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More than a fortnight ago, when Ferdinand was preparing to depart for Myrddin with his cavalrymen to join Ladislava in defending the bridge from the approaching Kingdom army, his soulmate had seen him off. He could read the tenseness of his shoulders and his tight frown framed upon an uneasy expression.
“Hubert, if you are so worried on my behalf, why not join me in battle? We could fight side by side and be an unstoppable duo!” Ferdinand blithely suggested as he checked his last-minute preparations.
“As much as I’d like to join you, my place is here at Lady Edelgard’s side,” he replied, gauging Ferdinand’s every movement with a set of unnaturally green eyes. “But… I will gladly await you here in Enbarr when you return.”
The cavalryman turned to face his companion with a bright, sunny grin, meeting Hubert’s unveiled eye with his own fierce agate pair. “Then I will have to hurry back at once after we successfully defend the bridge!”
His partner only offered him a mirthless chuckle.
To see Hubert so concerned for his well-being warmed his heart and made him think of a time not that long ago when the pair of them wouldn’t have sent each other a second glance. It was as though they hated each other and they were sure to let the other one know it and know that they were indeed Her Highness’ -- now Her Majesty’s -- finest advisor. But all of that had changed through no small feat when after some time Ferdinand had begun to soften and understand Hubert’s loyalty to their lady, realizing that though his approach was not at all like his own, he had plenty of redeeming qualities that he himself did not possess.
And like that, he had seen color for the first time, a pale, jewel green quietly yet curiously peering into his own.
After that, other colors began to appear one at a time, all at once in glorious bravado. The furious red of his own Adrestian wear, the soft violet of gladiolus set in a bouquet meant for him, the warm, fruity orange color that accompanied the enticing scent of a foreign blend of tea leaves Hubert had bought, brewed for one of their leisure times together.
It had all been unexpected, discovering that his soulmate was the person he had thought himself to have the least amount of chemistry with. In the end, however, he couldn’t imagine himself being destined to be with anyone else. Whereas there had been nothing between them but a mutual sense of hostility, now there was adoration, admiration, and perhaps even love. He had yet to ask Hubert whether he shared the same sentiment, but he had been working time and time again to scratch down the perfect words to express himself on paper since he had once suggested he do the same when it came to sharing his own compliments of him.
The task however was proving far more difficult than he had expected it to be, but perhaps once the war was over, or at least, this battle won, he could finally admit the depth of his feelings for his weary companion.
Ferdinand easily climbed upon his saddle, glancing down at Hubert with the same fondness as before.
“Worry not, Hubert. I will be back as soon as I can. And besides that, I will have our Leicester allies to provide reinforcements should the enemy prove too difficult for both Ladislava and I,” he readily assured him. This didn’t seem to soothe Hubert nearly as much as he would have liked, but at least he didn’t appear as somber as before.
After a short exchange of farewells, Ferdinand went on his way, heading off to march to Myrddin with his soldiers to reinforce General Ladislava’s troops, unaware that this would be the last time he’d see his lover again.
It seemed today was the day that Lorenz would be set upon his duty to take his father’s place in battle.
In the days leading up to now, Imperial troops had been milling back and forth around the lakeside town of Myrddin, shoring their defenses and making preparations to combat the Kingdom army and the Knights of Seiros, both heralded by the dreaded Tempest King. The very idea that he’d be clashing blades on the same battlefield as such a monster -- who was to note once one of his more sincere, thoughtful classmates -- sent an uncomfortable shudder down his spine. To hear what such a good man had become from the tongues of gossiping merchants and soldiers carrying news from less accessible parts of Fódlan was a testament of just how war changed those involved and musing upon the gorier details made him exceedingly more uncomfortable.
Lorenz could only pray that he’d have the Goddess’ fortune not to cross blades with the man, or any of his other former classmates. In fact, he would have liked to not participate in this particular battle at all but it was the only way he’d be able to bring glory to his name and carry on the long line of noble heroes stemming from the Gloucester House. His father had done so before him and now it was on him to do the same. Besides that, they had to show their loyalty to the Empire lest they be wiped out like so many lesser lords from Faerghus and the Empire who failed to comply.
This all would have been pertinent information to give to his soulmate, since there was no telling what exactly may happen in this battle but his House had been summoned to the frontlines far too quickly for his liking and there was no chance of the Imperial army allowing him to send a letter to him. Especially since his soulmate was none other than the Alliance leader, not that anyone was aware. It’d turn him into a political pawn and force Claude to be at the mercy of whoever managed to hold House Gloucester’s allegiance… or whoever held them captive. Not to mention his father would undoubtedly be angry that the one whose fate his son was tied to was not just a political rival but also an outsider who came in from out of the blue as if on a whim.
And knowing Claude, it would have been a whim to take over his birthright. The man was a mystery at the best of times, but he’d like to think that he had learned at least a few of his various idiosyncrasies over the years and doing things on a whim to see how it’d pan out was one of them. Of that he had no doubt.
But this was no time to dwell upon his hidden affair with the Duke Riegan. Today he’d prove himself as his own man from beneath his father’s thumb and a noble worthy of praise and acclaim with his own merit and valor! He was after all the esteemed Lorenz Hellman Gloucester! Claude would simply just have to forgive him should anything occur on the battlefield, after all, once this victory had been achieved his father offered to cede his title of Count to him and neither he nor his lover would have to fear his discovery any longer. And that was more than enough reason to do it.
Upon arriving in Myrddin, he and the small posse of men that his father had allotted to him, were met with scrutiny and a constant watch of Imperial soldiers, obviously to ensure that he didn’t have any second thoughts about joining the Empire’s cause. And that he had no opportunity to alert any of their political opponents.
This was all fine of course. He didn’t intend to commit any acts of treachery that would land both he and the rest of House Gloucester on the poorer side of the Emperor’s graces. Though, he had considered one upon finding that he was to side with Lord Acheron the Weathervane.
This wasn’t expected as Acheron’s territory was to the immediate north of the Great Bridge but despite being on the same side (for once) he was still determined to be a persistent thorn in his side. Perhaps Acheron would die during the battle? The Tempest King with all of his ferocity and brutality would make quick work of him without a trace of mercy in the swing of his Relic, the Lance of the Slaughter, Areadbhar.
Nevertheless, even with the unfavorable allies and the obvious distrust that the Empire held for him, he was not alone, as within the first few minutes of having entered the site, he was brought before the leaders of the Imperial troops stationed there and aside from the powerful and intimidating force of General Ladislava, he found the sunny complexion of a familiar face grinning back at him, which was none other than Ferdinand von Aegir.
To be quite frank, he had never thought he would see his old classmate again, at least not during the course of this war. It was both reassuring and most intriguing.
Once again, he fell back to the gossip he had heard over the past few years. During the course of the war, Ferdinand had finally left his father’s shadow, being stripped of his own title and lands to carve his own path in the Empire’s military. He had become a top advisor to the Emperor alongside the sinister presence of the Marquis Vestra and an invaluable part of the Black Eagle Strike Force, a group consisting of all of their former classmates hailing from Adrestia.
Regardless, he greeted his friend in the same cordial manner that he would have had they not been stationed in a place that would soon become a warzone in the coming days. Ferdinand was obliged to do the same, though he did appear more than pleased to see his old friend once again.
The meeting didn’t last all that long, as it seemed that the purpose was to merely grant him his orders to stay put where he was stationed on the Imperial side of the Great Bridge and to scrutinize him as their soldiers were, to ensure that he had no intentions of turning tail and betraying their trust. Although, afterward and rather unexpectedly, his old friend asked him to join him for tea.
It was true what was said that Myrddin was built like a fortress, unlike Derdriu or even the quaint capital of Gloucester Territory. But then Myrddin was an important defensible location for both the Alliance and the Empire. The bridge had sat here between the two for centuries, providing the quickest route from either direction which would otherwise force generations of nobles and commoners and knights alike to cut through a treacherous path in the Oghma Mountains where many beasts made their home.
The importance of which made it imperative that this battle occurred to protect it and to safeguard it with whatever troops were on hand. Losing such a landmark would cost both the Empire and the Kingdom with the Knights of Seiros valuable time. Wryly, however, Lorenz smirked as he considered how the Alliance -- how Claude -- would deal with such a scenario as it would most certainly be destroyed to prevent enemy troops from crossing. It’d certainly cause an uproar among the Five Great Lords (especially his father) and within the Emperor’s staff, though it would undeniably get the job done.
“Lorenz, you have been awfully quiet since arriving here in Myrddin. I am beginning to think you have become quite ill,” Ferdinand stated, observing him from his place at the table between them, serviced with tea and a modest assortment of biscuits from Enbarr. “Might I ask what is on your mind?”
His molten, golden eyes surveyed him curiously but in a much softer manner than any of the soldiers he had encountered thus far during his time here. There was familiarity in it and concern mixed into it that Lorenz could not hope to ever find in any of the nameless Imperial soldiers nor Ladislava.
“I assure you that I am not suffering from an ailment of any kind,” he replied with an amused chuckle. “However, I must admit that I didn’t think I would see the day where the two of us could chat like old friends once more.”
Ferdinand inclined his head with a hum as he gently took up his teacup and saucer in hand. “I agree. I too did not think we would ever have the chance to speak like this again, though the fact that this is in the middle of a war… Well, I suppose we cannot get everything we hope for, can we?”
“I suppose not.”
Following his friend’s action, he took up his own cup and inhaled the warm, floral aroma of the vermillion blend that sat steaming in his cup. The scent lingered in the air as he brought it to his lips to savor its richness for himself, knowing that despite Ferdinand’s secretiveness that it was one of his favorites, Seiros Tea, which despite the name hailed from the Eastern lands of Almyra.
“My, my Ferdinand,” he commented once he had set his cup back on its saucer with care. “Seiros Tea? Just how did you manage to get your hands on something so sought after in times like these?”
His companion’s lips curved at the corners and a sense of pride exuded from him, a feature of Ferdinand’s that he had missed seeing in the past few years. “I do not know the exact method of how it was obtained, but it was given to me as a gift,” he replied, leaning in with an eager, bright-eyed look in his eyes that practically pleaded with Lorenz to ask whom. Of which Lorenz was certain he already knew, but he could not possibly resist the temptation to ask.
“Oh? And who was it that was astute to give you such a thoughtful gift?”
“Who else but my soulmate,” Ferdinand replied coolly grinning, preening and pleasant as he made use of all of Lorenz’s attention.
As expected.
“Your soulmate?” Lorenz mused aloud and then continued on in a much more intrigued, teasing manner, slipping easily from his growing anxiety at fighting a violent beast of man in the days to come, to easygoing amiability in his pursuit of gossip.
“I’d been hoping throughout our time at Garreg Mach that you would find one for yourself rather than linger upon discovering who was mine. And in my absence in your life, you seem to have taken the initiative to find one of your own! Now you simply must tell me everything, my dear Ferdinand. Leave no detail uncovered and left to explore with my own imagination!”
Chuckling in amusement, Ferdinand’s eyes were alight with glee. “I thought you would say that, Lorenz. Therefore, I am prepared to tell you that though you had also met yours in our time at the monastery, as fate would have it, that is where I too first encountered mine.”
Lorenz pondered that for several moments, waiting for Ferdinand’s answer until in the smug silence from his companion, he began to run through a list of their former classmates that had not yet acquired soulmates of their own.
It could not be either Linhardt or Caspar for certain as the two of them had been soulmates since long before coming to the monastery. Dorothea was happily paired with Petra and had never been quite fond of Ferdinand during their school days. There was a possible candidate in Bernadetta. He didn’t know her too well, as the young lady tended to flee at the sight of any one of her peers and retreat to her room, though Ferdinand had spoken of him having tea with her on occasion.
Hazarding another guess, he thought for a moment that it could be Edelgard. Ferdinand had endeavored to constantly improve himself in a valiant effort to become a worthy advisor to Her Majesty one day, and that he had. Though he would like to think that he would have heard something about it before now, unless that dour and dreadful retainer of hers, Hubert, buried it. Soulmates could easily be used as political bargaining chips after all. But then, if that was the case and regardless of that, Ferdinand wouldn’t be on the frontlines. Then again, his own soulmate was the Sovereign Duke of the Alliance and here he was of his own accord, and Ferdinand and he did often have similar ideals.
But with all of that in mind, he still couldn’t form an accurate assumption. There wasn’t any chance at all that it would be Hubert, the final member of the Black Eagles House. The two were bitter rivals at the best of times and Lorenz had caught the scathing, cruel glares the pair directed at each other.
“Is it… Edelgard? Or Bernadetta? It can’t possibly be anyone from Faerghus or Leicester. I would have heard something by now.”
Again, Ferdinand only laughed warm and amused at his expense. “No. It is neither of them, but you are correct. They are of Adrestia, as you had already guessed.”
“Quite honestly, Ferdinand, I can’t seem to recall anyone particularly aligned with the Empire that fits the circumstances,” he finally conceded. “I simply cannot fathom a guess of who it could be.”
“If you can’t guess now, then imagine my own surprise when the first sprigs of spring green began to unfurl before my eyes for someone had I once thought so grim.”
And just like that, it clicked both immediate and jarring, though he could not believe it at first. Or even in the slightest. But then, he hadn’t expected his own soulmate to be who he was either.
“Do you mean to tell me that your soulmate is Hubert? The very person you had once said must have a soulmate just as dry and conniving as he is?” Lorenz pried, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow in speculation.
“Well… yes...” Ferdinand replied, a splash of pink spreading over his cheeks, humbled by reminders of his past, pout taking the place of his typical grin. “I will admit that I have said horrible things of him in the past, but I admit that I didn’t care to know him then or even attempt to. Now that we are older and more mature, I would like to think that I have gained some humility since then and in exchange, he has changed as well, showing me a side of himself that I had not thought existed.”
“Since the start of the war, he has shown me that not only is he an astounding tactician but he is also quite thoughtful and affectionate in small gestures. They may be few and far in between, but they are there and make it clear to me that he cares abundantly for my wellbeing.”
Lorenz hummed in understanding, mulling it over. It would have been a lie and not at all decent for him to say that he wasn’t at all worried about Ferdinand, but hearing what he was now and knowing just how the dynamic of ‘soulmates’ worked in their worlds, he could count himself as assuaged, at least for now.
“In that case, I am pleased to know that you have found a suitable and affectionate soulmate for whom to care for,” Lorenz relented at last, letting a small but genuine smile grace his lips as not for the last time today, a certain schemer came to mind at Ferdinand’s portrayal of his own partner.
“Thank you, Lorenz. I am glad to know that the last of my dear friends approve of him,” and like that, the earnest grin curled the corners of his lips once more. “But that is enough about me and mine. What of your soulmate? Did you ever find out who they were?”
Naturally, it was only logical that that was to be the next topic of conversation between the two of them.
In their halcyon school days, Ferdinand was truly obsessed with the idea of helping him find his soulmate as the first fuzzy, pastel hues began to creep into his vision, not quite setting the world in a palette of colors, but giving him his first taste of them and offering the first sign that he had already met and acquainted himself with his soulmate. Truthfully though, he could understand the appeal. An evening of dancing with handsome young men and women all through the night until one certain and special someone showed up to sweep him off his feet and romance him for a spell in all the revelry about Garreg Mach. It was something like a fairy tale with him cast as the young maiden ripe to be charmed by a charismatic prince.
He was tempted to reveal to him the truth that he had carefully concealed from everyone in his life over the past few months that he himself had known. But despite his solid friendship with Ferdinand, his companion was still loyal to the Empire and his soulmate was the leader of the rival faction, the Alliance. If he were to tell Ferdinand, he could possibly damn himself just as ungracefully as if he told his own father. Worse even.
Gingerly, he took up his teacup and chuckled to hide behind his farce. “My dear Ferdinand, I couldn’t possibly reveal such a secret without at least having you guess the same as I,” he teased before taking a sip of the soothing black tea to calm the nerves that were beginning to rise up within him at such a seemingly innocuous question.
Ferdinand frowned and his peach-colored brows knit together pensively as he raised a hand to cup his chin in thought. It wasn’t a typical expression of his in the slightest, making it somewhat humorous for Lorenz to absorb as it was certainly a posture he had learned from his far more sinister and speculative counterpart.
Content that Ferdinand would not guess correctly any time soon, Lorenz allowed himself to savor the semi-sweet floral aroma that lingered in the air and on his tongue. It was utterly delicious.
“Is it perhaps someone I know?” Ferdinand inquired, his face screwed up in deep thought.
Lorenz only grinned over the rim of his teacup, remaining mischievously silent as he took yet another sip.
The pout Ferdinand wore was now directed entirely at him reminiscent of a young hound begging for scraps or in this case, a single hint to direct his search.
“I did remind you that it’s a secret, Ferdinand,” Lorenz chuckled. “I couldn’t possibly tell you outright even if you were to guess it.”
“Then I have no choice but to assume that your soulmate is, without a shadow of a doubt, Claude von Riegan!” Ferdinand proudly proclaimed, the frown that had marred his features only moments before melting away.
Lorenz couldn’t help but to sip his tea comically loud as the shock hit him and once he did, he knew that both he and the Leicester Alliance were done for.
“Hah! I knew it! I had known all through our time at the monastery, but it is good to know that my suspicions were correct!” The Adrestian noble preened, smirking victoriously.
“Ferdinand, that wasn’t meant as an omission.” He paused for a beat to place down his teacup lest he drop it, leaving himself more vulnerable to Ferdinand’s gaze which was far more keen and observant than he remembered it to be.
Calming his erratic heartbeat, he tucked back strands of wisteria hair and sighed. He could still play this off as him taking offense at the suggestion.
“You know how I feel about Claude. He’s an opposing Alliance lord and my father distrusts him greatly. To think that he could possibly be my soulmate is nothing less than absurd,” he responded at last, taking no care to conceal his frustration which could only heighten his deception at this point. It made his guts twist to think that not so long ago he spoke of his beloved in such a scornful fashion and to continue to do so now just to cover his tracks.
“Lorenz, my friend, you cannot deny that the evidence lines up perfectly. I can recall the Ethereal Moon Ball when Claude was but the only one to ask for your hand in dance, at least, the only one you accepted. It was on the very next day that you reported the first signs of having bonded with your soulmate, and I know this to be true as my memory is without fail!”
His companion took up his own teacup, full to bursting with pride over his own cleverness. In some ways, Ferdinand von Aegir never changed at all so it would seem.
“There was no need to bring up how poorly I fared in finding a partner that night,” Lorenz conceded with a sigh, utterly defeated. Admittedly, that was a pretty accurate detail of that night however.
“So I am right!”
“Yes, you are correct. Though I do wish you wouldn’t say it so loudly.” He grumbled the sentiment in a rather unbecoming manner, sending a reproachful scowl his way.
“Ah, my mistake. It will not happen again.” With a blush that matched the rosy sweets set upon the tabletop, the fellow nobleman averted his golden gaze away before refocusing upon his companion, a fiery brow raised inquisitively. “But if he is your soulmate, what are you doing here on the battlefield rather than with Claude in Derdriu? Surely you know-”
“I assure you that I am fully aware. That is why you are the first one to know… albeit it was entirely coincidental.”
The impact of his statement silenced Ferdinand for several moments, leaving the ginger sitting dumbly with his cooling tea. But after a while, he found the strength to gather his thoughts, sipping on his tea before setting it down once more, humming in pensive consideration. “Has your father been informed of it?”
There was no need to lie to him any further. “As far as I know, he’s entirely unaware.”
Ferdinand nodded deliberately as a fire began to alight in his orangey eyes. “Then I swear that on my honor, both as your friend and the Prime Minister of the Adrestian Empire that I will not tell a soul a word of what was spoken in confidence between the two of us!”
“That would be greatly appreciated,” Lorenz murmured, relief at long last letting the tension tightly coiled in his shoulders leak out of him, slumping ever so slightly in his seat.
“Worry not, Lorenz! I have not once broke a single promise I have made.”
“I’m not worried about that, Ferdinand. I know you adamantly maintain your noble stance just as I do,” he replied, his thoughts drifting to encompass what had troubled him before he had arrived that morning.
“Then may I trouble you to ask what is on your mind, old friend?” The manner in which the man curiously tilted his head made him seem not dissimilar to an Aegir Hound pup.
“Now that we have the issue of soulmates out of the way…” Lorenz began, straightening himself in his seat, concern plainly written in his pout and the crease of his brow. “I’ve been considering the strenuous task of defeating both the Professor and the Tempest King. Do you think it can be done?”
Ferdinand chuckled, shaking his golden tresses. “We have a strategy in place of course and as well, with the two of us together, we can accomplish anything, can we not?”
He was as confident, as ever it would appear. Though Lorenz couldn’t help but take him at his word.
“Then I suppose my apprehension is misplaced as how could I ever think otherwise when my greatest friend is fighting by my side?” He allowed himself to relish in a chortle of his own.
“Exactly! It will be just as our academy days!”
“That remains to be seen, but if that is the case, I trust that I can leave my life in your capable hands just as I could then.”
“Then you will be in good hands as always, Lorenz, my friend.”
His fondness and trust for the ginger had been unyielding in those peaceful days, in fact, before he had at once point assumed that Ferdinand was to be his soulmate. Nevertheless, his faith in his comrade had not faltered despite them hailing from different factions and being away from one another for several years. It mattered not in the scope of their friendship and Lorenz could do nothing but wholeheartedly believe in his words to his very core. Ferdinand would not let him down, and after this, he would be able to happily return to the Alliance to take up his birthright as Count Gloucester before easily falling back into his soulmate’s arms. His Claude’s arms.
“I suppose I have no choice but to hold you to your promises, but for now, you simply must tell me how you ever managed to court your soulmate. I find myself endlessly curious on the topic,” he easily teased his companion, bringing about the desired effect of coloring Ferdinand’s cheeks, not for the first time today.
“O-Oh, well… it’s not particularly interesting, though I guess I do owe you the story since I know of yours,” Ferdinand utterly, mindlessly twirling a finger through his long, marigold hair.
“Dearest Ferdinand! You can’t possibly expect me to sit here, uninformed and hooked on your tale of romance with nothing to show for it,” he gasped in a rather dramatic fashion.
“Maybe not. That would be cruel wouldn’t it? Hubert wouldn’t mind me telling you about our courtship if it were to stay between the two of us, I believe...” The man mused, before letting the curls wrapped around his finger bounce free with a starry-eyed grin in place. “So I will allow myself to regale you with the details!”
And as the two returned to easily chattering between the two of them, it seemed that nothing had changed between the two of them at all. They were simply two friends laughing together at tea time, rather than two noblemen and soldiers oblivious to the fact that they would soon be marching to their collective doom.
There were merely a couple day’s pause before the Knights of Seiros arrived in Myrddin to the north, but the Imperial army was dutifully prepared to greet them head-on, set in position long before the church’s banner breached the horizon. They would not let them through nor let them take the bridge with ease.
Soon, General Ladislava began barking orders, directing captains and to ready their battalions and stand in their assigned positions, following the plan to the letter. It would prove difficult for their opponent, with their vastly limited forces, to break through the ranks and take the bridge, though not impossible. If Ferdinand had learned anything from his time at the academy, it was that the man they were facing in this war was brutal and relentless. Like a feral animal, he would fight to his last breath, determined to win even if it meant gnawing off his own leg. That was why Ferdinand was here, not simply for glory of it, but to ensure that the beast, this King of Delusion, was not permitted to pass. For if perchance he was allowed to break through, the Empire would lose their foothold in the Alliance and their advantage in the war thus far. If that were to happen, there would be no telling who would rise as the victor in the course of this war. Therefore, Myrddin was indeed the most important strategic location in this war and the Empire had no intention of giving it up or of losing this war.
Both he and Hubert had known the moment the news broke that the newly resurfaced Professor and the Crowned Prince of the former Kingdom had joined forces to take on the whole of the Adrestia army that a victory would be no easy task. It was also possible that despite Ferdinand’s strength and that of his own troops, on top of the added ranks from their Leicester allies, that Ferdinand would fall here regardless of their careful planning. The Professor had the Goddess’ powers at their beck and call, after all.
Such a thing was troublesome at best and meant that regardless of their careful planning in the War Room and on the battlefront, that it was impossible to plan to the last detail what would occur. And if the enemy’s troops managed to succeed and take the bridge, the Empire would need to dispatch troops to stop them immediately.
That is why despite there being others just as strong and sharp as him in the face of battle, Ferdinand was the only choice for the job. For if he were to fall here, his connection with Hubert would alert his partner and then he in turn would alert the Emperor long before either a messenger or a falcon were to reach Enbarr. It would be painful for his lover to endure if it came down to such a thing, but both of them were willing to risk their lives for Her Majesty regardless, though that hadn’t made it any easier to leave.
Ferdinand’s heart clenched as he thought of his departure from Enbarr and the ache concealed beneath Hubert’s veil of indifference. The longing in his yellow-green eyes, even beneath his furrowed brow, was plain as day to him. Hubert did not wish for him to die here and Ferdinand himself did not wish to do so, as it would force Hubert to live out his days in a dour, insipid world without his brilliance to shine through the shadows.
Gripping the shaft of his spear, he set his gaze to the eastern end of the thoroughfare. He could hear the march of hundreds of boots against stone as the invaders crossed the threshold and after several minutes that seemed to drag on into eternity, the enemy leader bellowed his battle cry, an order to his troops, setting in motion things to come. Mere moments later, a deafening roar rang out as Faerghus rebels and what remained of the Knights of Seiros clashed with the defending Imperial troops.
But what truly stuck in Ferdinand’s mind at that moment as the battle whose outcome would determine the fate of the Empire and likely all of Fódlan took place, was not his own mortality nor thoughts of his lover, but anticipation and a renewed eagerness to hold his ground here in Myrddin, the likes of which effortlessly matched his opponent’s. It was all thanks to that cry, that feral, merciless shout; a blunt declaration of Prince Dimitri’s lust for blood and hatred of the Empire and all those that stood for it.
Ferdinand could not let that man pass, it was as simple as that. He was Ferdinand von Aegir, the Prime Minister of Adrestia and both an advisor and loyal servant to the Imperial Emperor, Edelgard, and he would not allow himself to fall here! He would achieve glory by defending the Great Bridge. Instead, it would be their opponent who would fall here, regardless of whether they had the power of the Goddess on their side. The Tempest King and the Ashen Demon would die here long before they could make their way to Enbarr. Her Majesty and his lover were counting on him after all.
The assault on Myrddin began with the banner of the Church wavering in the wind to the west and before long, soldiers were storming the riverside city, moving on to the sturdy, fortress-like structure of the bridge not long after. Their forces were blessedly not nearly as vast as the combined squadrons of Imperial knights and infantry with the added Alliance troops from Gloucester territory and the nearby lands of Lord Acheron. But they did not need numbers, for they had their own forces to be reckoned with, starting with the former Prince Dimitri, who was now a bloodsoaked and feral beast on the battlefield. He was sure to be difficult to handle, especially with the backing of the church. Then again, that didn’t set nerves nearly as high as having to face both he and the Professor at once. Having to face down and defeat the former was bad enough, but with the bloodlust and ferocity of their former classmate coupled with the tactical genius of the Ashen Demon… The difficulty of the upcoming battle didn’t need to be stressed any further, and regardless of their forces being much larger than the invaders, Lorenz would surely be lucky to come out of this battle alive.
He pouted distastefully, staring out across the roiling river as an army of men, horses, and pegasi drew near the gates. He couldn’t make out any faces with the distance, but he was certain that he’d find more than a few familiar ones among their ranks. Thankfully, there was a chance he wouldn’t have to face them at all since he was a part of the reserves. Rather, he’d be standing by awaiting a page from the General, ordering him to join the fray, which may have been a result of Ferdinand’s string-pulling, but Lorenz was no less grateful for it. In the very least, it’d give the Imperial army a chance to weaken the invaders before he entered into combat himself.
Mounting his horse, Lorenz began trotting toward the bridge entrance, prompting his soldiers to follow his lead. Just in the nick of time too, as a messenger came racing up to him, delivering orders from Ladislava. Finally, it was time to prove himself and live up to the glory of House Gloucester, and hopefully carve his place beyond out from under his father’s thumb.
“No survivors.”
That was the one rule that the bloodthirsty beast once known as the Crowned Prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus followed on his conquests. As far as he was concerned, the Empire had ruined his life and taken everything away from him. The Professor knew this well and despite their own and Rodrigue’s best efforts to make clear to him that to take Myriddin they only needed to take out General Ladislava and the Empire’s Prime Minister, Ferdinand von Aegir.
There would be no option for diplomacy in this fight, as neither the Prince nor the Emperor and her vassals would take the opportunity to sit down and discuss their grievances. It was far too late for that. Five years too late. Now was the time for blood.
The enemies of the Empire had planned the assault on Myrddin for weeks with both Rodrigue’s battle experience and Seteth’s knowledge of the bridge’s ancient architecture. Everything was in order for this upcoming fight. Everything was plotted and mapped as best as it could feasibly be to ensure their victory at this stronghold. There were still unknown variables to their plans, but such was war, and such was the fickle mood of their leader, so deeply entrenched in his own regrets and anger.
It wouldn’t be long now until the first blood was drawn.
Deep within Riegan territory, in the water-locked city of Derdriu, the new Duke Riegan and his peers were discussing plans to defend their last stand should the Imperial Army lay siege on the capital. The council is tense, to say the least, as in the past five years since the war began, the Empire has been hungrily devouring territory after territory, making its way across Adrestia and into Faerghus. Now it seemed that the Leicester Alliance was up to bat and the odds weren’t looking all that good.
As various nobles speak over each other in an attempt to be heard, the Duke fondly recalls an eloquent voice that is not present among the others. A warm grin spreads across his lips as he mentally recounts each gracefully penned word in their latest correspondence, retreating from listening to the ceaseless bickering for a time. Those smooth words written in much the same manner as they would have rolled off of his soulmate’s tongue offer him a moment of respite and indulgence, despite the strong words he may have used after his own somewhat inappropriate letter.
He hummed thoughtfully reminiscing upon the last time they met before Count Gloucester pulled his soulmate back to defend his own House months prior.
With stunning clarity, he could recall every word of their common banter and the smooth, silky way that Lorenz’s hair fell in a deep wisteria curtain that he could run his fingers through for a lifetime. That very lifetime he intended to spend with him just as soon as this war was over. He had already claimed him in his heart, after all, his vibrant, technicolor vision was a testament to that. Now he had only to claim him with a ring and whatever ceremonial nonsense was needed to seal the deal and whisk him out of his father’s reach.
Of course, Lorenz would be against it at first, after all, Almyra is certainly a stark change from Fódlan, in practically every way from the language to the culture to the marketplace, but he was certain that his somewhat pretentious lover would endure it and soon change his mind. With time, he might even fall in love with the place and never want to go back.
The Duke chuckled mirthfully as he thought about how he’d introduce the refined noble to his parents and imagined the shock on Lorenz’s face as he took it all in. He couldn’t wait to relish his partner’s reaction as he slipped a hand into his pocket to toggle the fine leather pouch between his fingers, feeling the imprint of the fine silver ring inside.
But his gentle musing was cut short when a wave of dread settled over him as his vision began to fade at the edges, colors muting and growing softer.
“Claude?” Hilda called, having apparently seen the terror settle upon his face.
Something was wrong. Something was happening to Lorenz.
The room fell silent as the other council members turned to gaze upon their leader, but before anything more could be said, Claude was off and out the door with a strong gait toward the stables.
Hilda however was immediately on his tail.
“Claude. Claude! What’s wrong? What’s going on?” She asked, her voice full of concern.
“It’s Lorenz,” he informed her, his agitation clear in his voice. “He needs me.”
“How did you-?” She swallowed her words, hesitating and going silent for a few moments before picking up the pace after him. Her apparent surprise was genuine as now she was finally aware of what was happening.
When Claude and Lorenz had first become aware that they were soulmates, the latter had pleaded with him to keep it a secret, as it would cause nothing but trouble within the Alliance. It’d become a conflict of interest between both House Riegan and House Gloucester and would certainly alight the ire and anger of Lorenz’s father who had despised Claude from the moment he showed up to serve his title.
As promised, he had kept it a secret, though he never ceased his teasing that one day he would announce the truth to all in a cunning, flamboyant display before stealing him away. But now, with only the well-being of his soulmate in mind, the truth was forced from him to his trusted friend and General, but it did not quell her concern.
Gradually, the graying of his vision began to crawl steadily inward igniting even more urgency than before.
If only the stables were closer.
If only Lorenz had elected to go against his father’s wishes and stay here in Derdriu, by his side where he belonged, where he could keep him safe.
If only he had tried harder to keep Lorenz from leaving.
The ‘if onlys’ began to pile up as he hurried to the stables and flung open the door of his wyvern’s stall as he began to tack the beast to ride. He didn’t even bother with going back in to get his armor. This was too urgent and he didn’t want to waste any more time than he had already in order to get to his soulmate.
He could feel Hilda’s sympathetic gaze on him as he snatched up his bow and quiver, strapping them to his back, though noting that the golden stag emblem that marked his quiver was beginning to lose its vibrance drastically. She didn’t have to say anything for him. He knew what she was thinking because the logical part of his brain was thinking the same thing.
“Myrddin. He’s gotta be at Myrddin. If I can get Niveus off the ground I should be able to get there within an hour if we go at top speed,” Claude assured her, without offering her a single glance, though from the way his gut ached when he said it, it was more to assure himself that he’d make it there in time.
“Claude…” Hilda uttered more softly, sympathy filling that one word to the brim.
It was difficult to keep his hands from trembling as he grasped Niveus’s saddle, the snow-white wyvern gently extending its wings, ready to take flight. At his attempt to reassure her once more that all would be well, however, his words only came out as a choked gasp as the last of this world’s lively colors faded to muted, depressing shades of gray.
It was already too late and Lorenz was gone, taking a piece of him, larger than he knew, in his wake. But he had known in the beginning that this was one of the many possible fates Lorenz would find in taking his father’s place in battle because even if the Empire won their campaign at long last, war was still a cruel, unforgiving mistress taking all and showing mercy to none.
Without any conscious thought, Niveus’s reigns slipped from his grasp and he fell to his knees in the dirt and hay underfoot, a piece of him now snatched away forever that he’d never get back. He could hardly bring himself out of his stupor to register the set of arms wrapping around him, the weight on his heart and of the ring in his pocket far too great to notice much of anything else as he hung his head in utter despair.
If only he had made the effort before to spend as much time as he could with his lover. Five years he had squandered and wasted -- five years -- waiting for Lorenz to be ready without even mentioning or taking the first step to claim him as his own. And now, it was too late.
“He’s gone, Hilda,” he managed to say, though to his own years, it sounded like a strained croak, but it was far better than what he meant to say, which was, “He’s gone, because I didn’t say or do the things I meant to do. He’s gone because of me.”
In the end, however, it took all he had not to break down right there, longing for the color to return to his sight, or if not, simply for the color purple like the amethyst gems polished to a fine shine on the trinket that lay in his pocket, too heavy to bear. But it had faded with the love of his life, swept away like the faraway winds of his homeland, though one could say he could reach those once more. His soulmate on the other hand, he’d never hold again.
Hubert had never thought it would happen like this. And on a sunny spring day with the perfume of newborn flowers lingering on the breeze, the likes of whose colors he would never see again as his vision faded to morose shades of monotone gray.
Without thought, he stepped away from his bureau to look out upon the whole of Enbarr, peering down upon the gardens below as many leagues away, the life that had once brought him so much wonder and light into the shadows that he seemed to be bound to, withered away. Tears did not spring to his eyes nor did he make a sound as he was slowly engulfed in anguish. They would not change anything anyhow and he had to carry on with a clear head if he wanted Lady Edelgard’s campaign to succeed, though now he had more reason to carry on.
Ferdinand...
My beloved Ferdinand…
His sacrifice would not be forgotten nor would it be for not. Not if he had anything to say about it.
And as the last amber marigold faded to gray among the muted shades of his new existence, Hubert turned his back on the scene, striding with purpose to report back to Her Highness and revise their plans for a renewed war effort against the Lion in the coming bitter months.
But then, any span of time without Ferdinand in a world as dark as his own would surely leave a bitter taste that he would never grow accustomed to and yet he’d be forced to endure it for the rest of his life. A life devoid of color without the sunkissed light of day within the shadows.
Nonetheless, he had a duty to fulfill and if he had to stop to catch his breath and collect his thoughts propped up against a cool stone wall on the way, then so be it.