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1.
“C’mon, Lin!” Caspar’s feet pounded on the wet grass, sending droplets of dew and flecks of mud flying back off his heels. “C’mon, hurry up!”
Linhardt groaned. “Caspar, wait for me…”
“You’re too slow!” He spun to face Linhardt, bouncing on his bare feet, unable to keep still for even a moment. He grinned, showing off the gap in his teeth where he’d lost one the day before. “C’mooon – it’s been raining for three days straight. I've been so bored!”
“I kind of liked the rain.”
“Of course you did,” Caspar huffed. “You got to sit inside reading boring old books all day.”
“They’re not boring.”
“Maybe not to you.” He grasped Linhardt’s wrists, excited tugging on them. “You gotta see how high the lake is. It flooded the southern dock and now a bunch of the big trees near the shore are close enough that you can jump in from the branches.”
“If I come home all wet, my father will be upset with me,” Linhardt sighed. “You go swimming. I’ll just watch you from the grass.”
Caspar rolled his eyes. “You’ll fall asleep and you know it. And then I’ll just be playing all by myself. That’s no fun. C’mon, Lin – let’s see who can climb that tree by the water the fastest, huh?”
“The branches will be all wet from the rain.” He stared down at his boots, yawning as he lifted one to inspect the sole. “My shoes are already all muddy.”
“So take ‘em off!”
“Fine…” Linhadrt plopped down on the driest patch of grass he could find, tugging off his boots. Barely a moment after he set them down, Caspar snatched them away and ran off toward the lake. “CASPAR!”
“You gotta come get me if you want them back, Lin!”
Linhardt was on his feet again, racing after him, forgetting about the mud seeping between his toes. “Caspar, give them back!”
“I will if you catch me!”
Caspar was true to his word, but not before both of them wound up covered in mud from head to toe, laughing as they collapsed in the wet grass.
2.
“Aw man, look at us! Officially members of the Black Eagles at the Garreg Mach Officers’ Academy!” Caspar had a wide grin stretching across his face and a gleam in his eye as he watched Linhardt carefully stack his collection of books on the shelf of his dormitory room. “How many books did you bring, Lin? You know they have a whole library here.”
“A library under the jurisdiction of the Church of Seiros,” Linhardt corrected. “They wanted a list of all the books I planned on bringing. This is only about half of what I was hoping to keep with me.”
“Half?” Caspar squawked. “Geez, Lin, how could one person even read all these? It’d take a whole lifetime, nevermind being able to do it before we graduate.”
Linhardt just hummed in half-hearted acknowledgement, putting the last book on the shelf and standing to stretch his back. “Have you already unpacked?” he asked. “You weren’t gone very long before you came down here.”
Caspar shrugged. “I unpacked my clothes and stuff. Didn’t have much to do other than that since I didn’t bring my own personal library. Besides, I wanted to check out the training grounds! I just got a glimpse of all the weapons they had there! There’s this one axe I’m dying to get my hands on-“
“The large axe in the training hall? I saw it. It looked almost as big as you are.” He snorted. “I wonder if you could even lift it.”
“I can totally lift it! Not only that, but I can swing it too! I’ll show you – come on! Let’s go!”
Linhardt stifled a yawn. “All that unpacking wore me out. You go on. I want to grab a nap.”
“Aw, Linhardt, come on – look where we are!” He grabbed Linhardt by the hands tugging him out of the dormitory onto the grass. “This is Garreg Mach! It’s full of all sorts of historical stuff that you’d go crazy for! Don’t you want to go check out the library or the cathedral or-“
“It’s been here for almost a thousand years. It’ll still be here after I get some sleep.”
Caspar frowned, seeming to have no plans to let him go. “Oh no, I’m not letting you sleep away the whole day when we’ve got so much exploring to do before our classes start! At least come to the dining hall with me! We gotta meet everyone!”
“Fine,” Linhardt sighed. “I guess I am a little hungry…”
“Yeah! That’s the spirit! C’mon, I’ll race ya there!”
“I never agreed to that.”
“Too late!”
“Caspar-“
Finally letting go of Linhardt’s hands, he was off, sprinting across the courtyard. “Last one there has to do a hundred push-ups!”
As Linhardt watched him go, he managed a smile before turning and walking the opposite direction. “The dining hall is this way…oh well. He’ll figure it out soon enough.”
3.
Caspar’s battle cry rang out across the training field, sending a flock of birds flapping toward the horizon as he leapt towards his target, gauntlets glinting in the sunlight. The knight dodged to the right, turning and catching him in the shoulder blade with the hilt of his axe.
“Caspar-“ Byleth called. “You’re out. Again.”
“Aw, come on! I was just getting started!”
The knight extended a hand to help him up. “You were reckless,” he said. “If this hadn’t been a training exercise, you would have been dead. You’d do well to listen to your professor when you’re given a command to stay in formation.”
“Why you’re so eager to jump right into the fray, I’ll never know,” Linhardt sighed. “Personally, I’m perfectly content being ordered to stay back and support from the rear.”
“Yeah, well you’re a mage. You’re studying healing magic and warp spells. It makes sense, but I’m studying to be a war master! I need to hit things!”
“You should be careful what you wish for,” the knight told him sternly. “It’s only fools who hope for war.”
Caspar shrunk back, looking sheepish as he removed his gauntlets to stretch his fingers and shoulders. “I never said I wanted a war. Just…you know…these training exercises…they’re so much more helpful for honing my fighting skills than sparring in the training grounds. I want to take full advantage of that. I can't learn to protect people just by roughing up training dummies.” He turned to Byleth. “Professor, please give me another shot. Don’t bench me for the rest of the exercise!”
“If you stay in formation,” Byleth said, “I’d rather you finish out the battle.”
“Hoorah!” Caspar cried, punching the air with one outstretched fist before donning his gauntlets again. “You got it, Professor! Put me in there!”
Byleth turned to Linhardt next. “You stay right where you are in the rear.”
“I thought you might say that,” Linhardt said with an easy smile. “And I’ll do what I can to rein him in. As much as that’s possible.”
4.
Five years was enough time for them to grow used to many things.
Sleepless nights, food shortages, endless training. It became normal. Their normal. They could function on three hours of fitful sleep, could choke down flavorless soup when their supply lines suffered and their rations wore thin, could power through sore muscles and ride the edge of their bodies’ limits.
But one thing that Caspar could never get used to was the pit that opened in his stomach when he saw an enemy soldier going for Linhardt on the battlefield.
“Get down!”
He threw himself past Linhardt, bringing his axe down against the enemy’s shoulder, feeling bones crack and blood spatter against his armor before they fell. He stood there, panting as he pulled his axe free again, turning to face his friend. “Are you alright?”
“Alive,” Linhardt breathed. “We should move.”
Caspar nodded. “This way – come on.”
They cut through the underbrush, the sound of fighting echoing through the forest. Smoke burned their nostrils and lungs, mixing with the metallic scent of blood and making Linhardt want to gag.
“Stay behind me,” Caspar insisted, axe poised at the ready. But Linhardt moved closer, pressing his hand against Caspar’s arm. “What are you doing?”
“There’s a crack in your armor,” Linhardt said plainly, looking a bit pale. “You’re bleeding.”
“Arrow caught me a ways back. It’s nothing.”
But Linhardt was already pressing his palm to the wound, ignoring the blood that stained his skin when he did. Magic glowed around his nimble fingers, sending a tingle across the surface of Caspar’s skin under his armor as his flesh knit together again.
“If you’re going to be set on protecting me from anymore attacks,” Linhardt told him, “I can at least do my part to make sure you don’t fall before we make it out of this.”
Caspar nodded as Linhardt wiped his hand off on his stained and tattered robes. “Right. Don’t worry – we’re gonna be alright.”
5.
“C’mon Linhardt, hurry up!” Caspar was beaming back at him, lit up from behind by the orange glow of the setting sun. He extended a hand for Linhardt, beckoning him forward to the top of the hill. “You’ve got to see this view. Hurry, before the sunset is over!”
“We’ve got time,” Linhardt sighed as he followed close behind, taking Caspar’s hand and letting him help him up over the steep crest of the hill. “We have seen plenty of sunsets after all.”
“This one is special.”
“Why?”
“Cause we’re watching it together!”
Linhardt wanted to roll his eyes. He truly did. But Caspar’s grin was so infectious and genuine that he couldn’t help but do anything other than match it with a smile of his own. “You’re really a sap sometimes, do you know that?”
Caspar never let go of his hand, leading him to a soft patch of grass with a clear view of the horizon. They could see the monastery below, bathed in orange and pink from the setting sun, and it was truly beautiful. A moment of perfect calm in the midst of chaos.
“I can see why you wanted to come out here,” Linhardt admitted. “It really is beautiful.”
“Would be a perfect place for a nap sometime, don’t you think?”
“Mm…you know me too well.”
He let himself lean down onto Caspar’s shoulder, not closing his eyes quite yet. A nap did sound lovely, but the view was so beautiful that he didn’t want to miss a bit of it. Caspar glanced down athim. “Hey…Linhardt?”
“Mmhm?”
“Do you think this war will end soon?”
Linhardt sighed. “I certainly hope so. I’m almost getting used to seeing blood on a regular basis, and I don’t quite like the feeling.”
“What do you think you’re gonna do? When all this is over and we’re free to live our own lives…Do you think you’ll go back home?”
“No, I don’t think so. There’s nothing waiting for me there other than a life full of meaningless titles and a line of boring suitors hoping to bear my…how did Sylvain put it years ago? Crest baby.”
Caspar snorted. “Crest babies, huh?”
“I think I’d much rather do something that actually interests me. Perhaps my crest research won’t be of much significance in peace time, but surely I can find other applications for it. And I’d like to see more of Fódlan too.”
Caspar was silent for a long several moments, staring out at the horizon with a glint in his eye, lost in thought. “I want to see as much as I can. I want to travel, even beyond Fódlan. To Brigid, and Dagda, and maybe even Almyra. But…I don’t want to do that alone.”
“We could see it together,” Linhardt offered.
“You think?”
“We’ve been together long enough.” His hand found Caspar’s over his knee. "No reason to part ways after the war is over."
Linhardt glanced up at him, catching his eye. “I’d like that,” Caspar said quietly. “Linhardt, I…”
Instead of waiting for Caspar to say what he had known for a long time yet, Linhardt leaned up and pressed their lips together. Softly, gently, as easy as breathing. He felt himself light up like the rosy orange sky stretched out in front of them.
When he pulled away they held each other’s gaze for a long, silent moment before Linhardt said, “Let’s make it to the end of this war together.”
“Yeah,” Caspar replied with a nod.
6.
The spear through his stomach knocked the wind out of him, sending Caspar to his knees, his vision swimming. He never saw the soldier that launched the weapon at him, but he supposed it didn’t matter. As he stared at the hilt of it, buried in his torso just under his ribs, he knew with chilling clarity that this was where the war ended.
For him, if not for Fódlan.
He looked up, spotting a shock of dark green hair not far off. He’d been so close to reaching him when the spear had caught him. So distracted he hadn’t seen it coming.
He’d come this far. He wasn’t going to abandon Linhardt now.
It was no easy task, crawling along the dirt on his side with a spear through his guts, fingers digging into the mud and pulling himself, inch by inch, toward Linhardt’s still form. There was no pain. Maybe his body didn’t think it was worth the effort. Not a good sign, but all things considered, it was probably for the best.
Linhardt was breathing, albeit raggedly, a stream of blood dripping from his lips as his glazed eyes sluggishly focused on Caspar’s face. Despite the fires burning around them and the hoofbeats and war cries and clashing of metal rising up on all sides, Caspar managed a smile.
“We really did it now, huh?” he said, collapsing beside him, just close enough to reach out for his arm. One, two, three, four arrows stuck out of Linhardt’s chest at all angles, blood seeping into the dirt under his tattered robes. “Oh Lin…I should have gotten to you…sooner…”
Wordlessly, Linhardt glanced down at the spear jutting out from Caspar’s stomach, sadness seeping into his features. “You…”
“Least I got to you in the end…”
“Caspar…”
“S’okay. I always knew…losing meant death.” He coughed, and oh – there was the pain. He grimaced. Could have been worse. “Do you think we did the right thing?”
Linhardt let out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows. “Hard to say. Don’t think it matters at this point.” He looked down at Caspar’s ruined armor again, for once not flinching at the sight of blood seeping from the cracks. He reached for the spear, listlessly, magic sparking at his fingertips.
Caspar grasped his wrist, gently. “Don’t bother, Lin.”
“I just…” His brows pinched together as he groaned. Though the sound was so weak it sounded more like a whimper. “I kept you alive so long…I don’t want it to be a wasted effort…”
“Wasn’t wasted.” He smiled, giving Linhardt’s bloodstained hand a squeeze. “I lived this long, didn’t I?”
Linhardt let out a half-formed moan in response, his grip growing weaker. “I never thought dying would be…” His breath hitched in pain. “…so much…effort…” A tear tracked down his cheek. “I just want it over with.”
“Hey…” Damn the pain, Caspar shuffled closer. As close as he could. “It’s okay. I’m right here.” Linhardt forced his eyes open, staring at him. “I’ll hang in there…till you go. So you don’t have to go alone, okay?”
After all the times Linhardt had soaked his hands in Caspar’s blood, all the times he had stitched him back together while fighting the urge to vomit, all the times he had channeled so much magic through his hands that they were left raw and red and scarred, Caspar figured it was the least he could do.
Caspar smiled, blackness creeping into the edge of his vision. He fought it off. He had a promise to keep. “Remember that time I stole your shoes?”
Linhardt barely mustered a quiet hum in response, eyes half-lidded.
“We were ten…it had rained for days…I dragged you out of the house as soon as it stopped…to go climbing the trees by the lake. I stole your shoes when you took them off…because you didn’t want them to get muddy…” Linhardt’s eyes slipped closed, his breath coming in short, ragged pulls as his grip on Caspar’s hand grew weak.
“You pushed me into the lake,” Caspar continued with a weak little laugh. “I think I deserved it…but then I lost one of your damn shoes…in the water…”
When he ran his thumb along Linhardt’s knuckles, his hand was limp. Despite the din of battle around them, the silence left behind when Linhardt’s ragged breathing stopped was deafening.
Caspar bit his lip, thankful when the pain started to ebb. It almost reminded him of Linhardt’s healing magic – a cool, creeping numbness seeping into his flesh, calming his racing thoughts.
At least he’d kept his promise, even if it was a small thing in the end.
For once, he let Linhardt go on ahead of him, and Caspar followed behind.