fic: Through Thick and Thin
Jan. 9th, 2024 02:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: Through Thick and Thin
Series: Fire Emblem: Jugdral
Character/pairing: ReinIsh
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1655
Summary: Years later, she reminisces as she searches for a bauble. About the lost youth, the pain, and what she once was.
Author's note:
Post series by a lot. AU in that some characters did not die and managed to live.
BTW I totally love that Kaga was so insistent that Sigurd and Deirdre and Rein/Ish got to have happy endings and live! Love that part of Jugdral. the one where Sigurd and Deirdre and Rein/Ish just were happy. And married. Forever.
That part of 4/5 was amazing. The happy endings part.
WOO REARMED REINHARDT MADE ME DRAG THIS OUT AND FINISH IT!
She hadn't been in this wing of the castle in quite a while. The chaises and furniture were covered in white sheets and dust, like ghosts. The doors had been shut, locked, as if to keep something out--or in, as it was.
This was where it had ended up. Even after the war, when Friege desperately needed funds, she couldn't bring herself to sell these mementos. Yet, she couldn't bear to look at them, either. So in old chests they were pushed, to slowly turn musty and old, brittle like bones and hidden away.
But, she had promised Tine that she would try and find any mementos of her mother, and what was owed her. So, she braved these memories, this graveyard. There was Ishtore's broach of gold, used to secure his cloak. It had been pulled off his body, with the intention of cleaning the blood off it before his burial.
She lifted the dress against her body, and the jewelry with it.
This dress had been a gift to her from Julius himself. Once, she'd been slim enough for it to fit. Now, as she held it to her, she saw her hips far too wide, and the face that looked back at her in the mirror lined with age and sorrow.
It was so bittersweet to hear those words. Once, she'd been so beautiful. Endless tragedies, two children, twenty years, all of them had taken away her beauty, bit by bit.
She was not quite as slim as she once was. Thicker hips, behind, and chest, to say nothing of her waist. She'd never quite lost the weight after the last child, which had been a difficult pregnancy and even more difficult birth.
But, that could be overlooked. It was her haunted expression, that lingered with her even after all these years that truly damned her. The guilt, the memories. She could hardly even smile at gatherings. Even more if she was separated from her husband in them.
Was it vanity, then? Or loss?
She remembered being that girl. One who looked forward to dances and gathering and new dresses. Who tried to include her cousin. Foolishly innocent and idealistic. That innocence stripped away by the horrors of the Loptyrian empire--and her once lover.
Her hands went over the rough material. Time had worn away some of the fabric. Moths, had taken even more. The cloak was pitted with bites of mice, who had used it for nests.
A soft sigh.
Behind her, a voice. She turned her head, to see an edge of black, peerless waistcoat. The door closed.
"My love...there you are. I thought you should not face these ghosts alone."
"Ah, Reinhardt."
She smiled. When he was around, her sorrowful expression managed to disappear. Albeit briefly.
The dress had grown brittle, though it still held some beauty, past the bloodstains. She should've simply cast it aside, burnt it. But, she'd been so distraught after those days, and past the war, losing her family, and Julius's death.
She'd intended to die, to drown in her guilt and sorrows, but had not. Reinhardt would not let her in the end. He'd stayed behind her, even when Friege had fallen to lows even worse than the end of Duke Reptor's rule.
And so, they'd been put away. All of it. Even what shouldn't have been.
"Just, reminiscing. Back before the war, to when I could fit in this."
Before she'd lost her family, and so much of Friege. Before the death, the return of the hunts, and how bloodstained her House had become.
And back when she'd been so young, so innocent, and so much more lissome back then. She'd had such titles put upon her. The most beautiful of a generation. The most eligible of any House. And it hadn't mattered to her, for back then, she'd thought she'd already found her love. It only mattered that the one she loved thought so.
She hadn't even thought of it, treasured it. The beauty that so many had defined her by. And now, years later, it was all but withered away. Only then did she realized she missed it. The youth and beauty that years and sorrows had taken away from her.
"Something troubles you. Did you have nightmares again?"
"Not this time," she said.
She knew he would not stop at that, so she said the words she had kept inside.
"They say it sometimes. In hushed voices. 'She used to be so beautiful.' Those thorns, they are stuck in me at times."
"None should ever say that in my presence, if they wish to live. For you are beautiful still. Completely, in every way."
"My love, you were beautiful then, but you are perhaps even more beautiful now. When I look at you, I see the mother of my children. I see a woman who survived such struggles with grace and regality. Yes, you made mistakes; we all did during the war. But you lived, my dear."
He lifted up her chin with his gloved had. Aging had been gentle to Reinhardt. The graying at his temples made him look distinguished. He'd kept to his training. And she'd heard plenty a hushed whisper, that if Reinhardt ever outlived her, many would strive to take her place as his wife. For he'd proven himself quite the knight, consort, husband and father.
Not that she'd ever doubt him.
"I would say this at twenty, at forty, at sixty and eighty. You are so beautiful to me, my love. And age will not steal that away from me. Nothing will."
He drew her into his arms. She rested her head against his firm chest as he ran his fingers through her hair. Paler now with age.
"You are silver-tongued, dear," she said.
"I am truthful. I think whomever said such things vile, and frankly liars filled with some sort of jealousy."
Then again, Reinhardt did always think everything about her perfect and beautiful. Even when she faltered. Even when she made horrible, unforgivable mistakes, Reinhardt forgave her them all.
It just took her almost losing everything to realize what had been there all along.
"Much of this should be burned. Sold. Melted into new coins to help the populace, though I couldn't bear it. I couldn't bear to let go, even to the painful memories."
There were even mementos of Julius in here. The mere sight of them would set her guilt and sorrow alight. The circlet he'd bought to distract her as she went to Miletos to join the hunts, and turn her back on the work that she and Ishtore had once done.
"My love, you had to let go of so much in life. Keep these if you must."
Her hand closed over the broach tightly, until she could feel it dig into her palm.
"I'll keep this, but burn the dress. As a penance, for the person I was when I wore it."
"You have given so much to the families. You were the staunchest advocate for so long. Few have fought harder than you after the war. I would have to carry you off to bed so you would even think of resting, for you would soldier on for the next decree to help the war orphans and families that had been so wounded by the Loyptyrians hunts."
"It was the least I could do, considering....how I strayed from the path."
He had never spoken ill of her, when she had followed her heart--followed Julius--madly, wildly into darkness. Once, she'd been the staunchest advocate against the hunts, alongside Ishtore. Once, she'd even challenged Lord Julius himself on that front.
He did not mention her falter, when she was lead down a path of darkness following after Julius, thinking she might save him. Reinhardt forgave even her worst moments. When she shouldn't be forgiven. He never mentioned how she stripped him of his knighthood, even knowing he had sworn a life oath of loyalty to her.
"It is a penance," she said. "And I will continue to make penance after penance until my last breath for the things I did."
"My love," he said.
He brought her close, arm about her. He'd taken to wearing cloaks to beat back the cold weather. It was such a wonderful feeling to be wrapped up with him. He stroked her hair in soft motions.
"You must learn to forgive yourself."
Much easier said than done.
"I love you, my dear. I always will. Do not let the rabble concern you, for you are above them."
"If you call those who oppose me rabble, then you will be against much of the world," she said.
"Then so be it. Where you are is where I belong," he said.
His arms enclosed her. The past was pushed aside, momentarily. There would be nightmares, and overwhelming guilt. As long as she survived, this shade of the past would follow her. But, she was not alone. And as long as Reinhardt lived, she would not face this guilt by herself.
Series: Fire Emblem: Jugdral
Character/pairing: ReinIsh
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1655
Summary: Years later, she reminisces as she searches for a bauble. About the lost youth, the pain, and what she once was.
Author's note:
Post series by a lot. AU in that some characters did not die and managed to live.
BTW I totally love that Kaga was so insistent that Sigurd and Deirdre and Rein/Ish got to have happy endings and live! Love that part of Jugdral. the one where Sigurd and Deirdre and Rein/Ish just were happy. And married. Forever.
That part of 4/5 was amazing. The happy endings part.
WOO REARMED REINHARDT MADE ME DRAG THIS OUT AND FINISH IT!
She hadn't been in this wing of the castle in quite a while. The chaises and furniture were covered in white sheets and dust, like ghosts. The doors had been shut, locked, as if to keep something out--or in, as it was.
This was where it had ended up. Even after the war, when Friege desperately needed funds, she couldn't bring herself to sell these mementos. Yet, she couldn't bear to look at them, either. So in old chests they were pushed, to slowly turn musty and old, brittle like bones and hidden away.
But, she had promised Tine that she would try and find any mementos of her mother, and what was owed her. So, she braved these memories, this graveyard. There was Ishtore's broach of gold, used to secure his cloak. It had been pulled off his body, with the intention of cleaning the blood off it before his burial.
She lifted the dress against her body, and the jewelry with it.
This dress had been a gift to her from Julius himself. Once, she'd been slim enough for it to fit. Now, as she held it to her, she saw her hips far too wide, and the face that looked back at her in the mirror lined with age and sorrow.
It was so bittersweet to hear those words. Once, she'd been so beautiful. Endless tragedies, two children, twenty years, all of them had taken away her beauty, bit by bit.
She was not quite as slim as she once was. Thicker hips, behind, and chest, to say nothing of her waist. She'd never quite lost the weight after the last child, which had been a difficult pregnancy and even more difficult birth.
But, that could be overlooked. It was her haunted expression, that lingered with her even after all these years that truly damned her. The guilt, the memories. She could hardly even smile at gatherings. Even more if she was separated from her husband in them.
Was it vanity, then? Or loss?
She remembered being that girl. One who looked forward to dances and gathering and new dresses. Who tried to include her cousin. Foolishly innocent and idealistic. That innocence stripped away by the horrors of the Loptyrian empire--and her once lover.
Her hands went over the rough material. Time had worn away some of the fabric. Moths, had taken even more. The cloak was pitted with bites of mice, who had used it for nests.
A soft sigh.
Behind her, a voice. She turned her head, to see an edge of black, peerless waistcoat. The door closed.
"My love...there you are. I thought you should not face these ghosts alone."
"Ah, Reinhardt."
She smiled. When he was around, her sorrowful expression managed to disappear. Albeit briefly.
The dress had grown brittle, though it still held some beauty, past the bloodstains. She should've simply cast it aside, burnt it. But, she'd been so distraught after those days, and past the war, losing her family, and Julius's death.
She'd intended to die, to drown in her guilt and sorrows, but had not. Reinhardt would not let her in the end. He'd stayed behind her, even when Friege had fallen to lows even worse than the end of Duke Reptor's rule.
And so, they'd been put away. All of it. Even what shouldn't have been.
"Just, reminiscing. Back before the war, to when I could fit in this."
Before she'd lost her family, and so much of Friege. Before the death, the return of the hunts, and how bloodstained her House had become.
And back when she'd been so young, so innocent, and so much more lissome back then. She'd had such titles put upon her. The most beautiful of a generation. The most eligible of any House. And it hadn't mattered to her, for back then, she'd thought she'd already found her love. It only mattered that the one she loved thought so.
She hadn't even thought of it, treasured it. The beauty that so many had defined her by. And now, years later, it was all but withered away. Only then did she realized she missed it. The youth and beauty that years and sorrows had taken away from her.
"Something troubles you. Did you have nightmares again?"
"Not this time," she said.
She knew he would not stop at that, so she said the words she had kept inside.
"They say it sometimes. In hushed voices. 'She used to be so beautiful.' Those thorns, they are stuck in me at times."
"None should ever say that in my presence, if they wish to live. For you are beautiful still. Completely, in every way."
"My love, you were beautiful then, but you are perhaps even more beautiful now. When I look at you, I see the mother of my children. I see a woman who survived such struggles with grace and regality. Yes, you made mistakes; we all did during the war. But you lived, my dear."
He lifted up her chin with his gloved had. Aging had been gentle to Reinhardt. The graying at his temples made him look distinguished. He'd kept to his training. And she'd heard plenty a hushed whisper, that if Reinhardt ever outlived her, many would strive to take her place as his wife. For he'd proven himself quite the knight, consort, husband and father.
Not that she'd ever doubt him.
"I would say this at twenty, at forty, at sixty and eighty. You are so beautiful to me, my love. And age will not steal that away from me. Nothing will."
He drew her into his arms. She rested her head against his firm chest as he ran his fingers through her hair. Paler now with age.
"You are silver-tongued, dear," she said.
"I am truthful. I think whomever said such things vile, and frankly liars filled with some sort of jealousy."
Then again, Reinhardt did always think everything about her perfect and beautiful. Even when she faltered. Even when she made horrible, unforgivable mistakes, Reinhardt forgave her them all.
It just took her almost losing everything to realize what had been there all along.
"Much of this should be burned. Sold. Melted into new coins to help the populace, though I couldn't bear it. I couldn't bear to let go, even to the painful memories."
There were even mementos of Julius in here. The mere sight of them would set her guilt and sorrow alight. The circlet he'd bought to distract her as she went to Miletos to join the hunts, and turn her back on the work that she and Ishtore had once done.
"My love, you had to let go of so much in life. Keep these if you must."
Her hand closed over the broach tightly, until she could feel it dig into her palm.
"I'll keep this, but burn the dress. As a penance, for the person I was when I wore it."
"You have given so much to the families. You were the staunchest advocate for so long. Few have fought harder than you after the war. I would have to carry you off to bed so you would even think of resting, for you would soldier on for the next decree to help the war orphans and families that had been so wounded by the Loyptyrians hunts."
"It was the least I could do, considering....how I strayed from the path."
He had never spoken ill of her, when she had followed her heart--followed Julius--madly, wildly into darkness. Once, she'd been the staunchest advocate against the hunts, alongside Ishtore. Once, she'd even challenged Lord Julius himself on that front.
He did not mention her falter, when she was lead down a path of darkness following after Julius, thinking she might save him. Reinhardt forgave even her worst moments. When she shouldn't be forgiven. He never mentioned how she stripped him of his knighthood, even knowing he had sworn a life oath of loyalty to her.
"It is a penance," she said. "And I will continue to make penance after penance until my last breath for the things I did."
"My love," he said.
He brought her close, arm about her. He'd taken to wearing cloaks to beat back the cold weather. It was such a wonderful feeling to be wrapped up with him. He stroked her hair in soft motions.
"You must learn to forgive yourself."
Much easier said than done.
"I love you, my dear. I always will. Do not let the rabble concern you, for you are above them."
"If you call those who oppose me rabble, then you will be against much of the world," she said.
"Then so be it. Where you are is where I belong," he said.
His arms enclosed her. The past was pushed aside, momentarily. There would be nightmares, and overwhelming guilt. As long as she survived, this shade of the past would follow her. But, she was not alone. And as long as Reinhardt lived, she would not face this guilt by herself.
