Work Text:
Thunder roars and heavy rain assaults the sides of the fortress but despite the storm's violent protests the inside of Lady Corrin's room is fairly quiet. Jakob uses a short poker to prod the small fire he's managed to muster in the fireplace and tuts at the lack of wood he needs to properly ensure the rooms warmth.
“Jakob?” The fire cracks humbly beneath the outside downpour but even standing this close to it Jakob is keenly aware of the cold silence the room is otherwise dominated by. His master has been asking the same question frequently as of late and he can't ever remember feeling so uncomfortable to be the centre of her attention.
“Was it right? What we did.” He lets the question linger in the air for awhile. Lady Corrin has been dwelling on this particular subject for a long time now. The war had taken its toll on everyone involved but none more so than Corrin and despite how long it's been since the official end of the war Jakob is still worried.
“Is everything alright Lady Corrin?” He carefully tries to move around the question, Corrin isn't one to hide her emotions but for some time now he can feel a distance starting to crop up between them. The storm crackles loudly against the window, rain trashing against it and to Jakob's displeasure, the fire dies with little less than a whimper.
“What makes you say that?” Her voice is on high alert and unusually guarded as she turns her full attention, away from the window, towards him. The suspiciousness isn't in character for her but it's rightfully so too, he'd been eavesdropping on her, not that he suspected she knew. He bends down into the fireplace both to rekindle it and to avoid meeting her gaze. As of late Lady Corrin had resigned herself to staying cooped up in the northern fortress she'd grown up in and lately had begun refusing to even leave for basic things. Even within the fortress now he is being ushered to lay out her words to the staff in her stead. Lady Corrin had been so bushy tailed and optimistic before the late King Garron had sent her out to war and in contrast to the now reserved and reclusive woman she'd come back as, it was concerning to say the least.
“I believe Felicia mentioned something to that fashion.” He answered absent mindedly, prodding the logs as Corrin allowed him to soak in the silence of his white lie. He cared for lady Corrin, from the bottom of his heart he truly did and it was painful to see her so clearly suffering.
“She told me she believed in me and thus my actions.” Corrin explained quietly and as the fire burst back into life Jakob clapped his hands and turned quickly, plastering a smile onto himself.
“Well I would most certainly agree with that assessment Lady Corrin, you don't have a bad bone in your body and I don't believe you could truly make an unkind decision.” She muttered something under her breath, something rather dark and Jakob could've sworn he heard mention of the late Prince Takumi. Suddenly however Corrin was standing, and as the fire crackled behind him he felt cornered within the room. Cornered? He'd never felt that way around her before. Thankfully she strode past him and settled standing in place looking out over the rain drenched courtyard below.
“Is it wrong to be unkind Jakob?” She'd turned to the window but from the corners of his eyes he could see her reflection watching him intently. His fingers dug into his hand. How pathetic he felt, in nervous doubt of his charge. Jakob smiled trying to hide his traitorous feelings.
“I don't believe your actions were truly unkind my lady. Even if you think they were, I don't believe anyone could say they were wrong.” He reached for the poker to enrich the fire but as he did Corrin clasped his arm.
“That will be all Jakob.” Her tone was gentle but firm not unlike how she used to give out orders in battle.
“Lady Corrin?” Jakob is caught between two minds. On one hand he's furious enough with himself, how terrible must his hesitation be if she wishes to send him away but another part of his mind can see his lady suffering and knows it is his duty to help. He reaches again for the poker “there are still many tasks to attend to today and I-”
“I said” less gentle now and the unfamiliar steel in her voice makes the hairs on the back of Jakob's neck rise “that will be all for today Jakob.” As her hand leaves his arm he truly feels the horrible coldness of the room, silent except for the harsh downpour hammering the stone wall behind her. Her reflection looks away from him and he feels shame and inadequacy at not knowing at all what to say. Lady Corrin had been under a great deal of stress lately and even if he didn't know specifically why, the last thing he wished for was to cause her more undue troubles.
“Is there nothing more I can do for you at this moment? A warm meal would do you well and-”
“Fetch Flora for me.” He opens his mouth to question her but abruptly stops himself. Jakob nods and bows simply as he shuts the door quietly behind him. Jakob wishes for nothing more than to force himself back into the room and attend to her every need but as much as he hates to admit it, there are some things he cannot accomplish for her on his own.
Lately his Lady had begun using her retainers for various methods to avoid interacting with the outside world. Jakob was used for odd jobs that needed doing about the fortress and its grounds interacting with the few staff Xander kept here for her, Flora was used to send and receive messages for Lady Corrin herself acting as a voice for her and Felicia had been used to dissuade uninvited guests which, as of last week, had begun to include Lady Corrin's very own siblings. What little remained of their staff was still on edge after Lady Camilla had been sent away without so much as seeing Corrin. Thus if Lady Corrin needed Flora it meant she had a message for someone, a task she simply had delegated to a different retainer, she would have other needs of him no doubt. He still cannot help the hope he feels, as he approaches the twins quarters, that whoever the message is intended for will help ease the burden she has placed upon her shoulders.
Xander rolls his shoulders in a vain attempt to stretch on the stuffy oversized throne without actually moving at all, he's been stuck in this gaudy stone seat for longer than he'd care to admit but as King he has a never ending list of duties to attend to. It is just as his agenda slowly reaches its end for the day that any hopes of a quick reprieve are seemingly dashed as Peri approaches and calls out to him formally announcing an arrival.
“Lord Xander there's a messenger here for ya!” Despite Peri's noble origins and the considerable amount of time she'd spent stuck in political delegations with him her speech had always remained casual and free. As King he felt an automatic need to reprimand her but he had hardly cared for such things himself, however these days he'd spent far too much time fruitlessly trying to upturn the opinions of nobility that were far too quick to judge. The Nohrian nobility was frustratingly judgemental of everyone and anyone, his retainers included and if their not so sly remarks continued he could envision trouble coming for both themselves and eventually him after the consequences of their foolish actions caught up with them. Peri wasn't exactly shy when it came to letting people know her mind or skewering them either for that matter.
“Flora” Xander has become all too familiar with Corrin's retainers as of late to the extent that it's not at all surprising to find her here before him “a message from my little sister I presume?” The last time he'd managed to talk with Corrin she had abruptly set out on a small trip to Hoshido without warning and they'd barely exchanged a few words before she'd all but vanished. He had only found out after her return that she had travelled to Hoshido both to pay her respects and leave the Yato Blade at the late Prince Ryoma's burial site, a political move he hadn't expected of his sibling. The physical blade held no current value to himself or Nohr but did hold great political significance to Hoshido, so returning the blade had smoothed many things over with them in a post war climate even if the image of the blade that had supposedly taken Ryoma's life being kept so closely to his grave was troubling to some others, himself admittedly included.
“Lady Corrin wishes for your presence my Lord.” Flora's messages were always brief and to the point but the content was rather surprising. Just the other day Corrin had turned down Camilla of all people, not even so much as meeting her in person and instead sending someone else to tell her she wouldn't even be allowed a step inside the northern fortress. Corrin's sudden reclusion into said fortress, the same one she'd been so desperate to escape from as a child, was a concern for all her siblings but none more so than Camilla who cared for them all ever so deeply. Xander had spent the better part of that night consoling Camilla's tears. He'd been planning on confronting Corrin about this directly but he had not expected an open invitation to do just that. The kingly part of his mind said that was suspicious, the brotherly part reminded him that Corrin was very young and had forced herself through a great deal for the sake of Nohr. Something Nohr hadn't exactly thanked her for. The brotherly side of his mind won him over easily.
“That's good. I had planned to visit her myself. I'm finished with my duties for the day, I'll ready a horse and set out immediately.” Flora curtseyed and turned to leave the room before he could get another word in. Both of Corrin's maids had been yet another surprise to him, still staying loyal to Nohr even the war had ended and his father, or what was left of him, had been removed from the throne. He'd become somewhat accustomed to talking with each of Corrin's retainers on her behalf but none more so than Flora, it was as if they shared some unspeakable bond that her other retainers hadn't quite managed to build with her. That was something Xander could understand, glancing towards Peri who was leaving to prepare their horses, a retainer who understood you without having to ask questions was a true rarity. It was just what exactly Corrin saw that was so familiar to her with the troubled heiress of the ice tribe that Xander pondered over.
The Northern Fortress is as dreary and forgettable as he distantly remembers. It's an unsightly structure that juts out unnaturally from the ground but despite it's dismissible appearance he does have fond memories of it, almost entirely of seeing Corrin within it. As he stables his horse and shakes himself from the now light rainfall Xander takes distinct note of the empty state the stables are in, as if all but the essential staff have been dismissed. The after effects of war are showing everywhere in Nohr and a shortage of workers is no surprise anywhere but the stables are practically empty, meaning the fortress likely would be also. Even if his little sister has locked herself away, a fortress of this size would require far more than two maids and a butler to keep itself maintained.
“You can head back Peri” she gives him an odd look but shrugs and rears her horse on a slow trot back the way they'd come. There's something unnerving about the empty fortress, perhaps it reminds him of Garron, or whatever became of him, insisting that Corrin had to remain here alone, something Xander regrets never truly fighting him on. It's a childish paranoia that is settling into him and sending Peri away is his way of stifling it. The last thing he wants is to doubt his sibling, it's a mistake he swore to never make again.
Flora leads him ever upwards to a small but very familiar room, as he enters Corrin's bed chamber he's surprised to find it's been refurbished but not exactly redecorated. The large bed is now missing from the room and the entire space seems empty in comparison, now comprised of only a small table and a set of chairs either side of it by the large imposing window. He hasn't seen any staff on his way up either, not even the other maid or Corrin's personal butler giving the entire fortress a distinctly haunted feeling but it's alleviated instantly by the young girl sitting in the chair facing away from him.
Corrin does not turn to greet him as Xander slowly makes his way around the table. It isn't until he's fully seated that she looks up from her hands and Xander suddenly wishes he'd brought Camilla with him as a means to help with the pained expression splashed across his little sisters face. She looks cracked, trying to put on a brave face but the bags under her eyes and a general worn expression give her sorrows away.
“It's good to see you Xander.” He's thankful that even after being crowned King she had never restored to addressing him as anything more formal than Xander or big brother. It reminds him that no matter how much the war has taken that the warmth of his siblings are still with him.
“Corrin” before he can say anything however her attention snaps to the maid that has shadowed Xander from the throne room.
“Some tea please Flora and fetch some for Peri too if she's waiting outside?” It's a thoughtful thing to ask and very Corrin to insist that everyone be given equal treatment but now that his attention is drawn to her Xander notices how terribly tense the young maid is. Her hands are clutched tightly in front of herself and her eyes dart between himself and Corrin without answering. The odd paranoia is whispering in the back of his mind and he speaks up to quell it.
“It's just me actually” he clarifies “I sent Peri home.” Corrin turns to him and he can't help but notice just how pale she looks. He glances towards the fireplace and the poor remnants of a fire that clearly hadn't done much for her, if she became ill he'd have grave words for her retainers about their duties.
“I see. Just tea for Xander and I then Flora.” The young maid practically darts out of the room and Xander decides to leave the Kingly worries behind himself and focus on the troubled person before him. It's refreshing after having to deal with blabbering and pompous fools all day to finally talk with someone he can be himself with, someone he can simply be a brother to rather than a King.
“I heard you sent Camilla away when she came to visit the other day?” Perhaps, he considers, it would've been smarter to ease into this topic. Corrin's face sours instantly at the mention of her older sister, glancing over at the barred window to avoid looking him in the eye.
“We had a disagreement. I just wanted to be alone.” Alone isn't a word he associates with any of his sisters. Elise and Camilla were the emotional backbone of their family and Corrin had been much the same, a warm and welcoming sister who clung to each and every one of her siblings. It was a rare thing indeed for her to wish to be without them. Corrin herself is the picture of tense, carefully gripping her arms around herself and sitting hunched forward in her seat. She looks agitated and alert, ready to spring to action at a moments notice. He's seen her before like this of course but that was on the battlefield, not the confines of her own home. He shifts the topic back to Camilla hoping that her gentle persona will ease Corrin's anxiousness.
“She was very worried, in tears actually. Surely whatever disagreement you had could have been settled in person at the very least?” An uncomfortable silence Xander had never truly experienced with Corrin stretches out between them and in it he feels something strange, a wall between the two of them that hadn't been present before. It was true he'd spent a lot less time with Corrin lately, being a King hadn't left him much time for anything, but just what had he missed as his younger sibling had locked herself within these tower walls that would cause such a rift? Corrin is unusually silent.
“I'm worried about you also.” Again, no response. He watches her carefully and tries to find some way to break through the silence between them. His sister was habitual and always tended to go to others for help when she needed it but from what he'd seen of her in battle, the war had definitely taken a part of that childlike innocence from her. He had hoped that being back here, back home, would have helped her move on. Clearly he had misjudged the situation.
“Don't you think you should settle down?” Corrin flinches and Xander immediately regrets his choice of words, he had meant to broach the subject of leaving her troubles behind. His hand ghosts over the hilt of Siegfried at his side, distantly wishing for their sparring sessions where words seemed to pass between them silently and far more freely.
“Settle down? What do you mean?” He shifts now trying to hide the discomfort he feels himself in. Corrin had been somewhat of an open book to him before and she to him. This new feeling of distance and dissonance between them is unfamiliar and leaves a horrible empty feeling within him. He takes a moment to collect himself, to pull together the right words and convey the importance of either addressing her worries or confiding them in those around her but before he can answer the door creaks open.
Corrin does not turn to look but Xander watches the maid pace into the room with an almost forced awkwardness. He's become all too used to Flora lately so much so that he'd begun to look into her past, into the unsightly forced relocation of both herself and her sister to Nohr away from their tribe and all because Corrin refuses to talk with him herself. What he has become used to however is Flora's careful and practised technique always looking in place and the picture of perfection amongst the maids around her. Now however she shares Corrin's tension as she strains herself to place a cup before him and pour tea as if the slightest movement would cause the pot to shatter.
Something, far more child than King within him muses she might be poisoning him. He wants to kick himself at the thought. He's been stuffed in that throne room too long, an audience to the boorish and conceited Nohrian nobility that the finely toned instincts of a general within him are on high alert over such small things. He watches as she pours the exact same pot into Corrin's cup and how his little sister ignores it, her eyes fixed on him and more alive now, restless even. He meets her gaze head on and takes a careful sip of the scolding hot tea as he formulates the correct thing to say.
“The war is over Corrin. It's high time you left it behind you, time you started looking towards other things. Better things for yourself.” The look she gives him tells Xander everything he needs to know. Her hands curl into fists and she leans forward onto the edge of her seat, she looks as if she's ready to spring at him and he'd more than welcome it. He's never felt more connected to her than when they'd sparred.
“It doesn't feel over.” She isn't wrong, even if the war had ended by all accounts the ripples it caused are still felt by all, Corrin especially. Out of all his siblings both Corrin and Elise were truly kind souls and Corrin had done her utmost to fight a mostly bloodless war, something Xander viewed as noble if somewhat naïve, their father however had been outright displeased taking the peaceful reports of her battles as a sign of weakness. Corrin had solved this problem with a simple lie as information had been leaked to father and thus most of Nohr that she instead tortured and indoctrinated her prisoners making her lack of casualties in taking enemy strongholds cast a much darker light than one might think. This placated their father but also caused unintentional horror from the peoples of Hoshido and Nohr combined. By the time Xander had learned of such outlandish rumours and attempted to clear his little sister's name his words were met with confusion.
“Corrin? You mean that monster?” Even as King he hadn't managed to wipe away the dark and shadowy reputation she'd sown for herself and what made matters worse was rather than attempting to come clean Corrin had embraced this skewed truth, taking attention and scrutiny away from Xander's sudden rise to power. The deaths of several key figures within both countries monarchy hadn't helped matters much either. After the death of Prince Takumi especially, Xander had direly wished that both nations would've learned to let go of their hatred and move on to better and brighter futures. He glanced towards Corrin, her hands still clutched into claws with her face contorted into pain and realized he'd been sitting silently for too long.
“My apologies, I was lost in thought” he mused suddenly on a potentially lighter subject matter “whatever happened to Azura?” He'd known she'd survived the war but hadn't heard much of what happened to her since. He'd assumed that her visit to Hoshido was not just for returning the Yato but perhaps to visit her also, as the girl had seemed to be one of Corrin's few confidants.
“Gone.” Corrin backed down but not in the way he'd hoped, shrinking into herself and looking away from him guiltily as if she'd been chided. This clearly had been the wrong thing to say, before Corrin had at least looked angry now she seemed defeated and tired. As he attempted to move onto another topic however Corrin found one first. She pulled herself up, looking so very small in the chair she sat in and carefully asked him.
“Xander, do you think what I did was right?” This however was a topic he grasped onto with ease.
“Yes” he answered without missing a beat “despite the tragedies that befell us you led us down the path that ended the war in the most efficient and sure manner. Your path may not have been clean little sister but it was the path I would've taken also. It was right.” To his relief this seemed to ease the tension in the younger girl, who at the very least unclenched her hands and allowed herself to fall back into her chair as she collapsed into its weight.
“It hasn't felt that way so far. There's been talk of rebellions, Hoshido is in turmoil over the loss of two monarchs so suddenly and now even our own nobility are whispering discomforts about the wars abrupt end.” Xander nodded. Her complaints were fair and if he were honest he shared many of them too. He understood of course, if was unreasonable to expect that years of hostility between the two nations would end overnight with a peace treaty, doubly so with the shock and growing pains of new and somewhat inexperienced leadership for both countries. The fighting hadn't truly ended everywhere either, there were still some skirmishes that some might call rebellions but none of it was not without progress of course, the two nations were slowly, not so steadily, walking the fine line towards peace.
“It ends now Xander.” His eyes flickered back up to her out of his own thoughts. She was leaned forward now arms grasping the handles of her chair and looking straight into him, she almost looked as much the monarch as he did. Xander had only heard her speak like that once before, after their battle with father and eventually the late Prince Takumi. When the fight had ended she'd said something similar, that the war between Hoshido and Nohr ended that very moment, insisting he as their King declared it so. At the time he'd brushed it off, she'd been through far too much and any soldier in such a situation would need to hear something reassuring, looking into her tired yet fierce expression, he saw the same darkened determination that had driven her so forcefully during the war. Not everything could be achieved by forcing the issue however.
“These things take time Corrin.” Corrin's cup shatters into countless pieces as it collides with one of the bars of the window to her right, missing her maid narrowly.
“That's not good enough!” Xander watches spilt tea drip slowly from between the bars to the now clearly tense maid standing by it. Her hand is fixed tight to her side, just above where she keeps her dagger. Xander pushes down on the nagging feeling that is now blossoming into concern and instead tries to recategorize it into something helpful as he looks to Corrin, breathing heavily as she stands over the table. He'd known her to get upset, exasperated even, to be in tears at the thought of not seeing him or her siblings again for some time but he'd never once known Corrin to be angry. She looked furious, her eyes wild as she panted, bolt upright and towering above him. It was only years of experience on the battlefield that allowed Xander to keep his calm.
“The wounds of the previous war still weigh heavily on everyone Corrin. Neither the peoples of Hoshido nor Nohr will stop hurting simply because it is the right thing to do.” Corrin sucks in a harsh breath as her eyes narrow but she doesn't flinch away from them. He's glad, almost, that they're getting to the core of the argument. The heat of battle is something familiar, even in spars between the two of them but what isn't familiar if the bitterness that creeps into Corrin's voice.
“It's not just the population” she all but spits “it's those leeches you allow in your court.” Xander gently lifts his cup and takes a diplomatically long drink. It's true that currently Nohr is being burdened with a great deal of costly restorations and repayments for the casualties he has caused and that combined with his good relationship with Queen Hinoka had caused discord within Nohr, the nobility who think themselves far above Hoshido especially. Most of Xander's siblings had made their dislike of the nobility quite clear but Xander was all too aware of what a King with nobody to answer to looked like, he had not been blind to his father's actions and he would not allow Nohr to suffer another king who answered to no one.
“During these times we must be examples to the people and nobility alike Corrin. Where we find discourse we must be the examples for them to follow.” He had hope to ignite the kindness he knew lay within his sister, the part of her that cared a little too much for the people around her. His words however fell upon deaf ears.
“So you'll do nothing then?” She sits carefully but her eyes never leave him, settling into a determined expression that adds to the dangerous edge in her words. He will do nothing. Corrin is discontent but he hadn't quite realized her discontent also extended to him, as much as he wishes to reassure her that he will make things right the decision is not ultimately up to him, nor her for that matter. He is the voice of his people, their leadership and King but he is no tyrant and a peace brought by force is no peace at all. Corrin's knuckles are white and her nails dig painfully into the wood of her chair as she grips it tight, there are a thousand things Xander wants to say to her but ultimately only one thing he finds he can.
“Stop being so childish.” Corrin's eyes flare and she physically reels away from him as if he'd slapped her.
“The war may have ended Corrin but its repercussions will carry on far longer than either of us. Neither of us can change that. We must focus on the here and now, on what we can do, on what is possible. Neither I as King nor you as the one who brought us this peace can force anyone to accept it.” Corrin stares at him, her face twisting from confusion to anger and finally settling on quiet contemplation. He watches carefully as she collapses back into her chair, breathing in and out slowly and letting her eyes fall shut. If it were not for the world of tension he now knows lies upon her he would almost think she's at peace. His eyes shift to the maid by their side, still standing vigilantly and unmovingly but her eyes are fixed entirely on Corrin, watching her with something akin to worry.
“I see.” Corrin's eyes open and they're focused now as she meets his gaze. For a single hopeful moment Xander thinks he might've gotten through to her but what he recognizes in her eyes does not bring him comfort. Xander knows first hand that conflict and war changes people. For Corrin it had been surprising to learn that the most kind and caring of his siblings, perhaps with the exception of Elise, would go to any lengths to accomplish the goals she set her sights on. Before the war began he never would have believed his sister would be capable of leading her way through a path of sacrifice, would be strong enough emotionally to walk over the corpses of those around her to reach an ultimately peaceful goal. Just because what she had done was right did not make it easy, the bodies of Ryoma and Takumi clearly weighed heavily upon her but, if anything, his sister was determined. It was that same bloody resolution he could see in her eyes now.
“Flora” the young maid nearly jumped at her sudden address but what she said next set Xander's growing concern into full blown fear “fetch us some more tea would you? Chamomile will do.” There was a sick sort of dissonance from the fiery look of Corrin's eyes, still fixed on him, to the carefully controlled tone of her voice. He watched the maid intently from the corner of his eye as Corrin spoke. While Flora's entire body displayed a practised calmness her eyes betrayed a sudden shock, worry and fear that didn't match what his sister had said nor the heavy cadence in which she'd spoken, as if it were a battlefield order. Xander watched his sister carefully and for the first time today allowed his paranoia to speak.
“If you think you can change the world with force Corrin then I have failed you, both as a King and as your brother.” Corrin twitched but didn't move, she held herself with the stillness he'd observed in her many times. It was him after all that had taught her how to fight. He didn't look away from his sister and listened carefully as Flora's footsteps walked to the door, opened it and shut it quietly before stopping dead in their tracks. The confirmation that the maid was not leaving to fetch tea, but waiting behind the door was the horrible confirmation to his inner fear that Xander dreaded. Something more King than brother placed his now finished tea cup onto the table, allowing it to subtly fall closer to Siegfried by his side.
“I won't allow this mockery of peace to continue.” Her voice shook in contrast to the rigid way she held herself as Corrin stared through him, eyes ablaze with the cold determination of someone who had already come to a decision. Her hand moved carefully across her body until she grasped something unseen by her own side, he was sure he hadn't seen a weapon on her but he remembered the terrifying havoc she could wreak with the aid of only a small dragonstone. His heart twisted horribly but Xander pushed down on it, pushed down on the brother he was and reminded himself of the ever present mantle that rested upon his head.
“How much more will you sacrifice for the sake of peace little sister?” Corrin's fingers stopped, her entire body going rigid for a moment as he addressed her. For one hope filled moment he watched as she glanced away but as she looked back at him Xander braced himself against the cold steel in her eyes.
“As much as it takes.”
The table erupted into a thousand splinters as Corrin leaps forwards in mid-transformation, Xander has to roll, reaching for his sword, to avoid the barrage of daggers thrown straight towards his back as the door explodes open from behind him. Falling into a roll he raises Siegfried up and is met with the titanic full form of a dragon crashing down upon him, Corrin's front legs smashing through the floor mere inches from where he'd been sitting. Not giving either of them time to recover he pierces forwards with Siegfried but is unprepared for Corrin's draconic form to suddenly shrink. In slow motion Xander watches as his younger sibling slowly slips from dragon to almost human but for the razor sharp claw of her hand to thrust under his outstretched sword, too fast for him to react. In an instant it's over and Xander never has the chance to express his own deep sorrows for the burden Corrin is about to place upon herself.
In her own years trapped within the northern fortress, just as much a prisoner as the person she had been forced to serve, Flora had learned how to pretend that long and horrible silences were somehow comfortable. That the horrible silence, the cold isolation and lack of comfort were somehow normal or even pleasant. It was this kind of false silence she fell into as she ghosted behind her charge as they walked side by side back to the main castle of Nohr.
The guards did not question the two of them, Corrin leaning into her with her cape clasped around them, after all it had been raining and even the days of Nohr could be bitterly cold. Flora herself was even known for having an unnatural coldness about her. Nobody at all suspected the bloody crown Corrin clutched in trembling hands to her side. Nobody asked them about the King or where they were heading as they slowly made their way to the throne room finding the head of pink hair Flora was looking for with grim resolution.
“Lady Corrin I gathered ev-” Felicia's words stopped dead in their tracks when she saw what Corrin was carrying. Everything Flora had done in this wretched place had been for Felicia, had she been taken to Nohr alone she likely would've attempted escape or even worse potential assassination. Garron had likely known that, known that bringing two of them together would make each one less likely to act out in rebellion for fear of what would happen to the other. It was regretful that for all the years of protecting Felicia that she should now see the childlike horror in her eyes as Corrin removed the bloody crown she clutched under her cloak.
“Thank you Felicia” Corrin strode past her, appreciating the icy confidence that Flora's presence behind her instilled “you are dismissed for the day.” She didn't wait to see what Felicia did and raised her hands up to the large oak doors of Nohr's throne room.
Felicia turned to look at her but Flora didn't allow herself to do the same, keeping her eyes fixed on Corrin's cape.
“Did they all gather here?” Felicia gawked, head flicking constantly from Flora to Corrin's retreat into the throne room.
“Yeah...” Flora nodded solemnly.
“Go home Felicia. I'll be with you shortly.” She didn't turn to check if her sister left, instead mirroring Corrin and walking to the doors only to take them both and push them tightly shut.
Flora did not envy Corrin nor the horrible fate she had resigned herself to but she could never leave her either. If Flora were in her place, in the horrible reality where the lives of those around her had been laid bare for the bloody path she had been entrusted with, Flora wasn't sure she had the resolve to act like Corrin did.
“Flora...” She took a deep breath as she laid her hands up against the wooden oak doors and let the coldness she felt splay across them, ignoring Felicia behind her.
“Flora. Where's King Xander?”
Of all people in her life it was Garron that Corrin found herself dwelling upon as she pushed the gigantic doors open watching in cold determination as the figures that made up Nohr's nobility turned in unison to look at her. Corrin had once believed that you must be truly mad to kill people. That death was a savage and unsightly thing, something far beneath the heroes she'd admired from books and tales of old. A villainous thing that she especially had a duty to prevent at all costs, to save the people from and even to say the villains themselves from. For even the most heinous of people surely had to have some good in them? Did Garron too have some good in him? Was his twisted bloodshed all done in the sake of Nohr? For the sake of a country that would be bettered by his horrible mad schemes?
The crown dropped from her hands with a resounding clang as it rolled along the stone floor, leaving a tarnished red trail behind it, as Flora slowly encased the one and only exit to the throne room in ice from the other side. Corrin never once would have come to such a realization without the very actions that led her to this moment.
It was horrible. Unthinkable even. The deaths of her family had opened her eyes to the cruel reality of the world around her, to just how truly evil people could be and in contrast just how important peace and prosperity were. She reached carefully for the dragonstone she kept hidden under her breastplate.
She could always have backed down, walked away and accepted the meagre accomplishments towards peace she'd made. But that wouldn't be fair. It wouldn't be fair to the people who couldn't enjoy those strides towards peace. It wouldn't be right to leave things less than perfect.
Garron had been mad. Takumi had too, driven mad by his revenge and his inability to let go of the hatred that consumed him but he hadn't been evil. If anyone would be remembered that way it would most likely be her. The monster that stepped over the bodies of her brothers to put an end this conflict. Evil or not didn't really play into it. The world wasn't like the books she'd read in her fortress. Being evil and being mad weren't remotely the same.
You didn't have to be mad to kill people, you just had to believe you were doing the right thing.