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Imperial Year 1185 ➳ Flayn
(Derdriu fell and the burgeoning league of nobles known as the Leicester Alliance was disbanded. Annexation by the Empire had gone... surprisingly smooth, almost as if it was meant to happen. Of course, it didn't go without some problems. People are complicated, especially when morals and loyalties are involved.
Ordelia and Gloucester were the first to give in and together, the two houses led much of the transition. House Riegan was no more and Edmund easily conceded once they realized there was no point in fighting. All that remained was Goneril which had long been the strength of the Alliance. Holst Goneril was no fool. Even he could see that he was against all odds and he would have to give in. They knew this at their last Roundtable meeting, when Claude had gathered them all together for their final meeting and explained their options.
This isn't the Alliance's war. If Derdriu falls, they give in to the Empire. Resisting would destroy their lands, lead to suffering, and despair. They'd done well for five years, protecting their neutrality. They'd held their own for so long that their territories had become sanctuaries for those fleeing the war's destruction. He'd thanked Goneril for protecting their borders and Edmund for helping with the financial burden of taking in so many refugees. He'd thanked Ordelia for helping them save as many people as they could and he'd even thanked Gloucester for all of his support balancing these extra responsibilities.
Wouldn't it be a shame if all of their efforts went to waste because of something like pride? As nobles, their duties were to the people. Protect them. Evacuate Derdriu, prepare for battle, lure the Empire in deeply to avoid widespread casualty and destruction and if that isn't enough... If Derdriu falls... protect the people. Surrender. As the Alliance's leader, he would either die in battle or step down and in turn, the duty would fall on Gloucester to lead the others through what happened next.
But the empire had killed his sister. They'd killed Hilda. And Holst wasn't going to let that go easily. Gloucester and the other nobles had tried to reason with him and little by little, he'd begun to relent.
This was fine. The Empire didn't have to worry about Goneril who would inevitably give in. Edelgard wasn't a cruel Emperor nor was Byleth Eisner. They would led the Duke grieve. His lands were the furthest from the Empire and would take time to assimilate anyway. In the meantime, they would move on to crushing the Church and the Kingdom.)
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The truth is... (There's the briefest hesitation,) I'm not from Fodlan. I was born and raised here, in Almyra.
(And he lets that sit for a moment. Claude von Riegan. Duke Riegan of the former Leicester Alliance. Who would have thought, he would be Almyran? He'd attended the Officer's Academy which had been established because of threats from Almyra. He'd gone to school with Holst Goneril's sister. For five years, he'd helped protect a part of Fodlan and its people from war.
But he was the enemy all along. The other enemy. Barbaric, wild, boorish, not worthy of anyone's trust, a menace.
He knew what people thought. )
My mother is from the Alliance. A long time ago, she crossed Fodlan's Throat and came to be with my father and never looked back.
(Which explained the Crest he bore, the undeniable proof of the Fodlan blood that flowed through his veins.)
Pretty romantic, right? An Alliance noble falling in love with the enemy of her nation, who would have imagined that? (It's a popular cliche in literature. Two lovers from different stations, different nations, or different circumstances.) Not many people would do what she did-- not many people have.
When I came around... most people didn't know what to do with me. So they did what most people do when they don't understand something. Ignore it and hope it goes away.
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But it's one thing to read about it in the book, and quite another to live it.
And from what he's saying, while it might have been romantic for the two of them, the reality of it is that there's much more to consider than just the relationship between the two of them. He's lived his whole life in the shadow of his parents' relationship, and he's faced difficulty on both sides because of it.]
...that sounds so lonely.
[Her voice is very soft.]
I am sorry, Claude. I had no idea.
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(To tell the truth, he hadn't even realized it was lonely at the time. It was all he knew growing up. The feeling he felt at the time was normal and hardly worth noting. It wasn't until he came to Fodlan, met the Golden Deer, and fought with them that he'd begun to realize... his situation had become different. Realizing he was no longer alone made him realize he'd been alone before. And... this is only a realization he'd come to terms with very recently.
A realization he'd come to far too late in some cases.
Badira dips slightly, lining herself with a stream of air, spreading her speed picking up along with it. The motion is enough to snap Claude from his thoughts and he continues,)
Almyra. Fodlan. In this world, there are preconceptions. Fodlanders are weak. Almyrans are beasts. But if you asked, you would find that not many Fodlanders know any Almyrans, and most Almyrans haven't met any Fodlanders. And yet, they seem to know each other well enough to look down on the other.
We live in a world where people are defined by where they're from, the families they're born into, the burdens they inherited, the Crests they bear... Is it really living when everything is decided from the moment you're born?
(It's there that his dream begins to intersect with Edelgard's. He'd had a plan to make his drams come true and then...
He sighs.)
Leave it to a war to throw off everything.
(Edelgard really got in the way.)
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She closes her eyes and imagines it.
There's Claude, of course. And then there's Cyril, and - Dedue and Petra, as well. Duscur and Brigid aren't Almyra, but the way people spoke of them, and the difficulties they'd faced at the monastery simply for being different...
Flayn finds it somewhat hard to understand. She'd liked them all well enough, having gotten to know them.
But that's what Claude is getting at, isn't it? When you get to know people - really get to know them... you see they aren't actually all that different from you at all, at their core. What he wants is to bridge that gap, and to make a world where people aren't constrained by the circumstances of their birth.
What a beautiful dream.]
War... tends to create more problems than it solves, I believe.
[Although sometimes it's necessary, she's going to struggle to believe that this war is.]
But I am glad to hear that you have plans to achieve your dreams despite what is happening now.
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(He isn't so sure. There are things he's willing to do to achieve his dream. He would stop at nothing to make those dreams come true. But through war, though? He hadn't expected his dream to come true easily and he'd always been prepared to fight for it-- even get his hands dirty-- but war felt like too much.
Red was never his color. Edelgard on the other hand...
He's quiet. What he doesn't tell Flayn now is that his plans involve working with Edelgard. Flayn is smart though, surely she'll figure it out if she hasn't already.
Give up in Fodlan, return to Almyra, reclaim his right, and when Fodlan was ready or when Edelgard needed him... he would reach out. That time would surely come. It was why Edelgard and Byleth had let him go. He could help them in the future. )
I'm not giving up on it just because I've lost Fodlan. My dream is bigger than that and as long as I'm alive, I'll keep working toward it.
(Because he's alive. He can live another day and every day is one more day to make his dreams come true.)
I'll be back someday. I'm not finished with it yet. And if you want... you're welcome to come, too.
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[Because, he's right. She's not stupid. For him return and continue working toward his dream is going to require some degree of cooperation with Edelgard, considering how the war has turned out. And if Claude turns up with her at his side, then...
Well, she can't imagine it would turn out all that well, considering that Edelgard started a war to free Fódlan from the Church, and from people like her.
The fact that he's giving her safe passage to Almyra, and allowing her to stay there, is certainly going to make that more complicated... unless something changes in the coming years. And who's to say that it won't? But Flayn has no intention of making things more difficult for him simply because she wants to return home. It would be selfish, and his dream is going to be difficult enough to achieve already, even removing remnants of the Church from the equation.]
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(They'll have to see what the future has planned for them.
Fortunately for them, at this time of year, the days aren't too warm and up in the air, everything feels a little cooler anyway. Still, they've been flying for some time. The ground below them has begun to change from rocky mountains patched with snow and evergreen valleys to something gentler-- rolling forest steppes, mostly plains peppered with smaller forests. The land grows flatter, they pass fewer woods, the trees become shorter and more spread out. The land is becoming sparser.
They also begin to fly over their first few settlements. At first, they're small mountain villages or fortress towns, not unlike the ones that make up Goneril territory or some of the villages around Garreg Mach. They fly over one city, in particular. It's large, built along the river, and given its obviously an important location of some sort-- the capital of this particular province, in fact. There is a large palace and a grand temple of some sort in the very center. Blue seems to be the city's color-- the buildings are painted in different shades of blue and gardens built around large springs and fountains. The city is lively, in the late morning hours... and they fly right by it.
He guides Badira, following the river beyond the city and they start to make their descent. They pass by a small herding village of some sort and the locals all look up when the wyvern's shadow flies over. A group of children jump and wave Claude raises a hand in a friendly greeting. They're still too high up to make out any features but there's nothing wrong with saying hello.
They fly beyond the village and a little while longer and eventually land near the river a good distance away.
He hops down from the wyvern and inhales sharply. Hmm, he should have just climbed down. His injuries still hurt too much to be skipping around carelessly. He recovers quickly though, almost as if nothing had happened at all, and turns to help Flayn down,)
Time for a break. I don't know about you two but I'm famished.
(They left far too early in the morning to really get a real breakfast before leaving. His own presence was a secret too so it's not like they could wake up any of the cooks to make a proper meal. Badira lets out a roar. She is, indeed, hungry.)
Holst arranged some things for us to eat. What do you think? Not a bad place for a picnic, right?
(They're rest for a few hours before resuming.)
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Flayn hadn't had any idea what to expect of Almyra. Her perspective of it has been colored by the information she's been able to get within Fódlan's borders - books (certainly not written by Almyrans), the stories of soldiers who have fought against the Almyrans, Cyril's accounts of his life before Rhea...
Once they get further into the country, the scenery isn't the same as what she's used to, but it's beautiful in its own way. She watches with wide eyes, taking in all the new, unfamiliar sights and committing them to memory. The city they pass over is especially breathtaking, and she finds herself twisting a little to look back at the architecture until it vanishes from sight.
She'd like to see more of it, but - there will be time for that later. Claude's already doing more than she could ever have asked of him just by bringing her here at all; she's not going to ask for a detour.
When they start to make their descent, she brings up a hand to cover a yawn. She's exhausted from lack of sleep, but she doesn't want to rest yet. Instead, she forces herself to focus on her surroundings - the children they fly over (she waves back), the river they're landing near, and Claude himself as he hops down.
She catches that intake of breath, and then the way he recovers. When he helps her down, she's very careful not to lean on him too much.]
A picnic would be nice. Although, I am certain that you would enjoy it more if you were uninjured. [She looks up at him.] Will you allow me to do that much for you, at least?
[It's what her abilities are for, after all. What good is she, if she can't ease the pains of the people around her?]
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(So she'd noticed, huh? He must be tired to have let that slip.)
I'm fine. (He insists, his tone even and careful. One might really think he's, well, actually okay. He's a natural liar.) It's nothing a little bit of rest won't take care of.
(He's heard about Flayn's healing. She was a natural, right? She was something of a miracle worker for the Knights and their allies. Really, Claude didn't understand it completely. He'd never had much talent for magic and any power that relied on Fodlan's faith was... foreign to him in more than one sense.
... But this would be a good chance to see her skill for himself, wouldn't it? And honestly, it would be a good idea to make sure he was in his best condition before returning to those grand halls.
It's actually Badira that acts next. She spreads her wings and lets out a screechy whine. One might think she was disagreeing with her master. Or maybe she's just hungry. That's how he chooses to interpret it at least and he starts to undo one of the packs on her back. He hands Flayn a wrapped basket-- their provisions for the first day.)
Take this. It isn't too heavy for you, is it? (And he'll undo a hunter's bag next. ) I'll take care of Badira first. You go ahead and start eating.
(She really, really should rest, he thinks.)
It won't take long.
(And really, it doesn't! From the sack, he feeds Badira some rabbits which she devours quickly and he leads her over towards the river's edge so he can wash his hands and water her. She's a tame wyvern and can mostly be left alone from there so he returns to Flayn, removing his gloves and setting them down next to him.)
What did he pack us?
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But it's the fact that she didn't get any sleep last night that keeps her from arguing with him. Instead, she resolves to do it while they're flying. What's he going to do, push her off Badira's back to stop her from healing him?
...although Badira seems to have her own thoughts on the matter. It might be a coincidence, but that roar right after his denial certainly sounds like a rebuke, and it makes the corners of Flayn's lips twitch into the beginnings of a very, very faint smile. It doesn't quite reach her eyes and it doesn't linger for very long, but it's there for a brief instant.
You tell him, Badira.]
This is not too heavy. [She has to readjust her hold on it, though. It's not too heavy, but her limbs are already heavy with exhaustion, so it just takes a second. She's quick to unwrap the basket and get things set up while he's taking care of his wyvern, and by the time he returns, he should be able to just plop down and eat.
As for what Holst has for them...]
He made sure that we would eat well.
[This is their first day's provisions, so it's a little fresher than the food that they'll have to keep stored until later in their journey. There are sandwiches made from Derdriu-style fried pheasant and cheese, a red turnip salad, and a trio of sweet buns. The pastries themselves are a little clumsily made, as though they were prepared by someone who doesn't normally make sweets.
It's a little bittersweet, really. Flayn can recall seeing Hilda eat some of these dishes at the monastery, when they would end up in the dining hall together - did she like them because she would eat them with Holst, or did Holst prepare them because she liked them?
Claude might know, but it feels intrusive to ask, so she doesn't.]
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He's a good man.
(So of course he would make sure they were taken care of. It's a shame that they hadn't had many opportunities to speak to each other before. Outside of the Roundtable meetings, they'd only spoken twice: Once so he could ask Holst to meet with Nader and again at Hilda's funeral-- he chooses to count the times before, during, and after as the same meeting. They were certainly brief enough.
... It's bittersweet to think about. Even the food tastes of it because like Flayn had guessed, these had been some of Hilda's favorites.
Instead of dwelling on the past though, he focuses on the present and the future,)
So what do you think? A pretty nice flight so far, right? (From mountains to hills to plains to rural villages to a magnificent city to more villages of a different kind.) From here, it's mostly plains and desert... so not much to see.
(The uneventful leg of their journey, to be honest.)
... Any new questions so far?
(About the things they've seen. The places they're going. Over lunch is a good time to talk, he thinks, as he begins to help himself.)
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[She'd known him even less than Claude had (she only really knew him from Hilda's stories about him, before, and then the brief amount of time they'd hidden in his lands before setting out on this journey), and even she could tell that.
Flayn hopes he'll be well. He likely will be - there's no one hiding in his territory now that could pose a political problem for the Empire, so surely Edelgard has no reason to be rough with him... right? Not if he's surrendering, anyway.
She looks down at her sandwich, mulling it over. She does have questions, of course; who couldn't, after what they've seen so far?]
...the city we passed over before... what is it called? From what I could see of the buildings, the architecture seemed breathtaking.
[It had surprised her a little - she wasn't expecting to see a city like that in Almyra. Although, she probably shouldn't have expected anything. How could she have any expectations, when she has no real knowledge of the country to form them?]
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(Aspandana City in Aspandana Province. Between a bite of his sandwich, he begins to open a bottle water for them,)
It's where all of the soldiers gather before splitting off to the different fortress towns in the area. Or the place where all of the soldiers go to after finishing their rounds. ("The place where the soldiers gather" was hot it had earned its name. ) It doesn't look like a military city though, right? That's because it used to be the old capital before it moved west, away from Fodlan. It's still held onto a lot of that old prestige and wealth. A lot of the old generals retire there and end up becoming poets and gardeners, hah.
(Becoming a flourishing city at the edge of a desert, safely guarded by all of the fortresses and soldiers in the area. It was something of a haven for anyone in the border villages caught up in skirmishes and such.
It won't take them too long to finish eating!! It's not a fancy meal or anything like that and Claude stretches his arms up high and winces again. Oof, shouldn't have stretched like that. He also knows Flayn has probably seen so without really looking at her he speaks mildly,)
Still wanna check me out?
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[Flayn repeats the city's name once, committing it to memory. It sort of rolls off the tongue - there's something almost melodic about it. She smiles very, very faintly; even in a situation like this, it's nice to be able to learn something new.]
I see - the former capital. That explains the building that looked almost like a palace, then...
[She'd still sort of like to explore it, but they most certainly don't have time for that. There will be other cities, she's sure. Perhaps not right there on the riverside, but - they must be out there.
Once they finish eating, Flayn starts to clear away some of their things and gets the things they can keep packed up again; the motion of Claude's stretching catches her eye, though, and she doesn't miss the way he winces. He must realize that, because he speaks, and she nods once, decisively.]
Yes. There is no sense in continuing to make this journey with wounds, if there is something that can be done about it.
[She scoots a little closer to him, then gestures at him.]
Please allow me to see them.
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which I've now decided is his Alliance outfit.When he finally gets down to the last layer, he pulls back the blouse to reveal... a bandages wrapped around his chest and under that, a large, jagged wound. It's not nearly as bad as it was before-- he'd been tended to immediately and he's had practically a month to heal. It helps that his Crest of Riegan allows him to heal himself at times but it's mild and hardly has any control over it. The area around is darkly bruised, some places worse than others.
The Sword of the Creator had struck him across the front and the attack had been enough to bring him down from the air. He'd been healed immediately after but with how uneven the wound was and how rushed he'd been to make his escape, there's still some work to be desired. It doesn't help that it's a sensitive area, one that aches for a long time even after it's been healed. That's really the part that seems to be causing him the most discomfort. The injury is bad but nothing he can't handle on his own; it's the location that seems to be inconveniencing him the most. Sitting up, standing straight, moving his arms, turning... any movement is bound to ache. )
... How's it look?
(Nearby, the white wyvern returns from the water's edge and lingers nearby, head bowed down and wings tucked back. The battle had been difficult for her, too, and as surely as Claude feels responsible for what happened, so does she.)
I didn't really give Lysithea much of a chance...
(He'd sent her away almost as soon as she'd arrived. ... Something he regrets now that he thinks about it. Sure, she wasn't much of a healer to begin with but he'd almost immediately sent her off to meet with Edelgard and Byleth to start negotiations without him as planned. )
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It looks bad.
[The words themselves are a little blunt, but her tone of voice is more gentle and concerned than anything else. Her expression is much the same - there's still traces of exhaustion in it that can't be fully wiped out, but concern is at the forefront. It's healed well enough for the amount of time that has passed, and considering that Claude most certainly hasn't been resting as someone who was hurt so badly ought to, but still.
It makes her stone heart ache to see it. But she can do something about it, can't she? Her power exists to ease others' pain.
So, taking a breath, she gets right to work.
What this magic really does is stimulate the body's natural healing process. It encourages his skin to knit together, to smooth itself over and (hopefully) not leave too obvious a scar; it sinks under his skin, soothing the aches and pains of his bruises, lightening them up. As she works, her own Crest activates - that, hopefully, will help.
Flayn will keep at it for as long as he lets her, heedless of the fact that her exhaustion is threatening to overtake her. She ignores the way her hands tremble from time to time, and the way her vision is a little blurry at the edges. She can do this. She has to do this.
...but she only has so much magical energy; much of it was used on Seteth the night before, and she's recovered some on their journey so far, but she's not in tip-top shape. It's not perfect, but hopefully, it will be enough to ease the rest of his way back to Almyra.]
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Leaning back on the palms of his hands, he braces himself as he waits for her to get to work,)
That bad, huh?
(Of course, he knew that much already. He's lucky to be alive. It's only because Byleth and Edelgard showed him mercy in Derdriu that he was able to escape with his life.
He lets her work and allows himself a moment to rest under her care. He dislikes relying on others but he knows better than to resist a healer at work. There's an initial discomfort as the magic settles in, getting to work, bringing skin together, closing, and physically repairing itself but there's the dulling that comes from it too, cool like ice but not as harsh.
Magic really is something, he thinks. He's never had much of a talent for it. Manuela had barely managed to get a healing spell out of him at the academy and Hanneman was impressed if he could summon enough wind to turn the pages in a book. Nothing wrong with that. Magic isn't for everyone and he'd joked that he had to be bad at something when he was already so good at everything else.
He watches Flayn, noting the way her hands shake from time to time. He's seen this before. There were times when Marianne gave too much of herself to others, pushing herself too far. There were times when Lysithea, exhausted from using her spells in battle, tried to be useful after and heal the injured.
Flayn is exhausted. And like Marianne and Lysithea, she would push through it. He's the same when it comes to other things and it's for that reason, he's always let them go just a little further. Even now, he says nothing at first. He gives her a few moments and when her hands start to tremble... he reaches to take one of her hands in his own)
Thank you. ("That's enough.") I feel better... much better.
(It's the truth. Looking down at his chest, he can see the visible difference. He won't mention her exhaustion. She wouldn't like that, would she? She might even insist she's fine... and he'd rather she didn't lie.)
This should hold until we get to the Rhages.
(The first time he's mentioned the capital by name.
He gives her hand a squeeze and a gentle tug to sit by him,)
But for now, we rest. All of us.
(Badira, too. He'll let her hand go soon too so he can at least put his blouse back on. It's warm enough that he doesn't actually need the outer part coat.)
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But she finds herself yawning, despite herself, and shakes her head slowly. Ugh.]
...very well.
[She doesn't want to sleep. She really, really doesn't want to sleep, but when Claude tugs on her hand she goes easily, settling down to sit next to him. She's only vaguely aware of him letting go to tug his clothes back on.
Not having a task to focus on has brought her exhaustion back to the forefront. She can feel her eyelids getting heavy, and isn't able to keep herself from yawning again.]
Do not be surprised... if...
[Her voice trails off before she can finish the warning, and... She's out.
She will remain out for the next couple of days, not even waking to eat or drink. Oops. Catch her once they get to Rhages.]
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... But she doesn't wake up when he does. Again, he doesn't think too much about it and just packs everything and carries her over to Badira who crouches down low to the ground to let him on with her. She sleeps through the evening and is still asleep when they land for the night. It's one thing to sleep a whole day, especially after how exhausting the previous one had been. It's something else when she sleeps the entire next day and when they land again, he can't help but really begin to worry. She seems fine as far as he can tell, noting her temperature and pulse but... this isn't normal and he urges his wyvern to fly faster.
They land a half-day earlier than they were supposed to, landing at night instead of morning. There are people there to greet him but there's no time for catching up or really explaining why he's carrying a young girl in his arms. He asks for a doctor or a healer and explains he doesn't really know what's wrong but she just won't wake up...)