fic: The Withered Rose
Aug. 8th, 2022 02:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: The Withered Rose
Series: FE4/5
Character/pairing: Reinhardt/Ishtar
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Ishtar's betrayal to the empire was found out, and she faces the judgment of the order of Loptous as the Welkenrosen nears.
But on the horizon, a crack of thunder echoes...
Word count:3,621
Author's note:
Alternate Divergent canon, also for the sake of this story Reinhardt didn't give Olwen the blessed sword. (Solely because I wanted him to still have it.)
Ishtar shouldered this burden alone. She was torn in two, both lady and traitor. And Julius had demanded Reinhardt be released from her service.
Now, his body would be somewhere lost in the River Thracia. The entire battalion had been destroyed in one attack. The Liberation Army, despite everything, was a force to be reckoned with.
She'd barely slept in days. The only thing that pushed her on was freeing all of them.
Even if it killed her in the process.
The night was broken by the sound of horses arriving. The reinforcements cut them off. Far too much for a small outpost of caravans.
It was a trap. No wonder it'd been too easy. Barely guarded, a tiny fort in the wilds. It should've been easy.
Julius knew.
Her contact had just come from the forests. An older abbot in the nearby church of Naga.
"Take the children and run. I'll face them."
"Are you sure, my lady?"
"Yes...do not worry. I will be fine."
The bishop led the children into the thicket, the rough patch back to the abbey.
She faced hundreds. Julius must've caught their trail. Did he know that in kiss was a lie? That even when she embraced him, she had thought of her next plans and her next betrayal?
"Mjölnir! Alight!"
The sheer power cut through the soldiers, until they were little more than ragged flesh, still twitching from the storm she'd unleashed.
But there were so many. As many as she'd felled, more came.
As if Julius had sent the entirety of his armies to this one point, to hunt her down.
And it wasn't a blade to her breast, but a rope around her neck pulled tight. Not enough to kill, but enough to make her drop Mjölnir and desperately try and pull away to get a breath. She gasped, eyes wide as she failed to pull free the bindings now on her wrists.
And then, the darkness.
*
The cell was small, dank and smelled faintly of blood and decay. Rust-colored stains filled it. Chains were attached to the walls, yet she was not bound.
Had she not lost Mjölnir, the bars were metal. They would take her power. But without her tome, she was powerless. She could not even use her peerege, for she would surely be stripped of every last title before death came to her.
The door creaked open, and in came a lone figure.
He stood before her, her once beloved. Fury twisted his face, until she could barely recognize the features she once adored.
The red hair that framed his face was tangled, unwashed. He looked almost feral now. She could smell death and sulphur upon him.
"You were the traitor? You? You were to be my queen. You were to rule with me. And all along you were stealing my harvests and killing my soldiers..."
His eyes turned more red, fiery. Around him was an aura of magic too fell to speak. She lost him in the darkness completely.
"You even killed your own Friegean soldiers!"
She'd done what she had to in order to save the children. Whatever it took, even if her hands were bloodied.
"I couldn't do it anymore, Julius. Please, this isn't like you. Please stop the hunts."
Julius turned his back on her, just as she had turned her back on him. Trying to betray him and salvage their love at the same time only meant she had so much more to lose.
She couldn't choose, and perhaps her hesitancy, her wanting it all caused Reinhardt's death.
She knew Julius would be furious when he learned. And he didn't even know that she hadn't acted alone. She'd worked with his very worst enemy to stab him in the back over and over.
"Give me the ring," Julius said.
When she did not react fact enough, he grabbed her hand and pulled it free. She let out a muted cry of pain at the sudden rending of metal against her skin. Tears spilled at the corners of her eyes. Strange--she thought she'd cried herself dry many months ago when Ishtore and Liza died, yet tragedy found her. She always found more reasons to weep.
His eyes were wild, unhinged, even serpentine. She no longer recognized the man who had been her lover. Not his voice, his actions. There was violence and fire in his eyes, not kindness.
I have been clinging to a ghost for years now, she thought.
Because whoever was before her was not Julius.
"You know what happens now. You'll face a fate similar to that fool Sigurd," he spat out.
"And when I find your allies, they will suffer the same."
"I had no others. I worked alone," she said flatly.
"If the entire Gelben Ritter hadn't been destroyed, I'd probably bring that Reinhardt here too burn with you. But, they're dead. Every last one of them killed. The Liberation Army did me a favor. I only wish I'd been there to kill him myself and watch the life come from his eyes as he knew this breath would be his last."
He laughed, but it held no mirth or joy. Nothing but pure malice. Her stomach twisted. Oh, the bliss he took in the thought of Reinhardt dead.
The same thought which had kept her awake, full of sobs until she was left numb. Of all the losses, she never thought it would be Reinhardt in battle.
"The glory of Friege killed by mere children. House Friege is pathetic in the end, filled with cowards and traitors."
Her lower lip quivered, but she tried to keep strong and not betray the overwhelming grief which had come to her when she learned the news. She bit down until she tasted blood in her mouth.
She could only hope she would be reunited when whatever the afterlife held for her.
"How far did your betrayal go, Ishtar? How much did he come between us? Did you bring him along to stab me in the back? Just for fun? Or were you sneaking off with him all along, and not simply to save the children? Did he ever leave a mark on you that you claimed was merely a bruise? Was it worth it?"
She flinched, not merely for his accusations, but the insinuations behind them. Any mention of Reinhardt by him always left her uncomfortable in ways words could not explain.
As if he had no right even to speak his name.
Reinhardt was too close, too precious to be sullied like this. Their bond too intimate to be tainted with such lurid claims.
Reinhardt had never touched her in any untoward way, never made a mere suggestion.
Had she wanted him to? Had he wanted to?
She still didn't know the answer.
Her voice trembled as she spoke, but she forced herself on.
"I-I always loved Julius, but you are not Julius...and you have not been for some time, have you?"
He smirked. His red eyes seemed to see deep into her very soul. They burned and glowed like embers.
"You're smarter than you look. Almost a shame you have to burn and waste the blood. You could be useful. Ah, well. I will find another queen. You are not the only beautiful woman of decent breeding in the world. There will be others. And this time, I will ensure loyalty most of all."
He held no sorrow or regret in the thought of damning her to the gallows. All he had within him was rage. So it truly was hopeless then. No matter how much she reached and tried, she couldn't save Julius.
She couldn't even save herself.
She sat down in the stone cell and counted down the hours until dawn, when she would meet her fate--and the Welkenrosen.
The tears came, as they always did. At this point, they were her only companion and comfort.
*
She was led to her death with mage guards at every side.
She was a lady of Friege. She held her head up. For once, she was glad that her brother hadn't survived to see her here, to be executed as a traitor. She would go down in history as a stain upon the name of Friege.
Mother would be appalled, probably disown her on sight. She was to marry the prince of Granvalle, not betray him. And father...would be just as disappointed.
Regrets, she had many. But saving the children was not one of them.
Her hands were tied behind her back. She walked towards the raised platform, soon to be razed by flames. It would be her pyre.
Withered roses for her grave.
They approached like night. They were amorphous, and how they moved, she wasn't even sure they were human any longer.
There was no preamble, no sermon, or last words. It was simply her judgment at last. A spark, the first breath of magic. An ominous chant in the air.
The skies were completely gray now, and heavy with rain. A drop fell upon her nose. Thunder echoed above them.
If only she had Mjölnir with her. She at least could die in battle, and take as many of these abominations out with her as she did.
Hatred burned in her heart in this last moment. For the order who had taken Julius from her and turned him into that. For the children they had taken from their homes and offered to the dragon god Loptous. For the land of Jugdral this cult had pulled into chaos all for the rise of some dread god.
Oh, if but she had more time, she could unleash a storm upon them. But, she was weaponless. It mattered not what magical power lie within her veins if she had no tome.
A bolt of lightning, with force as strong as Mjölnir struck the mage before her. Then, before even a breath passed, another.
Dire thunder!
Reinhardt lived. He must. No one else wielded that much power. The sea of robes parted. The robes would fall, but darkness dissipated.
She saw a flash of lightning from the cloudy sky. And, then, she saw a silhouette of a rider so familiar and beloved to her.
The Welkenrosen turned. Their dark robes fluttered. Only red eyes showed beneath the cloth.
Each hand was lifted. He would be the target now. She couldn't look, she couldn't look away. Would she be forced to lose Reinhardt again?
At least death would come soon. It was her only comfort.
Their hands rose. The chanting increased as Reinhardt charged to battle.
Reinhardt sneered as the magic hit him. He pushed through it, the fire of screaming faces. She heard a low groan, as his sword hit true and a magician groaned and the robes fell to the ground, surrounded by dust and ash.
He rode through them, the withered roses. The execution squad. She recognized the sword that cut through them--a gift from her, years ago. A token of her favor and adoration of him.
Each cut and a ghost was exorcised, and sent back to hell where it belonged.
"Reinhardt! I-I thought you died!"
He cut free her bonds, and placed the book in her hands.
"Prince Leif spared me, and for that I will forever be grateful. But that is for later. For now, we must deal with these vile creatures."
She felt the power of the ancient book in her hands. With it, Thrud had wielded unimaginable power. Now, she would wrestle back her fate--and gain her revenge.
She focused on her rage, her sorrow, her loss and channeled it into the words she chanted as she brought forth the fury of a storm. She felt her wrist encircled, terribly dangerous, but Reinhardt was skilled.
And perhaps the only who could touch a storm and survive like this.
She felt his power join hers, the edge of loss of his own, the pain, the fear that he had lost her all added to the force of Mjölnir.
He was known as the second coming of Thrud, even with no blood of Thrud within him. Yet, he'd managed to come this close to Mjölnir without being harmed.
Freezing rain beat down upon them now, called forth by their thunder magic. Her dress and hair clung to her cold skin. The hooded figures before her were engulfed in the raw power of Mjölnir and Dire thunder combined.
The brightness blanked out the entire skies, everything in the strike. The thunder eclipsed every other sound as the very earth was rocked with the force of this power. Then--she saw, eyes cleared.
All about them were scattered robes. She could not tell if there were even bodies, or if they had been coagulated darkness tethered or a mere moment, and had returned to their fell master.
There were more. She hadn't seen until the magic rose in the air like a plume of smoke.
He released her hand only to take the blow completely. His body before her, against her so she could feel him. He shouldered it, with barely a shudder. He smirked at the magician, as if the invite more.
Reinhardt was perhaps the only man who had in history taken two blows from the Welkenrosen and survived. He wiped the blood from his mouth to stain his white gloves.
"Reinhardt! You...you'll pay for hurting him! Mjölnir!"
The last stragglers were consumed in the power of the thunder, until it was dark abyss. In that dark abyss they disappeared, until there was little ragged scraps of cloth. Like they were abandoned puppets in the end.
"We must hurry before reinforcements come," Reinhardt said.
"And Julius..."
Soldiers they could face, but Julius wielded a power even beyond her and Reinhardt. She would no longer hesitate if she must fight him, for she had truly turned her back upon him now. However, she knew she would not survive.
She might not be welcome within the halls of House Friege any longer, traitor as she was. But she would save the children unto her last breath, and Reinhardt would be beside her.
He helped her up onto his horse, and they rode away from the hangman's gallows.
She would not suffer the same fate as Sigurd, not yet.
*
They only rested when they--and his horse--were all too exhausted to go on. Deep in the forest he'd put up a tent for them. A bonfire burned between them.
The storm had ceased, though the skies were still cloudy. They'd dried off by now, though she had little but the clothes an d jewelry she wore, and her tomes.
Everything else had been left or taken from her.
They had scarcely spoken, with only escaping in mind. She hoped Julius hadn't found her contacts, and the framework of churches and abbeys which Lord Arvis had built up to save the children.
She had continued his work. Even though she had vocally supported the abolition of the child hunts, she wished that she had started sooner in freeing them. That she had realized.
But, regrets, myriad as she had, did nothing for her.
The campfire lit their little corner of this dark forest. Reinhardt's horse was tethered to a tree.
She leaned inwards to the fire for warmth. Reinhardt sat beside her. Occasionally, he had pushed sticks in to feed the flames.
Reinhardt finally broke the silence and spoke. His voice was hoarse and raspy.
"Apologies..." Reinhardt said softly.
Reinhardt suddenly pulled her close. She looked up to him, searching.
"I almost lost you," Reinhardt said.
"I thought you dead. And I couldn't even properly mourn you," she said.
It was said with awe by both of them, the sheer gratitude that they had survived the impossible not once but twice.
"I barely slept. I rode for days when I heard the news in hope that I could be fast enough...I wasn't sure if I could make it, yet I had to try," Reinhardt said.
"I'm sorry that I brought shame to the name Schutaeze, and to Friege," she said softly. "I've turned you to a traitor."
"There is no shame. The shame is the empire's and their tyranny. I made my choice to come with you, and I do not regret it even if I go down in history as a traitor."
She rested her head against his chest. Was this relief in living, with how close the hangman's knot had come to her neck? She'd felt it before and pushed it aside. She'd had a lover then.
Now, she felt it again. her heartbeat, her life. Against him she felt so alive, as the pulse of electricity through her veins.
And in both in sheer gratitude and seeking she touched his cheek. And she dared further, until she brought his lips to hers. A kiss between traitors. As intense as a storm, and twice as powerful. His hands twisted in her her hair and freed her ponytail. When she broke apart, his fingers were still tangled in her long strands.
When she pulled apart, their forehead's touched and she rested there, pressed against him.
"I do not know what this is yet, but it could be love one day. I...have lost much and am still grieving."
Perhaps it already was and she simply didn't have the words to explain it, just as she could scarcely speak of what Reinhardt was to her.
"I'll wait as long as you need," he said.
"You are so much to me, Reinhardt. To define what I feel of you--it is complex, even difficult. Because there is so much I feel for you. Gratitude, loyalty, friendship, reliance, trust, and even perhaps love one day."
Even through the grief she knew so intimately, she felt a strong surge of joy. She would not have to be parted from Reinhardt. Not again.
A short rest, and their path would be clear again. They would free every caravan, ever child and strike back at the empire she had once served. If it meant that she was no longer welcome in the walls of House Friege, it would not matter.
This was the path she took, and she would accept the consequences whatever they were.
"I shan't even know where I will go after the war. If there even is an 'after,'" she said.
If Julius won, then...she could not imagine what would happen to the world. Ash and death and blood and subjugation to all of them. Nothing more than complete destruction of the entire land of Jugdral.
"You will always be welcome within the halls of the Schutaeze family."
"Olwen has joined with the army, both the Schutaeze siblings are traitors in the end."
"To ally with the army which killed Lord Ishtore and Lady Liza..." He shook his head.
"They free the children and the oppressed. But, I could never see them as allies. Not after they took Ishtore from me."
"Yes," he said tightly.
She knew it was a wound they both had.
"I hope that you both survive this war and are reunited. Even more now that you are almost allies."
"I should hope so too," he said. "She was quite angry that I did not join her there. I could not explain upon a battlefield. And I could never join an army which caused you pain, whatever their ideals."
Sorrow came across her face as she was reminded of the River Thracia, and where he had supposedly died along with the rest of the Gelben Ritter.
"I do not know what I would do if I lost you again. When I heard the news, I..."
Grief had overwhelmed her. She had pushed on, but had been outmatched in the end. She'd been too exhausted and beaten down by grief and exertion that she hadn't seen the signs. Then, she'd been captured by the empire she'd once served.
"I am sorry to have ever caused you any pain. I returned as quickly as I could when I heard the news."
His dark eyes lingered upon her.
"Friege is in an upset. Half support the empire. Others, those that are vocally against the child hunts are enraged that the empire would execute you."
"That is more mercy than I thought I would have," she said.
"And...no," he said.
"What?"
"...You are not ready for what I have to say. I shall hold my tongue."
"Say it. We could go to the gallows tomorrow. Just because we have cheated death once, it does not mean we will be spared again."
He closed his eyes a moment, then nodded.
"Then I shall. Princess Ishtar, I love you, and have for years. I adore your kindness, your gentle nature, your power and prowess. I cannot name a single thing about you that I do not adore."
She held close to Reinahrdt as the firelight before them crackled and flickered.
"One day, surely, I shall say the words back to you. Until then, please stay by my side always."
She did not step away from his embrace. In the dark forest, they stayed close.
Soon they would be back upon the path and freeing caravans, even if it brought her face to face with death and her ex-lover. It was a chance she would take.
After all, they had survived the Welkenrosen and left them little more than scattered petals. Perhaps they could survive even this war, and even Julius in the end.
Series: FE4/5
Character/pairing: Reinhardt/Ishtar
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Ishtar's betrayal to the empire was found out, and she faces the judgment of the order of Loptous as the Welkenrosen nears.
But on the horizon, a crack of thunder echoes...
Word count:3,621
Author's note:
Alternate Divergent canon, also for the sake of this story Reinhardt didn't give Olwen the blessed sword. (Solely because I wanted him to still have it.)
Ishtar shouldered this burden alone. She was torn in two, both lady and traitor. And Julius had demanded Reinhardt be released from her service.
Now, his body would be somewhere lost in the River Thracia. The entire battalion had been destroyed in one attack. The Liberation Army, despite everything, was a force to be reckoned with.
She'd barely slept in days. The only thing that pushed her on was freeing all of them.
Even if it killed her in the process.
The night was broken by the sound of horses arriving. The reinforcements cut them off. Far too much for a small outpost of caravans.
It was a trap. No wonder it'd been too easy. Barely guarded, a tiny fort in the wilds. It should've been easy.
Julius knew.
Her contact had just come from the forests. An older abbot in the nearby church of Naga.
"Take the children and run. I'll face them."
"Are you sure, my lady?"
"Yes...do not worry. I will be fine."
The bishop led the children into the thicket, the rough patch back to the abbey.
She faced hundreds. Julius must've caught their trail. Did he know that in kiss was a lie? That even when she embraced him, she had thought of her next plans and her next betrayal?
"Mjölnir! Alight!"
The sheer power cut through the soldiers, until they were little more than ragged flesh, still twitching from the storm she'd unleashed.
But there were so many. As many as she'd felled, more came.
As if Julius had sent the entirety of his armies to this one point, to hunt her down.
And it wasn't a blade to her breast, but a rope around her neck pulled tight. Not enough to kill, but enough to make her drop Mjölnir and desperately try and pull away to get a breath. She gasped, eyes wide as she failed to pull free the bindings now on her wrists.
And then, the darkness.
*
The cell was small, dank and smelled faintly of blood and decay. Rust-colored stains filled it. Chains were attached to the walls, yet she was not bound.
Had she not lost Mjölnir, the bars were metal. They would take her power. But without her tome, she was powerless. She could not even use her peerege, for she would surely be stripped of every last title before death came to her.
The door creaked open, and in came a lone figure.
He stood before her, her once beloved. Fury twisted his face, until she could barely recognize the features she once adored.
The red hair that framed his face was tangled, unwashed. He looked almost feral now. She could smell death and sulphur upon him.
"You were the traitor? You? You were to be my queen. You were to rule with me. And all along you were stealing my harvests and killing my soldiers..."
His eyes turned more red, fiery. Around him was an aura of magic too fell to speak. She lost him in the darkness completely.
"You even killed your own Friegean soldiers!"
She'd done what she had to in order to save the children. Whatever it took, even if her hands were bloodied.
"I couldn't do it anymore, Julius. Please, this isn't like you. Please stop the hunts."
Julius turned his back on her, just as she had turned her back on him. Trying to betray him and salvage their love at the same time only meant she had so much more to lose.
She couldn't choose, and perhaps her hesitancy, her wanting it all caused Reinhardt's death.
She knew Julius would be furious when he learned. And he didn't even know that she hadn't acted alone. She'd worked with his very worst enemy to stab him in the back over and over.
"Give me the ring," Julius said.
When she did not react fact enough, he grabbed her hand and pulled it free. She let out a muted cry of pain at the sudden rending of metal against her skin. Tears spilled at the corners of her eyes. Strange--she thought she'd cried herself dry many months ago when Ishtore and Liza died, yet tragedy found her. She always found more reasons to weep.
His eyes were wild, unhinged, even serpentine. She no longer recognized the man who had been her lover. Not his voice, his actions. There was violence and fire in his eyes, not kindness.
I have been clinging to a ghost for years now, she thought.
Because whoever was before her was not Julius.
"You know what happens now. You'll face a fate similar to that fool Sigurd," he spat out.
"And when I find your allies, they will suffer the same."
"I had no others. I worked alone," she said flatly.
"If the entire Gelben Ritter hadn't been destroyed, I'd probably bring that Reinhardt here too burn with you. But, they're dead. Every last one of them killed. The Liberation Army did me a favor. I only wish I'd been there to kill him myself and watch the life come from his eyes as he knew this breath would be his last."
He laughed, but it held no mirth or joy. Nothing but pure malice. Her stomach twisted. Oh, the bliss he took in the thought of Reinhardt dead.
The same thought which had kept her awake, full of sobs until she was left numb. Of all the losses, she never thought it would be Reinhardt in battle.
"The glory of Friege killed by mere children. House Friege is pathetic in the end, filled with cowards and traitors."
Her lower lip quivered, but she tried to keep strong and not betray the overwhelming grief which had come to her when she learned the news. She bit down until she tasted blood in her mouth.
She could only hope she would be reunited when whatever the afterlife held for her.
"How far did your betrayal go, Ishtar? How much did he come between us? Did you bring him along to stab me in the back? Just for fun? Or were you sneaking off with him all along, and not simply to save the children? Did he ever leave a mark on you that you claimed was merely a bruise? Was it worth it?"
She flinched, not merely for his accusations, but the insinuations behind them. Any mention of Reinhardt by him always left her uncomfortable in ways words could not explain.
As if he had no right even to speak his name.
Reinhardt was too close, too precious to be sullied like this. Their bond too intimate to be tainted with such lurid claims.
Reinhardt had never touched her in any untoward way, never made a mere suggestion.
Had she wanted him to? Had he wanted to?
She still didn't know the answer.
Her voice trembled as she spoke, but she forced herself on.
"I-I always loved Julius, but you are not Julius...and you have not been for some time, have you?"
He smirked. His red eyes seemed to see deep into her very soul. They burned and glowed like embers.
"You're smarter than you look. Almost a shame you have to burn and waste the blood. You could be useful. Ah, well. I will find another queen. You are not the only beautiful woman of decent breeding in the world. There will be others. And this time, I will ensure loyalty most of all."
He held no sorrow or regret in the thought of damning her to the gallows. All he had within him was rage. So it truly was hopeless then. No matter how much she reached and tried, she couldn't save Julius.
She couldn't even save herself.
She sat down in the stone cell and counted down the hours until dawn, when she would meet her fate--and the Welkenrosen.
The tears came, as they always did. At this point, they were her only companion and comfort.
*
She was led to her death with mage guards at every side.
She was a lady of Friege. She held her head up. For once, she was glad that her brother hadn't survived to see her here, to be executed as a traitor. She would go down in history as a stain upon the name of Friege.
Mother would be appalled, probably disown her on sight. She was to marry the prince of Granvalle, not betray him. And father...would be just as disappointed.
Regrets, she had many. But saving the children was not one of them.
Her hands were tied behind her back. She walked towards the raised platform, soon to be razed by flames. It would be her pyre.
Withered roses for her grave.
They approached like night. They were amorphous, and how they moved, she wasn't even sure they were human any longer.
There was no preamble, no sermon, or last words. It was simply her judgment at last. A spark, the first breath of magic. An ominous chant in the air.
The skies were completely gray now, and heavy with rain. A drop fell upon her nose. Thunder echoed above them.
If only she had Mjölnir with her. She at least could die in battle, and take as many of these abominations out with her as she did.
Hatred burned in her heart in this last moment. For the order who had taken Julius from her and turned him into that. For the children they had taken from their homes and offered to the dragon god Loptous. For the land of Jugdral this cult had pulled into chaos all for the rise of some dread god.
Oh, if but she had more time, she could unleash a storm upon them. But, she was weaponless. It mattered not what magical power lie within her veins if she had no tome.
A bolt of lightning, with force as strong as Mjölnir struck the mage before her. Then, before even a breath passed, another.
Dire thunder!
Reinhardt lived. He must. No one else wielded that much power. The sea of robes parted. The robes would fall, but darkness dissipated.
She saw a flash of lightning from the cloudy sky. And, then, she saw a silhouette of a rider so familiar and beloved to her.
The Welkenrosen turned. Their dark robes fluttered. Only red eyes showed beneath the cloth.
Each hand was lifted. He would be the target now. She couldn't look, she couldn't look away. Would she be forced to lose Reinhardt again?
At least death would come soon. It was her only comfort.
Their hands rose. The chanting increased as Reinhardt charged to battle.
Reinhardt sneered as the magic hit him. He pushed through it, the fire of screaming faces. She heard a low groan, as his sword hit true and a magician groaned and the robes fell to the ground, surrounded by dust and ash.
He rode through them, the withered roses. The execution squad. She recognized the sword that cut through them--a gift from her, years ago. A token of her favor and adoration of him.
Each cut and a ghost was exorcised, and sent back to hell where it belonged.
"Reinhardt! I-I thought you died!"
He cut free her bonds, and placed the book in her hands.
"Prince Leif spared me, and for that I will forever be grateful. But that is for later. For now, we must deal with these vile creatures."
She felt the power of the ancient book in her hands. With it, Thrud had wielded unimaginable power. Now, she would wrestle back her fate--and gain her revenge.
She focused on her rage, her sorrow, her loss and channeled it into the words she chanted as she brought forth the fury of a storm. She felt her wrist encircled, terribly dangerous, but Reinhardt was skilled.
And perhaps the only who could touch a storm and survive like this.
She felt his power join hers, the edge of loss of his own, the pain, the fear that he had lost her all added to the force of Mjölnir.
He was known as the second coming of Thrud, even with no blood of Thrud within him. Yet, he'd managed to come this close to Mjölnir without being harmed.
Freezing rain beat down upon them now, called forth by their thunder magic. Her dress and hair clung to her cold skin. The hooded figures before her were engulfed in the raw power of Mjölnir and Dire thunder combined.
The brightness blanked out the entire skies, everything in the strike. The thunder eclipsed every other sound as the very earth was rocked with the force of this power. Then--she saw, eyes cleared.
All about them were scattered robes. She could not tell if there were even bodies, or if they had been coagulated darkness tethered or a mere moment, and had returned to their fell master.
There were more. She hadn't seen until the magic rose in the air like a plume of smoke.
He released her hand only to take the blow completely. His body before her, against her so she could feel him. He shouldered it, with barely a shudder. He smirked at the magician, as if the invite more.
Reinhardt was perhaps the only man who had in history taken two blows from the Welkenrosen and survived. He wiped the blood from his mouth to stain his white gloves.
"Reinhardt! You...you'll pay for hurting him! Mjölnir!"
The last stragglers were consumed in the power of the thunder, until it was dark abyss. In that dark abyss they disappeared, until there was little ragged scraps of cloth. Like they were abandoned puppets in the end.
"We must hurry before reinforcements come," Reinhardt said.
"And Julius..."
Soldiers they could face, but Julius wielded a power even beyond her and Reinhardt. She would no longer hesitate if she must fight him, for she had truly turned her back upon him now. However, she knew she would not survive.
She might not be welcome within the halls of House Friege any longer, traitor as she was. But she would save the children unto her last breath, and Reinhardt would be beside her.
He helped her up onto his horse, and they rode away from the hangman's gallows.
She would not suffer the same fate as Sigurd, not yet.
*
They only rested when they--and his horse--were all too exhausted to go on. Deep in the forest he'd put up a tent for them. A bonfire burned between them.
The storm had ceased, though the skies were still cloudy. They'd dried off by now, though she had little but the clothes an d jewelry she wore, and her tomes.
Everything else had been left or taken from her.
They had scarcely spoken, with only escaping in mind. She hoped Julius hadn't found her contacts, and the framework of churches and abbeys which Lord Arvis had built up to save the children.
She had continued his work. Even though she had vocally supported the abolition of the child hunts, she wished that she had started sooner in freeing them. That she had realized.
But, regrets, myriad as she had, did nothing for her.
The campfire lit their little corner of this dark forest. Reinhardt's horse was tethered to a tree.
She leaned inwards to the fire for warmth. Reinhardt sat beside her. Occasionally, he had pushed sticks in to feed the flames.
Reinhardt finally broke the silence and spoke. His voice was hoarse and raspy.
"Apologies..." Reinhardt said softly.
Reinhardt suddenly pulled her close. She looked up to him, searching.
"I almost lost you," Reinhardt said.
"I thought you dead. And I couldn't even properly mourn you," she said.
It was said with awe by both of them, the sheer gratitude that they had survived the impossible not once but twice.
"I barely slept. I rode for days when I heard the news in hope that I could be fast enough...I wasn't sure if I could make it, yet I had to try," Reinhardt said.
"I'm sorry that I brought shame to the name Schutaeze, and to Friege," she said softly. "I've turned you to a traitor."
"There is no shame. The shame is the empire's and their tyranny. I made my choice to come with you, and I do not regret it even if I go down in history as a traitor."
She rested her head against his chest. Was this relief in living, with how close the hangman's knot had come to her neck? She'd felt it before and pushed it aside. She'd had a lover then.
Now, she felt it again. her heartbeat, her life. Against him she felt so alive, as the pulse of electricity through her veins.
And in both in sheer gratitude and seeking she touched his cheek. And she dared further, until she brought his lips to hers. A kiss between traitors. As intense as a storm, and twice as powerful. His hands twisted in her her hair and freed her ponytail. When she broke apart, his fingers were still tangled in her long strands.
When she pulled apart, their forehead's touched and she rested there, pressed against him.
"I do not know what this is yet, but it could be love one day. I...have lost much and am still grieving."
Perhaps it already was and she simply didn't have the words to explain it, just as she could scarcely speak of what Reinhardt was to her.
"I'll wait as long as you need," he said.
"You are so much to me, Reinhardt. To define what I feel of you--it is complex, even difficult. Because there is so much I feel for you. Gratitude, loyalty, friendship, reliance, trust, and even perhaps love one day."
Even through the grief she knew so intimately, she felt a strong surge of joy. She would not have to be parted from Reinhardt. Not again.
A short rest, and their path would be clear again. They would free every caravan, ever child and strike back at the empire she had once served. If it meant that she was no longer welcome in the walls of House Friege, it would not matter.
This was the path she took, and she would accept the consequences whatever they were.
"I shan't even know where I will go after the war. If there even is an 'after,'" she said.
If Julius won, then...she could not imagine what would happen to the world. Ash and death and blood and subjugation to all of them. Nothing more than complete destruction of the entire land of Jugdral.
"You will always be welcome within the halls of the Schutaeze family."
"Olwen has joined with the army, both the Schutaeze siblings are traitors in the end."
"To ally with the army which killed Lord Ishtore and Lady Liza..." He shook his head.
"They free the children and the oppressed. But, I could never see them as allies. Not after they took Ishtore from me."
"Yes," he said tightly.
She knew it was a wound they both had.
"I hope that you both survive this war and are reunited. Even more now that you are almost allies."
"I should hope so too," he said. "She was quite angry that I did not join her there. I could not explain upon a battlefield. And I could never join an army which caused you pain, whatever their ideals."
Sorrow came across her face as she was reminded of the River Thracia, and where he had supposedly died along with the rest of the Gelben Ritter.
"I do not know what I would do if I lost you again. When I heard the news, I..."
Grief had overwhelmed her. She had pushed on, but had been outmatched in the end. She'd been too exhausted and beaten down by grief and exertion that she hadn't seen the signs. Then, she'd been captured by the empire she'd once served.
"I am sorry to have ever caused you any pain. I returned as quickly as I could when I heard the news."
His dark eyes lingered upon her.
"Friege is in an upset. Half support the empire. Others, those that are vocally against the child hunts are enraged that the empire would execute you."
"That is more mercy than I thought I would have," she said.
"And...no," he said.
"What?"
"...You are not ready for what I have to say. I shall hold my tongue."
"Say it. We could go to the gallows tomorrow. Just because we have cheated death once, it does not mean we will be spared again."
He closed his eyes a moment, then nodded.
"Then I shall. Princess Ishtar, I love you, and have for years. I adore your kindness, your gentle nature, your power and prowess. I cannot name a single thing about you that I do not adore."
She held close to Reinahrdt as the firelight before them crackled and flickered.
"One day, surely, I shall say the words back to you. Until then, please stay by my side always."
She did not step away from his embrace. In the dark forest, they stayed close.
Soon they would be back upon the path and freeing caravans, even if it brought her face to face with death and her ex-lover. It was a chance she would take.
After all, they had survived the Welkenrosen and left them little more than scattered petals. Perhaps they could survive even this war, and even Julius in the end.
