fic: Hush (1/2)

[bonnefois]

Title: Hush (1/2)
Fandom: FE4/5
Character/Pairing: Reinhardt/Ishtar, some appearances of ensemble
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Reinhardt survives the river Thracia, and returns to the last battle to join his lady liege, even if it is in death.

He faces down much of the Liberation Army, while his lady is grievously wounded...
Word count: 4,597
Author's note:

Since the latest forging bonds confirmed that Ishtar was seeking death in the final battle, as many people already suggested as a reading of her last actions, I got to wondering what would've happened if Reinhardt was around that time.

(The answer in canon is probably 'they died together' because Kaga era Fire Emblem but, still.)

Assumes that Reinhardt wasn't killed at Thracia, which is easy to not do...if your staff wielders are in good enough shape. Most people don't fight him anyways.

Also assumes a mild divergence with the Reinhardt-Olwen talk, slight condensing of events (Or just assuming that they happened while Reinhardt was riding out.)

I've always assumed that Ishtar's early cut scene talking about people who support the end of the child hunts not just included Ishtore, herself but Reinhardt as well. I always personally thought she didn't mention him by name because Julius would go berserk at the mere mention of him.



The Gelben Ritter had been ripped to pieces by the army. He was the last, spared and left in the cold dirt.

Blood and mud stained his vestments, the gold and black long gone dull.

He'd spoken to Olwen, but he'd been unable to reason with her in the end. They'd gone their separate paths. His dear little sister who had always followed him, was now his enemy.

Each road crumbled down into nothing, until only one path remained. One with no family, no liege, nothing.

He saw a glint of white beside him.

He pushed himself up from the dirt. Death hadn't claimed him yet. Even past the pain, the humiliation, one thought refrained.

If he died, let him die by her side.

This beloved sword had been pointed at his throat. In the end, Olwen's determination had faltered. Her hand had trembled. In a rage, with tears at the corner of her eyes, she'd slammed it to the hilt, stabbed into the dirt instead of into his chest. He wiped the dirt from the blade, so pure and peerless that the metal looked almost white.

If he rode now, he could reach Bellhalla, where she would surely be. He could reach her. His liege.

And what? To yet again hear the single most words that had ever hurt him, like a cut deep into his flesh. That she didn't need him anymore, because she had Julius.

He'd known she'd never love him, that no amount of glory or anything he ever did would ever catch her eye. It didn't matter how adept he became at magic. He could become a true rival to Thrud himself and it wouldn't matter, because he wasn't Julius.

But, at least he'd thought that he could protect her and stay by her side.

And if she sent him away again? If she cast him aside, told him to his face again that he was meaningless to her, because she had Julius? The pain was already unimaginable. To feel it again...

Then what?

He stared down at the Blessed Sword, a token of her favor that he'd once had.

He sheathed it. Maybe she'd send him away again, but at least he'd have his honor as a knight to die with his countrymen. At least that.

He no longer had a sister or a liege. But he would return to the battlefield for Friege even if he burned with the walls of Friege itself as the entire dukedom fell.

*

He rode for days, with little break. The fear was swallowed up by the numbness of losing everything in a matter of days.

Maybe it would've been better to be executed by the Welkenrosen, or by Julius's own hand. To feel the searing hellfire just as the traitor Sigurd had.

But, these thoughts were a distraction. Bellhalla was in sight now. There was a good chance he might be executed on the spot if Julius caught sight of him. The very thought left Reinhardt not with fear, but a lingering, slow burning rage.

He wasn't accustomed to fearing the prowess of anyone.

The Liberation Army had many, many fewer soldiers. And, despite it all--they seemed to be winning the war.

He passed the broken, bloodied bodies of her pegasus knights, and felt dread clench his chest so tight, he could scarcely breathe.

If they had fallen, then....

From the distance, a surge of electricity unparalleled. The light caught her lavender colored hair as a halo. He saw her. She still lived, but it was no relief. She took to the battlefield with such grace.

But, no more guards surrounded her. Had Julius let her go alone, with a small force which had been cut through by the Liberation Army? What was he thinking?

But, he knew her. Knew she did not fight back as she could've. She welcomed the blade that came for her. She smiled as the Mystletainn came for her. She sought it, the demon blade that pierced her skin. Smiled as the blood dripped from her lips.

He flinched at the first cut, as if it'd been his own flesh which was punctured.

Son of Eldigan, the Lionheart. The blade he wielded was legendary, and deadly beyond compare. It longed for blood, and had to be sated often.

Reinhardt's hands tensed. Even without a single chant, his body thrummed with power.

No, not now. No, not her.

Never her.

Her dress was stained in red. Blood dripped from her lips, and her skin was even paler than usual.

But, she still lived in this moment.

First, the blow of thunder, Ares' horse reared back. The second hit him true. Ares looked back, shocked and furious.

Then, he brought out a sword. Not the blessed sword. Few could survive the touch of that, of his lady's favor.

He charged ahead, and managed two successive slashes, leaving Ares's dark coat stained with blood.

It was shallow; a warning. He could've struck true, and left his body to join the rest. He didn't.

Ares clutched his arm, where Reinhardt's blow had struck. Not deep enough to kill, but enough to wound. Blood gushed from between his fingers.

"Ares!"

From behind him, a dancer. Her dress was frills and fabric, ripped from an attack.

Reinhardt rode up, until he was just before her, ready to take any blow. If Mistletainn sought blood, let it try and take his.

"If you do not step back, I will be forced to kill you, Ares, son of Eldigan. A shame to see the line of the lionhart snuffed out," Reinhardt said.

"You--"

His face contorted in rage. But, the dancer pulled him back.

"Don't! You'll get killed!"

Reinhardt took this chance to dismount, only to lift his liege's broken body up against him. He held her close to his chest.

If he'd been mere moments later, then...she would've been lost.

"Reinhardt...I..."

"Don't push yourself. You're injured," Reinhardt said. He could not for once keep the emotion from his voice.

"Don't....don't...for my sake. Please...go back to Friege and be safe. I just...wanted you to be safe."

His grip tightened upon her.

"I swore an oath unto life, and I meant it. If I am to die, let it be by your side as a knight of Friege. Don't send me away again...I won't listen, even if you command it. To be parted is too cruel."

"Reinhardt, I'm so sorry....I...wanted you to live. Please understand that. Julius...would kill you. And I couldn't have that. Not...you."

"My lady, please do not strain yourself...I'll cut down these insolents and take you to healing," Reinhardt said.

Even now, she struggled to breathe from the wound.

"Oooh...." Her eyes closed.

"Princess Ishtar!"

"Forgive me," he said softly. He held her tight to his body, desperate even. Her weight would affect his prowess in battle.

Hopefully the Liberation Army wouldn't try and target her. If they truly fought for justice as they claimed, they'd let her life. None were as just as her in this world.

Her heart still beat, but for how much longer, he could not say.

His body shielded her, sheltered her as more of the liberation army came forward. A mage, of Friege. He recognized the distinctive hair color. The same as Princess Ishtar's.

"So be it, then," Reinhardt said.

The mage, of Friege descent surely, summoned forth thunder magic. Reinhardt smirked as the force of the thunder magic hit him. He'd gotten worse static shocks stepping out of bed than this. This one had a long ways to go in his spellcraft.

Still, it did not sit well with him to kill one of Friege's heirs. He had been tasked with protecting them at any cost. Even one from the line of Tailtiu, the lost daughter of Duke Reptor. Once beloved, then a traitor.

"You should not skip your practice, child of Friege," Reinhardt said.

He lifted his hand, a warning bolt slammed down into him, twice.

"Arthur!"

So there was where little Tine went to. He'd heard the news she had defected, but knew little more.

She'd grown quite a bit since then. Had she stayed, Ishtar surely would've marked every bit of growth upon the wall. She'd have planned a birthday party, even amid the war.

And she'd have never realized the kinds of things Queen Hilda was capable of. Of what she did to Tine, and Tailtiu before her.

What an ache, a cut to see Tine on the other side. As much as when he knew it was truly hopeless, and he had lost Olwen.

Tine clutched to Arthur's arm.

"Y-You faced Reinhardt....he must've taken pity upon you and held back. He's the strongest knight of all of Friege. Perhaps in any land."

"I've never faced anything like this. It's like facing down a storm."

A cleric girl with curly hair came closer to heal Arthur. They were just out of his reach. A physic staff? For a bunch of children, they were well equipped, at least.

"I can't face him. I'd die...and he was always kind to me. I couldn't betray him like this. It was hard enough to see Princess Ishtar on the battlefield."

His expression hardened as he turned to those of the Liberation Army that faced him. He couldn't be merciful. Princess Ishtar was bleeding out as he wasted his time in feeling sorry for lost children.

Still, he couldn't fight her. She was still a child, barely thirteen. Though Queen Hilda had treated her horribly, he had done his best by her. Princess Ishtar had been largely blind to the faults of her mother. So it lay to Reinhardt to protect her.

For Princess Ishtar's sake, for Tine's sake. She was an innocent, not worthy of the things Queen Hilda would've gladly done for her.

"Little Tine..." Reinhardt said solemnly. "So I face you upon the battlefield too."

"I'm sorry, Lord Reinhardt. You were always kind to me."

"Lift your head. You are an heir to House Friege."

Tears fell down her cheeks as she did.

"I won't attack you. Princess Ishtar would be saddened by your death. I will not do anything which could cause her to cry. And...you have always been dear as my own family to me. Retreat with him. Go from this battlefield before you get hurt."

"We don't have a choice, Arthur. There's no way we could ever beat Reinhardt. We need to find Nanna and heal that wound."

Arthur was reluctant, but he finally went.

He watched them go. This might be the last time he ever saw them, the lost heirs of Friege.

The dancer had all but dragged Ares back. Now, it was the son of Sigurd who approached him.

Reinhardt withdrew his most precious possession: The sword she had given him. Given to his sister, then rescued from the battlefield after Olwen and he had parted ways.

The token of her favor. He'd almost cast it away, given it to his sister, but she had left it.

A sword so powerful and well made, that it could cut down entire armies of knights.

Even at his most dire moment, he couldn't let go.

Seliph resembled the portraits of Sigurd that Reinhardt had seen. Of course, most were burned, just as Sigurd had himself. Some were kept hidden away, deep in Chalphy. Just like the ever burning embers of revolution among the populace. They'd made Sigurd into a tragic folk hero, raised him from the ashes as their pennant and saint.

At times, you'd see the murals upon stones and bridges of a man wreathed in flames, with the lines a true hero who died for us burned into the sides.

The son of Sigurd came closer. He held the Tyrfang within his gloved hands, and his face was full of kindness and resolve.

"So you are the one they call the Scion of Light. One fated to oppose the darkness. I must say your leadership upon the battlefield is impeccable. You have fought the strongest armies in the world, and won. To that, you have my admiration and congratulations. Unfortunately, fate has decreed we must be enemies. In another life, perhaps, we'd be on the same side."

"I had much help," Seliph said. He was quiet and gentle and humble, even to the last.

It would be a shame to kill him, to snuff out the light.

"I wish it could be this life. Must we fight?" Seliph said softly.

"Princess Ishtar is grievously wounded. I must protect her, at any cost."

Her lids closed, listlessly. Blood stained her Friegean dress. She still lived he thought. She might be wrested from the grips of death--a death she sought herself.

"I have held back for far too long. Would your revolution end here, son of Sigurd?" Reinhardt said.

"You are but mere children seeking revenge, and you have that right after your parents were slain. However, come against Friege, any my lady again, and you will know no mercy. I cannot let her perish. I was tasked personally with guarding her, and I swore my very life upon it."

"I see," Seliph said.

"Since we were both young I have taken this task. To me, it is nothing more than the most important thing within the entire world. She is most important...I cannot fail. Anyone who crosses my path will die. I hold no ill will to you, Scion of Light. But, Lift your sword against Princess Ishtar and I will kill every last one of you. This war will stop here. That is your last warning."

"The priest told us. She saved the children. She betrayed the empire."

"She vocally opposed the hunts for a long time, even when it might draw the ire of Lord Julius. She did much within Friege to try and stop the child hunts. To hear that she took such steps..."

It made him love her more, and feel a pang that he hadn't been able to guard her during those times. That she hadn't asked him to go with her. He'd have gladly been a traitor if she asked. If only she'd asked. He had found the hunts distasteful, and had never personally sullied his hands with such things, but he had never taken such a stand as her.

And for that, his cowardice, Olwen might never speak to him again.

He looked to the guileless, gentle face of the man before him.

A general needed to know when to retreat. And Princess Ishtar was far more important than any victory. Especially as he held no loyalty towards Lord Julius and his empire.

Any victory against these children would feel hollow in the end, as he again served a man he despised, who broke Princess Ishtar's heart over and over, and ordered increasingly vile and horrific acts against the most innocent.

"Son of Sigurd....With Princess Ishtar hurt, and so many of House Friege dead, I am the highest in command. Whatever command I give, the soldiers will obey it. And Lord Julius is no ally of mine. If he appeared before me now, he would kill me. That is how much he despises me."

"Even back then, I wished for a way to avoid fighting Ishtore. He seemed a good man," Seliph said.

"He was. He was vocally opposed to the child hunts as well. Had fate taken another turn, you would''ve been allies."

Reinhardt sheathed his beloved sword.

"Let me offer you this. If you will let me retreat, and take my Lady back to Friege, I will ensure the remaining troops of Friege will not attack you, and we will return to our homeland. Friege will for now, become a neutral territory, and let the empire fend for itself," Reinhardt said.

He looked down to his beloved liege. She still breathed, though shallowly in her state.

"Friege has committed unforgivable sins. But, to ask for Princess Ishtar, to take the blame is unacceptable. She fought against the child hunts harder than any. She was honorable and just, and does not deserve judgment. If some life must be taken for Friege, then let it be mine. I'd gladly climb the gallows if it meant her life would be spared."

"I wished for a world where she could join our cause," Seliph said.

"Perhaps, if you can defeat Granvalle, there will be a world where that can happen," Reinhardt said.

Seliph put his sword down. Reinhardt sheathed his own, as Seliph stepped back.

"Then, let us have this peace, even if temporary. Any that can be spared should be."

"You have my word... and my eternal thanks," Reinhardt said.

Reinhardt gave the command.

"Soldiers of Friege! Draw back, and protect Princess Ishtar at all costs. We must bring her to safety!"

Few were left, but those that hadn't fallen in battle rode along with him. The caravan of the last of the once great Friege.

Reinhardt rode back with Princess Ishtar held tight to him, all the while praying that she could be spared. That fate could be changed.


*

It wasn't Friege they returned to, but a small abbey. He didn't dare risk her wounds any longer. Each priest of the entire abbey pooled their powers to heal her.

They were surrounded by cold stone. She lay upon the cot. Books of medicine and studies of plants filled the walls in tall bookcases.

She didn't wake from her stupor.

The hours passed, and night came and went. He didn't sleep. He couldn't bring himself to leave her side. Even as the exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him, he stood back straight and at attention.

When he heard the news, he knew no sorrow. Julius was never his ally, and unlike his beloved Princess Ishtar, he could not see the supposed good in him.

He waited in a new world for her return. Prayed for it even as his mind went numb from exhaustion and worry.

After many times of being illuminated with a healing staff, and many hours of sleep, her eyes slowly opened.

She awoke to a new dawn.

How beautiful she was, even in her current state. She was so gorgeous it made his heart ache. He welcomed the numbness to return.

"What...happened? I'm back in Friege. W-Wait.... Lord Julius....where is he?"

The first name on her lips, and it was his. Such was fate. Still, he felt an almost palatable pain, as if she'd taken a knife and stabbed deep into him, then twisted it.

More salt to the wound that would not heal. Nothing more.

He should be long used to her love for Julius, how he would never have her love. It still hurt every time, even as he tried to force down his feelings.

"He fell in battle," Reinhardt said flatly.

She pushed herself up so quickly that she almost collapsed again. He reached immediately to steady her. He pulled back.

He had no right to touch her, even as he longed to.

"Not so fast, you've suffered a grievous injury," he said.

"What? Has he been healed? Where is he?"

There was such desperate and wild hope in her eyes. It hurt to say the words, for how he knew it would affect her, even as he did not mourn the prince of Granvalle.

"Princess Ishtar.... The empire has been defeated. The Liberation Army has been victorious. Lord Seliph will now take the throne. And Julius...upon death, the dark dragon Loptous manifested. He was the heir of the Loptous."

She let out a soft cry and pressed her hand to her chest, just where her beating heart would be.

"No....It can't be. Not Julius...Tell me this is a dream. Please, Reinhardt. Let this be a dream..."

"There was nothing left to bury. His body dissolved into ashes. Much like what happened to Sigurd."

She buried her face in her hands. Her body was racked with sobs.

To stay here beside her and see her full of such pain was as if he was pierced with the same blade. He had no right to touch her, and yet...

He knelt beside her bed and brought her into his arms.

"I'm sorry, Princess Ishtar. I cannot abide to see you ever unhappy. And I cannot simply stand aside and watch you cry."

She clung to him, even desperately as she cried.

"Why was I alone left to shoulder this pain? Sometimes it is so overwhelming, I wish I had died. Then at least I would be with them and not living with this endless agony!"

His body tensed at the words. He knew she had faltered in that moment and sought death from her grief, but to hear the words was complete agony. He wasn't enough to make her want to live. Perhaps he never would be.

"Please never speak such words. Friege would be lost without you. I would be lost without you," Reinhardt said hoarsely.

"Ah...I'm sorry. I must see ungrateful. You saved me, and here I speak of casting it aside. It simply...hurts. More than words can say."

"You have been through far too much."

He held her close, but did not dare to let his heart hope even for a moment. Even though Julius was gone, that did not mean he would ever have a chance with her.

"I'm sorry for troubling you..." Princess Ishtar said.

"You are no trouble or burden. Come to me any time you need. I will do whatever you need."

He wiped away her tears. She leaned her head against his chest, and one last sob escaped her mouth.

"Thank you, Reinhardt...thank you."

"Always, Princess Ishtar...." he said.

This is where he belonged, by her side. As her knight, her constant, but never hers. If it meant he would have a loveless life, then so be it.

Finally, after she'd cried herself dry, she spoke again.

"We have peace finally, but at what cost? Ishtore, Liza, mother, father, and even Lord Julius... It was far too much."

"I am sorry, Princess Ishtar."

It was little, but it was the only comfort he could offer.


*

The children got their revenge. They'd beaten the strongest military forces in the entire world, and now took back the titles they had lost.

With such bright minds, Jugdral would be led in a new, good direction. Or he should hope.

In the stony walls of this baracks, close to Bellhalla, close to where Sigurd had burned upon the funeral pyre rained upon him.

Princess Ishtar said nothing, lost in her sorrow, and her memories. She'd been here before, with Julius surely. Always with Julius.

He stood before Lord Seliph again. This time not as combatants, but as tentative allies.

"I thank you for sparing us. You could've destroyed the entire Liberation Army there, but you held back," Seliph said.

He nodded. "And I thank you for sparing Princess Ishtar."

Reinhardt held out his hand. Not in war this time, but a shake.

"Let me congratulate you, son of Sigurd. Lord Seliph, you have avenged your father's name. You showed tactical prowess beyond even the greatest generals. And most of all, you showed kindness and gentleness in the face of the worst atrocities."

"I still have much to learn," Seliph said.

And he took Reinhardt's hand, for just a moment.

House Friege was in mourning still. Many of their halls had fallen in the war. The anniversary. There were so many of them. The day she lost Julius, the day she lost Ishtore and Liza, her mother her father.

Today would've been her wedding day, had Julius survived the war. She wore the colors of mourning, a veil across her face like a bride ready for burial.

Her dress was black and long. It went against the styles of usual Friege dress. A mourning dress was dour, without decoration.

But, life went on. Treaties were to be signed. She signed them. Documents of peace.

Even as things within Augustria were still tense. The burning times had come back with a vengeance. With the reveal of an actual heir of Loptous, many innocents were dragged away by mobs to be burned at the faintest suspicion of being of the Loptous empire, or the blood of Maera.

Friege loved Princess Ishtar for her kindness, but the other nobles were more wary.

But, Reinhardt knew all too well that peace was fragile. Especially with what Friege had done within the war. Perhaps some wished for a harsher hand upon Friege, but Seliph was too kind for such a thing. Princess Ishtar was not stripped of her titles, or put it exile for its crimes.

And had she been, it would've been a grave injustice, and he would've gone with her and shouldered the burden.

Territories were ceded back to their rightful owners. Friege's boarders lessened, and the military presence within Thracia was removed entirely. Much of the coffer of Friege was used to rebuild.

Some would never forgive Friege. Some whispered of her being the bride of the Beast.

He would stand beside her anyways, whatever the costs. Even if history called him a traitor. He was hers, always.

*

In these times, as her second-in-command, Reinhardt took care of duties. He rarely left her side.

One day, past official duties, she turned to him.

"Reinhardt, have you spoken to Olwen?"

"We have gone our separate paths."

"What separate paths? The war is over," she said.

It mattered not. The bonds could not be so easily fixed.

"I wanted to thank you," she said.

"I have the power to change the world now. I have much to atone for, as does Friege. I'll keep living."

She looked down to her hands.

"I sought out that blade. I welcomed death, and you pulled me from the edge, surely as if you had cut through death itself. I said some horrible things in my shock and grief, and I'm truly sorry for giving you such a scare."

She smiled up at him, the first smile he'd seen from her in so long.

"Thank you....Reinhardt. Without you, I would've surely died there as well."

"It hurts, this life. But some things are still beautiful. And I must protect them."

It was the first hint of hope.

He hoped it not the last.