. The guard gripped the Naginata with both hands, prompting the Nohrian guards to hold theirs.

“Lady Camilla, you're hurting me.”

Camilla blinked. Her hand was clutching Selena's arm, digging into her skin. She pulled her hand back as if she'd been burned, gently smoothing out the folds and creases in Selena's robe.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to.” Camilla rubbed Selena's arm, mortified.

“It's okay, I shouldn't have surprised you like that.”

She finished smoothing and cupped Selena's cheek. Suddenly she was less familiar than Camilla remembered. Less tangible. She stared into Selena's eyes, a deep brown glowing almost red in the sunlight. So many secrets lay in those eyes. Who was she? Where was she from? Why would she leave her?

“Lady Camilla.” Beruka stepped forward, gesturing towards the shop keeper. They clasped her hands together so tight their knuckles went white. Pedestrians watched as they passed by. The very walls seemed to watch her. More guards watched in prepared silence, waiting to see how things played out. Or were they watching Selena? She had to get out, they were too deep, too isolated.

“We’re leaving.” She clasped Selen’s wrist, pulling her from the shop. Camilla’s breaths were short and sharp, her blood roaring in her ears. The people were moving too slowly, too awestruck to react, smothering them in a sea of fabric and limbs. She shouldered past three bystanders, each graze setting her nerves alight. How hard was it to just move?

“What are you all staring at?” She spat, pulling Selena close. “Out of my way!” She swung an arm, the sudden motion spooking the citizens away and making the Hoshidan guards grip their weapons tighter. Camilla paid them no mind. They wouldn’t attack a royal, not if they wanted to keep their heads. Somewhere on the fringes of her senses, she heard Selena and Beruka calling out. Likely to keep the crowds back. She barely registered the voices, all she could hear was the blood in her ears and her heavy breaths. She had to get away. She had to get out.

***

   Rain cloud covered the moon, blanketing the palace in soft, hazy shadows. Selena and Beruka sat in the outer courtyard connecting Camilla and Leo's rooms, a large square space containing a well manicured rock garden, surrounded on all four sides by undercover walkways of polished wooden floorboards. A soft drizzle of rain had settled in, running off the slanted tiled awnings of the courtyard in thin streams into drainage ditches leading to who knows where. So much for a clear moonlit night. The pair came to rest against the support pillars just before the steps into the garden. Though well and truly covered, if Selena reached her arm out she could catch a few drops of rain.

Camilla was flying in this rain, for some reason. Though Selena didn't think too hard on it, grateful for the moments peace. She fiddled with the sash of her yukata, brows furrowed, the events of the day weighing on her. She was sure she had told Camilla before she was not from Nohr, and yet Camilla had flipped out like she'd lied to her. Selena's arm still ached from when her liege had grabbed her. She pulled her legs up and rested her chin on her knees. Not since Laslow passed had she wanted to go home so badly. To be with friends and family she knew so well, who she could be open and honest with without fear of a freakout. She prayed Camilla would settle down once they got away from Hoshido and back to a semblance of normalcy.

“Selena, is it true your home is far from here?” Beruka’s quiet voice shook the silence like an explosion.

Selena tensed up. “That depends. Are you gonna manhandle me if I say yes?”

Beruka simply looked at her. Not in fear or surprise or anger. She just stared at her like a child, eyes brimming with curiosity. “I swear I will not lay hands on you.”

It was only her normal intonation, but the gravity it leant to the words made Selena chuckle. It was like Beruka was swearing a solemn oath. But she knew her better than that. Beruka simply said it as it was. It made talking to her easier. “Heh. Yes, yes it is.”

Beruka contemplated the rain falling in the courtyard. “If you are not from here, then neither are Laslow and Odin, correct?”

Selena didn’t wince at Laslow’s name. She had grown familiar with the chest constructing feeling whenever his name was mentioned. Gods, it felt like lifetimes ago since the three of them had first stepped foot in Nohr, with purpose in their step and spirits eager for adventure. A new land, entirely separate from the dark future they had come from. 

“Yep. We all travelled here together years ago.”

“I see. So why have you never mentioned it?”

“Home is… a difficult subject.” Selena drew herself in further. The original reason for the secret was so none of Anankos’ spies could identify them. But over time it became harder to bring up. She was practically a different person during those dark days of fighting the fell dragon. And who would even understand? A destroyed future? Time travel? Existing in a world so like your own but not, so you jump at the chance to go somewhere new and different, where you have no expectations of you? Talking about it just made Selena homesick. “Sometimes it's easier to cope by pretending it's not there.”

“And yet you want to return?” It wasn't accusatory, Beruka was wrestling with a mental puzzle she did not have all the pieces to.

“Yeah. Home is home, I have a family and friends, people I want to see again.”

“Then why come here?”

Selena bit her lip. After everything they'd been through, surely she could trust Beruka. At this point it would be rude not to confide in her. “Keep a secret?”

“Only if it doesn't endanger Lady Camilla.”

Selena could've sworn there was a humourous edge to Beruka’s words, so she rolled with it. “We were hired as mercenaries to take out someone. Someone hidden who threatened the land.”

“Someone in Nohr?”

“We couldn't be sure. Our client was killed before we got all the details. So we started here.”

Beruka’s face twitched, uncomfortable at the prospect of a hidden threat she was unaware of. “So why not tell Camilla?”

“Things were tense when we first started. We needed to be as trustworthy as we could. People might have thought we were spies.”

“That's fair. I would've killed you if I knew.”

Selena balked at the sheer audacity of her statement. “Beruka!”

“I'm simply stating the truth.” Beruka said with a small smile. The little beast really had developed a sense of humour. “But I trust you now, so I won't.

“Gee thanks.” Selena poked her tongue out.

The rain filled the silence again. Beruka's voice was nearly imperceptible against it. “Did you succeed?”

Selena averted her eyes, not that Beruka was watching her. Given everything that had happened, and the lack of any signs to indicate Anankos was still active, Selena could only presume he was in fact dead. “I think so, yeah.”

“So now your task is complete, you're going to leave?”

Selena shrugged, watching the water flow over the rocks and down the drains. “Yeah. Well, maybe. One day, some day. I don't know, I haven't thought too much about it.”

Beruka closed her eyes, humming in contemplation. When she opened them they were as clear as they'd ever been. “I see. Then I will enjoy our time together, however long that may be.”

Selena's heart skipped a beat. Getting genuine emotion from Beruka was rarer than a shooting star on a blood moon. But it was unmistakable. “Beruka….”

***

   The wind whipped at Camilla, enveloping her in a cold, buffering embrace as soft drops of rain kissed her skin like little sprites. The deep beats of her wyvern’s wings slapped away any sound that could disturb her reverie as she circled the night skies of Hoshido. She closed her eyes, titled her head back and let the wind carry her breath away, and the stress of the day with it. It was a pleasant change from the hot, claustrophobic interiors of the palace. And no one could disturb her here. No one could watch her, not under the cover of the clouds.

The memories of earlier in the day kept playing over in her mind, sending shivers through her worse than anything the rain could do. Even in her room she didn’t feel at ease. There were too many hidden places in the palace and the walls too thin. So she decided her wyvern needed some exercise. The tingling of the rain became a burrowing itch as thoughts wandered to Selena. She had barely said a word to Camilla for the rest of the day, only exacerbating the knot growing in her stomach. Where was this home she spoke of? Why keep it a secret? How many more secrets were there? Did Odin know anything? He had arrived in much the same way she had. Was Leo also being deceived?

Camilla shook her head, scattering icy drops of rain into the air. No, no, there was an explanation for this. Selena wouldn’t deceive her. Not her Selena. It must’ve just been poor wording. She wouldn’t leave Camilla, not after how close they’d grown. She wouldn’t…

The wyvern shuddered as a clap of thunder rolled overhead. Perhaps it was a good time to return. She flicked the reins and they descended, droplets stinging her face as they sped faster and faster towards the stables. She half expected shouts of alarm at her descent, but was unhindered from her return to the stables, aside from the irritated snorting of the pegasi. She slid from the saddle and led the wyvern in by the reins. The pegasi chittered nervously as the great scaled beast hobbled to its roosting spot, a massive space made from four dismantled stalls. She almost envied it. A decent sized space tucked away from everything, no one allowed near but the people it trusts. So simple. So blissful. She began working on the wyvern’s saddle, chilled hands trembling over the straps. Already she dreaded having to go back. Maybe she might stay the night here, curled up with her wyvern.

“Camilla?”

Camilla jerked at the voice, whirling on the intruder. She calmed down once she realised it was Corrin, patting the agitated wyvern on the snout. “Oh, Corrin, don’t sneak up on me like that.” Camilla cleared her throat. “Just a moment, dear. I’m just putting my wyvern to bed.”

She hefted the saddle off and placed it on the wooden holding cylinder nearby, Straw crunched underfoot as Corrin came closer. “I heard about today, is everything alright?”

Camilla stopped fiddling with the straps, taking a deep breath. Of course Corrin knew, and likely the rest of the royal family by now. “Yes dear, just some people who don't know when to mind their own business.” She resumed fastening the wyvern.

“Your retainers said you ran from the crowd. And you’ve just been flying in the rain. What’s wrong?”

“I just don’t do well in crowds, Corrin.” Camilla tossed aside the bridle straps and picked up the wall mounted chain.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

The wyvern purred as Camilla scratched beneath its chin, titled its head so Camilla could reach its metal collar. “Nothing to help with. I just want to spend time with my dear sister, just the two of us. Alone, with no crowds or other family to interrupt us.”

Corrin made a strange sound, a mix between a groan and a cough. “Yeah. Um, Camilla, can we talk?”

Camilla linked the chain to the wyvern’s collar, the lock making a deep, heavy click sound. She turned to Corrin, brushing her sopping hair out of her face. “Alright then, what would you like to talk about?”

Corrin fiddled with the sleeve of her yukata. “It’s about my siblings.”

Camilla drew a long, steady breath to suppress the groan clawing up her throat. Even alone they couldn’t go two minutes without talking about the Hoshidans. To still her shaking fingers, she rung out a cloth from a water bucket and began brushing over the wyvern’s scales. “What of them? Don’t tell me they’re complaining about me?”

Corrin pulled a stool over and sat beside Camilla, picking at her nails and avoiding eye contact. Apprehension stiffened Camilla’s limbs. “Some of the things you’ve said, especially to Hinoka, have been a little confrontational.”

“I’m just reasserting myself, that’s all.” Camilla said flatly. She couldn’t help it if the Hoshidans were sensitive to her presence. She was already giving them too much time with Corrin as it was, she wasn’t going to let them downplay her importance.

“Camilla, you know I will always love you.” Corrin clasped Camilla's hand between hers, the wyvern grumbling when the rubbing stopped. “You don’t need to assert yourself.”

“They seem perfectly willing to.” Camilla bit back.

“And I’ve spoken to them about it as well. I don’t want there to be infighting among us.”

“As long as they realise their place, there won't be.” Camilla went to resume brushing

“This has to stop.”

“Corrin?” Camilla flinched, the outburst like a slap across the face.

“I’ve been counting the days til I could see you and Leo again, I want nothing more than for us all to be a family. But that can’t happen if you’re going to be so confrontational towards them.” Corrin gripped Camilla’s hand, her voice hard as stone and sharp like a blade, despite her glistening eyes and shaking hands.

“I’m confrontational?” Camilla pulled her hand from Corrin's grip. “They’ve done nothing but watch and judge since I came here.”

“No one's judging you, Camilla.” Corrin reached out to touch Camilla's shoulder, but Camilla shot up, a tightness in her chest driving breath from her.

“Everyone is. I feel their eyes on me, watching my every move.”

Corrin stood to match Camilla, barely reaching her shoulder but commanding the space all the same. “Your behaviour hasn't exactly helped. You've been on edge ever since you came here. Don't think I haven't realised you've been fighting over me.”

Camilla flung her arms up. “Is it so wrong to want to spend time with my sister? They've had you every day since the war ended, am I not entitled to a week? I can't even call you by your name without being corrected, or told that this is your home. What right do they have to you?” She spat, her voice growing harder and louder. The wyvern whined and curled into itself.

“They're my family.”

The whirling rage inside was snuffed out like a fire in a snowstorm. Camilla’s shoulders dropped and her heart ached. They were her family. Those words confirmed what Camilla had been too afraid to suspect. “Ah yes. Your family. Of course.”

Corrin looked to say something, then drew in a deep breath and took a step towards her. “Camilla, I’m just saying—”

“You’re right. They're your family. I’m just a person you lived with.” Camilla skirted around her, moving towards the stable doors, gazing lazily out the perch entrance into the dark skies, yearning to be back out in the open air.

“Camilla, I’m sorry. Please, don’t do this. Look, let's go to the hot springs, relax, unwind, and put this behind us, okay?”

Camilla looked over her shoulder at Corrin, her heart slamming against her chest. She couldn’t deny, in the flowing yukata, with her hair done up in a more hoshidan style, with her slender face and sharp eyes, Corrin looked far more at home here than she ever had in Nohr. “No, I’d like to be alone for a while now. Besides, your family is probably wondering where you are.” She turned away, curling against the support pillar. Silence blanketed the stable like thick fog. When Camilla turned back, Corrin was gone, only the brushed straw on the floor indicated she was even there.

Chapter Text

   Finally the coronation was upon them. After several days of preparations and stilted political talks, Selena all but skipped down the hall, ready to explore the festival with Camilla, Beruka and Odin. If the insane preparations were anything to go by, Hoshido did not hold back on celebrations. She was eager to experience it, to be lost in the atmosphere, the food, the music; to forget for one moment about the world at large and have fun for a change. She was also eager to leave in equal measure. To get away from the tensions between the families, and most importantly Corrin, with her unwelcome, knowing stares. She had done well to avoid her so far, she could hold out another day.

She stopped before Camilla’s room and threw the door open, her enthusiasm vanishing like smoke. The room was dark, barely illuminated by the moonlight and a few lamps. Reclining by the window, staring into the night was Camilla, still adorned in her morning robe. “Lady Camilla! Why aren't you dressed yet?! The coronation is about to start.”

The rise and fall of her shoulders was the only indication Camilla had heard her. “I'm not going.”

Selena let out a resolute huff, marching to the display mannequin she had prepared Camilla’s dress on just the night before. “Oh yes you are. The whole point of coming here was to attend the coronation. So come on, get up. I’ll dress you.” Her fingers slipped over the intricate laces holding the back of the dress.

“What’s the point? I'm not the Queen, my presence is of no political value.”

Selena bit back a curse as she wrangled the dress off the mannequin. “Who cares about politics, that’s Leo’s problem. We’re here for the festival. Think of all the food and sights you'll miss.”

“I don't particularly enjoy the food here, and the Hoshidan people don't like me either. The very thought of being in the crowds makes me ill.” The eerie stillness of Camilla coupled with her flat, dispassionate tone, gave her the impression of a corpse talking. This was bad. The last thing Selena needed was Camilla regressing.

“Well we can just stick to the sides, just drink, I don’t know, but it’ll be worth it, trust me.” Drooping the dress over one arm, Selena reached out to grab Camilla’s elbow.

“I’m not going!” Camilla batted Selena's hand away, narrowly missing her head. The motion spun her around to face Selena, the dim lamp light illuminating her crumpled face and shining eyes in orange light and shadows.

Selena stood stunned, heart pounding in her chest. For a single fleeting second, Camilla adopted the hunched pose of a beast ready to strike before the adrenaline faded and she melted back into her position.

“But…” Selena shrunk back, skin still prickling from the near miss. She glanced to Beruka, inspecting her knives in the corner of the room, hoping for some help. All she got was a languid shrug. “You'll have your family. Lord Leo and Corrin. And you'll have us as well.” She added, hopeful the company would draw Camilla out.

Camilla curled into herself. “Corrin probably doesn't want to see me right now.” The growl in her voice disappeared, replaced with neither anger nor sorrow. Only a morose acceptance.

Selena’s hands curled into fists, chest growing tight with fury. Corrin. Of course she was the reason. Camilla had returned in tears after that fight with her, and now she refused to leave. And Corrin probably didn’t even know the damage she had caused. The shock and trepidation was burned away by a building fury within.

“You go, Selena. Enjoy yourself.” Camilla turned back to the window, preventing any further debate.

Selena clenched her jaw and breathed. She really shouldn’t leave Camilla. But she’d have better luck taking down an army solo than convincing her. And it would be better to tell Leo rather than have him send someone. She turned, letting the dress fall from her arm with a heavy flop.

“I'll stay with her. I don't want to leave her alone.” Beruka said from her corner. Selena nodded. At least Camilla would be watched.

***

   Angry as she was, Selena could not deny the sheer radiance of Ryoma, adorned in robes of white and gold, standing atop the steps leading to the palace. Framed by carved statues of bestial guardians, beneath the watchful gaze of the Dawn Dragon, he truly looked like an emissary of the heavens. He stood tall as the ceremonial headpiece was affixed. Not a sound came from the gathered crowd as they awaited in quiet reverence for their King to address them.

The speech was probably nice, full of flowery declarations and promises of peace. At least Selena presumed. Truth be told she wasn't listening. Her eyes bore daggers into Corrin, standing with the rest of the Hoshidan royal family to Ryomas' left, beaming in complete obliviousness to Camilla's plight. But she would know. By the end of the night, Corrin would understand the magnitude of her blunder.

The air exploded with light and colour as fireworks shaped like serpentine dragons bathed Suzanoh in brilliant hues of red, yellow and white, signifying the end of the coronation and the beginning of the festival. The cheers, music and smell of black powder plunged Selena into a mire of sensory bliss, driving all thoughts of Corrin from her mind. Finally they could be done with all the pomp and ceremony and get to the best parts; the food and stalls. Selena practically salivated over the idea.

Odin beamed beside her, immaculately dressed in a sleek tunic of gold and black, complete with metallic accents and a purple sash over his body, befitting of a King's retainer. Selena had pouted when he said he couldn’t wear his yukata due to his position, but she couldn’t deny the style and flair he exuded. Even Niles cleaned up well, Selena had to admit. Amazing what could happen when one was dressed properly.

“Shall we explore the festival? Niles will be taking the first shift to guard Lord Leo.”

Selena cast one last glare at the oblivious Corrin, surrounded by the Hoshidans, rushing to meet Ryoma. Barbed insults readied on her tongue, begging to be unleashed on her, but Selena wasn’t eager to hasten their confrontation. There was a festival to be enjoyed, and she wasn’t about to make Corrin a priority. “Well what are we waiting for?” She winked, already a few steps away.

The central plaza before the palace was unrecognisable. Bright orange lanterns and fireworks lit the night sky, driving the darkness to the very corners of the alleyways. Food stalls and vendors encircled the populace, providing nourishment and entertainment to the festival goers. The pounding of massive Taiko drums shook the ground beneath their feet while the very air itself pulsed with energy as the festival began in earnest.

They flowed down the street like leaves adrift in a stream, allowing the crowd to guide them through the main thoroughfare. From stall to stall they flitted, dodging excited little kids wielding wooden weapons and swaying drunkards, clearly several drinks in before the ceremony had even begun. They sampled strange teas, spiced pieces of meat on skewers, and partook in booth games involving spinning tops, wooden balls on strings and throwing rings. Odin gasped at many displays of Hoshidan magic and weapon demonstrations, while Selena gaped at the robes of fine silks that shone like the surface of a lake; the material likely costing more than her yearly salary. The wonders were ceaseless, the colours so overwhelming it made the surrounding landscape look greyscale. Selena tilted her head and let the smell of smoke, spice and people submerge her, losing herself in the sound and energy of the festival. Though the festival was in honour of Ryoma’s ascension, it also felt like a book end to the war. A true and definitive new beginning to an era of peace.

Cutting a swath through the crowd, a procession made its way down the street. Dozens of performers, flanked by instrumentalists, performed a series of dances, a tribute to their new king. The performance was quite a sight. Each character bore a brightly coloured mask that leapt at the eye, contrasted by a comparatively simple costume. Perhaps most interesting was the dancing itself. It was percussive, with strong poses and disciplined movement; not rigid, but a far cry from the flowing dancing Laslow would practise.

Oh Laslow. If only he could be here to see it. To bask in the glow of the festival and know he had made a difference. Selena tried to keep her smile strong and her eyes dry, but the unfairness of the situation was too much to hold back.

“It's a stunning performance, isn't it?” Odin beamed in the multicoloured lights of the production.

“It is.” Selena swallowed. “Laslow would've loved it.”

“He always dreamed of doing this after the war.” Odin’s voice was nearly drowned out by the crowd. “He and I both.”

“Really?” Selena whirled to face him. “You wanted to dance too?”

“Well, not exactly.” Odin rubbed the back of his neck. She couldn't tell if it was the lights of the festival or if he was actually turning red. “The dream was I'd write the play, and he'd bring it to life with dance. It would have been something, I like to think.”

“Why not start a troupe? Write some plays, get some dancers, if anyone’s gonna be interested in your nerdy stories, it’s thespians.” She winked at him.

His smile turned dour as he relived a scenario never to be. “Half the dream lies in a crypt. I’m not sure if I could continue it without him.”

“Why not? He’d want you to. Sure he won’t physically be there, but at least it’d honour one of his last wishes.” Selena coughed and turned away, cheeks burning. Sentimentality was always a struggle for her. “I mean, it’s not like you’ve got a book full of stories or anything.”

“You know, you may have a point my fiery friend. After all, t’would not do to deprive the world of the Tales of the Azure Nights!” Odin laughed. “Mayhap there’s merit to this idea. You would come watch, right?”

She rolled her eyes in playful exasperation. ”I suppose I can bring myself to check it out.”

The procession came to an explosive stop and an eruption of applause rose from the crowd, Odin and Selena included.

“I better get back to Lord Leo, I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, see you later.” Selena waved Odin off, keeping her half smile up as long as she could see him. Now it was just her. A foreign woman neither Nohrian nor Hoshidan, adrift in a sea of people who would never know. The sudden burst of isolation was enough to make her stomach do a small flip. No matter, she would join Odin again later, but in the meantime she had more pressing matters to attend to.

***

   Odin squinted against the dazzling smoke and colours, the air as thick and sweet as honey. Music and laughter permeated every corner of the city as kids scampered about wearing masks based on the visages of samurai and oni. How he wished Laslow could be here to see this. None of the festivals of their world held a candle to the cacophony of colour of this one. It was almost too much, like drowning in a colourful sea of fire and sound.

He sidestepped a passing food wagon and slid into the side streets, taking a deep breath of less populated air, his endurance fizzling out like the sparkling sticks some festival goers carried. He wasn’t strictly alone; many people wandered the alleyways to catch a break, travel home or share a private moment, but compared to the tidal wave of people in the central plaza, the side streets were practically deserted. He would rejoin in a moment. For now he meandered in the dark embrace of the pitched roofs, the moonlight cutting a silver path through their shadows. Or he would, were it not for the spine tingling sensation of being watched.

“You need not hide from me, my sinister Shinobi friend.”

A flutter of air drew his gaze left to a support beam beneath a slanted awning. Leaning against the thick wooden frame was the ninja in question, a lithe man in clothes of red and blue, his face obscured by a beak-like mask.

“You're perceptive.” The man spoke, his voice like gravel being crushed under a wagon wheel.

Odin chuckled and held his hand up, touching his fingers to the bridge of his nose and his hairline. “My third eye has been honed through years of immersion in the dark world.”

The ninja offered no response to his declaration, simply staring a hole through him. He was as rigid as a bamboo shoot, arms crossed tightly around himself. Though the lower half of his face was covered by his mask, the glare of his eyes, coupled with his sharp crimson hair, exuded an aura of menace. Undeterred, Odin plastered on a smile. “So then, you must be Lord Ryoma’s retainer? Saizo, wasn’t it?”

Saizo’s one good eye appraised the mage, flicking up and down like an animal sizing up a kill. “Yes.”

Odin stifled a chuckle in his throat. The brooding silent type. He was well acquainted with that age old character thanks to Gerome. Their outward appearance often belied their otherwise casual nature. ”Well since we’re both of equal station, why don’t we take a moment to get acquainted. I am the Umbral Mage of the Night King Leo, Odin Dark! I specialise in magecraft, if—.”

“Why are you here?” Saizo cut him off.

Odin’s grin faltered. He supposed Hoshidans after the war would be less receptive to him at first. “For the Coronation festival, of course.”

Saizo’s intense glower was as hot as a bonfire. “I mean, what is a Nohrian retainer doing skulking the back streets of a festival? Should you not be with your liege?”

“T’is nothing so sinister, o’ ninja of the primal flame, I’m simply taking a moment of respite. I am in fact returning to my liege now. Besides, unless Lord Ryoma stands behind me, I believe you have left him as well.”

“To investigate an unknown Norhian wandering where he should not.” Saizo corrected with a clipped tone. “Meanwhile you abandon your post for leisure. Are all Nohrian retainers this incompetent?”

“Do not let my flowing locutions deceive you, my good sir, I am more than skilled in the art of war. I have defended Lord Leo from many an ambush, and I have honed my craft since I was but a boy, raised in the art of the sword by my father and the art of magecraft by my mother.”

Saizo’s posture did not change, but his eyebrows lessened in ferocity by a degree. “So you do have some merit. Good. Let’s hope you do your job better than your predecessor.”

“My predecessor? To whom do you refer to?”

“I’m referring to the previous Crown Prince’s retainers. For your liege’s sake, I hope you’re more competent than them.”

It was Odin’s turn to go stiff. The comment, as casual and apathetic as it was, hit him like a club, leaving him breathless. “What do you know of them? Laslow was a fine swordsman.”

“Laslow.” Saizo drew out the name like savouring a dish, his eyes clouded in memory. “So that was his name.”

Odin’s heart stopped, the hairs on his neck stood up. The tone of familiarity settled in his stomach like poison as he looked at Saizo, as visions of black ninja stars embedded in Laslow burned into his mind. “You.” Odin breathed through dry lips. “You killed him.”

Saizo gave him a hard look betraying neither compassion or malice. “It was nothing personal. He stood in my way, and I was the better fighter.”

“Do not speak ill of him!” Odin stepped toward Saizo, his body violently shaking, his breaths coming in short, strained gasps. “He was a valiant and noble soul who gave his life for those he loved. How dare you mock him so callously!”

A small breath that could almost be described as a laugh escaped Saizo. “Mock? I do no such thing. He failed to protect his liege, it’s an undeniable fact.”

Heat billowed up Odin’s arm as a fire spell ignited in his hand. His rage, his pain, all coalesced into a single point of brilliant flame. Saizo would burn for taking Laslow away from him. He would know Odin’s pain, and he would stay alive long enough to regret his words. The world fell away into shadow, taking with it all sense of sound and time, leaving only the visage of his target. Saizo carefully shifted, his face unmoving as he reached into his sleeve.

“Now now, what’s all this about?”

Odin started as a hand clamped down on his shoulder. He was panting when he turned to see Niles, his cutting glare saying what his smiling mouth hid. The flame in his hand extinguished with a sizzle.

“That’s better.” Niles grinned wide as his hand not so subtly squeezed Odin’s shoulder. He turned his attention to the ninja. “Now then, I’m all for getting steamy, but this is a bit much. So tell me, what’s got you all so riled up?”

“Your friend threatened to attack the King’s retainer.” Saizo glowered, hand still in his sleeve.

“Oh, is that true, Odin? And what, pray tell, could prompt such a response? Surely you must have felt threatened or otherwise in danger of this retainer to do so?”

Odin dug his nails into his palms. “I…”

“I made no threats.” Saizo huffed. “It was he who took my words to heart.”

“You know not of what you speak!” Odin lurched against Niles’ hand, warmth spreading through his hand once more.

“Now now, children.” Niles tutted, pinching Odin’s shoulder so hard it sent sharp shocks up his neck. Once the message was received, he turned to Saizo. “So, you antagonised a grieving man, and while he’s a guest here too. For shame.”

“It doesn’t justify such an outburst.” Saizo protested, standing straight in indignation.

“No, it doesn’t.” Niles gave Odin a pointed glare. “But imagine how it would look for one King’s retainer to antagonise another King’s retainer to the point of such an outburst? Why, it would seem almost as though you meant to incense him.”

Saizo’s face twitched. Though Odin had initiated the conflict, even an accusation of involvement could tarnish Saizo’s reputation.

“Look, I get it. The war has only just ended. Tensions are high. Emotions are higher. So let's just consider this a venting session. You said some things, he said some things, sparks flew, now we can be friends. Come now, we’re all retainers to kings. Let's not dishonour our respective lords with petty squabbles.”

Saizo stared for a solid minute, his frame solid and unwavering. Odin trembled, gripping his wrist in an attempt at self control. The rational side of him knew Niles was right. This wasn’t the time nor place for such confrontations. But the raw, hurting side hungered for pain, to make Saizo hurt as he had hurt Odin. His blood boiled looking at him, mentally watching Saizo drive the life from Laslow then getting to walk away for another day. It was an injustice begging to be corrected.

Then Saizo closed his eyes, gave a stiff bow, and with a hand gesture almost too fast to see, disappeared. The object of his fury gone, Odin finally breathed a sigh.

“Thanks Niles, that was getting a bit—” A sharp thwack to the head cut him off.

“The fuck was that Odin?” Niles hissed into his ear.

Odin rubbed his head, stammering to find the words. “I don’t know. I just kinda lost my head and—”

“Lost your head?” Niles pinched the bridge of his nose. “You almost set the place on fire. Do you have any idea how much of an incident you could have caused?”

“I do understand.” Odin looked away from Nile’s piercing stare, only for Niles to grab his chin and yank him back around.

“You need to pull yourself together man. Alright, you’re not just a Nohrian retainer, you are the King’s retainer. Everything you do, everything you say, reflects on Lord Leo. Can you imagine the scandal you’d cause if the King’s own retainer started a fight in Hoshidan territory?”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” Odin’s arm warmed with increasing frustration as Nile’s lecture showed no signs of abating.

“What even possessed you back there?”

Odin took a shuddering breath, trying to force the horrid words around the lump in his throat. “Saizo killed him.” Odin looked to Niles with wet eyes. “He killed Laslow, and he insulted his character.”

Niles’ face softened. He threw an arm around Odin. ”Alright look, No one saw it, so it didn’t happen. So here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re going to forget about this, we’re going to go back to Lord Leo, and when we’re dismissed, we’re going to find a nice vendor and have a relaxing drink. You with me?”

A ghost of a smile lifted the corner of Odin’s lips despite the chasm of agony splitting his heart. “Not sure that’s a good idea, me drinking in this state.”

“Not a good idea without me holding your leash.” Niles corrected, leading Odin with a firm, but friendly arm. “Come on, Toasty.”

***

   It wasn’t hard to find Corrin near the central square, her shimmering silver kimono reflecting the lights of the festival in a dazzling display of colour, the folds of cloth flowing like water. She was accompanied by a few of her allies from the war, though Selena didn’t care to remember who they were. She approached Corrin, keeping her posture as calm as possible so she wouldn't get jumped for trying to attack her, the fires burning anew in her chest. She faltered a step as the princess locked eyes with her, her irises like glowing embers cutting through the lights and haze of the festival. Damn her. Damn her and her disarming stare. Gritting her jaw, Selena pushed on.

“You.” Was the most polite greeting Selena could muster, ignoring the looks from the Hoshidans.

“Hey, Selena. How are you finding the festival?” Corrin’s smile was tilted and off centre. She was on guard. She knew.

“Don't give me that nice princess shit.” Selena spat, unwilling to give Corrin any space to talk lest she lose her composure. “Have you spoken to Lady Camilla? Do you even know where she is?”

“Camilla?” Corrin's smile pressed into a line. “Yes, Leo told me she had come down with a fever and couldn't attend.”

“Uh huh.” A cold, venomous smile formed on Selena's face. “And do you know why? Let me give you a hint, it wasn't the fish.”

Corrin shone a polite smile at her allies, motioning for them to leave, her face glistening with nervous perspiration in the festival lights. She tilted her head towards a side alley between two buildings, leading Selena away from the crowds. She had half a mind to refuse, to chew Corrin out in full view of the festival goers, but at least this way she wouldn’t have to shout over the crowd.

“Is this about her issues with Hinoka?” Corrin asked once beneath the shadows of a roof awning, the false friendliness completely evaporated, replaced by a wary countenance like a dog unsure of a newcomer.

Selena scoffed and folded her arms, exercising self restraint in light of Corrin’s ignorance. “No! It's not about her at all. It's you! She thinks you don't want her around.”

“What? Why would she even think that?” Corrin shook her head in a desperate attempt to understand.

Selena rolled her eyes. “Oh I don't know, maybe it's because you keep leaving her to be with your family and then give her shit for being upset. Maybe it's because you don't even bother checking on her?”

Corrin’s face went as hard as the stone walls surrounding them. “I've been trying to mediate between them. Camilla hasn't been fully welcoming either. She's been aggressive towards my siblings, especially Hinoka. I understand she misses me, I miss her too, but her behaviour has been inexcusable.”

“What's inexcusable is you leaving her and expecting her to just fit in here. You know she was nearly bedridden when you left, right? The whole trip here she couldn’t stop talking about how excited she was to see you. And you’ve practically ignored her.”

“I’ve tried my best to balance my duties and spend time with her.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“Why do you hate me so much?” Corrin snapped.

“Oh where do I start? You're arrogant, you only think about yourself and you don't care what happens to anyone or how your actions affect them.” She should stop. Selena knew she should stop. But the words kept coming, bursting from her like the fireworks above.

“Excuse me?” Corrin drew herself up, her eyes blazing in the dark alley.

“No, you’re not excused, I'm not done with you, princess. I've got more where that came from.” A joyless grin stretched on Selena’s face. She had spent so long avoiding Corrin so as to not have to talk to her, but now she realised how much she had been holding back, it was ecstasy to finally overwhelm Corrin with the truth.

“What did I ever do to you? Is this about Laslow?”

If Corrin was trying to calm her down, she chose the wrong words. “No! It's about you. It’s always been about you. The whole reason we’re even here was to help you fight Anankos!”
Corrin stepped back as if she’d been burned. She knew. She knew about Anankos. Then there was nothing to hold Selena back.

“Yeah, yeah you recognise that huh? We were hired to help, but you fucked that up by leaving for Hoshido. We were already retainers by then, so we couldn't leave without being branded traitors. We were stuck in Nohr, all because of you! Laslow had to fight for Xander because of you! We knew Anankos was in Nohr, we knew you had to win. And so we helped pave the way. It was for you. It was all for you!” Her eyes stung from forming tears, body shaking as her wrath pounded at her defenses. “Tell me that we won! That Laslow didn't die for nothing! That that fucking dragon is dead! TELL ME!” Selena’s shrill shrieks were drowned by a fresh wave of fireworks, illuminating the sky in red.

Corrin stood rigid, eyes wide and lips firm. Selena’s breath came hot through bared teeth, a trembling snarl whose existence depended upon a vicious temper, tears flowing unbidden. Corrin's face flickered with the fireworks, turning over Selena's words into understanding. Surprise, realisation, contemplation, then understanding and most maddening, sympathy.

“Anankos is dead.”

Selena's breath hitched. The softness and care in her voice was disarming. It made her legs weak and her stomach roil. Her face grew hot as her anger petered out and realisation struck her like a hammer. She came for Camilla, to make Corrin understand what she had done. And instead she had unleashed her buried grief on her.

Oh gods.

She drew her arms around herself with a shuddering breath, lightheaded and sweating. She sought out the nearest bench, flopping onto it. There was no point in trying to save face now. “Tell me how he died.”

Corrin sat beside her, much to her irritation. She refused to make eye contact.

“When I fought Garon,” Corrin began. “When I struck him down, I knew he was dead. I made sure. And yet he rose, transforming into a horrific dragon. Just from the power, I could tell it wasn’t Garon. Something had taken his body and twisted it to fight us. Azura had told me enough for me to know it was Anankos.”

“Azura?” Selena quirked an eyebrow. “She was that songstress, right?”

Corrin nodded, clutching at something beneath her kimono. It occurred then to Selena she’d not seen Azura at any point during their stay. Or at all following the final battle. “Where is she anyway?”

Corrin looked at her with shimmering eyes and a slim smile. “She’s dead.”

“Ah.” Selena’s cheeks grew hot.

With a small sniffle, Corrin continued. “Even in an inferior vessel, Anankos was far too strong for us. Azura used her song to weaken and immobalise him.”

“You mean, like at the opera house?” Selena furrowed her brow.

Corrin’s eyes widened. “Oh, you know of that?”

“That’s how we knew Anankos was in Nohr.” Selena hummed, recalling the night Laslow came to her and Odin with glazed eyes and a haunted demeanour. “Laslow was there that night. He noticed her song affected Garon in a strange way. Apparently he saw a shimmer over him. I dunno.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “But that doesn’t make sense. How can her song weaken him if it didn’t do anything at the Opera house?”

“Because she used all of her power.” Corrin was met with a sceptical look. “When Azura sang, she drew power from an amulet. The more she used, the more powerful the spell. But it came at a cost. It ate at her the more she used it. And even though she promised me she’d never overdo it, the prospect of defeating Anankos once and for all was too great.” Small wet spots appeared on her kimono from fallen tears. “She used her song to bind Anankos’ spirit to Garon’s body. He couldn’t escape. When I drove the Yato into his head, I felt a fierce burning. It thrashed around, as if trying to break free. Between Azura’s song and my Yato, Anankos’ spirit could do nothing but fade to cinders. Believe me when I say Anankos is dead. Laslow didn’t die for nothing.”

Selena stared dumbstruck as relief blossomed in her chest. She felt like she was floating, elated and overwhelmed with the details. She and Odin had theorised Anankos was dead, but to hear confirmation was truly liberating. They had won. They could go home without second guessing. He could be at peace. Selena smiled, despite the tears. She flinched when Corrin lay a hand on hers. Despite its delicate appearance, she could feel the callouses on her fingers.

“Nothing I say can ever make this right. But I am grateful all the same. It may not feel it, but you've all been invaluable help. I just wish I had known sooner, I would have done everything in my power to help. I’m so sorry.”

Selena drew her hand away and cleared her throat. “Alright alright, don't get mushy with me.” She wiped her tears on the sleeve of her yukata. She was starting to see why so many had sided with Corrin during the war. She had a disarming stare and a keen instinct to understand a person on a level that felt familiar and personal. It was as comforting as it was disturbing. “We did what we had to because that was our job. That’s all.”

Corrin beamed her annoying grin. “And I am so grateful for it. Nothing I can do can ever fully repay you.”

“You wanna repay me? Pay more attention to Camilla.” It came out with less edge than she hoped. Her body ached with the weariness her anger left behind. She didn’t have it in her to muster any more. And after how Corrin had treated her so gently, surely she deserved as much in return. “She misses you. She has a funny way of showing it but she does. She just needs to know she still has a place in her sister’s heart.”

Corrin nodded, her hair cascading down her like silver waterfalls. “Yes, you’re right. I wasn’t very tactful last we spoke. I don’t condone her behaviour, but I haven’t been the best sister either.”
She looked up at Selena, her eyes still watery but bright. “Why don’t we go see her. See if we can’t convince her to come out.”

“That is the smartest thing you’ve said yet.” Selena smiled, pulling herself to her feet. Corrin rose beside her and the two began for the main street. The smell of black powder had blown away, replaced by the sharp scents of spiced meat. “And Corrin? Thanks, um, for telling me that.”

Corrin gave her a warm smile. “Of course. Anything I can do to ease your mind.”

***

   Camila had barely moved when Selena returned. The only change was a blanket pulled up to her chin. Even that was likely Beruka’s doing. The assassin watched from a corner of the room, giving Selena an acknowledging nod before returning to her watch. Camilla didn’t stir as Selena approached, not even when she knelt beside her. Selena reached out a hand, hesitating on whether to wake her. Her hand barely touched Camilla before she cracked an eye open, her features melting into a serene smile. “Selena? What are you doing here?” She brushed a knuckle over Selena’s cheek.

“Came to see how you were.” Selena clasped Camilla’s hand, relieved to see her smile. She nodded her head back. “Got a certain someone with me too.”

Camilla looked beyond Selena to Corrin, her mouth dipping and expression turning pensive.
“Shouldn't you be at the festival?” Her voice was as hard as the Nohrian wastelands.

Corrin knelt beside Selena, hands on knees pulling her whole frame in. “I was, but it doesn't feel right not having you there. So we came to see if you would like to join us.”

Not even Camilla’s carefully crafted stone mask could hide the flicker of longing in her eye. “I don't think I'm up to the crowds.”

“That's okay, you don't have to. We can sit beneath the palace balcony, eat some treats and watch some performances. What do you say?” Corrin held out a hand

Camilla bit her lip in thought, eyes downcast and shadowed from the lamp. She looked to Selena, who gave her a warm smile and reassuring squeeze. Then a small smile formed, and for the first time that evening she seemed alive. “Alright then. For just a little bit.” Camilla reached out and lay her hands over Selena’s.