fic: Hush (2/2)
Aug. 29th, 2022 02:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: Hush (2/2)
Fandom: FE4/5
Character/Pairing: Reinhardt/Ishtar
Rating: PG-13
Summary: two years after the events of the war, Ishtar finally comes out of mourning.
word count: 5,391
Author's note:
I originally was gonna leave it at the last part, but after I finished the LP of Thracia I was watching, I had Linoan and Deen's last scene on my mind.
She had worn the voluminous black mourning clothes for two years, since almost the moment she had woken. Her face had been obscured by the dark veil, to replace the veil she would've worn had Lord Julius lived.
But, today she wore the usual Friegean dress. A black and gold dress with a long slit to reveal the legs. Two years beneath the veil of a mourning bride left her skin even paler than before.
"You've returned," he said.
And each sight of her beauty and kindness was another twist to his heart. Two years and he was no further along from getting over her. He had resigned himself to carry the love he had for her for the rest of his life, no matter how much it hurt him.
"It was time. This sorrow will always reside within me," she said.
In a fort nearby a training exercise of Friegean military was scheduled. The leader asked his presence personally. It was only a few hour's ride, and much of the soldiers of Friege had been decimated.
He bowed.
"By your leave, I shall go on ahead for a short while. My presence has been requested for a training exercise," Reinhardt said.
True, he didn't often leave her side. But, a stronger military would mean less worries for him. And, it was mere hours away. And he used to do such things. He gave messages before.
It was even encouraged, one could say. Julius was with her, and their presence together would cause friction.
But, her expression turned at first blank, then completely troubled, even grave. He saw fear in her eyes.
"No...."
"Queen Ishtar?"
Panic, sheer panic. She held to his wrist, even desperately. He'd seen this look upon her face before, when she'd gotten the horrible news that Melgen had fallen.
"Don't leave me alone! Please don't leave my side! You can't go, not you, Reinhardt. Please, Reinhardt. It's far too cruel. So many times I have said goodbye and those I love never returned. Please...stay beside me. Please don't leave me all alone...I don't know what I'd do if I lost you, too."
Her voice trembled and broke at the last word.
She tensed. He was at a loss for words momentarily.
"Forgive me...I did not mean to cause you any unhappiness. Another can be sent in my stead."
"I know logically that it is peacetime and you will return in some hours, but....the terror it clutches at me. I said goodbye to Ishtore and never thought it would be our last meeting. And the thought of that happening to you haunts me. Terrifies me. You must stay. You are all I have left. I do not know what I would do if you died on me, Reinhardt."
"I will do it, whatever the cost," Reinhardt said.
"I feel safe around you. After the war, there was a creeping horror always. I could lose anyone at any time. Nothing was safe."
She took her hand away shyly, even abashedly.
"Sorry for being a burden."
"You have never been a burden for a moment. You are entirely right; this is my duty. Others can see to this."
He would send someone in his stead, and make sure the few soldiers of Friege knew that his place was at at her side.
*
Friege had not seen much levity in these years. Deep in her mourning, Princess Ishtar had not taken to galas. Even festivals were pushed ahead to other years. Everything had been put to rebuilding, and even now, Friege was not quite to the glory it had been before the war.
But, the day she took off her mourning attire, she began to plan a celebration. What might have started as a grand gala turned to a small gathering at best.
Her stance in the Frigean nobility--what was left of them, that was--was somewhat fragile at the moment. Reinhardt kept quite a few spies particularly upon the remaining families, to ensure there was no looming insurrection on the horizon.
Something had changed in her, he noticed now. Not merely the return from her grief. He had never quite seen her like this. Almost inexplicable.
Amid the planning of the celebrations, a lady had come often to House Friege, and Princess Ishtar's countenance around her was rather strange.
Even more so when the day came, and she stood with wine in her hand--almost desultory as she watched Reinhardt's conversation.
Queen Ishtar was the kindest woman he had ever known, yet even to this lady her smile was strained. Lady Tremaine was rather bold in her search for a second husband, but she was pleasant enough company. Certainly she had a quick riposte, and was well acquainted in many subjects, making her a good partner to converse with.
She did speak to Reinhardt often, and each conversation was rather enjoyable.
But, Queen Ishtar would not leave his side, even when there was more to attend to. In fact, as Lady Tremaine spoke, Princess Ishtar's hand lingered upon his arm, even possessively. Reinhardt looked to his liege, to notice just how tense she was. Did she think Lady Tremaine would try and steal him away to be her knight? The thought was laughable.
There was no other he'd serve but Queen Ishtar.
Yes, Lady Tremaine had some wealth and influence. But, she was not Queen Ishtar, and he was no dastard who could easily be swayed away from his oath of loyalty with a flirtatious glance and a bit of gold.
If Lady Tremaine wished to find herself a knight for her service--or a husband, for that matter--she would have to look elsewhere. He would be in Queen's Ishtar's service, until death did them part.
Not many had come to this gathering. Small steps to begin, he supposed. Still, the finery of the ballroom reminded him of simpler times. Lanterns hung high, the halls aired out and smelling of magic and new pine. The dance floor washed until it shone, and many tables of food and drink to be enjoyed.
Times where he'd watched Ishtar laugh and take such joy in the night, then dance the night away in her lover's arms. All while Reinhardt stood guard.
Once, just once, they had danced.
When Lady Tremaine had gone for refill of her wine, Queen Ishtar stayed near.
She'd donned a new dress for the dance. The skirt was long, made of a filmy, close to sheer material, with a typical Frigean slit. The lacy bodice low enough to be distracting, and her long, lavender hair was swept back with flowers.
And the coloring was mixed between periwinkle blue and white. It brought out all her beauty, surely. Though she'd look beautiful even in the unwashed clothes of a beggar.
"We danced once. Do you remember?" She said softly.
Every moment, every second. It meant so much to him, as precious as his blessed sword. He had poured over that moment many times, even during his darkest moments. When he had lost everything, but his life, his body to the cold earth near the River Thracia.
But all he said was: "Yes."
"I should like to once more. Would you come to the balcony with me?" she said, even shyly. Reinhardt was unaccustomed to awkwardness and shyness between them. Their bond of trust had been absolute for long.
He followed her out into the moonlight.
No violins, no orchestra, nothing but the sounds of night insects and the moon before them. He followed her to there. How rude to leave the crowd, even scandalous, but whatever she asked he would give it. If it was to kill, to raze cities, or to dance in the moonlight. Anything, anything.
He held out his hand; she gladly took it. To the sounds of the night, they danced a waltz so perfect, so symmetrical. The footwork so elegant and unparalleled.
It was rude, terribly rude for the host to spend the entire night dancing with her guard and ignore the other guests. It might be forgiven for newlyweds, so deep in love, but they were not anything but knight and liege.
Even more so to abandon the party altogether, even momentarily for a moonlit dance.
He saw a hint, a glint of the woman she'd once been. So full of joy and gentleness. She smiled so beautifully in his arms as they spun, then danced in the moonlight. On the precipice, the edge. He fell in love with her deeper.
He thought that not possible. He always thought his heart was full to the brim of her. Yet, she always found ways to make him adore her more.
She leaned in, almost enough for their bodies to brush. Her fingers entwined with his. Her lavender hair fell down her shoulders. The moonlight caught her lashes, her skin.
So lovely, lovely.
"I should wish to stay in your arms all night...in a dance."
"If you wish. Though I fear I shall make many enemies, if I take up all your time," Reinhardt said.
And even more rumors if they stayed out late together.
"I wouldn't dance with them, even if they asked. They wouldn't have your superior footwork."
She had been in a state of mourning, thus the marriage proposals had paused. But, a woman such a Queen Ishtar would gain the attention of many. He would have to prepare his heart for the moment when he would have to watch her marry another, for duty or for love, be what it was.
She would never be his.
He would have to remind himself this even more. To draw her near in a dance would be a treasured moment, and nothing more than that. For he would never have another.
He looked down at her rosebud lips and wished to kiss her. The pull was too strong. How he wanted to bend down and feel the warmth of her body against him. Her curves, the softness of her skin. It would be so easy. After years of holding back, it was just the moon and them.
It would be so easyto lift her chin, to kiss her. So easy to lose himself in this moment and give in to the love for her which had been his constant companion for years.
She looked up at him, and in this light she was ethereal, a goddess. There was something in her eyes he couldn't quite discern in the dark. Longing? Not for him. Never for him.
He couldn't. He'd drank a bit of wine and now he was thinking of the impossible.
"We should go back in before we're missed," he said.
He pulled away and let go of her hands. Reinhardt left before she could make a protest, or convince him to stay.
*
She reached out to a glass of wine and trailed her long, graceful fingers across the rim.
Lady Tremaine, and the few others were long gone. Now, maids cleaned up the remnants of the night.
The magic and lanterns had been extinguished. Soon, everyone but the night guards would be asleep.
"Lady Tremaine has her eyes set upon you," she said. And in her voice was something different. A tension. After so many years, he knew her. He noticed every small response, and acting accordingly.
But even him, with all his bond of trust, still unbroken by the war and what she had done, could not quite understand her behavior lately.
"Has she?" he said disinterestedly.
The last thing he wished to speak of was Lady Tremaine. Of course, she was pleasant company and he held her no ill will.
Many did. Reinhardt paid them little heed. Let them think he was wed to duty, for there was no other he'd ever be wed to but her.
Even if she would never want him that way. It mattered not. He'd shoulder the burden and the pain if that was what it took to keep her safe.
"You have not noticed the attention she pays you? You are a clever general and a brilliant mage, but you seem somewhat blind to the ways of love."
He wasn't blind. Simply, he only had eyes for Queen Ishtar. As hopeless as he knew it was, no other had swayed him, even when he tried.
Years ago when she was to be betrothed to Lord Julius, Reinhardt had tried to fill the emptiness, and to find another to fill the utter agony in his heart. He'd tried to move on, only to have those attempts at falling in love with someone other than her fail utterly. He got something of a reputation for it, too--one that remained to this day. Even if he hadn't taken a lover in years.
Reinhardt never wished to leave any heartbroken, so eventually he stopped. No matter how beautiful or compelling the person, they were not Queen Ishtar, and could not replace her within his heart. He accepted his fate, and in his resignation he found new resolve and strength for his duty as a knight.
He had come to the conclusion that none could ever replace her, and to do so would only lead to folly and tears. He would simply live here, by her side as her knight and nothing more.
He could live a life without a love returned. A life of service, where his heart was buried so deep until the feelings were a dull and constant ache to be endured.
"She was to dance with you, but I asked first, and the dance was unending. I made sure of it."
"Then you did me a great favor. If she continues, I shall be forced to find a way to gently reject her," he said.
And the rejections were troublesome. He usually prevented them from happening entirely by burying himself within duty. Making himself so indispensable to Friege that few could find the time to meet him in idle chatter.
But, Lady Tremaine was persistent. he would have to give her that.
She looked up to him--a glance almost hopeful and shy and soft in ways he could not explain. Because there was no shyness between them. Not after these many years together, side by side as knight and liege. Since they were both so young.
"Then she has not caught your eye? She is a land-owner of considerable wealth, especially after being widowed. Her husband was a high-ranking official within the war. Her mourning has just ended, and now she looks to remarry."
"Then I wish her well in her search, but it has nothing to do with me," Reinhardt said.
"I see... Good," she said.
She lifted the wine glass and took a sip. She'd probably regret that in the morning.
"Are you not tired? It is quite late now," Reinhardt said.
"A little, I suppose. My feet are a bit sore."
"Yes, we overdid it. Far too many dances."
"No such thing. I will simply take a bath tomorrow and soak them. Everything will be fine," she said.
"You should've said something. I would've carried you from the dance floor if need be."
She blushed at that. Perhaps he should've used a different turn of phrase.
"I had too much fun, I didn't wish to stop. It's been a while since I've had much joviality."
She let out a soft sigh. Her lavender ponytail swept across her back as she rubbed at her neck in the most delicate way.
"I used to be able to stay up much of the nights in merriment, now I grow more tired once the sun has scarcely set."
"You now have all of the responsibility of Friege upon your shoulders," he gently reminded her.
"Not all. You've always ensured that, Reinhardt. You shoulder every burden you can. I hope you never leave my side, Reinhardt. I shan't know what I should do without you."
"I shall remain in your service until death claims me. Now, I must turn in as well. If anyone sees us alone like this, it could be misconstrued."
"A rumor of us?"
She pushed her lavender colored hair over her shoulder.
"I should rather like to be mistaken for yours. Even better if it was no mistake."
His brow furrowed. What a strange thing to say. Perhaps it was some jape or quote. Ah well, the hour was late and she had felt unwell as of late.
He had to remind himself that he could only come so close. She wasn't his, and never would be.
He could not let himself hope. It would be too painful to have his hopes dashed when it was revealed she meant nothing by it at all, and he had completely misconstrued the situation. It had happened before, that her kindness was simply kindness. His liege was nice, and at the end off his day, she was still merely his liege and nothing more.
Never anything more.
Because even as he came back to her service, he still remembered the deepest cut he'd ever felt. How she had sent him away. Said she didn't need him any longer.
He didn't let himself hope any longer. Not when it came to her. It would be a fool's errand. He wasn't Julius, thus she would never love him. It was as simple as that.
"You should go to bed. You must be very tired," he said.
"You're always so protective," she said.
"It is my calling, my duty, and my pleasure to do so," he said.
She yawned. "I shall, then. I shan't wish to worry you. Good night, Reinhardt. I hope you have sweet dreams."
"Yes, you as well," Reinhardt echoed.
She left down the hall as the gathering wore down. The moon was high in the sky now, full and golden to ripple in the pool below the balcony.
Reinhardt stayed up a while longer. he sipped at his wine. His mind wished to go over those words. They'd sound almost...flirtatious?
But, it could not be. Queen Ishtar did not love him. In all these years, she had never loved him and only loved Julius. He'd accepted this, accepted that these feelings would leave his life always a bit bittersweet. That he would stay by her even as she married another. Even as it felt like the ache would tear him apart, even as she looked up in love and adoration to her future spouse.
She must've had too much wine and said something imprudent that she would forget by morning. Never mind that her words didn't slur or stammer, not even a little.
The wine made him melancholy and a bit sleepy. He looked up at the moon in its peerless beauty.
Queen Ishtar was far more beautiful, by far. But he had no right to the words, now did he? No right to even think such things.
The momentary pleasure of basking in his love for her would always turn bittersweet when he remembered, he realized that there would be nothing more than a dream, a fantasy.
He didn't dream any longer. He finished the glass and headed to his chambers.
*
He was no stranger to his lady's favor. She had bestowed a sword to him once, the finest sword he had ever wielded. But, now, near daily he was graced with signs of her appreciation. She made a new title for him: Queensguard. Little changed in his daily duties, more prestige was bestowed upon him. He was even deeded some more land for the Schutaeze estate his parents lived upon. She'd even managed to track down fine Isaachean horses with coats that looked like spun gold as a gift for his father, who had retired from his service to breed horses.
Reinhardt was not a commoner; his father and mother had been from minor noble families with few land titles, and had earned even more peerage with their service to Friege's military. Even now, there were hushed and even awed whispers of the family Schutaeze. Lady Audra, his mother, and her peerless control of magic. And Sir Richard, the finest and most loyal knight in the land of his era. Only Lady Audra's stubbornness had kept him from dying on the battlefield.
His parents had always adored her, and now even more as she bestowed favor upon every single member of the family Schutaeze. Almost to a degree to potentially cause strife in other knights.
"Come, dine with me," Queen Ishtar said.
More and more, she was pulling him away for private dinners. While he enjoyed her presence, he was well aware that rumors could spread should they be seen going off alone together too many times.
Once would be dismissed as simply official business. But, constantly? Rumors would abound that he visited her bedchambers before long, and he couldn't have her reputation besmirched.
The tablecloth was pristine. The room had a faint scent of rust, though he couldn't tell where. It must've been a room for meetings at some point. Old weapons and tapestries lined the walls.
"Your mother told me how you liked these," she said.
Upon the table was a plate of small cookies. He recognized the scent immediately.
"You've been in contact with her?"
"Of course," Ishtar said.
"I would remember them from them, regardless. Of course, I did not have the recipe," Ishtar said.
"I haven't these for some time. They're a specialty of the Zwei region."
They were small cookies, filled with honey and pieces of cut apples. The flour was thick brown sort. The capital preferred the more refined flour, but this particular came from Silesse. It gave the cookies an almost earthy taste to go with the slight sweetness.
"I remember eating them together when we were children, and I visited the summer manor in the Zwei region. Every summer we'd go there. And you'd visit your family. Little Olwen would follow us everywhere. She utterly adored you. She was such a sweet girl. We'd ride into the orchards and pick fresh apples. Once, I accidentally disturbed a wasp's nest and you pulled me back and took every sting. You were covered in red welts for days, but you never cried or ever complained."
"Do you remember, Reinhardt?"
"Of course. They are some of my most treasured memories," Reinhardt said.
"You were only a few years older than I, but you were so strong. I never feared anything. We could explore to our heart's content any wood or thicket or cave, for nothing could stand before you and not fall to your powers. I always felt safe with you around. Few could even begin to match you, let alone challenge you."
"I still do," she said softly.
"I miss when the biggest problem in my life was that I might get stung by a wasp, or get a stomachache from eating too much. When I could be assured that I would see Ishtore again once it was over. It was always such grand fun. I cannot find that innocence any longer. My hands are too bloodstained," she said.
He took a bite of the sweet cookie and remembered. Curled up in the orchards, Olwen at his side, and his liege beside him.
"Thank you."
"I'm grateful for your favor, truly. You are the kindest liege a knight could ever ask for. But, are you worried? No one will ever steal me from your service. By your side is where I belong."
She glanced down, in a new form of shyness which he kept seeing within her. Something which made no sense from how many years they'd known each other and known absolute trust.
"Ah, I should've known you would realize. You always knew me best. It is true, I still feel a little out of sorts when Lady Tremaine comes and has her eye upon you, to take you away from me."
"Don't. She has no sway over me. She could name any sum and I would not take it to be in her service," Reinhardt said.
She lifted her gaze. Her eyes were stunningly, even hauntingly beautiful.
"But, you've done so much for me. I should hope to repay it. And...to make you happy. Are you happy, Reinhardt?"
Worry filled her face.
"I am here, by your side. Reminiscing of times, eating my favorite cookies which you have some magnanimously provided me. It is a good day."
Except, be there was bittersweet. But, he would endure this pain as he did. It did not kill him. It was far more painful to be parted.
"It was good to remember such wondrous times."
"It can be good again. I know there will always be the pain of those we lost within the war, but we can rebuild."
"...Even when I feel hopeless, you help me find it again. I am truly grateful to you, Reinhardt."
And they sat down for tea and cookies and memories. Temporarily, all sadness was set aside.
It would return. It always did.
*
Weeks passed and her mood was still fragile and strange. After a day of official business, he was just about to turn in. She caught his arm, and held tight.
"Reinhardt, come with me," she said.
He took his leave, and followed her. She lead him down the hall--and to her chambers. He was well aware that other soldiers had seen. Soldiers that would gladly gossip with their fellow comrades and lovers. Before the night was done, half the country would know that he had been invited quite blatantly to her chambers.
It could be...misconstrued, if they were seen together like this.
As her knight, he had at times been there, but scarcely without a chaperone. At times, to carry her back to bed when she'd drank too much. She could indulge a bit during dinner parties, especially if the wine was to her taste.
Still, perhaps she needed some help. He would be just a moment.
The room in its luxuries was little more than shadows in the dark. She didn't even light a candle, though with her precision and mastery in magic, she easily could've, even from a distance. Moonlight shone through the windows, over her back. Her hair was caught in the light, like a halo.
She truly lived to her nickname of The Goddess of Thunder.
She came closer, closer. He tensed as he felt the pressure of her hand upon his chest. He looked down, scarcely able to believe that she had touched him there.
Perhaps it was simply to steady herself?
"Reinhardt...." She said softly. And the way she said his name changed. Like it was an endearment.
He'd noticed this, in the past two years. The emphasis, the breath as she spoke his name. He ignored it, knowing nothing would come of it. For it never did.
After years of burying his feelings, and denying any hope, he had no forewarning for the feel of her lips soft against his as she held tight to his black and gold coat.
She had to stand on her tip-toes to reach him.
He was being--kissed? By Queen Ishtar? Had he walked into some beautiful dream of what never could be?
Something within him broke. The walls he had put up to protect his heart and keep him focused upon his duty, even as he loved her. He pulled her in an embrace, and deepened the kiss, even crushed their lips together.
Reinhardt pulled away. Here he was, in his lady's chambers, kissing her. As if he had any right to love her, to want her.
"...I should go. I do not wish to besmirch your reputation. Surely some saw me come to your chambers. If I stay long, then rumors were come."
"Let them. In fact, I welcome them," she said.
"Come to the chaise with me. I feel as if my knees will buckle after a kiss such as that."
"Is that so? Then let me take you."
He lifted her up effortlessly. Called a bridal carry, her clutched tight and precious to his chest. She let out a soft noise in her surprise, and held tighter to him.
He set her down gently on the chaise.
"Must I leave your arms?"
"I'll stay close," he said.
"Then I'll come even closer," she said.
Her hand upon his chest again. She could feel his beating heart.
"I have been all but throwing myself at you. I could not be more blatant. I was at my wit's ends, and feared you did not feel the same, but I thought one last try. My final stand. I couldn't simply give up upon you so easily."
She leaned in to kiss up his jaw. He scarcely dared touch her, or believe this could be real. Her lips were so soft and warm upon him.
"I awoke from my grief to find you still beside me. And like spring coming after winter, I began to realize I wished you by me forever. Not merely as my knight and longer," she said.
Her hands lingered at his chin, cupping his face with such adoration and dearness.
"What I wish...is for everyone to know you belong in my chambers, that it would be where to find you. No, I wish them to be our chambers. Not simply as a lover. The one I wake up with every day and go to bed with every night. The father of my children, the one to rule Friege with me."
She looked up at him through her lashes.
"Am I too bold and soon to say I wish to wed you? I have tried being subtle. It hasn't worked. I have flirted with you boldly, I said I wished to be seen as yours, and got nothing more than a furrowed brow. I knew you a stoic, but I didn't expect it to this extent when it comes to love. I said I wished to be seen as yours, and got nothing more than a furrowed brow. Perhaps I am untalented at such things," she said.
"No...I thought you had simply drank too much and pushed it aside," Reinhardt said.
"Despite that, I was still quite sober. I hadn't enough to make me lose control," she said.
Her hands fell to her sides. Her sorrow was infinite, and unfathomable in that moment.
"...I wanted nothing more than to be yours, for so long. But, I could not. You loved another. I buried my feeling deep inside, like I was digging my own grave. I grew used to never letting myself have a moment's hope. You were kind, I would remind myself. It meant nothing. Even to words like this...I couldn't believe such adoration would ever be for me," Reinhardt said. Emotion turned his voice raspy, hoarse.
"But it meant so much to me. You saved me. You helped me see the world as beautiful again. Little by little, I fell in love with you. I am surprised it did not happen sooner. Perhaps I did and I never saw the signs."
He took her hand in his. The most he could do as his heart hammered in his chest.
"Yet...I was so near and yet I could not reach you. Every single day you would be beside me but not mine. The thought of someone else taking you from me kept me up at night. It was wonderful to be close to you, yet so painful that you weren't mine," she said.
And it echoed everything he'd felt for years. Every ache she had felt as well. What strange ways fate had.
"What you have said...it is how I have felt for years, years. And, Queen Ishtar, you are wrong. I was yours. I have been for so long."
"So long? Even then?"
He nodded.
"I've hurt you gravely. Please, allow me to make up for this with the rest of my life."
"No...you have nothing to make up for. I would've shouldered far heavier burdens for you, without ever saying a word."
"Still, you're holding back."
She pressed her fingers to his lips, exploring him.
"Old habits, I'm afraid."
"How many kisses will it take to release them?"
"We shall see," he said.
"If I asked you, even pleaded for you to kiss me, would you?"
"You needn't beg," he said, his voice raspy.
He pushed her down gently to the chaise and kissed her more, deeper.
"Stay with me."
"I'd stay with you even if you sent me away, even in death, Queen Ishtar."
"Good. I shall hope neither will come to pass ever again."
"And I," he said.
*
Epilogue:
Reinhardt and Ishtar married so soon as to be almost scandalous, until rumors expected a child born months after. Their first child was born a year later, a son named after Reinhardt's father, Sir Richard. A daughter named Isadora was born the year after.
Olwen attended the birth and wedding, though their relations were still strained. It took many years to rebuilt their sibling relationship, just as it took many years to rebuild Friege itself.
Ishtar and Reinhardt returned to the Zwei region of Friege, his homeland many times. And by all accounts, they returned Friege into a state of glory it had not known for many years.
No longer was Friege torn by political upheaval and traitorous plots, but a time of greatly deserved peace came across the land.
Under her rule, Friege became known as a land of scholars and mages. The army was rebuilt, but no longer was Friege to be the lapdog of an empire, with bloodied hands. Like Reinhardt himself, the army of Friege was firm but a strong protector of the land.
While she had suffered much in her life, Ishtar found joy in her devoted husband and children. Ishtar and her consort, Reinhardt, were well loved and considered the greatest rulers of Friege since Thrud himself.
Fandom: FE4/5
Character/Pairing: Reinhardt/Ishtar
Rating: PG-13
Summary: two years after the events of the war, Ishtar finally comes out of mourning.
word count: 5,391
Author's note:
I originally was gonna leave it at the last part, but after I finished the LP of Thracia I was watching, I had Linoan and Deen's last scene on my mind.
She had worn the voluminous black mourning clothes for two years, since almost the moment she had woken. Her face had been obscured by the dark veil, to replace the veil she would've worn had Lord Julius lived.
But, today she wore the usual Friegean dress. A black and gold dress with a long slit to reveal the legs. Two years beneath the veil of a mourning bride left her skin even paler than before.
"You've returned," he said.
And each sight of her beauty and kindness was another twist to his heart. Two years and he was no further along from getting over her. He had resigned himself to carry the love he had for her for the rest of his life, no matter how much it hurt him.
"It was time. This sorrow will always reside within me," she said.
In a fort nearby a training exercise of Friegean military was scheduled. The leader asked his presence personally. It was only a few hour's ride, and much of the soldiers of Friege had been decimated.
He bowed.
"By your leave, I shall go on ahead for a short while. My presence has been requested for a training exercise," Reinhardt said.
True, he didn't often leave her side. But, a stronger military would mean less worries for him. And, it was mere hours away. And he used to do such things. He gave messages before.
It was even encouraged, one could say. Julius was with her, and their presence together would cause friction.
But, her expression turned at first blank, then completely troubled, even grave. He saw fear in her eyes.
"No...."
"Queen Ishtar?"
Panic, sheer panic. She held to his wrist, even desperately. He'd seen this look upon her face before, when she'd gotten the horrible news that Melgen had fallen.
"Don't leave me alone! Please don't leave my side! You can't go, not you, Reinhardt. Please, Reinhardt. It's far too cruel. So many times I have said goodbye and those I love never returned. Please...stay beside me. Please don't leave me all alone...I don't know what I'd do if I lost you, too."
Her voice trembled and broke at the last word.
She tensed. He was at a loss for words momentarily.
"Forgive me...I did not mean to cause you any unhappiness. Another can be sent in my stead."
"I know logically that it is peacetime and you will return in some hours, but....the terror it clutches at me. I said goodbye to Ishtore and never thought it would be our last meeting. And the thought of that happening to you haunts me. Terrifies me. You must stay. You are all I have left. I do not know what I would do if you died on me, Reinhardt."
"I will do it, whatever the cost," Reinhardt said.
"I feel safe around you. After the war, there was a creeping horror always. I could lose anyone at any time. Nothing was safe."
She took her hand away shyly, even abashedly.
"Sorry for being a burden."
"You have never been a burden for a moment. You are entirely right; this is my duty. Others can see to this."
He would send someone in his stead, and make sure the few soldiers of Friege knew that his place was at at her side.
*
Friege had not seen much levity in these years. Deep in her mourning, Princess Ishtar had not taken to galas. Even festivals were pushed ahead to other years. Everything had been put to rebuilding, and even now, Friege was not quite to the glory it had been before the war.
But, the day she took off her mourning attire, she began to plan a celebration. What might have started as a grand gala turned to a small gathering at best.
Her stance in the Frigean nobility--what was left of them, that was--was somewhat fragile at the moment. Reinhardt kept quite a few spies particularly upon the remaining families, to ensure there was no looming insurrection on the horizon.
Something had changed in her, he noticed now. Not merely the return from her grief. He had never quite seen her like this. Almost inexplicable.
Amid the planning of the celebrations, a lady had come often to House Friege, and Princess Ishtar's countenance around her was rather strange.
Even more so when the day came, and she stood with wine in her hand--almost desultory as she watched Reinhardt's conversation.
Queen Ishtar was the kindest woman he had ever known, yet even to this lady her smile was strained. Lady Tremaine was rather bold in her search for a second husband, but she was pleasant enough company. Certainly she had a quick riposte, and was well acquainted in many subjects, making her a good partner to converse with.
She did speak to Reinhardt often, and each conversation was rather enjoyable.
But, Queen Ishtar would not leave his side, even when there was more to attend to. In fact, as Lady Tremaine spoke, Princess Ishtar's hand lingered upon his arm, even possessively. Reinhardt looked to his liege, to notice just how tense she was. Did she think Lady Tremaine would try and steal him away to be her knight? The thought was laughable.
There was no other he'd serve but Queen Ishtar.
Yes, Lady Tremaine had some wealth and influence. But, she was not Queen Ishtar, and he was no dastard who could easily be swayed away from his oath of loyalty with a flirtatious glance and a bit of gold.
If Lady Tremaine wished to find herself a knight for her service--or a husband, for that matter--she would have to look elsewhere. He would be in Queen's Ishtar's service, until death did them part.
Not many had come to this gathering. Small steps to begin, he supposed. Still, the finery of the ballroom reminded him of simpler times. Lanterns hung high, the halls aired out and smelling of magic and new pine. The dance floor washed until it shone, and many tables of food and drink to be enjoyed.
Times where he'd watched Ishtar laugh and take such joy in the night, then dance the night away in her lover's arms. All while Reinhardt stood guard.
Once, just once, they had danced.
When Lady Tremaine had gone for refill of her wine, Queen Ishtar stayed near.
She'd donned a new dress for the dance. The skirt was long, made of a filmy, close to sheer material, with a typical Frigean slit. The lacy bodice low enough to be distracting, and her long, lavender hair was swept back with flowers.
And the coloring was mixed between periwinkle blue and white. It brought out all her beauty, surely. Though she'd look beautiful even in the unwashed clothes of a beggar.
"We danced once. Do you remember?" She said softly.
Every moment, every second. It meant so much to him, as precious as his blessed sword. He had poured over that moment many times, even during his darkest moments. When he had lost everything, but his life, his body to the cold earth near the River Thracia.
But all he said was: "Yes."
"I should like to once more. Would you come to the balcony with me?" she said, even shyly. Reinhardt was unaccustomed to awkwardness and shyness between them. Their bond of trust had been absolute for long.
He followed her out into the moonlight.
No violins, no orchestra, nothing but the sounds of night insects and the moon before them. He followed her to there. How rude to leave the crowd, even scandalous, but whatever she asked he would give it. If it was to kill, to raze cities, or to dance in the moonlight. Anything, anything.
He held out his hand; she gladly took it. To the sounds of the night, they danced a waltz so perfect, so symmetrical. The footwork so elegant and unparalleled.
It was rude, terribly rude for the host to spend the entire night dancing with her guard and ignore the other guests. It might be forgiven for newlyweds, so deep in love, but they were not anything but knight and liege.
Even more so to abandon the party altogether, even momentarily for a moonlit dance.
He saw a hint, a glint of the woman she'd once been. So full of joy and gentleness. She smiled so beautifully in his arms as they spun, then danced in the moonlight. On the precipice, the edge. He fell in love with her deeper.
He thought that not possible. He always thought his heart was full to the brim of her. Yet, she always found ways to make him adore her more.
She leaned in, almost enough for their bodies to brush. Her fingers entwined with his. Her lavender hair fell down her shoulders. The moonlight caught her lashes, her skin.
So lovely, lovely.
"I should wish to stay in your arms all night...in a dance."
"If you wish. Though I fear I shall make many enemies, if I take up all your time," Reinhardt said.
And even more rumors if they stayed out late together.
"I wouldn't dance with them, even if they asked. They wouldn't have your superior footwork."
She had been in a state of mourning, thus the marriage proposals had paused. But, a woman such a Queen Ishtar would gain the attention of many. He would have to prepare his heart for the moment when he would have to watch her marry another, for duty or for love, be what it was.
She would never be his.
He would have to remind himself this even more. To draw her near in a dance would be a treasured moment, and nothing more than that. For he would never have another.
He looked down at her rosebud lips and wished to kiss her. The pull was too strong. How he wanted to bend down and feel the warmth of her body against him. Her curves, the softness of her skin. It would be so easy. After years of holding back, it was just the moon and them.
It would be so easyto lift her chin, to kiss her. So easy to lose himself in this moment and give in to the love for her which had been his constant companion for years.
She looked up at him, and in this light she was ethereal, a goddess. There was something in her eyes he couldn't quite discern in the dark. Longing? Not for him. Never for him.
He couldn't. He'd drank a bit of wine and now he was thinking of the impossible.
"We should go back in before we're missed," he said.
He pulled away and let go of her hands. Reinhardt left before she could make a protest, or convince him to stay.
*
She reached out to a glass of wine and trailed her long, graceful fingers across the rim.
Lady Tremaine, and the few others were long gone. Now, maids cleaned up the remnants of the night.
The magic and lanterns had been extinguished. Soon, everyone but the night guards would be asleep.
"Lady Tremaine has her eyes set upon you," she said. And in her voice was something different. A tension. After so many years, he knew her. He noticed every small response, and acting accordingly.
But even him, with all his bond of trust, still unbroken by the war and what she had done, could not quite understand her behavior lately.
"Has she?" he said disinterestedly.
The last thing he wished to speak of was Lady Tremaine. Of course, she was pleasant company and he held her no ill will.
Many did. Reinhardt paid them little heed. Let them think he was wed to duty, for there was no other he'd ever be wed to but her.
Even if she would never want him that way. It mattered not. He'd shoulder the burden and the pain if that was what it took to keep her safe.
"You have not noticed the attention she pays you? You are a clever general and a brilliant mage, but you seem somewhat blind to the ways of love."
He wasn't blind. Simply, he only had eyes for Queen Ishtar. As hopeless as he knew it was, no other had swayed him, even when he tried.
Years ago when she was to be betrothed to Lord Julius, Reinhardt had tried to fill the emptiness, and to find another to fill the utter agony in his heart. He'd tried to move on, only to have those attempts at falling in love with someone other than her fail utterly. He got something of a reputation for it, too--one that remained to this day. Even if he hadn't taken a lover in years.
Reinhardt never wished to leave any heartbroken, so eventually he stopped. No matter how beautiful or compelling the person, they were not Queen Ishtar, and could not replace her within his heart. He accepted his fate, and in his resignation he found new resolve and strength for his duty as a knight.
He had come to the conclusion that none could ever replace her, and to do so would only lead to folly and tears. He would simply live here, by her side as her knight and nothing more.
He could live a life without a love returned. A life of service, where his heart was buried so deep until the feelings were a dull and constant ache to be endured.
"She was to dance with you, but I asked first, and the dance was unending. I made sure of it."
"Then you did me a great favor. If she continues, I shall be forced to find a way to gently reject her," he said.
And the rejections were troublesome. He usually prevented them from happening entirely by burying himself within duty. Making himself so indispensable to Friege that few could find the time to meet him in idle chatter.
But, Lady Tremaine was persistent. he would have to give her that.
She looked up to him--a glance almost hopeful and shy and soft in ways he could not explain. Because there was no shyness between them. Not after these many years together, side by side as knight and liege. Since they were both so young.
"Then she has not caught your eye? She is a land-owner of considerable wealth, especially after being widowed. Her husband was a high-ranking official within the war. Her mourning has just ended, and now she looks to remarry."
"Then I wish her well in her search, but it has nothing to do with me," Reinhardt said.
"I see... Good," she said.
She lifted the wine glass and took a sip. She'd probably regret that in the morning.
"Are you not tired? It is quite late now," Reinhardt said.
"A little, I suppose. My feet are a bit sore."
"Yes, we overdid it. Far too many dances."
"No such thing. I will simply take a bath tomorrow and soak them. Everything will be fine," she said.
"You should've said something. I would've carried you from the dance floor if need be."
She blushed at that. Perhaps he should've used a different turn of phrase.
"I had too much fun, I didn't wish to stop. It's been a while since I've had much joviality."
She let out a soft sigh. Her lavender ponytail swept across her back as she rubbed at her neck in the most delicate way.
"I used to be able to stay up much of the nights in merriment, now I grow more tired once the sun has scarcely set."
"You now have all of the responsibility of Friege upon your shoulders," he gently reminded her.
"Not all. You've always ensured that, Reinhardt. You shoulder every burden you can. I hope you never leave my side, Reinhardt. I shan't know what I should do without you."
"I shall remain in your service until death claims me. Now, I must turn in as well. If anyone sees us alone like this, it could be misconstrued."
"A rumor of us?"
She pushed her lavender colored hair over her shoulder.
"I should rather like to be mistaken for yours. Even better if it was no mistake."
His brow furrowed. What a strange thing to say. Perhaps it was some jape or quote. Ah well, the hour was late and she had felt unwell as of late.
He had to remind himself that he could only come so close. She wasn't his, and never would be.
He could not let himself hope. It would be too painful to have his hopes dashed when it was revealed she meant nothing by it at all, and he had completely misconstrued the situation. It had happened before, that her kindness was simply kindness. His liege was nice, and at the end off his day, she was still merely his liege and nothing more.
Never anything more.
Because even as he came back to her service, he still remembered the deepest cut he'd ever felt. How she had sent him away. Said she didn't need him any longer.
He didn't let himself hope any longer. Not when it came to her. It would be a fool's errand. He wasn't Julius, thus she would never love him. It was as simple as that.
"You should go to bed. You must be very tired," he said.
"You're always so protective," she said.
"It is my calling, my duty, and my pleasure to do so," he said.
She yawned. "I shall, then. I shan't wish to worry you. Good night, Reinhardt. I hope you have sweet dreams."
"Yes, you as well," Reinhardt echoed.
She left down the hall as the gathering wore down. The moon was high in the sky now, full and golden to ripple in the pool below the balcony.
Reinhardt stayed up a while longer. he sipped at his wine. His mind wished to go over those words. They'd sound almost...flirtatious?
But, it could not be. Queen Ishtar did not love him. In all these years, she had never loved him and only loved Julius. He'd accepted this, accepted that these feelings would leave his life always a bit bittersweet. That he would stay by her even as she married another. Even as it felt like the ache would tear him apart, even as she looked up in love and adoration to her future spouse.
She must've had too much wine and said something imprudent that she would forget by morning. Never mind that her words didn't slur or stammer, not even a little.
The wine made him melancholy and a bit sleepy. He looked up at the moon in its peerless beauty.
Queen Ishtar was far more beautiful, by far. But he had no right to the words, now did he? No right to even think such things.
The momentary pleasure of basking in his love for her would always turn bittersweet when he remembered, he realized that there would be nothing more than a dream, a fantasy.
He didn't dream any longer. He finished the glass and headed to his chambers.
*
He was no stranger to his lady's favor. She had bestowed a sword to him once, the finest sword he had ever wielded. But, now, near daily he was graced with signs of her appreciation. She made a new title for him: Queensguard. Little changed in his daily duties, more prestige was bestowed upon him. He was even deeded some more land for the Schutaeze estate his parents lived upon. She'd even managed to track down fine Isaachean horses with coats that looked like spun gold as a gift for his father, who had retired from his service to breed horses.
Reinhardt was not a commoner; his father and mother had been from minor noble families with few land titles, and had earned even more peerage with their service to Friege's military. Even now, there were hushed and even awed whispers of the family Schutaeze. Lady Audra, his mother, and her peerless control of magic. And Sir Richard, the finest and most loyal knight in the land of his era. Only Lady Audra's stubbornness had kept him from dying on the battlefield.
His parents had always adored her, and now even more as she bestowed favor upon every single member of the family Schutaeze. Almost to a degree to potentially cause strife in other knights.
"Come, dine with me," Queen Ishtar said.
More and more, she was pulling him away for private dinners. While he enjoyed her presence, he was well aware that rumors could spread should they be seen going off alone together too many times.
Once would be dismissed as simply official business. But, constantly? Rumors would abound that he visited her bedchambers before long, and he couldn't have her reputation besmirched.
The tablecloth was pristine. The room had a faint scent of rust, though he couldn't tell where. It must've been a room for meetings at some point. Old weapons and tapestries lined the walls.
"Your mother told me how you liked these," she said.
Upon the table was a plate of small cookies. He recognized the scent immediately.
"You've been in contact with her?"
"Of course," Ishtar said.
"I would remember them from them, regardless. Of course, I did not have the recipe," Ishtar said.
"I haven't these for some time. They're a specialty of the Zwei region."
They were small cookies, filled with honey and pieces of cut apples. The flour was thick brown sort. The capital preferred the more refined flour, but this particular came from Silesse. It gave the cookies an almost earthy taste to go with the slight sweetness.
"I remember eating them together when we were children, and I visited the summer manor in the Zwei region. Every summer we'd go there. And you'd visit your family. Little Olwen would follow us everywhere. She utterly adored you. She was such a sweet girl. We'd ride into the orchards and pick fresh apples. Once, I accidentally disturbed a wasp's nest and you pulled me back and took every sting. You were covered in red welts for days, but you never cried or ever complained."
"Do you remember, Reinhardt?"
"Of course. They are some of my most treasured memories," Reinhardt said.
"You were only a few years older than I, but you were so strong. I never feared anything. We could explore to our heart's content any wood or thicket or cave, for nothing could stand before you and not fall to your powers. I always felt safe with you around. Few could even begin to match you, let alone challenge you."
"I still do," she said softly.
"I miss when the biggest problem in my life was that I might get stung by a wasp, or get a stomachache from eating too much. When I could be assured that I would see Ishtore again once it was over. It was always such grand fun. I cannot find that innocence any longer. My hands are too bloodstained," she said.
He took a bite of the sweet cookie and remembered. Curled up in the orchards, Olwen at his side, and his liege beside him.
"Thank you."
"I'm grateful for your favor, truly. You are the kindest liege a knight could ever ask for. But, are you worried? No one will ever steal me from your service. By your side is where I belong."
She glanced down, in a new form of shyness which he kept seeing within her. Something which made no sense from how many years they'd known each other and known absolute trust.
"Ah, I should've known you would realize. You always knew me best. It is true, I still feel a little out of sorts when Lady Tremaine comes and has her eye upon you, to take you away from me."
"Don't. She has no sway over me. She could name any sum and I would not take it to be in her service," Reinhardt said.
She lifted her gaze. Her eyes were stunningly, even hauntingly beautiful.
"But, you've done so much for me. I should hope to repay it. And...to make you happy. Are you happy, Reinhardt?"
Worry filled her face.
"I am here, by your side. Reminiscing of times, eating my favorite cookies which you have some magnanimously provided me. It is a good day."
Except, be there was bittersweet. But, he would endure this pain as he did. It did not kill him. It was far more painful to be parted.
"It was good to remember such wondrous times."
"It can be good again. I know there will always be the pain of those we lost within the war, but we can rebuild."
"...Even when I feel hopeless, you help me find it again. I am truly grateful to you, Reinhardt."
And they sat down for tea and cookies and memories. Temporarily, all sadness was set aside.
It would return. It always did.
*
Weeks passed and her mood was still fragile and strange. After a day of official business, he was just about to turn in. She caught his arm, and held tight.
"Reinhardt, come with me," she said.
He took his leave, and followed her. She lead him down the hall--and to her chambers. He was well aware that other soldiers had seen. Soldiers that would gladly gossip with their fellow comrades and lovers. Before the night was done, half the country would know that he had been invited quite blatantly to her chambers.
It could be...misconstrued, if they were seen together like this.
As her knight, he had at times been there, but scarcely without a chaperone. At times, to carry her back to bed when she'd drank too much. She could indulge a bit during dinner parties, especially if the wine was to her taste.
Still, perhaps she needed some help. He would be just a moment.
The room in its luxuries was little more than shadows in the dark. She didn't even light a candle, though with her precision and mastery in magic, she easily could've, even from a distance. Moonlight shone through the windows, over her back. Her hair was caught in the light, like a halo.
She truly lived to her nickname of The Goddess of Thunder.
She came closer, closer. He tensed as he felt the pressure of her hand upon his chest. He looked down, scarcely able to believe that she had touched him there.
Perhaps it was simply to steady herself?
"Reinhardt...." She said softly. And the way she said his name changed. Like it was an endearment.
He'd noticed this, in the past two years. The emphasis, the breath as she spoke his name. He ignored it, knowing nothing would come of it. For it never did.
After years of burying his feelings, and denying any hope, he had no forewarning for the feel of her lips soft against his as she held tight to his black and gold coat.
She had to stand on her tip-toes to reach him.
He was being--kissed? By Queen Ishtar? Had he walked into some beautiful dream of what never could be?
Something within him broke. The walls he had put up to protect his heart and keep him focused upon his duty, even as he loved her. He pulled her in an embrace, and deepened the kiss, even crushed their lips together.
Reinhardt pulled away. Here he was, in his lady's chambers, kissing her. As if he had any right to love her, to want her.
"...I should go. I do not wish to besmirch your reputation. Surely some saw me come to your chambers. If I stay long, then rumors were come."
"Let them. In fact, I welcome them," she said.
"Come to the chaise with me. I feel as if my knees will buckle after a kiss such as that."
"Is that so? Then let me take you."
He lifted her up effortlessly. Called a bridal carry, her clutched tight and precious to his chest. She let out a soft noise in her surprise, and held tighter to him.
He set her down gently on the chaise.
"Must I leave your arms?"
"I'll stay close," he said.
"Then I'll come even closer," she said.
Her hand upon his chest again. She could feel his beating heart.
"I have been all but throwing myself at you. I could not be more blatant. I was at my wit's ends, and feared you did not feel the same, but I thought one last try. My final stand. I couldn't simply give up upon you so easily."
She leaned in to kiss up his jaw. He scarcely dared touch her, or believe this could be real. Her lips were so soft and warm upon him.
"I awoke from my grief to find you still beside me. And like spring coming after winter, I began to realize I wished you by me forever. Not merely as my knight and longer," she said.
Her hands lingered at his chin, cupping his face with such adoration and dearness.
"What I wish...is for everyone to know you belong in my chambers, that it would be where to find you. No, I wish them to be our chambers. Not simply as a lover. The one I wake up with every day and go to bed with every night. The father of my children, the one to rule Friege with me."
She looked up at him through her lashes.
"Am I too bold and soon to say I wish to wed you? I have tried being subtle. It hasn't worked. I have flirted with you boldly, I said I wished to be seen as yours, and got nothing more than a furrowed brow. I knew you a stoic, but I didn't expect it to this extent when it comes to love. I said I wished to be seen as yours, and got nothing more than a furrowed brow. Perhaps I am untalented at such things," she said.
"No...I thought you had simply drank too much and pushed it aside," Reinhardt said.
"Despite that, I was still quite sober. I hadn't enough to make me lose control," she said.
Her hands fell to her sides. Her sorrow was infinite, and unfathomable in that moment.
"...I wanted nothing more than to be yours, for so long. But, I could not. You loved another. I buried my feeling deep inside, like I was digging my own grave. I grew used to never letting myself have a moment's hope. You were kind, I would remind myself. It meant nothing. Even to words like this...I couldn't believe such adoration would ever be for me," Reinhardt said. Emotion turned his voice raspy, hoarse.
"But it meant so much to me. You saved me. You helped me see the world as beautiful again. Little by little, I fell in love with you. I am surprised it did not happen sooner. Perhaps I did and I never saw the signs."
He took her hand in his. The most he could do as his heart hammered in his chest.
"Yet...I was so near and yet I could not reach you. Every single day you would be beside me but not mine. The thought of someone else taking you from me kept me up at night. It was wonderful to be close to you, yet so painful that you weren't mine," she said.
And it echoed everything he'd felt for years. Every ache she had felt as well. What strange ways fate had.
"What you have said...it is how I have felt for years, years. And, Queen Ishtar, you are wrong. I was yours. I have been for so long."
"So long? Even then?"
He nodded.
"I've hurt you gravely. Please, allow me to make up for this with the rest of my life."
"No...you have nothing to make up for. I would've shouldered far heavier burdens for you, without ever saying a word."
"Still, you're holding back."
She pressed her fingers to his lips, exploring him.
"Old habits, I'm afraid."
"How many kisses will it take to release them?"
"We shall see," he said.
"If I asked you, even pleaded for you to kiss me, would you?"
"You needn't beg," he said, his voice raspy.
He pushed her down gently to the chaise and kissed her more, deeper.
"Stay with me."
"I'd stay with you even if you sent me away, even in death, Queen Ishtar."
"Good. I shall hope neither will come to pass ever again."
"And I," he said.
*
Epilogue:
Reinhardt and Ishtar married so soon as to be almost scandalous, until rumors expected a child born months after. Their first child was born a year later, a son named after Reinhardt's father, Sir Richard. A daughter named Isadora was born the year after.
Olwen attended the birth and wedding, though their relations were still strained. It took many years to rebuilt their sibling relationship, just as it took many years to rebuild Friege itself.
Ishtar and Reinhardt returned to the Zwei region of Friege, his homeland many times. And by all accounts, they returned Friege into a state of glory it had not known for many years.
No longer was Friege torn by political upheaval and traitorous plots, but a time of greatly deserved peace came across the land.
Under her rule, Friege became known as a land of scholars and mages. The army was rebuilt, but no longer was Friege to be the lapdog of an empire, with bloodied hands. Like Reinhardt himself, the army of Friege was firm but a strong protector of the land.
While she had suffered much in her life, Ishtar found joy in her devoted husband and children. Ishtar and her consort, Reinhardt, were well loved and considered the greatest rulers of Friege since Thrud himself.
