fic: The Price
Aug. 5th, 2024 04:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: The Price
Series: FE4/5
Character/pairing: Reinhardt/Ishtar
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: To bring back Princess Ishtar's smile, Reinhardt is willing to do anything. Be it murder, or betrayal.
Author's note:
CW: Canon-typical violence. (Maybe a little harsher than canon, but violent assassination is pretty in line with general Jugdral content warnings.)
And I guess a warning for the kind of relationship where killing someone is a token of love. But that was already implied.
This AU assumes an alternate timeline where:
-Reinhardt wasn't dismissed so much as Ish told him "go lay low for a while" and he helped her betray the empire.
Reinhardt never joined the River Thracia, because he was ordered to stay close.
Ish overheard the convo between Manfroy and Veld that reveals Loptous church was using Friege as cannon fodder and she's fucking pissed.
It's the final battle, but neither Rein or Ish has died.
Ish is still in the more gray area of betraying Julius while still being in his army.
He drops to his knees
says 'please, my love, please'
I'll kill who you hate
take off that dress
you won't freeze
-Stars, The Big Fight
The night was filled with shadow and firelight. She glanced back. She waited in the still of the night. Even her breaths sounded loud.
The crack of fire. The sound of night insects. In Grandvalle, there always was the scent of burned flesh in the air, for those who perished for being suspected of the blood of Maera--and the hum of distant chanting--for those who actually served the blood of Maera.
With so many cloaked cultists about in Granvalle, few noticed another in a dark cloak walking late at night. She'd tied her trademark ponytail into a bun at the nape of her neck, and left her usually Friege regalia for a long black dress.
Like she was readying for a funeral.
The words echoed in her mind. When Julius told her to get rid of him, when Julius said he loved her so much, that he'd pluck the eyes that looked at her, when Julius mocked her family.
When Julius said he loved her, when Julius brought her closer when her hands were dirtied, when her hands were freed, when she betrayed him the first thrilling time. A lock undone, that could never be twisted again.
It all coalesced inside her. Her heart turned to ice, to iron. Her hands clenched even at the thought.
And she'd given it up. Her morals, her family. All for the thought she could one day convince him. And here she was, in a field at dark, betraying the man she loved yet again.
She couldn't tell how past-tense that 'loved' was anymore. Her head was too foggy with the burning rage which had ignited the moment she heard Manfroy's voice say how Friege was always meant to be sacrificed. How every death was intended, and the Liberation Army had done their work for them.
Had her heart been traitorous even then? Even when she had been among the loudest of the anti-hunt faction, along with her brother. Had a part of her held back, even as she threw the facts in his face, during that meeting with Veld?
Julius had commanded her to 'get rid' of Reinhardt. Instead, she'd told Reinhardt 'stay out of his sight, and return to me. I still have something important for you to do.'
Even then, when she would've said so easily, so freely, that she was in love with Julius...Even then, before the thought of Julius caused her hesitation and unease. Even then, she had been already looking for the exit.
Out from the shadows he strode.
He lifted up the hood of his cloak and revealed his striking, unforgettable face.
"My liege," he said.
He went on bended knee--a gesture he always did, even if she told him such grand notions were not necessary.
His head was bowed, almost reverently.
She nodded.
"Please, give me your report, Reinhardt."
He told her in his own succinct, professional way. How he'd cut off guards at the border pass, while she went ahead and sliced free the locks at the caravans.
And so it went. In public, she would be the dutiful daughter, and betray her morals. Sacrifice them on the altar of what she had once called 'love.'
Filial, romantic. It didn't matter. These were the tethers which bound her, strangled her.
And, every time, the caravans would run into an issue. A storm. Bandits, who stole nothing but the children, who had already been stolen away. The 'games' as Julius called them, had been delayed for months at this rate.
Julius still blamed the Liberation Army. And the longer he did, the longer she would live.
"I can't stay long. He...will be looking for me."
Her expression was grim. "I must...return to the battlefield soon, or Lord Julius will suspect something is afoot."
The thought of returning to who she supposedly loved the most felt like a noose strangling her.
"...My liege. It's been so long since I've seen you smile. I should like to give you a gift, something to bring you even a moment of joy."
"You always did. You were the kindest and most giving guard anyone could ever ask for," she said.
And she did smile, if for a moment. At the thought of earlier, better times. Before the war. Before her family was killed.
And here is was, without anything left. Ishtore and father were dead. And mother...perhaps death would've been kinder than the veil revealed, to show the woman she had loved as her parent all these years was a monster in human skin.
"Now is hardly the time to think of such things," she said quickly.
"To return that smile, I would do anything. I would conquer whomever you asked, and kill whoever you asked."
"...Anyone?"
She turned back. And what did it say that his offer was so enticing.
And the thought, so traitorous, yet so common these days.
I should've fallen in love with you, Reinhardt. My life would've been so different.
Because falling in love with Reinhardt wouldn't have felt like she was treading water, and barely able to breathe. Loving Julius was drowning. Loving Julius was sinking into an early grave. Loving Julius was feeling death consume her slowly, as she still lived and gasped for air.
"If I could manage the feat, I would do it. Should you ask."
She wouldn't ask for Julius's death, anyways. And, of course, she would never ask Reinhardt to turn against his beloved sister. Even though she had defected to the Liberation Army.
"I thought the Liberation Army was to blame. I hated them with my entire being, even as we shared the same ideals. But, I overheard...."
"Manfroy does not see me as a threat. I was sent to Thracia, and I overheard....Friege was nothing but cannon fodder. They allied with us to destroy us. In the end, the Liberation Army was the blade that killed my family, not the wielder."
"Manfroy, then?"
She nodded.
"Yes. His death would be a gift, a blessing to me."
"Did Julius know? Is Manfroy or Julius who truly rules this country?"
"If he did, he did not protest," she said flatly.
And, he had mocked the death of her family. Called them pathetic and useless in the end.
Even then, she couldn't fully look away.
"...Reinhardt. Please don't die. You're all I have left now."
And even then, she'd had to betray Julius over and over just to keep a hold of him.
"There are some who can kill me. But, a corrupted and vile being like him is not one of them."
Tears glistened in her eyes. It kept happening. She would ready herself to feel as if ice encased her. But around Reinhardt, she couldn't keep up the facade for very long. The cracks would show of her grief, and her unending sorrow.
He lifted her chin with his gloved hands. And wiped the tears from her eyes. Her eyes grew wide at the touch.
"I am your sword. Whomever you ask to perish, shall meet their end very soon. Manfroy will not trouble you much longer."
"I trust you," she said. "And I know you will return. Bring me his head. Let me see his demise, even if I can't be there myself."
"I shall do it. Whatever you ask," he said.
And then, he was gone. She was left alone in the night. It was a sinking stone dragging her down, the thought that she would have to return to Granvalle and play the part again.
The guilt, as she betrayed everything. The guilt as she stood by Julius's side, and realized a soft fading inside her. A wish to be anywhere other than the place which was most beloved to her, not so long ago.
*
The battlefield was chaos. Julia, controlled--the forces of Friege, the Deadlords, the forces of the Loptyr cult. Many of the forces of Friege had been defeated in the first day.
And against them, several orphans with little more than inherited weapons and the chance to retake what had been burnt to ash.
The Liberation Army was beaten back, but not defeated. Julia, wreathed and wrapped in purple flames advanced. And Seliph refused to fight her, or even engage her in battle. It was a game of cat and mouse. Seliph's sword sheathed, for he would not raise it to her. Even if she tried to kill him.
Which meant the eyes weren't on Reinhardt.
Once, Reinhardt had been the star of every battle. The shining general, said to be Thrud reborn. Now, he was a mere shadow upon the battlefield.
Now, a cloak covered his Friege regalia. And with so many cloaked cultists, none paid him any mind as he rode through the din.
The cultists spread out in a line. Each tome held at ready. None of them looked to their back--and why should they? The Liberation Army hadn't gotten that far, and Lord Arvis had already met his end. Lord Julius thought that surely, no traitors would be among him.
He dismounted. For once, magic wouldn't be enough. He wanted to feel Manfroy's last breath--hopefully racked with pain--as Manfroy's soul as it was dragged down to hell.
"Friege remembers," he said.
The Blessed Sword pierced through Manfroy's body. He could've killed Manfroy in a single strike. But, for a man who had caused so much pain across Jugdral, a painless death would be far too merciful.
Manfroy drew a breath that came out like a growl. He looked back, inhuman in those cold eyes. Reinhardt pulled free the blade in a quick movement.
Good. He'd aimed for the stomach, one of the worst ways to die. If only he'd been able to leave him there, begging for mercy.
But, there was no time for such enjoyment. Not at this late hour.
The second strike cleaved his head from his body. Manfroy's last expression was one of excruciating pain.
The Loptyrian cultists looked to him. Red eyes from the void and shadows of their cloaks. Reinhardt lifted up his hand, and from it, lightning rained down upon them.
They writhed in momentary agony, as the lightning coiled about them like ropes.
They disappeared, as if they were never alive. Reinhardt bent to lift up Manfroy's head and wrap in a white cloth. Like a gift, a token to his liege.
Blood had spattered and stained his cloak, and turned it rust brown. Some of it dripped down onto his cheek. His dark eyes surveyed the battlefield. No reinforcements came for the godforsaken souls of the Loptyrian cult.
The battle continued on without him. In the clash of swords, no one noticed the cloaked figure ride away.
*
Julia fell forward, the spell suddenly broken. Seliph's arms encircled her, and he carried her back.
The Liberation Army retreated, if but for a moment.
Seliph wouldn't risk his sister's life, even if it delayed victory. Not even for a moment.
*
The truth was, she'd planned to die that day when the Liberation Army attacked. But, revenge kept her going. She couldn't die while Manfroy still lived. The rage was a storm inside her, a tornado approaching. Instead, she threw herself into battle and intentionally took a wound which would cause her to withdraw, and ensure she couldn't be in the next day of battle.
If she dismantled the Loptyrian empire, Julius would disappear along with it.
What did it say about her, that her thought of a world without Julius was simply I'll remember what he once was and I loved him, once?
Did she love him, or did she hate him? All she knew was she felt alive the moment she stepped away from Granvalle—from him. And the moment she returned, she felt as if sinking.
She still wasn't sure. She served him by day, knifed him in the back by knight. And love?
More and more, she regretted the one she had given her heart to. But, that was not final. Friege could arise, she could be reclaimed, and so could her love.
The battle had to cease in the darkness. Only the cultists and Deadlords could work in such a situation, and the Liberation Army.
The invading army was enough to grant her a respite, as Julius had an emergency meeting with the other Loptyrian cultists.
A starry night. Almost beautiful, lit only by the campfire.
She looked down at the grotesque sight.
The cloth had once been white, but the blood stained it almost a rust brown. He opened up, and revealed Manfroy's decapitated head. He laid it before her gently. The most brutal gift she'd ever received, and it was laid before her like a delicate flower.
"Ishtore, father, you've been avenged."
And for every Friege soldier who were nothing but pawns in this war. Who went to their death.
"I only wish I had been I who held the blade."
"I am your sword. It is you who commanded me. You were not there, but I did your bidding. And would do so gladly, should you ever ask."
Yes, Reinhardt had long been called "Ishtar's sword." A warning, to any who should come for Friege. That they would face not merely the might of Mjolnir, but Reinhardt as well. And few could survive facing him in battle. Julius could, but not many else.
"Thank you, Reinhardt. I could ask for no better gift than this."
He dropped to his knees. She held out her hand. He kissed it, an act of fealty. Perhaps more. The heat of his lips on the back of her hand warmed her thoroughly. His gaze never left hers, all the while.
Reinhardt had the scent blood on him, and rust-colored stains all over his black cloak.
"Was it difficult? I hadn't even asked if you were injured."
"Not at all. This blood is not mine. Their attention was on the Liberation Army. I struck before they even had a chance to retaliate. And, don't worry, my liege. I made him experience pain before I took his head."
"Good. He's caused enough pain to sink all of the country in despair."
"I must ask, my liege. If the Loptyrian empire burns, where shall you go? Officially, Friege is allied with Granvalle."
She hadn't spoken of her plans. To end her suffering once and for all. To go out as a soldier to the very end.
Fight against her
"Wherever it is, I will follow. Even if it is to the gates of hell."
"I have already experienced the depths of hell, for I have known war. And the darkness that the Loptyrian cult has brought."
Once, she would've stood by Julius, and tried to keep reaching him, no matter what darkness it led her to.
But, an overheard conversation between Manfroy and Veld changed all that.
And now, every time she was by Julius's side, she wondered how much did you know, Julius? Did you plan to kill them all along? Am I nothing more than a pawn to you?"
"Back to Friege. With you by my side."
She did not mention Julius's name and he did not ask.
He rose.
"Whatever you ask shall be done."
"I'll rebuild Friege, be it from the ashes. Even if none ally with me. I won't abandon them. In the end, all I can do is keep moving forward."
"The truth is... I....nearly lost myself. I was to die, but the thought of seeing my family avenged, it kept me going."
And what then, of her love? If she had to choose between him and life, and the remnants of herself, of her House, then she chose herself.
He looked up with her with such resolve and passion, and kissed the back of her hand again. Somewhere between fealty, and an unspoken---dare she say--love?
"I am glad that you withstood such thoughts, and survived. I could not fathom a world without you in it."
"I didn't mean to admit that. But, I find myself confiding in you."
"I value that you would trust me so. More than words could say."
'
"You should not have to bear this burden alone."
He rose.
"Who next?"
"We need to regroup."
"Survive, my liege."
"I sustained a wound enough to withdraw, but only just that. Keep striking the caravans. I'll join you once I've healed. For however long this takes. I have no idea how long the Deadlords will delay the Liberation Army."
One day, she wouldn't have to pay false fealty to the Loptyrian cult any longer. But, today was not that day.
And Julius?
Twisted feelings. The boy she had loved, the boy he had become.
So often she thought I should've fallen in love with you, Reinhardt, instead of Julius.
She wasn't helpless. She could reclaim it, ashes as it was.
She turned her back on her love, on Granvalle. To face Freige. With Reinhardt by her side.
Author's note:
Sometimes you have a bad day and you end up writing Reinhardt: Assassin's creed as vent art. Sometimes the day is bad and Manfroy has to die because of it. Never mind that he has to die anyways.
Series: FE4/5
Character/pairing: Reinhardt/Ishtar
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: To bring back Princess Ishtar's smile, Reinhardt is willing to do anything. Be it murder, or betrayal.
Author's note:
CW: Canon-typical violence. (Maybe a little harsher than canon, but violent assassination is pretty in line with general Jugdral content warnings.)
And I guess a warning for the kind of relationship where killing someone is a token of love. But that was already implied.
This AU assumes an alternate timeline where:
-Reinhardt wasn't dismissed so much as Ish told him "go lay low for a while" and he helped her betray the empire.
Reinhardt never joined the River Thracia, because he was ordered to stay close.
Ish overheard the convo between Manfroy and Veld that reveals Loptous church was using Friege as cannon fodder and she's fucking pissed.
It's the final battle, but neither Rein or Ish has died.
Ish is still in the more gray area of betraying Julius while still being in his army.
He drops to his knees
says 'please, my love, please'
I'll kill who you hate
take off that dress
you won't freeze
-Stars, The Big Fight
The night was filled with shadow and firelight. She glanced back. She waited in the still of the night. Even her breaths sounded loud.
The crack of fire. The sound of night insects. In Grandvalle, there always was the scent of burned flesh in the air, for those who perished for being suspected of the blood of Maera--and the hum of distant chanting--for those who actually served the blood of Maera.
With so many cloaked cultists about in Granvalle, few noticed another in a dark cloak walking late at night. She'd tied her trademark ponytail into a bun at the nape of her neck, and left her usually Friege regalia for a long black dress.
Like she was readying for a funeral.
The words echoed in her mind. When Julius told her to get rid of him, when Julius said he loved her so much, that he'd pluck the eyes that looked at her, when Julius mocked her family.
When Julius said he loved her, when Julius brought her closer when her hands were dirtied, when her hands were freed, when she betrayed him the first thrilling time. A lock undone, that could never be twisted again.
It all coalesced inside her. Her heart turned to ice, to iron. Her hands clenched even at the thought.
And she'd given it up. Her morals, her family. All for the thought she could one day convince him. And here she was, in a field at dark, betraying the man she loved yet again.
She couldn't tell how past-tense that 'loved' was anymore. Her head was too foggy with the burning rage which had ignited the moment she heard Manfroy's voice say how Friege was always meant to be sacrificed. How every death was intended, and the Liberation Army had done their work for them.
Had her heart been traitorous even then? Even when she had been among the loudest of the anti-hunt faction, along with her brother. Had a part of her held back, even as she threw the facts in his face, during that meeting with Veld?
Julius had commanded her to 'get rid' of Reinhardt. Instead, she'd told Reinhardt 'stay out of his sight, and return to me. I still have something important for you to do.'
Even then, when she would've said so easily, so freely, that she was in love with Julius...Even then, before the thought of Julius caused her hesitation and unease. Even then, she had been already looking for the exit.
Out from the shadows he strode.
He lifted up the hood of his cloak and revealed his striking, unforgettable face.
"My liege," he said.
He went on bended knee--a gesture he always did, even if she told him such grand notions were not necessary.
His head was bowed, almost reverently.
She nodded.
"Please, give me your report, Reinhardt."
He told her in his own succinct, professional way. How he'd cut off guards at the border pass, while she went ahead and sliced free the locks at the caravans.
And so it went. In public, she would be the dutiful daughter, and betray her morals. Sacrifice them on the altar of what she had once called 'love.'
Filial, romantic. It didn't matter. These were the tethers which bound her, strangled her.
And, every time, the caravans would run into an issue. A storm. Bandits, who stole nothing but the children, who had already been stolen away. The 'games' as Julius called them, had been delayed for months at this rate.
Julius still blamed the Liberation Army. And the longer he did, the longer she would live.
"I can't stay long. He...will be looking for me."
Her expression was grim. "I must...return to the battlefield soon, or Lord Julius will suspect something is afoot."
The thought of returning to who she supposedly loved the most felt like a noose strangling her.
"...My liege. It's been so long since I've seen you smile. I should like to give you a gift, something to bring you even a moment of joy."
"You always did. You were the kindest and most giving guard anyone could ever ask for," she said.
And she did smile, if for a moment. At the thought of earlier, better times. Before the war. Before her family was killed.
And here is was, without anything left. Ishtore and father were dead. And mother...perhaps death would've been kinder than the veil revealed, to show the woman she had loved as her parent all these years was a monster in human skin.
"Now is hardly the time to think of such things," she said quickly.
"To return that smile, I would do anything. I would conquer whomever you asked, and kill whoever you asked."
"...Anyone?"
She turned back. And what did it say that his offer was so enticing.
And the thought, so traitorous, yet so common these days.
I should've fallen in love with you, Reinhardt. My life would've been so different.
Because falling in love with Reinhardt wouldn't have felt like she was treading water, and barely able to breathe. Loving Julius was drowning. Loving Julius was sinking into an early grave. Loving Julius was feeling death consume her slowly, as she still lived and gasped for air.
"If I could manage the feat, I would do it. Should you ask."
She wouldn't ask for Julius's death, anyways. And, of course, she would never ask Reinhardt to turn against his beloved sister. Even though she had defected to the Liberation Army.
"I thought the Liberation Army was to blame. I hated them with my entire being, even as we shared the same ideals. But, I overheard...."
"Manfroy does not see me as a threat. I was sent to Thracia, and I overheard....Friege was nothing but cannon fodder. They allied with us to destroy us. In the end, the Liberation Army was the blade that killed my family, not the wielder."
"Manfroy, then?"
She nodded.
"Yes. His death would be a gift, a blessing to me."
"Did Julius know? Is Manfroy or Julius who truly rules this country?"
"If he did, he did not protest," she said flatly.
And, he had mocked the death of her family. Called them pathetic and useless in the end.
Even then, she couldn't fully look away.
"...Reinhardt. Please don't die. You're all I have left now."
And even then, she'd had to betray Julius over and over just to keep a hold of him.
"There are some who can kill me. But, a corrupted and vile being like him is not one of them."
Tears glistened in her eyes. It kept happening. She would ready herself to feel as if ice encased her. But around Reinhardt, she couldn't keep up the facade for very long. The cracks would show of her grief, and her unending sorrow.
He lifted her chin with his gloved hands. And wiped the tears from her eyes. Her eyes grew wide at the touch.
"I am your sword. Whomever you ask to perish, shall meet their end very soon. Manfroy will not trouble you much longer."
"I trust you," she said. "And I know you will return. Bring me his head. Let me see his demise, even if I can't be there myself."
"I shall do it. Whatever you ask," he said.
And then, he was gone. She was left alone in the night. It was a sinking stone dragging her down, the thought that she would have to return to Granvalle and play the part again.
The guilt, as she betrayed everything. The guilt as she stood by Julius's side, and realized a soft fading inside her. A wish to be anywhere other than the place which was most beloved to her, not so long ago.
*
The battlefield was chaos. Julia, controlled--the forces of Friege, the Deadlords, the forces of the Loptyr cult. Many of the forces of Friege had been defeated in the first day.
And against them, several orphans with little more than inherited weapons and the chance to retake what had been burnt to ash.
The Liberation Army was beaten back, but not defeated. Julia, wreathed and wrapped in purple flames advanced. And Seliph refused to fight her, or even engage her in battle. It was a game of cat and mouse. Seliph's sword sheathed, for he would not raise it to her. Even if she tried to kill him.
Which meant the eyes weren't on Reinhardt.
Once, Reinhardt had been the star of every battle. The shining general, said to be Thrud reborn. Now, he was a mere shadow upon the battlefield.
Now, a cloak covered his Friege regalia. And with so many cloaked cultists, none paid him any mind as he rode through the din.
The cultists spread out in a line. Each tome held at ready. None of them looked to their back--and why should they? The Liberation Army hadn't gotten that far, and Lord Arvis had already met his end. Lord Julius thought that surely, no traitors would be among him.
He dismounted. For once, magic wouldn't be enough. He wanted to feel Manfroy's last breath--hopefully racked with pain--as Manfroy's soul as it was dragged down to hell.
"Friege remembers," he said.
The Blessed Sword pierced through Manfroy's body. He could've killed Manfroy in a single strike. But, for a man who had caused so much pain across Jugdral, a painless death would be far too merciful.
Manfroy drew a breath that came out like a growl. He looked back, inhuman in those cold eyes. Reinhardt pulled free the blade in a quick movement.
Good. He'd aimed for the stomach, one of the worst ways to die. If only he'd been able to leave him there, begging for mercy.
But, there was no time for such enjoyment. Not at this late hour.
The second strike cleaved his head from his body. Manfroy's last expression was one of excruciating pain.
The Loptyrian cultists looked to him. Red eyes from the void and shadows of their cloaks. Reinhardt lifted up his hand, and from it, lightning rained down upon them.
They writhed in momentary agony, as the lightning coiled about them like ropes.
They disappeared, as if they were never alive. Reinhardt bent to lift up Manfroy's head and wrap in a white cloth. Like a gift, a token to his liege.
Blood had spattered and stained his cloak, and turned it rust brown. Some of it dripped down onto his cheek. His dark eyes surveyed the battlefield. No reinforcements came for the godforsaken souls of the Loptyrian cult.
The battle continued on without him. In the clash of swords, no one noticed the cloaked figure ride away.
*
Julia fell forward, the spell suddenly broken. Seliph's arms encircled her, and he carried her back.
The Liberation Army retreated, if but for a moment.
Seliph wouldn't risk his sister's life, even if it delayed victory. Not even for a moment.
*
The truth was, she'd planned to die that day when the Liberation Army attacked. But, revenge kept her going. She couldn't die while Manfroy still lived. The rage was a storm inside her, a tornado approaching. Instead, she threw herself into battle and intentionally took a wound which would cause her to withdraw, and ensure she couldn't be in the next day of battle.
If she dismantled the Loptyrian empire, Julius would disappear along with it.
What did it say about her, that her thought of a world without Julius was simply I'll remember what he once was and I loved him, once?
Did she love him, or did she hate him? All she knew was she felt alive the moment she stepped away from Granvalle—from him. And the moment she returned, she felt as if sinking.
She still wasn't sure. She served him by day, knifed him in the back by knight. And love?
More and more, she regretted the one she had given her heart to. But, that was not final. Friege could arise, she could be reclaimed, and so could her love.
The battle had to cease in the darkness. Only the cultists and Deadlords could work in such a situation, and the Liberation Army.
The invading army was enough to grant her a respite, as Julius had an emergency meeting with the other Loptyrian cultists.
A starry night. Almost beautiful, lit only by the campfire.
She looked down at the grotesque sight.
The cloth had once been white, but the blood stained it almost a rust brown. He opened up, and revealed Manfroy's decapitated head. He laid it before her gently. The most brutal gift she'd ever received, and it was laid before her like a delicate flower.
"Ishtore, father, you've been avenged."
And for every Friege soldier who were nothing but pawns in this war. Who went to their death.
"I only wish I had been I who held the blade."
"I am your sword. It is you who commanded me. You were not there, but I did your bidding. And would do so gladly, should you ever ask."
Yes, Reinhardt had long been called "Ishtar's sword." A warning, to any who should come for Friege. That they would face not merely the might of Mjolnir, but Reinhardt as well. And few could survive facing him in battle. Julius could, but not many else.
"Thank you, Reinhardt. I could ask for no better gift than this."
He dropped to his knees. She held out her hand. He kissed it, an act of fealty. Perhaps more. The heat of his lips on the back of her hand warmed her thoroughly. His gaze never left hers, all the while.
Reinhardt had the scent blood on him, and rust-colored stains all over his black cloak.
"Was it difficult? I hadn't even asked if you were injured."
"Not at all. This blood is not mine. Their attention was on the Liberation Army. I struck before they even had a chance to retaliate. And, don't worry, my liege. I made him experience pain before I took his head."
"Good. He's caused enough pain to sink all of the country in despair."
"I must ask, my liege. If the Loptyrian empire burns, where shall you go? Officially, Friege is allied with Granvalle."
She hadn't spoken of her plans. To end her suffering once and for all. To go out as a soldier to the very end.
Fight against her
"Wherever it is, I will follow. Even if it is to the gates of hell."
"I have already experienced the depths of hell, for I have known war. And the darkness that the Loptyrian cult has brought."
Once, she would've stood by Julius, and tried to keep reaching him, no matter what darkness it led her to.
But, an overheard conversation between Manfroy and Veld changed all that.
And now, every time she was by Julius's side, she wondered how much did you know, Julius? Did you plan to kill them all along? Am I nothing more than a pawn to you?"
"Back to Friege. With you by my side."
She did not mention Julius's name and he did not ask.
He rose.
"Whatever you ask shall be done."
"I'll rebuild Friege, be it from the ashes. Even if none ally with me. I won't abandon them. In the end, all I can do is keep moving forward."
"The truth is... I....nearly lost myself. I was to die, but the thought of seeing my family avenged, it kept me going."
And what then, of her love? If she had to choose between him and life, and the remnants of herself, of her House, then she chose herself.
He looked up with her with such resolve and passion, and kissed the back of her hand again. Somewhere between fealty, and an unspoken---dare she say--love?
"I am glad that you withstood such thoughts, and survived. I could not fathom a world without you in it."
"I didn't mean to admit that. But, I find myself confiding in you."
"I value that you would trust me so. More than words could say."
'
"You should not have to bear this burden alone."
He rose.
"Who next?"
"We need to regroup."
"Survive, my liege."
"I sustained a wound enough to withdraw, but only just that. Keep striking the caravans. I'll join you once I've healed. For however long this takes. I have no idea how long the Deadlords will delay the Liberation Army."
One day, she wouldn't have to pay false fealty to the Loptyrian cult any longer. But, today was not that day.
And Julius?
Twisted feelings. The boy she had loved, the boy he had become.
So often she thought I should've fallen in love with you, Reinhardt, instead of Julius.
She wasn't helpless. She could reclaim it, ashes as it was.
She turned her back on her love, on Granvalle. To face Freige. With Reinhardt by her side.
Author's note:
Sometimes you have a bad day and you end up writing Reinhardt: Assassin's creed as vent art. Sometimes the day is bad and Manfroy has to die because of it. Never mind that he has to die anyways.
