fic: O, Death

[bonnefois]

Title: O, Death
Series: FE4/5 Jugdral
Character/pairing: Reinhardt/Ishtar (Unrequited)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Ishtar receives news that the Gelben Ritter was defeated, and that her knight has died in battle.
Word count: 4,169
Author's note:

Mild divergent AU, but only slightly in timeline with certain things being compressed.

Spoilers, deals with canon stuff of FE4 such as TW suicide idealation, canonical character death and semi canonical death.

While Reinhardt is usually referred to as the General of the Gelben Ritter, Thracia actually refers to Ishtar as being the leader of it, with Reinhardt having a General/secondary leader position. Unless it's a translation error. {shrugs} you never know with the Jugdral games.

The fact that Ishtar was involved vocally with the anti hunt movement was revealed in Thracia 776 early on. Thracia was very interesting for her arc and characterization.

Julius is very corrupted/possessed by Loptous here and toxic af just warning.




The Liberation Army was mere days away. Julius had brought the utmost of guards here to defend him as his plans went on. She was at the ballasts, the wind at her face. She looked on to the upcoming battle with unspoken dread and grimness.

More would fall. More losses of life. No matter what happened, it would be inevitable. More of Friege to be lost in the battle.

Soon, soon this would be over. And what then? Julius would win, and what of the world? Or Julius would lose, and then what of them?

And Reinhardt, he must be to Friege by now. At least he would be there to keep Friege safe. She had at least that. Her one, small comfort in this all. Friege would be unassailable. And whatever happened, she could return home, and to her most trusted knight.

A guard came, scuffed and dusty from travel. He hailed her with a bow. She acknowledged him with a nod.

"I bring news from the front," he said.

He drew a breath before he continued.

"The Gelben Ritter has fallen."

A flinch, but that was the only lose of composure. The Gelben Ritter had been the finest in battalions, and hers to lead. She'd let them down in the end, just as she'd let Reinhardt down.

"I see...it would be a heavy blow for Reinhardt to lose his entire battalion."

He would've returned to Friege by now, as she had ordered. Had the news come to him already? She knew that finding out his sister had defected had affected him deeply. To lose his soldiers would be an even harsher turn of events for him.

"All of them, My lady."

She did not comprehend the words immediately. She felt dizzy, as wild desperation and denial set in.

"What...do you mean? Reinhardt returned to Friege. He'd never defy my orders," she said desperately.

Even when she betrayed him and abandoned him, Reinhardt was always loyal. He was always the one to count on. He was her rock, her right hand man. Even when she wasn't the paramount of a lady, he was the paramount of a knighthood and all it entailed.

"My lady...General Reinhardt was among the fallen."

She drew back. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. Reinhardt couldn't fall in battle. He held power near a god. Let alone to mere children and a ragtag group of orphans.

"W-What? R-Reinhardt? No...that's impossible. Not him...He could never be so easily defeated. Surely you are mistaken. You must check again. Please...check again. Please..."

She felt as if she could crumble into herself. In her mind the denial rose. It was a mistake, a mistake. Impossible, not Reinhardt, never Reinhardt.

No one could ever defeat Reinhardt. He was the strongest knight that had ever come from Friege, a man known as the second coming of Thrud. And he had been her champion, her protector and closest ally for most of her life.

And now he was...gone? No, there must be some mistake. There had to be some mistake.

"Please...." Her voice cracked, hoarse and dry. "Please tell me there is some mistake..."

"My lady... The bodies were cleared from the River Thracia. There were no survivors. His body has been sent back to the Schutaeze estate to be buried. His sister still is among the Liberation Army, at last report. A shame, for the Schutaeze family to lose both their children, and for Friege to lose such a knight as him."

Reeling. Nausea rising. She'd tried to save him, but she'd sent him to his death instead. She covered her mouth with her gloved hand.

She tensed. She couldn't break down, she couldn't break down. She couldn't even publicly mourn when Ishtore died, not as a lady of Friege. Not when father demanded revenge. Or when father, or now mother. She covered her mouth with her hand. Out came a muffled. "I see..."

She couldn't even bring herself to dimiss the page.

How much loss could she take? Father, Ishtore, Liza, and now Reinhardt.

She always thought she would have Reinhardt. Not even thse children of the Liberation Army could defeat one such of him. But, she'd been wrong. So wrong. Even her beloved protector had been stolen by death in the end.

She had to stay strong. No matter how much she wanted to close herself in her room and weep until she could barely breathe. She had to be strong and avenge them. She was of House Friege. Ishtar couldn't afford to be weak.
'
Now she was the last remaining one of her family. She closed her eyes tight.

Not even Reinhardt. Were the gods so cruel they would take from her everything, ever her guard? Her very knight? Would they leave her nothing left in this damnable war?

Would the gods raze Friege to ashes? Or would they turn aside their head as the Liberation Army did it for them?

Another page came up, disturbing her in her grief.

"Lord Julius wishes to see you."

She was in no state to see her lover. But, when Julius gave an order, it was obeyed. Everyone knew this.

*

She answered his summons. Julius sipped at his wine. He was in excellent spirits today. The room around them was the red of Velthomer, the red of royalty. Julius sat upon the throne. He couldn't stop smiling, and his smile was so very cruel.

When she looked at him, there was a disconnect. The man she loved would've never smirked in such a way. He'd been gentle, kind. The man she loved was before her, supposedly. Even though she had never felt more alone, even in the presence of her lover.

"What wonderful news. For once, the Liberation Army is my ally. I only regret that I couldn't do it myself."

"Lord Julius..."

Her hand trembled, she forced herself to steady, to stop. None were better than Julius than spotting weakness. Because she knew the words he was to say, even before he said them.

Nothing pleased Julius more than death. At least, this Julius. The one she didn't recognize, but held the face of the man she loved. Or once loved.

"We are better off without him, Ishtar. He was a wolf set to guard a lamb. In time you'll come to see my wisdom. Come, we'll feast."

"I don't have much of an appetite," she said flatly.

"Don't sulk. I've prepared your favorites. It is a joyous day indeed."

"Not for me. They were my countrymen."

And her knight, her closest ally and even friend. Reinhardt had protected her, and she had relied on him. Even now, she wanted nothing more than to reach out and be comforted by his calmness, his steadiness.

Now she would never hear his voice again. Just as she would never hear her brother's.

"And he was my enemy. I rejoice when my enemies fall."

"I don't," she said softly.

There was a sharpness in his voice. Reminding her that she'd chosen Julius in that moment. That there was no way to turn back time and make another choice.

That Reinhardt was dead, no matter what she had done to save him.

And she went along. Because that's what she did. She gave in when Julius asked. She sipped at her wine, and wished to be alone. Julius was downright gleeful at the news of Reinhardt's death.

A tiny betrayal. That her lover's gleefulness in death left her troubled, left her looking to doors and windows for escape.

If but she could fly away...

Around them were Manfroy and other cultists of the Loptyrian order. Julius knew she detested their company, but it didn't matter. Not to him. Not anymore.

All she wanted to be was alone in her chambers. Alone to mourn. She couldn't even have that.

*

In the dark, she stole away. As she had so many times. Julius was often busy with Manfroy, in plots which would surely spill more blood.

Once, she'd inserted herself into these meetings. Tried to push Manfroy away from Julius as much as possible. Now, she spent the moments alone betraying Julius in one way or another.

Mother would be furious if she knew. If she still lived. But Ishtar was all alone now. Not even Reinhardt remained.

To free the children, her one secret. Today, it was a different betrayal. A warp to Friege, where the familiarity left her with a horrible ache. As she remembered better, happier days when her loved ones were still with her.

Down the stone halls, to a room that adjoined hers. Julius never liked that, even before.

When she'd recognized him, loved him.

This time, she turned the key into Reinhardt's chambers. It was perfectly clean, and to little surprise. Reinhardt was meticulous about such things. He did not have many decorations. A tapestry of the Frigean emblem, and another of Schutaeze history long past.

There was no one else to collect Reinhardt's effects. His parents had died during the war, Olwen had defected to the other side. Not that he had much left to send back. His room had little decoration, and most of his effects were packed away.

This was all that was left to her. A heaviness welled up in her chest. She'd never hear his voice again, never be comforted and protected by him. Never feel the sureness that being around him left her with. No one could ever hurt her, not with Reinhardt at her guard.

His bed was made, and slightly dusty from how long since he'd been here. A wardrobe of clothes at the side, a bookcase of tomes and books of history, and a weapon rack beside it. Several swords and tomes were missing, and had been taken to battle with him.

She found a chest at the end of his bed. She tried to lift it, only to find it locked. Had he the key upon him when he left?

She lit the hearth with magic, with a tome left behind. From the hearth, she lit a candle and began to search for the last traces of him.

Feeling a chill, she went to the wardrobe and pulled on his dark waistcoat over her shoulders. It was too clean, and didn't have his earthy scent.

She had relied on him daily. He'd been such a part of her life for so many years. So very important that words failed to describe what he was to her. And the loss of him....it was like a chasm opened up inside her life.

Where would he have hidden the key? She could force the lock open, but he might have some kind of magic barrier or lock to block intruders, if it was that important to him.

Not in the wardrobe, none of the pockets, not beneath the mattress, nor beneath the cistern usually filled with water for refreshment. She was just about to give up when she looked beneath the bed. Only with candlelight did she manage to see the slight seam built into the bed frame. It was pushed up so close to the chest that it was easy to miss. She pushed at it, and found a small golden key.

He'd hidden it well.

Inside was a sheath, though empty. She knew this sheath. It'd held the sword she'd bestowed upon him. He must've taken it with him.

Which meant the Liberation Army had likely looted his dead body. Taken the gifts she had given him. The thought of them taking the sword she had given him and and using it made her have to bit her lip to keep back a sob.

Even this was taken from her. Even this.

Bundled together were papers. Letters, she saw as she undid the twine that bound them. In the firelight, she began to read the last words of Reinhardt she would ever have.

Beloved one, you are so near to me, I long to kiss you. My goddess, I want nothing more than you, entirely. I dream of a day when we can be together, as impossible as it may seem. I cannot give up on you....Your beauty and grace thrills me, captivates me in every way. No other woman shall ever compare to you...my goddess.

She turned to another one.

My beloved, the storm today made me think of you. It's power, grace, beauty...so like you. I have never known another like you. I am grateful to even have known you....I am grateful we lived in the same era, that I could be by your side now....

My goddess, we danced together today. I shall treasure this moment all my life. It meant so much to me. I wish you knew how much this gesture was. How I wish you could be in my arms again...

There were so many letters. He'd been quite prolific in his writings about his beloved.

She hadn't even known that Reinhardt had a lover. He'd been so discreet, she'd never even suspected. And he'd held this love affair for so many years, too.

She felt sadness renewed in her. There was still so much she'd never known about her knight. And now, she'd never learn it.

His lover, if she still lived, must be mourning him too. She would have to send these letters to her.

But the thought of losing this, the last part of him, made her tense. She held the letters to her chest as if someone had tried to rip them from her grasp.

Perhaps..she could keep them for a little longer. She didn't know the identity of his love, anyways.

To have something to remember him by. For such a professional, stoic man, he was quite poetic and passionate. She'd never even suspected he could have a side like this.

She crawled up onto bed and kept reading letter after letter. When she came to the last one, and she truly had nothing left of him, hot tears slid down her face.

"Reinhardt...I'm so sorry. I never thought..." A sob caught in her throat. "I never thought I'd lose you like this. I thought you would be safe from Julius back at Friege. I thought..."

She thought that she could save him? Could she save anything of her family, of Friege, of herself at this rate? She wasn't sure any longer. If even Reinhardt could fall, then House Friege had truly been left in shambles.

What would Thrud think of her, one of the last of the illustrious house he had founded?

Nothing good, probably.

Reinhardt was said to be the second coming of Thrud, but not even he could survive this horrible war.

It was merely her training, and the way she must be as woman of Friege that she hadn't broken down completely. How much anguish could one person take and not be entirely destroyed?

How much must she give in the end? Would she have to sacrifice herself bit by bit in this war, and become a broken husk? Or would she join the rest of House Friege on the other side, and finally know peace?

She would forget, momentarily. The wound of Ishtore, father and mother dying was still quite raw, but Reinhardt--she would forget. She would turn back and think to ask him. A steady, strong and comforting presence. Now, he would never be there. She would have to face every day of her life alone and far from him.

In just a short while, all her loved ones were dead. In death, would she meet them again? The thought came to her more and more now.

She drifted off, and clutched tight to the last of him.

*

"There you are. I've been looking all over for you."

She sat up groggily. The waistcoat slipped down her shoulders. The hearth was mere embers now, and in this low light, Julius's face was in shadows. He looked unsettling, a creature of nightmares.

Not something to think of her beloved, and yet there it was. The thought shook free from sleep that Julius looked a horror in this light. Red eyes full of wrath, and no longer in good spirits.

And she reminded herself that this was the man she loved. Even when he was rough, even when he was angry. She had chosen him. And now there was no path to return to what had once been. No other choice to be made.

Julius's eyes narrowed.

"I-I got cold."

"Let me see that."

He pulled the letters free from her hands before she could hide them from sight.

Julius's face twisted as he read them. Dark flames sprung from his fingers with hardly a chant. Julius was always quite skilled in magic. The hearth fire sprung up again, and Julius gladly, gleefully fed it the letter. The paper curled and turned black. She reached out, unable to save even this of Reinhardt's legacy. Just as she couldn't save him in the end.

"D-Don't! Please, Julius. It's all I have left."

"All you have left?" Julius's voice was sharp. A quick judgment. He already suspected something between her and Reinhardt, no matter how many times she had tried to convince him otherwise.

To tell him that neither Reinhardt nor she were in love did nothing. His jealousy had become unstable, unhinged and fierce.

"They....should be returned to his lover," she amended quickly.

His smile was so condescending and cold.

"Oh, Ishtar. You are little more than a little innocent lamb, unaware of the wolf beside you. Can you not see that Reinhardt is still driving a wedge between us?"

"He's dead, Julius," she said. Her voice was devoid of all emotion. "He can't do anything anymore."

"And here he is, still between us even in death. Can you not see? It is as if his ghost is in the very room now."

"I wish he would haunt me," she said softly.

His expression was a snarl. He bit it back, and continued speaking.

"These letters are clearly unsent. It is obvious who they are for. They aren't even subtle. 'My goddess?' 'I saw the storm and thought of you?' No knight should think of his liege like this. This is a testament to the rot in Friege. What fools, to allow him anywhere near you."

"He..."

"Loved you, like the fool he was."

A letter to the fire. She watched it burn. Perhaps she truly was the fool in all of this.

"Loved and coveted what wasn't his and would never would be his."

Another letter burnt.

"Went to his grave with such vile affections for his liege."

One by one, he threw every single letter into the fire. And that wasn't enough. He ripped the waistcoat from her shoulders, and fed the flames with that, too. The hearth fire became massive, fed by his own fell magic.

Each time, she thought she couldn't hurt any more. But, now she felt the wound reopening of losing Reinhardt all over again. By her lover, who demanded she rejoice in the death of one who had a closer bond of trust to her than any other. Perhaps even Julius himself.

And she knew it was love, in all its monstrous and gruesome forms that caused Julius to lash out like this. It wasn't a comfort, to see the fire in his eyes, as he destroyed the last of her memories of her knight. To know that he held on closer to her because he loved her.

It wasn't a comfort at all.

She couldn't defend Reinhardt in the end. And she could only step aside as Julius made the room an inferno of dark magic. As he destroyed every last trace of Reinhardt, so she had no solace at all.

When Julius was angry, something was always destroyed. Usually, it was a life. An innocent. But just as often, he'd destroy things. Every portrait of Reinhardt had been destroyed long before he was gone.

There was nothing left but memories.

*

She slept, though fitful and filled with nightmares. She saw her brother, skeletial and his corpse bride, Liza, never to be married in life. She saw her mother, who even in death disapproved of these little betrayals. In how she found it harder and harder to love Julius.

And in the moonlight, surrounded on a starry night, she saw him. He stared up at the skies.

"Reinhardt!"

He turned back. Pale, and barely visible.

"I can't stay long."

He had a glow to him, and not merely the moonlit night.

"I'm so sorry. Please, Reinhardt...Please stay. Please. I need you so much. Please..."

"I wish I could," Reinhardt said.

Even now she didn't know how to categorize Reinhardt in her life. He was her bodyguard, her second in command, her shadow, her protector, her knight, her friend. No single word fit him, because he fit to her life so much.

But he hadn't been her lover in the end. And now, she knew it'd hurt him deeply. It must've been so painful to be by her side when he loved her so much. He'd never said a word, never even hinted at his feelings. But somehow, Julius had known.

And the knowledge now, that he had loved her for so long. Written to her such passionate love letters all along. She couldn't discern how she felt past the numbness, the overwhelming numbness and grief of the loss of her loved ones.

What was he to her? Her knight, in the end.

"I never hated you. Please don't ever think that. I'm sorry I couldn't continue to serve you...to protect you. I'm sorry I failed you in the end."

"You never failed me, not even once! Reinhardt, please don't leave me! What...what will I do without you? Every day I look back and realize you aren't there and I..."

She felt empty. She felt the overwhelming sense of the loss of him, in words she could not name. He wasn't her lover, he was her knight. But she mourned him like a lover.

And what a final betrayal. She hadn't known how much it would hurt him, how it would seal his fate and send him to his death.

(And what would it change? Except for her to say I'm sorry as she returned to Julius's side. There was a reason he never spoke up.)

"I'm sorry. I can't stay any longer."

She reached out for him, only to have him disappear in the starlight, fading into light.

She woke up in an empty room. The dream had been so realistic, the last goodbye to Reinhardt. Born of magic or grief, she did not know. She was glad to be alone, for once. She buried her face in her hands, and shuddered as the tears came again. Her family was dead. Reinhardt Schutaeze was dead. And now, there was nothing left for her.

*

Numbness. Nothingness. Each movement made her ache. Her head spun, over and over. Days passed and she slipped further and further and closer to the endless night she so craved.

The thought wouldn't go away. How easy it would be to escape this overwhelming pain. To see her loved ones again. All she had to do was die. Dying was such a simple thing. People died of illnesses, of drowning, of starvation and injuries. Some went to sleep and never woke.

And how easy it would be, to fall in battle. To join Ishtore, father, mother, and Reinhardt where they were. If she could reach them, whatever land it was, she would do it.

The pain couldn't be worse than what she felt now.

The path she'd taken was too filled with thorns, with pain. The things she did for love weighed her down like a millstone.

She'd tossed her morals away for love. She'd given up on the campaign against the hunts she and Ishtore had founded, that she had tried to drag Julius into, even as he lied to her. Even as her conscience ate her soul raw. Even as she lived....

And that love...it did not make it worth it. Not when she could not recognize her lover, even when he wore the face of the man she loved...once loved.

Her love for Julius, or what was left of it could not keep her in this realm any longer. Not when even she knew at some level that she could not bring back the man she loved from whatever descent had begun. That she had always known, but had clung to the ideal that perhaps, love did conquer all.

Perhaps Julius, too would be there with her family on the other side. The true Julius, not the one before her which was not the man she had loved.

She was a woman of Friege. Her death would have to befitting the country. She would die on the battlefield, as she avenged her family. So she thought decided.

I'll see you soon.

To Ishtore, to Liza, to mother and father, and now Reinhardt. A veil separated them, but she would lift it. And she would find them. It was her time.