Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Just give me the order, my king, and I will settle this dispute once and for all.”

King Dimitri sighed, his jaw clenched as he restrained his mouth from speaking before he thought. Lord Mortimer had always been too rash for Dimitri’s comfort, but that didn’t change the fact that he had just as much of a right to be heard as any other lord.

Since Ingrid refused her inheritance in order to become a knight, Mortimer, Ingrid’s cousin, wasted no time requesting Count Galatea’s blessing to become the legitimate successor. While nothing was made official, it was no mystery which way Ingrid’s father was leaning. Therefore, Mortimer was essentially speaking on behalf of the Count himself.

“I cannot allow it,” the king answered firmly. “The Kingdom is working to repair relations with Duscur, not promote more turmoil. I will not hear of any acts of discrimination against the people of Duscur in any form.”

“But your majesty,” Lord Mortimer carefully spoke, “have you no care for all the pain their men have caused us? All the precious lives they took from us? From you?” King Dimitri narrowed his eyes, a low tone of warning creeping into his voice.

“The Tragedy of Duscur was painful for every party involved. It is selfish and prideful to assign blame only to one side — foolhardy, even.”

“But my king—”

“Your request has been denied, Lord Mortimer. I suggest you go home and find more productive ways to use your time and power.”

Lord Mortimer choked back words of resentment and stiffly took his leave. With an exasperated sigh, King Dimitri stood and exited as well. He headed for the palace garden, Dedue joining him at his side the moment he exited the throne room. He looked as if he wished to ask the king how it went, but knew better.

Dimitri played the short exchange over again and again in his mind. The trust between the people of Faerghus and Duscur was growing little by little, but then there were people like Mortimer, always fighting to undo all the good that had been done. He never let those people deter him, though. All of Fódlan was improving relations with neighboring territories: House Gautier was slowly succeeding in negotiating peace terms with Sreng, the Adrestian Empire was now on good terms with the new queen of Brigid, and the Leicester Alliance recently elected new representatives at the roundtable with heritages of Duscur, Sreng, and even Almyra. Finally, after so many generations of struggling, Fódlan was becoming a better place to live.

Though that was not to say the losses they had suffered didn’t still sting. For all of Mortimer’s nonsense, he was not wrong when he brought up the pain Dimitri had personally suffered from the Tragedy. How could he forget? Hardly a day went by as king that he didn’t wish his father was there to guide him, or his mother there to listen and love him. Even the loss of his professor from his days at the Officer’s Academy weighed heavily on his heart. The last several years of war and chaos had resulted in many smaller-scale tragedies. He often needed to remind himself that the only way forward, rather than dwelling on the past, was to be thankful for those he still had around him.

“Brother, you made it!” The young woman smiled brightly as Dimitri entered the garden. Her hair was braided and pulled up into an elegant updo, and her lovely dress draped the grass in royal blue. Dimitri obliged when she patted the space next to her on the picnic blanket. Dedue stood on her other side, arms behind his back.

“Of course I made it, Rose. How could I neglect such an important meeting with my dear little sister.”

“You make it sound like a war conference or something,” she rolled her violet-blue eyes at him as he sat down. “Idiot.”

“Now, now, I’d be careful with that sort of language if I were you. Should a nearby soldier overhear us, he may question your loyalties.”

“Oh please,” Rose said as she handed her brother a teacup, “I think I’ve been around long enough for just about everyone in the Kingdom to trust me by now. Maybe even more than you.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Dimitri said, staring down at his tea. “Once word escapes about where you have been all these years, I don’t imagine as many people looking at you with much trust.”

“Is that not what you’re working to change?” She seemed perplexed as if simply putting in the right amount of effort yielded the desired result. If only the world was that fair.

“Yes, but that won’t change that there will always be those who choose to cling to old grudges rather than build new bridges.” He felt the gaze of Dedue on him, who offered a look of understanding and a subtle nod. Rose seemed to notice, but said nothing about it, opting instead to shrug and sip her tea. Dimitri sighed deeply before straightening his posture. “But enough about all that. How have you been, Rose? I regret I haven’t had much time to spend with you recently. Are you and Claude still in touch?”

Rose nodded. “We exchange letters. Ever since he returned from his trip to Almyra, he has been asking me to come to visit him in Leicester. I suppose he has a souvenir for me.”

“How exciting. I’m glad to hear all seems to be going well on his end.” Rose laughed a little as she lifted a small plate of fruit from her picnic basket.

“I wouldn’t quite go that far,” she said as she offered the fruit to Dimitri, who took an apple. She did the same to Dedue, but the stoic soldier politely declined. “Recently he has told me about the pressure he is feeling from his grandfather, who refuses to retire, insisting Claude is certain to fail the Alliance and disgrace the Riegan name.”

“I should think it would be far wiser to step down now if he is so worried about how Claude may lead the Alliance. That way he may still have some influence on leaders should he see the need to get involved again.”

“Claude keeps saying the same thing, but evidently no such argument has waned the Duke’s stubbornness.”

“That is a shame. For whatever it’s worth, I believe Claude will become one of the best leaders the Alliance has had for a long time.” Rose beamed as if she herself were being complimented.

“I’ll be sure to let him know that.”

“Your majesty.” Dedue leaned down and whispered something into Dimitri’s ear. The king’s fragile smile once again fell as he rose to his feet.

“Ah, it seems our time has been cut short again, Rose. I hate to leave in such a hurry, but —”

“Yes, yes, I know. Important kingly things to do,” Rose groaned, also rising. “We’ll just have to try again some other time.” Dimitri nodded appreciatively and marched out of the garden, Dedue never more than a step behind. Rose watched their backs disappear into the palace.

That night…

Dimitri woke with a start, sweat on his brow. For a moment, all he could hear was the sound of his heartbeat in his ears and his rapid breathing. It took him a moment to realize he was just dreaming, and a moment more to realize that the pounding on a door he heard was not just a dream.

“Your majesty, are you awake?” The feminine voice behind the door called. Dimitri’s stomach churned as he started to piece everything together. It was still the middle of the night — something terrible must have happened. He sprang out of bed to get dressed.

“Yes, what is it?” he asked, opening the door just before Ingrid was about to knock again.

“It’s Lord Mortimer — he’s attacking the city!”

“What?” The young lord’s rashness truly had no depths. What kind of fool would attempt to attack his country’s capital city under the shallow cover of the night? What did he hope this would accomplish? And why, why, must it always involve civilian casualties? “Where is Dedue?”

“He went on ahead to evacuate civilians in harm’s way after ensuring Princess Rose’s safety. I told him I would fetch you immediately.”

“Then we must help him at once.” Dimitri grabbed his lance and marched down the hallway, not waiting for Ingrid to catch up.

“But your majesty,” he heard her protest, “surely you’re the one Lord Mortimer is after. I think it would be safest to get you out of here while we knights take care of this.”

“No,” Dimitri stopped and turned around, towering over Ingrid. “A king is nothing without his people. I will not stand by while my knights fight battles and die by blades intended for me. I will save every last one of them that I can.”

Ingrid locked her determined stare with his. “And what of all of Lord Mortimer’s men?” Dimitri’s voice responded as cool as ice but as sharp as a sword.

“Kill them all.”

King Dimitri turned away and quickened his pace, rushing into the next room without a care of how far off he had left Ingrid. Until, of course, the door slammed behind him. Readying his lance, Dimitri scanned the darkness until his eye landed on a vague silhouette outlined by moonlight. He could tell by the voice that this person was smirking.

“By order of Lord Mortimer, your assassination is to be kept anonymous.” Loud banging and a voice came from the door behind Dimitri.

“Your majesty,” the voice called, more desperate than earlier. “You need to get out of here! Please, Dimi—” A bloodcurdling scream followed so loudly it echoed in the room he was in. All at once, Dimitri felt every sense go cold and numb.

“Poor, poor girl,” the mystery silhouette sneered. “That did sound unpleasant.”

Dimitri growled like a wild beast, thrusting his fist at the man’s figure and knocking him to the ground. Grasping his hand around the man’s neck, Dimitri threw him into the door, busting it open and allowing enough light from the hallway to see the man’s bloodied face.

“W-wait, stop! This is not what you want!” The first thing the man found in his reach was a lantern, so he feebly threw it at the enraged king, who instantly caught it and smashed it on the ground, unleashing the flames to eat at the man’s cape.

“Still choose to remain anonymous?”

“No, please. My name is Henry. I have a farm, a family, I- I don’t wanna die!” The king’s gaze did not falter as he pointed his lance at the man’s chest.

“Any last words, Henry?”

His face a mixture of tears and blood, the would-be assassin closed his eyes pitifully.

“No.”

The sound of steel shredding through flesh echoed in King Dimitri’s ears. The flames had now consumed the cape and continued to engulf the rest of the body. What a pathetic man. He was perfectly calm when he thought his victory was inevitable but crumbled under the slightest display of resistance — all talk, and no action.

Then, Dimitri’s eye caught sight of the body lying next to the door he had busted through — the body of his dear childhood friend. He dropped his lance and fell on his knees, not sure whether to cry or yell curses but unable to do either. He could have stayed there for minutes or for hours; time was completely null to him. It took the grasp of a strong hand on his shoulder to even remind him that he himself had not yet died.

He looked up at Dedue and somehow found the strength to regain his footing. Though the Duscur man was far from expressive, there was a calm reassurance in his unchanging face. After a moment of silence, the storm in Dimitri’s mind had settled enough for him to listen to the words of his vassal.

“Mortimer has retreated for the night, but we were able to capture most of his men and protect the citizens of Fhirdiad from their threat.” Dimitri was silent. Dedue’s frown deepened when he followed his king’s gaze. “I am saddened to see we are not without casualties tonight.”

“It should have been me,” Dimitri mumbled. “I was the one they were after; why would they have to kill her?!”

“It has been done. Now it is time for you to act.” Dimitri reluctantly nodded, picking up his lance and continuing his trek to the palace’s exit, each step laden with grief.

Every civilian was gathered, awaiting the words of their king. Dimitri gazed over the crowd as he advanced to the balcony, the rising sun bathing them in golden light.

“Citizens of Faerghus, Lord Mortimer has betrayed his loyalty to the Kingdom and is now an enemy of this country. We must fight back! While his attack tonight was brief, he is undoubtedly gathering more forces for a final confrontation, so we must do the same! Our soldiers will regroup, then they will smother this rebellion once and for all.”

The crowd roared with cheers and battle cries. Even regular citizens seemed inspired to fight for their country’s great name. As Dimitri retreated from the balcony, Dedue once again joined him.

“Your majesty,” he said in a low tone, “though Mortimer’s efforts were poorly executed, he has still left us scrambled and weakened. We also don’t know how many more men have joined his cause.”

“Glad to see my speech inspired you…” Dimitri muttered sarcastically. “What is your point?”

“His rebellion’s suppression may not come as easily as you let your people believe.”

“You’re suggesting we ask for aid?” Dedue nodded.

“I have recently contacted with some prominent members of the Leicester Alliance’s Roundtable. Apparently, the current Duke has officially stepped down.”

“So that means…”

King Dimitri marched to his office and found a paper and pen. After it was written on and signed, he called a pegasus rider and ordered him not to stop for anything until the letter reached its recipient. Then, as he waited, he decided to check on Rose. Last night must have been terrifying for her. When he reached her bedroom door, though, he saw it was ajar. Dimitri stopped in his tracks. Dedue stopped right behind him and lowered his head.
“There is one other thing you must know…”

~~~~~~~~~

“Hello, Claude,
I hope this letter finds you well. I congratulate you on your official ascension to the title of Duke of Leicester and wish you nothing but the best. However, I regret to inform you that the Kingdom is not fairing quite as well. There has been an uprising by a rebellious lord and his followers. They attacked Fhirdiad last night and made an attempt on my life, and now we don’t have enough soldiers to properly take on the lord’s remaining forces.
I write this to ask for some of your troops to aid us in battle. Anything you have to spare will be greatly appreciated.
I have full confidence in you, my friend.
— King Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd”

Claude set the letter down on his desk, drumming his fingers on the wooden surface. He may never grow to understand the way nobles do things. That was an awful lot of words just to say, “we’re under attack! Send help!” Then again, he would never expect anything different from Dimitri.

“Do you plan to send me back with another message, sir?” the messenger boy asked. Claude leaned back in his chair.

“Nah, you’re free to go, but you can tell the man just outside that door to prepare my Wyvern. My moment has arrived.”

~~~~~~~~~

“If you keep pacing, you are sure to tire before the battle begins.”

“I know, I know,” Dimitri sighed, forcing himself to slow down. “But then what do you suppose I do? I cannot stay idle while my world crumbles before me… not again…”

Dedue placed his hand on Dimitri’s shoulder, easing some of his tension. “Claude will come, and we will eliminate the threat of Lord Mortimer. Of this, I have no doubt.”

“…And Rose?” The king’s gaze was fixated on the ground.

“She will be found. No one has found her body, so wherever she is, she is alive.”

“Mortimer will pay dearly for all of this.” Dimitri clenched his fists and spoke through gritted teeth. “I will personally deliver his punishment.”

“For now, I suggest you rest. You will need all of your strength for this confrontation. I will see to it that the army is prepared for battle.”
Dimitri looked up at Dedue, the Duscur man’s unchanging expression always a comfort to his king. He sighed.

“Perhaps you’re right.”

An explosion sounded that could be heard all the way from the castle. Not a minute later, a soldier appeared in the doorway of the study.

“Your majesty, Lord Mortimer’s forces have once again arrived in the city square. He is personally leading the charge.”

“Looks like rest will have to wait,” Dimitri said before addressing the soldier. “Attack them head-on. They may have numbers, but they are no match in skill. Designate a group to evacuate any civilians caught in the fray. There is no time to lose!”

“Yes, your majesty!”

The marketplace was in shambles by the time Dimitri arrived. Fruit stands were toppled and crushed, carts were destroyed, and debris was everywhere. The Kingdom knights were making quick work of the farmers, thieves, and squires that comprised Mortimer’s followers. However, their numbers were much greater, and they were slowly making a dent in the Kingdom’s defenses. Mortimer was nowhere to be seen.

“Keep fighting,” King Dimitri yelled as he sliced another bandit with his lance. “This doesn’t end until that traitor is eliminated. Do not let them near the castle!”

“But sir, we are running out of knights able to keep up the fight!”

As he was about to reply, Dimitri felt the cool wave of a giant shadow over him. He looked up as his face twisted into a grin. The group of Wyverns rained arrows from above.

“A little bird told me you needed some backup, your kingliness,” Claude said, diving to fight by Dimitri’s side. He nocked his bow and pulled back the string. “Well, I’m at the ready.”

With their newfound aerial forces, the Kingdom’s army wiped out more and more of their opponents. Amidst the chaos, Dimitri caught a glimpse of a particularly well-dressed man fleeing from the battlefield toward the countryside. Without another thought, he bolted after him.

Mortimer sprinted through farmers’ fields and pastures until he found himself at the edge of a cliff. Behind him, the enraged king threw his lance, sticking it mere inches from the lord’s feet.

“Nowhere left to run, you coward,” the king snarled. “Now you’re going to tell me something.”

“I don’t need to tell you anything,” Mortimer hissed back, pulling the lance out of the ground and bracing himself with it. As Dimitri drew closer, he tried to stab him, but Dimitri caught the lance with the iron grip of his hand. He pulled it closer to him, causing Mortimer to lose his footing.

“You’re in no position to be anything but submissive. Now you’re going to tell me,” the king’s face was an inch away from him, his one blue eye burning with fury, “what have you done with Rose?”

“Oh, is that what this is about?” Mortimer grinned, fully aware of the thin ice he stood on. “You have nothing to worry about. I’m keeping her nice and safe for you.”

“Where is she?!”

“Somewhere she won’t ever have to see her dear brother turn into the beast that’s in front of me now.” Dimitri snatched the lance from Mortimer’s hand and held it to the young lord’s throat.

“If you won’t tell me, I’ll find her myself. I have no bother with ending you right now.” Lord Mortimer chuckled, his own determined fire igniting in his eyes.

“Oh dear, I believe you have underestimated me greatly, ‘savior king.’ A coward flees from the battlefield, but a genius lures his enemy to where he has the advantage.”

Mortimer unsheathed the sword at his waist and knocked the lance away from his throat. Dimitri staggered back, but only for a moment before thrusting the lance again, only to be parried in one swift motion. Before Dimitri could recover, Mortimer grabbed him by the shoulders (an impressive feat considering the difference in height) and turned him around to push him off the cliff. Dimitri’s strength was unmatched, but one slip of the foot and one final push were all it took to send him over the edge.

Before he fell, Dimitri grabbed Mortimer’s arm, making them both fall. Mortimer used his sword hand to stab the cliff, but Dimitri still had a firm grip on his other arm. Each of them was struggling to shake the other off without falling to death himself, but the poorly lodged sword could not take the weight of two bodies for long, and they both fell.
Just as Dimitri had accepted that this would be his end, his falling was abruptly halted by a Wyvern that flew by just in time. As Mortimer fell to his doom, Dimitri turned his attention to the Wyvern’s rider.

“Thank you, Claude.”

“No problem,” Claude smiled, “anything for an old friend.”

The battle did not last much longer after Lord Mortimer’s followers realized they had lost their leader. Many retreated, some offered themselves as prisoners, but most died in battle, either out of zealotry or a loss of purpose in life. Claude and some of his men stayed after the fighting subsided to help with cleanup and reconstruction. He and Dimitri watched as citizens and knights of all backgrounds helped each other clean.

“Sure is a sight worth fighting for, isn’t it?” said Claude. Dimitri nodded.

“This is what I want for the future of Fódlan.”

“Sounds like you and I have the same dream. To that end, you have my support.” Claude rested his hands behind his head and stretched. “So, what are you gonna do now that you’ve won this battle? Throw a party? Should I bring some celebratory cheesecake?”

“I have no time to celebrate this victory. Not when there is still much work to be done.”

“Jeez, do you people ever sleep? Try relaxing once in a while, would ya? You might even find out you enjoy it.”

“I cannot relax until I know Rose is safe.” Claude was quiet for a few moments. He looked as though he was debating something in his mind, but his face was neutral enough to hide anything beyond that.

“Yeah… me neither.”

As the night grew late, Claude made his leave. He left some Alliance troops behind to continue helping the Kingdom repair Fhirdiad. The troops were given rooms at an inn for the night and began work again at sunrise. Hours passed, but before the sun had reached its zenith, construction turned to conflict.

King Dimitri was preparing to check on the progress in the marketplace, but even from the hallways of his castle, yells and screams from the former battlefield came to his ears.

“What is all that commotion?” he asked Dedue.

“Likely the reconstruction efforts, your majesty.” Dimitri narrowed his eyes and quickened his pace.

“That doesn’t sound like construction.”

The two burst outside, but instead of Kingdom and Alliance soldiers working together to rebuild, they found the Alliance troops attacking the scrambling Kingdom armies. King Dimitri called over a nearby knight running by and ordered an explanation.

“We don’t know what happened. Everything was going smoothly until the troops from Leicester decided to attack us out of nowhere!”

Dimitri let the knight go, fuming. Dedue was about to say something to him, but the king turned on his heel, intending to march straight back to his study. On the way, he ran into a pegasus knight preparing to join the fray outside. He stopped the knight with the boom of his voice.

“You there, halt. I need you to write and deliver a message to the Duke of Leicester.” The knight was caught off guard at first, then blinked twice, reached into a satchel, pulled out a pen and paper, and nodded. “Ask him why he would go out of his way to send troops to help us only to stab us in the back.” He thought for a moment as the knight scribbled down the words. “And tell him if I have no response from him in a day’s time, I’m marching over there to speak with him myself.” The knight saluted after finishing the last sentence, then set out to deliver the message immediately.

“What should we do in the meantime?” Dedue asked.

“Kill,” Dimitri growled, “kill every last one of them.”

The fighting continued all day, the little progress made on reconstruction completely obliterated. Dimitri commanded troops and occasionally joined the battle, but by nightfall, Dedue convinced him to rest for a while. “It would not do for the army's leader to over-exert himself,” he had said.

It might not have mattered either way. No matter how much Dimitri tossed and turned, he could not find rest. His mind continually grasped for explanations he didn’t have. Why would Claude betray him? What was he plotting? Did he know anything about Rose’s disappearance? How many more people had to die before Fódlan could know peace?
Giving up on rest completely, Dimitri decided his time would be better spent helping the battle. He went to his study to grab his good lance, but the first thing he saw when he entered the room was a letter on the desk with the seal of the Leicester Alliance. He opened it immediately.

“Dimitri,
I don’t blame you for being confused, but I also don’t intend to let you in on my motives just yet. War would be so boring without any surprises, wouldn’t it? Trust me when I say it hurts me as much as it hurts you.
You want an explanation, so I’ll give you this much: you should be careful who you trust. I would think you of all people would know that people are not always what they claim to be. You certainly present yourself in a different light now than you did in our Academy days. Edelgard was right back then when she said your leadership would suffer by being too trusting. Seeing ‘the truth behind a person’s words,’ as she put it, remember? Seriously, it takes a real idiot to mess up this badly.
Oh, speaking of, I heard she may stop by for a visit. If you see her, go ahead and tell her I say hi.
— Claude von Riegan”

Dimitri’s hands gripped the letter so tightly that he nearly ripped it in half. What kind of explanation was this? After everything they had been through together… and what did he mean Edelgard “may stop by?” Footsteps interrupted his thoughts. He grasped his lance firmly and turned around, ready to strike.

“Your majesty?” the freckled sniper said in surprise. Dimitri’s tense muscles relaxed.

“Ashe. Sorry, I’ve been a bit on edge tonight.”

“No, no, I’m sorry. I thought you had retired for the night.”

“I couldn’t sleep. Anyway, I’m glad to see you’re well. I haven’t seen you since…” Ashe’s gaze fell to the ground. Ingrid’s fate affected everyone that knew her, but few took it as personally as Ashe did. They trained together almost every day and were even knighted on the same day. He didn’t even join the final battle against Lord Mortimer. He was too grief-stricken.

Dimitri pondered for a moment, his jaw set. He refused to have more friends taken from him. He already had far too many souls weighing on his conscience. There could never be a repeat of what happened at Duscur. He wouldn’t let it happen. When he spoke again, he steeled his voice to keep his grief from overtaking him. He would have to stay strong to avenge those he had lost.

“How is the battle going?” At once, Ashe made perfect eye contact and straightened his posture. His eyes were glossy, but he didn’t shed a single tear.

“It’s slowed down, but it doesn’t seem like it’ll come to a halt. We’re expecting another assault possibly before dawn.” Ashe fidgeted with his bowstring, seemingly debating the wisdom of relaying certain information to the irritable king. “And… we’ve spotted an unknown figure lurking around the castle. I was just gathering some other snipers to keep a lookout for that person and take them down if we have to.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Y-your majesty, I—” Dimitri had already moved past the stuttering sniper and was halfway down the hallway when he caught up to him. “We can’t guarantee your protection out there. You’re sure to be a target. I…” Ashe stepped in front of the entrance to the top of the castle where the other snipers were, blocking the king’s path. “I can’t let you do this.”

“And I can’t let more people I care about die for my sake.” He pushed Ashe aside and made his way out the archway.

Everything was dark except for the few light sources the snipers had to load their weapons and the flames from the battlefield below. There were soldiers, some horses, and a few grounded Wyverns, but Dimitri didn’t see anything particularly peculiar in the sable night. A few snipers fired their arrows at Alliance soldiers within range, but most stayed still and vigilant, likely to keep from drawing too much attention to themselves.

Then, about three snipers suddenly stood and took aim at the darkness. “They must have heard something,” Ashe explained in a whisper, peering over the wall to look for anything unusual. He gave a few hand signals to one of the others, who then sent a single arrow toward where the sound supposedly came from. Dimitri couldn’t hear anything but distant battle cries, but when the arrow landed, he could make out the vague shape of a person beside it. More than that… it was a woman.

“I’m going down there to investigate,” he whispered to Ashe, and though Ashe protested, he had no choice but to tell the snipers to hold their fire as their king flew down the nearby staircase.

Hands tightened around his lance, Dimitri surveyed the area as best as his limited vision allowed. He thought of Ingrid — a daughter, a knight, and a friend. Respected and loved by so many. She died like the true knight she was, but he could not bear to let anyone else do the same.

“I didn’t take you to be this much of a fool, Dimitri.”

He turned around the instant he heard her voice. The darkness was nearly impossible to see through, but he knew the shape of his opponent well enough to pinpoint the voice.

“Edelgard, what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. Isn’t it dangerous for a king to be out here in an unpredictable war zone?”He could hear her walking around him in a slow circle, but he couldn’t pinpoint her exact location.

“I’m not afraid of bloodshed. I would rather be out here myself than have my soldiers risk their lives for me.”

“I would be careful if I were you. When running on emotional whims, sometimes the heart with the most admirable intentions is the first to fall.”

“You’ve lost your element of surprise. Claude already told me to expect you.”

“Claude? You mean the one who betrayed your trust?” A torch was lit in front of Dimitri, giving a face to the voice that spoke to him. Edelgard was not in her normal emperor attire, and her hair was pulled into a side ponytail. Dimitri would have struck her instantly if he didn’t notice that, aside from the torch in her hand, she was unarmed. “I’ve come here alone. It is not my aim to fight you.”

“Then what do you want,” Dimitri asked dangerously. Edelgard’s gaze carried more pain than her lips would ever tell. She sighed.

“Your help.”

He lowered his lance slowly. “What?”

“The Adrestian Empire is in shambles, most of my trusted advisors are either wounded or dead, but you… you are thriving. So, here I am.”
“I thought the Empire had been doing well since the war.” Edelgard shook her head.

“Our relations with neighboring territories are perhaps more peaceful than ever, but chaos and panic abound inside the country.” Dimitri observed her more closely. She had scars, some small bruises, and stray hairs everywhere. Compared to the well-kept Edelgard he had always known, the sight was jarring. “I knew that if anyone could help us become even half of what we used to be, it would be you, Dimitri.”

“And why should I trust you?” As much as his heart went out to her, Dimitri had to remember this was still the woman that started a war under everyone’s noses that killed so many loved ones.

“If I were trying to deceive you, do you think I would come to you like this? Alone, in the dark, and in your own territory?”

“Fine,” Dimitri said after a moment. “I believe you. But before I commit to anything, I have something to ask you.”

“I suppose I’m in no position to refuse.” Dimitri drew closer to Edelgard, his expression stern. The emperor did not flinch.

“Were you responsible for the Tragedy of Duscur?” Edelgard stayed silent, face unreadable. Dimitri could feel his heart beating faster. Why wouldn’t she say anything? Unless… Before his mind fully caught up, his hand slammed her into the wall of the castle, holding her by the shoulder. “Answer me!!”

“This matters a lot to you, doesn’t it?” Edelgard asked in complete neutrality. She chanced a glance upward. She could make out at least one arrowhead glistening in the moonlight. They were being carefully watched.

“Give me an answer,” he growled.

“The long answer is complicated,” Edelgard admitted, “but simply put: yes, I am.”

“Then I’ll make you pay for what you’ve done.”

Dimitri swung his lance at her head, but Edelgard pulled a hidden dagger from behind her back and deflected it, then took advantage of his momentary shock to escape from his hold. They dueled viciously, dancing around the discarded torch’s slowly spreading flames. Dimitri stabbed his lance again, grazing her cheek but ultimately missing, leaving himself open to her counterattack. Edeldgard stabbed his arm, unarming him as he groaned in pain. She then kicked him in the chest, sending him to his knees.

“You know, you could save yourself some heartache if you learned to look toward the future instead of living in the past,” Edelgard said as she walked toward him. Dimitri glared at her as he cradled his arm.

“You are responsible for my father’s death. You are the reason so many innocent people are dead. You are a monster… and now it is my job as king to slay you. Prepare yourself, witch.”

In the blink of an eye, Dimitri was on his feet again but instead of reaching for his lance, he hurled himself toward Edelgard and pinned her to the ground. His brute strength was far superior to hers, so Edelgard relied on her wits.

“If it’s any consolation, I never intended for any of it. If by any means I could have stopped it, I would.”

“Liar! Things like this don’t happen by accident. You had it all planned from the start!”

“And even if that were true? What of it now? What would killing me accomplish?”

“The dead must be avenged.”

“The dead are gone. No amount of killing will change that. It’ll only add more guilt to your conscience.”

“Quiet, witch! Your wretched life ends here.”

She knew she would only have a fraction of a second to do it, but the second Dimitri lifted his fist to punch, she uppercut his jaw with all the might she could muster. It was distraction enough for her to get back on her feet and kick his side. As he writhed on the ground, she twirled the dagger in her fingers.

“It’s sad. I have always wondered if perhaps in another life we could have been allies, friends, or even lovers. But it seems as long as you continue to fixate on previous misfortunes, we shall remain in opposition.”

The flames had already devoured all the grass around them, casting a menacing haze on the emperor’s figure. Dimitri’s vision was blurring with rage as he watched her step closer, positioning her dagger to strike. Was his fate truly to die by the same hand that had allowed so many of his loved ones to fall?

Arrows struck the ground one after another, drawing a line between the two. Edelgard staggered back, then looked up at the source. The snipers fired a few more arrows that she easily dodged. Dimitri wasted no time taking advantage of the distraction. He rolled, grabbed his lance again, stood, and lunged at Edelgard. At once, he felt the savory satisfaction of a blade piercing through flesh.

“Well played,” Edelgard coughed, clutching the lance in her stomach. Her eyes glistened with the reflection of the flames that surrounded them. It almost seemed like she expected sympathy, but all Dimitri could see in those eyes was everything he had ever lost. He glared at those eyes, and she smiled. “Somehow, part of me always knew it would end this way.”

“I don’t want your praise,” Dimitri growled, his gaze surprisingly cool. “Eventually, I too will fall.”

“Then I suggest you go and finish what you’ve started. There is no going halfway. With my death, you—”

Dimitri ripped his lance from her stomach and stabbed it into her throat. The light from her eyes faded immediately and her body flopped onto the ground. He stabbed her again and again until every part of her was soaked in blood. His stare never wavered.

“See you in the eternal flames, El.”

“Your majesty!”

Ashe and Dedue sprinted to their king’s side, prepared to defend. When they reached him and saw the corpse his weapon rested in, Ashe looked like he was going to be sick. Dedue placed his hand on Dimitri’s shoulder, and though he flinched at the touch, the king finally ripped his gaze from the corpse and looked at him, the storm in his eye slowly subsiding.

Dimitri grasped his hair between his fingers, consciously needing to remind himself how to breathe. How had he let this happen? One moment he was considering offering her aid, the next she was stabbed to death at his feet, by his hands. His whole body began to shake, and his vision blurred. The last thing he saw was Dedue asking him something that was too muffled to understand, then everything went black.

Dedue caught Dimitri as he fell forward into his arms. Noticing Ashe, eyes wide and round and face a bit paler than usual, he maintained his normal calm but serious expression.

“His majesty has not been sleeping well lately,” he explained. “He must have overexerted himself.”

“T-that does make sense,” Ashe relaxed a bit and steadied his voice. “Between the fatigue, the adrenaline rush of battle, and the blood loss of his wounds, it’s only natural his body would shut down eventually.” They stood in silence for another moment, allowing the last few hours to sink in.

“You should recruit help to put out these flames,” Deduce broke the silence. “I will deliver his majesty to his quarters.”

“Right, you’re right,” Ashe straightened his posture and wiped the sweat from his brow, but he paused when his gaze landed on Edelgard again. He spoke again, his voice more solemn. “And we should send a messenger to the Empire, letting them know the fate of their leader.”

Dedue nodded. As he was about to walk away, he offered Ashe one more bit of encouragement. “We must not allow this to stop us. We must move forward, to the battles ahead.”

“Yes,” Ashe said. “To the battles ahead.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, preparations were made to travel to the Alliance and confront Claude directly about his actions against the Kingdom. The hope was to make peace and settle the dispute civilly, but if worse turned to worst, a small army was prepared to defend.

Dimitri ordered Dedue to oversee the fighting and essentially act as king in his absence. Dedue objected to this passionately but ultimately could not disobey a direct order from his king. Ashe also offered his company, but Dimitri again insisted that he had to go alone.

“This is a personal mission as much as it is a political one,” he explained, “and I wouldn’t ask either of you to entangle yourselves in such a mess.” He remembered Lord Mortimer’s words about Rose: she won’t ever have to see her dear brother turn into the beast that’s in front of me now. As dangerous as it could be to face Claude alone, Dimitri knew it had to be done.

As he and his small army entered the courtyard of the Duke, they ran into a tall man with a florid complexion and greying hair. He stood with his chest puffed out, fingers stroking his beard. His face was cool as stone, his eyes sharp as blades.

“What are you doing here, King Dimitri?”

“I’m here to speak with the Duke. Who are you?”

“Really now, you should watch your tone,” the man laughed. “You are speaking to none other than Count Riegan after all.”

“Count…?” The old man smiled.

“As I’m sure you’ve heard, I have formally stepped down as the Duke of Leicester, leaving my inheritance to my grandson, Claude. But naturally, I wanted to make sure no ill befell my people during the transition. So, my last act as Duke was to ensure a spot was reserved for me at the Roundtable, granting me the title of Count.”

“That seems… unnecessarily complicated.”

“Say what you will, but that decision has served me quite well. If I had left this land under the rule of my grandson, there is no telling all the damage he could have done.”

“What do you mean by that? Where is Claude?”

“Now, now, let’s not get hasty. Claude is safe. As is his precious Rose, for now.”

“You have Rose?!” Dimitri gasped, clenching his jaw to contain his rage.

“She has been a stumbling block for our Duke since the beginning and therefore an enemy to our country. But have no fear, King Dimitri. She has been given the best jail cell we have to offer.”

“She’s in jail?!” Dimitri whipped out his lance, pointing it at the Count and taking another step closer. “I demand that you release her at once.” The Count only smiled, never even touching the hilt of the sword on his belt.

“You think you can walk in here and force your will on us?” They stared each other down. Dimitri sighed, never dulling his intense glare.

“No,” he said, putting his lance away, “but now I see who my true enemy is.” He signaled for his soldiers to stay positioned out front while he walked past the Count toward the palace entrance.

“Claude is in his study,” Count Riegan called over his shoulder. “I trust you two won’t do anything foolish.”

Dimitri traversed the foreign hallways with wary eyes and a steady hand resting on his lance. None of the servants or guards in the building dared to approach or even speak to him, which was for the best — he wasn’t exactly in the mood to chat. When he reached what he presumed was Claude’s study, Dimitri easily kicked the door open and entered.
Claude was seated at his desk. Several other men surrounded him, presumably advisors or councilmen. Most of the men were from Duscur, though a few seemed to carry Almyran blood. They were all wearing dark expressions, but one man’s intimidating gaze softened instantly the moment it met Dimitri’s, if only slightly.

“Dedue, I thought you were in the Kingdom in my absence. What are you doing here?”

“Forgive me, your majesty. I had to find the Duke to make certain he had no part in this plot to take our lands and place a tyrant on our throne.” Dimitri looked at him incredulously. Claude cleared his throat and stood from his desk. With a wave of his hand, all the other men left the room, the last one shutting the door behind him. Claude smiled at his old friend.

“We have a lot to discuss.”

In the confidence of his study, Claude filled Dimitri in on the recent happenings of the Alliance. He told him about his grandfather’s greed and how he only stepped down from his position as Duke publically, closely monitoring all of Claude’s decisions and actions from the shadows. He had been the one that wished to attack the Kingdom with the aim of wearing down their forces enough to overtake them and claim the country as their own. While Claude did what he could to lessen the damage, he had to maintain an image consistent with his grandfather's wishes to protect Rose, who had been kept in the jail in the Alliance as leverage, originally for Lord Mortimer’s rebellion.

“That was why I had to send you that unsavory reply,” Claude said, leaning against his desk. “I knew it would tick you off just enough to cause a commotion, but not too much for you to lose all faith in me. Or so I hoped. I was counting on you hunting me down in my own country so we could combine our strength to take down my grandfather.”

“So was Mortimer conspiring with the former Duke all along?”

“I don’t think so. I heard he had family ties here, which was how he got access to the jails. Either way, my grandfather took his misadventure and Rose’s capture as a gateway to bringing all of Faerghus under his control.”

“I must again apologize for disobeying your orders, your majesty,” Dedue interjected, bowing his head low. “I was… uneasy about what you might have done if you believed Claude to be your enemy. I came here seeking the truth so I knew how best to assist you in your quest.”

“Of course I accept your apology, Dedue,” Dimitri assured him, still processing everything he had just learned, “but who did you leave in charge of the Kingdom in our absence?”

“A handful of people — some of your most trusted advisors.” Dimitri nodded. That should do for now, though it would be better if he returned home sooner rather than later. He trusted Dedue with his life and his land — that wasn’t something he could say of many other advisors. He deliberated his next move carefully, then turned to Claude.

“I need your help to get Rose out of here. If anything happens to me, she must rule the Kingdom.”

“I will do everything in my power to free her,” Claude said and nodded resolutely.

“Good. Then there is no time to lose.”

The three men made their way to the prison as non-conspicuously as they could manage. Still, with the Count’s guards eyeing their every move, the trio wasn’t quite as invisible as Claude had hoped. As they approached the entrance to the prison, the two guards stared at them suspiciously. Once they saw the lance in Dimitri’s hands, though, their faces quickly contorted into fear. Before they could make a peep, Dimitri cut them up with two swings of his weapon. Claude looked back and forth at Dimitri and Dedue incredulously. Neither paid his concern any mind as they entered the prison.

They encountered two or three more guards on their way down the musty hallway, each facing the same cruel fate at the end of the same bloody lance. All Claude could do was watch as his friend took life after life with not as much as a twitch in his stony facial expression. It was chilling. Even the other prisoners were afraid of him, backing away into the furthest corners of their cells in hopes of not being noticed.

Then, finally, they reached Rose’s cell. She was in the corner, tied to the wall, something akin to disgust written on her face. Her beautiful golden hair was disheveled and her face was bruised. Even so, Dimitri’s face immediately softened at the sight of her.

“Sister, are you alright?” he asked, grabbing the prison bars. His hands and clothes were stained with soldiers' blood, as was his lance.

“I-I know why you’re here,” Rose spoke with what little strength she could muster, “you’ve come to kill me. Well then, go ahead and get it over with. I‘ll cooperate.”

“Rose, what are you saying? It’s me, you’re brother.”

“Don’t fool me into a false sense of security! I know that, as king, you cannot let a traitor like me continue to live.”

“I-I don’t understand. If anything, it is I who betrayed you. You were captured during Mortimer’s rebellion, and I didn’t even notice. I failed to protect you while you were here suffering—”

“I came by choice!” she blurted. Dimitri was speechless. “After I was attacked at the castle, and the assassins broke into my room, I… they told me they were taking me hostage, and I said they didn’t have to because I wanted to leave anyway.” Tears started to roll down her cheeks, but fire still burned in her eyes. “I told them I didn’t want to be around you anymore!”

“R-Rose… why?”

“Because you were never around for me! So I went with them. And everything was fine for a little while, but then Count Riegan, he… I…” she sobbed.

“What did he do to you?” Dimitri growled, gripping the bars even tighter.

“I was found kissing a man! A man I shouldn’t have kissed.” Her eyes darted to his side for just a moment, so Dimitri cast a glance in the same direction, where Claude was standing, looking dejected. He returned his attention to Rose. “The Count was furious with me, claiming I was ‘preventing the Duke from making wise choices,’ so he threw me in here as punishment.”

“So it’s your fault she’s in jail,” Dimitri said, turning to Claude. “What were you thinking kissing my sister?!”

“H-hey, now,” Claude laughed nervously, raising his hands in surrender, “let’s not get ahead of ourselves. She initiated the kiss, not me.”

“Right, unless it was a tactic to get under your grandfather’s skin. A way to spite him for refusing to pass down his inheritance for all this time.”

“I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy ruffling the old man’s feathers a bit, but—” Rose interrupted him.

“Well while you were having fun ‘ruffling feathers,’ I was being slapped and beaten!” Both men looked back at her with wide eyes. “You’re lucky the Count still wanted me alive to lure Dimitri to Derdriu.”

“Rose, I never wanted—”

“Don’t even try it! I’m not the gullible fool you take me for. Before he threw me in here, the Count himself said he asked you if you would let me die for him and you said yes.” Dimitri’s head turned slowly toward Claude again. Claude audibly gulped.

“You monster,” Dimitri snarled, snatching Claude’s throat in his hand. “I should have known better than to trust you. Do you think life is yours to play with?” His grip grew tighter. Claude gasped in pain, his eyes widening with fear. Rose’s face also showed fear as all she could do was watch the scene unfold. “Do you still feel that way about her?”

“Of course not! I love her! I would give my own life for her if it came to it.”

“Then tell me how you could do this to her? To leave her here to suffer alone in the darkness?”

“I was still trying to earn my grandfather’s trust! If I had said anything different, it could have meant much worse for the both of you. Maybe even all of Faerghus. It was messy, but it was the best decision to make with the end goal in mind.” Claude chanced a look at Rose. Her cheeks were wet with fresh tears, but her glistening eyes stayed locked with his. “Dimitri, you have to know I would never try to hurt her.” He felt the grip on his throat loosen slightly. “In fact, for the longest time, I kinda got the impression you wanted her all to yourself.”

“What is that supposed to mean? She’s my sister, you idiot!!”

“Ugh, not like that, gross!” Claude coughed at the sudden jolt of Dimitri’s hand that pinned him against the wall. “I mean I always thought you to be the protective type. But I will remind you, Rose kissed me first. It shocked me. I tried to tell her not to go and do things like that behind your back, but she wouldn’t listen. She seemed awfully adamant about cheating—”

“Ew,” Rose interrupted. “He’s my brother, you idiot!!”

“—about cheating your trust, is what I was going to say. Come on, you two. You look practically the same, you really think I’m that dumb?” They both glared at him. Claude sighed in exasperation. “Look, obviously words are not exactly my best friends right now, but that doesn’t change the truth. Why don’t you let me go, and put this all behind us, yeah? You’ll need my help if you want any chance at taking down my grandfather. He may be kin, but he’s done some pretty messed up things and deserves to pay for all the unrest he has caused in Fódlan.”

“He’ll pay,” Dimitri said, slowly releasing his grasp, “with his life.”

“Glad we’re on the same page, my brother. Now would you mind letting me go? I quite enjoy breathing freely and I miss it dearly.” Dimitri let Claude go and picked up his lance to break into Rose’s cell. With one swing, the door was destroyed. Dimitri stood in the doorway for a moment, then looked back over his shoulder.

“Wait, did you just call me… brother?” When Claude stayed unusually quiet, he turned to face him again. “This is one of your jokes, yes?”

“Wow, my mouth is getting me in all kinds of trouble today,” Claude muttered. Dimitri seemed as if he was about to hurt him if Rose’s small voice hadn’t cut in.

“Dimitri.” All anger drained from his face instantly as he looked back at her. “Please, don’t hurt him.”

“Rose… it’s a joke…”

“No, Dimitri, it’s true. Remember I said Claude had a gift for me all those days ago?” She extended the fingers on her left hand, one of them adorned with a simple silver band with a precious jewel in its center. Both Dimitri and Claude seemed shocked by it, the former colored with disbelief and the latter with relief. Rose watched her brother’s reaction closely, unsure of what she could do if he decided he didn’t like it and snapped. “Are you mad?”

“Mad?” Dimitri responded in a low voice, then it softened. “How could I be mad? My little sister is growing up, and I’m blessed enough to be around to see it.” Rose and Claude released a breath at the same time as Dimitri moved further into the cell. “My dear little sister… I know you are more than anyone could ask for in a wife. He is a lucky man. And Rose, I don’t want to hear more of this talk of treason from you. It doesn’t matter what I should do as king. I will not execute one of my own blood.”

“I… I wish I could believe that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw what you did to those guards — I saw the look in your eye. And I saw the same look when you pinned Claude to the wall just now. It was… barely human. It definitely wasn’t Dimitri, it was… something else. Who’s to say that something else would give me any exception if I made it angry?”

“Rose, I would nev—”

“You may not,” she said as she stared at him earnestly, “but the beast may.” Dimitri had no more words to comfort her with. He knew it was not an unfair accusation, and he would lie if he said he had never before thought about the prospect. “It… it scares me.”

Before Dimitri could respond, Claude cut between them and untied Rose. He lifted her back to her feet and kissed her.

“I’ll be honest,” he said to her, “you had me a little worried with that whole ‘a man I shouldn’t have kissed’ thing… You weren’t actually being serious though, right?”

“I’ve always had my doubts,” Rose said, “but never about you.”

“It would be best if we left here soon,” Dedue — who had been standing back and keeping watch — chimed in. “More guards are likely to be on their way.” The other three looked at each other and nodded.

“Shall we, then?” Claude said as he led the way out of the jail. Dimitri caught Rose’s hand before she could fully exit. His grasp was not particularly strong or harsh, but Rose still looked back with fear hidden in her expression.

“Rose, I’m sorry you don’t feel safe around me. I am truly sorry. Please, just know that once this is all over, if we survive the battles coming, it will get better. You may marry Claude and feel safe with him, and you’d never have to stand by my side again if you weren’t comfortable—” Rose cut him short by surprising him with a big hug.

“Dimitri,” she began, “there’s something I really need to tell you.” Footsteps of soldiers sounded from down the hallway. Dedue and Claude assumed fighting positions.

“I’ll have to ask you to save it for now. It seems we have more urgent matters at present.” It seemed he was about ready to let her go, but before he did, he added, “Just know that… I’m glad you’re safe.” Rose smiled.

“Well, I’m glad you’re safe, too… idiot.”

As quickly as the guards filed into the jail, they were mowed down by either the smash of an axe or the pierce of a lance. Claude fended off whatever soldier came near him or Rose, doing his best to shield her view of Dimitri as he tore apart his enemies. Once they had exited the jail and made their way out of the palace, King Dimitri addressed his team.

“Come, we must get to the Count quickly and put an end to his tyranny. Claude, I want you to come with me. Dedue, I trust you and you alone to take care of Rose.” The other men nodded.

“Understood, your majesty.”

“At the ready.”

Dedue took Rose by the hand and led her away to escort her safely back to Faerghus while Dimitri and Claude continued running through the courtyard to find Count Riegan. Just as they exited the courtyard, they saw a large group of riders charging toward them.

“Claude,” Dimitri asked, “are you armed?”

“I’ve got a pocket knife, but I hardly consider that being armed.”

“Then I’ll handle this myself.”

“Whoa there, brother. I didn’t say I’d sit out and let you get all the action,” Claude said, grabbing Dimitri’s shoulder. “I’ll head to the stables and find some riders to help us out. Surely not everyone in this palace pledges blind allegiance to my grandfather. I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said as he ran off. “Just don’t go dying on me until then, got it?” Dimitri nodded as he tightened his grip on his weapon.

Without hesitation, he tore down soldier after soldier, sparing no one. The cavaliers had the advantage of speed, but their precision was laughable. He knocked men off horses, impaled soldiers, and crushed some skulls with his own hands. Even as more and more riders came, not one could land more than a scratch on the savage king. What used to be the outskirts of a city had rapidly transformed into a battlefield soaked in blood.

The fighting seemed like it would never end, but the more he killed, the easier it came. Body after body met its end at his lance, and the roads that led to city streets were filled with the dead, the wounded, and the fleeing. Then, finally, Dimitri spotted a carriage with a wealthy-looking man inside it. The man was speaking to one of the wounded, apathy in his features. Dimitri wasted no time marching toward the carriage.

“Count Riegan,” he roared, “your tyranny ends here. Lay down your weapons.” The Count looked at him, intrigue in his eyes.

“Do you really think that my weapons are what make me so dangerous?” Dimitri narrowed his eyes, biting back a retort. The Count smiled as he stepped out of his carriage to face the king. “Then we shall see who is more dangerous, you or I.”

Riegan drew his sword and swung at Dimitri. It was a sloppy swing, so he easily dodged, then retaliated with a jab of his lance. The jab hit the Count’s shoulder, causing him to stagger backward. He tried again to swing at the king, this time much too high and too slow, giving Dimitri ample time to duck and retaliate once again. This time, though, his jab was blocked by the Count’s shield.

“You are a skilled one, your majesty,” the Count said, “but you will learn there is more to combat than swinging weapons and dodging attacks.” Count Riegan ran circles around Dimitri — he was surprisingly able-bodied for an elderly man — and tried to strike him from behind. Dimitri blocked the attack by catching the Count’s arm and swinging him onto the ground. The Count rose to his feet again as quickly as he could, but he was not quick enough. Dimitri pinned him to the ground, lance at his throat.

“You are everything I despise in a man. You’re no different than the likes of those involved in the Tragedy of Duscur! You kill for the sake of killing, then continue on living your carefree, pompous life as if nothing happened!”

“Oh, now you want to talk?” The Count grinned as he kicked the king off of him, slashing his shoulder with his blade. Dimitri staggered back, already preparing for another counterstrike. Riegan swung his sword at Dimitri’s head, which he blocked with his lance. He tried to swing his lance at the Count’s feet, but it was blocked as well. They both attempted another swing, interlocking weapons in a struggle of brute strength. “I didn’t realize you still knew how to speak the civil human tongue. Consider me impressed, you beast.”

The enraged king easily outmatched the Count in strength, so Riegan disengaged his blade and dodged to the left, causing Dimitri to fall to the ground. He sauntered toward the fallen king, readying his sword for a final blow. Just as he raised his blade above his head, Dimitri seized the open opportunity and stabbed Count Riegan in the chest. It was not deep enough to be fatal but it caught the Count by surprise, dropping his weapon and staggering back one step.

“The only way I’m going down,” he spat, clutching his wound, “is at the hands of a human, you beast.” A lone arrow hit the ground between the two men. It was followed by the sound of a large group of horses charging toward the battlefield.

“Oh the irony to hear you of all people talk about humanity,” Claude chided, aiming his bow again as his steed charged forward. “Now that the party’s arrived, let’s try that again.”
Count Riegan muttered some curses under his breath as he surveyed the battlefield desperately. Very few of his men were left alive, and even fewer were still able to fight. With arrows raining down on him, he clutched his chest wound and sprinted to the nearest of his remaining cavaliers. With some difficulty, he pushed the man off the horse, mounted, and rode into the city. Claude’s band of riders halted their charge as soon as they caught up with Dimitri, watching the Count’s great escape.

“Come on,” Claude said, dismounting and reaching out a hand to Dimitri, “I’ll bet you anything he’s headed for the city center to regroup his troops. It’ll be a real pain if we don’t get to him before he has that chance. Let’s finish this together.”

“Yes, let’s.” Dimitri’s voice rumbled with rage. There was a dangerous gleam in his eye, one that almost seemed to take joy in the thrill of the hunt. Claude thought of mentioning it but thought it better to focus on the task at hand. He and Dimitri each mounted a horse and galloped down the same path toward the city center.

As they stormed the city center, nearby civilians screamed in horror. A few of the Count’s soldiers had already been stationed to keep out their enemies, but none were a match for Dimitri’s bloody lance. He struck them down one by one, be they man or woman, soldier or healer. Claude tried to tell him to slow down, that the Count was their true target and they should focus on that. None of his words stopped the king from swinging his weapon at all who opposed him. It didn’t even seem like he heard them.

He charged deeper into the city, leaving Claude behind to handle any remaining troops and ensure civilian safety. Soon, the Count was in sight. He had yet to treat his wounds, still bleeding from his chest and shoulder. Even so, he stood tall, sword drawn, and faced King Dimitri with a fierce glare. Dimitri dismounted.

“I must admit,” he said with a meager laugh, “I had not counted on you being so much like me.”

“Silence! I’ll kill you. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll kill you!”

“I remember a day when I was just like you. I thought I was everything — that I was unstoppable. Just as I did, you shall learn that no one is invincible.”

With a wave of his hand, the Count sent two soldiers charging toward the king. Dimitri cut each of them in half with a single swing. As he rapidly advanced, Count Riegan snapped his fingers. Just as their weapons clashed, fire rained down on the city from strategically positioned archers’ flaming arrows. Almost anything that could catch fire did as the two attacked, dodged, parried, and blocked each other.

One swing of the lance just a little too wide was all the Count needed to finally land a hit on the enraged king. He sliced his arms, then kicked the king to the ground. Instead of attempting to finish him off again, though, he retreated to his temporary base of operations some feet away. Dimitri stayed on his knees, staring at the ground.

Claude and the rest of the troops arrived soon after, all in shock at what had become of the city streets. As his men frantically worked to put out the fires without getting shot by the flames themselves, Claude spotted Dimitri. He ran to him, asking if he was alright, but Dimitri didn’t look at him. Instead, he started laughing maniacally.

Shadows glided across the burning city. As Claude looked up, he felt his heart sink into his stomach.

“Sweet flirtatious oblivion, those are freaking dragons!”

Whether they were actually of the race of dragons known as Nabateans or if they were simply Wyverns didn’t matter much. Whatever they were, they apparently weren’t friendly. More fire rained from the sky, scorching the city completely and even killing some of the archers that started the fire. Dimitri clutched his bleeding arms, still laughing maniacally as he surveyed the skies.

“Is this supposed to be some sort of divine punishment?” he yelled to the heavens. He laughed some more, then his tone dropped dramatically. “I will fight until my last breath. I MUST KILL THE COUNT!”

He rose to his feet, staggering only slightly. He raced in the direction Count Riegan fled, Claude following him suit. All the while, Dimitri laughed and laughed. Few soldiers dared to go near him, but those who did were met with the most brutal and merciless deaths. One guard managed to stab Dimitri’s foot, but the enraged king killed the guard and continued his charge as if nothing had happened. It was as if his mind was so far removed from his physical body that he couldn’t even feel pain anymore.

Claude rushed to Dimitri’s side as quickly as he could. He had no idea what was going on in that man’s head, but it didn’t take a genius to piece together that something was obviously wrong. He stepped in front of Dimitri, blocking his path to the Count. Dimitri nearly stabbed him, but he dodged just in time. Claude retaliated in the first way he could think of. He slapped the deranged king in the face, which seemed to do little more than halt his advance and make him look angrier.

“Come on, Dimitri,” Claude pleaded, “you have to stay with me. I need your strength.”

“Strength…” his voice rumbled, a sort of gravely low roar that didn’t even sound like Dimitri anymore. “I’ll show you strength.” He shoved Claude to the ground and continued his march forward. The more he picked up speed, the more he laughed uncontrollably.

Claude got up and ran to catch up as fast as he could. Dimitri was going to get himself killed. The flames were becoming more intense by the minute — it wouldn’t be long before they spread to the outer rings of the city. It was enough of a miracle that his clothes hadn’t caught on fire yet. It seemed Dimitri couldn’t say the same, as the edges of his cape were slowly being eaten away by the flames. Still, he didn’t seem to care.

Just as Claude was about two arms’ length away, one of the dragons hovering over the chaos let out a massive roar, sending a fireball of equal magnitude hurling to the earth. It crashed directly on Dimitri’s head, the impact pushing Claude back once again.

“Dimitri!!” he screamed. The only semblance of a response he received was the delusional king’s wild laughter as the flames destroyed his physical body. Claude fell to his knees. This couldn’t really be it. This wasn’t happening. It had to be a dream — a nightmare. It had to be…

The chaotic noise of the battlefield was muffled in Claude’s ears. All he could think about was if what he just witnessed was real or not. What was he going to do? What would he tell Rose? The entire Kingdom? It was his job to have Dimitri’s back and he blew it. All of these thoughts and more bombarded his brain faster than the fireball that destroyed his best friend. For a moment, he questioned what he was even fighting for anymore. Maybe it was better to give up now before anyone else suffered…

No… this wasn’t the end. No matter what, Claude had to face his grandfather and end the ongoing stream of bloodshed. It was his responsibility as Duke, as a friend, and as a brother. Claude rose to his feet and snatched a sword from a nearby soldier’s body, gripping the handle so tightly his knuckles turned white. He took a deep breath and, with tears forming in his eyes, he made his way to Count Riegan’s hideout.

The room was dark save for two candles hanging on opposite walls. The Count’s back was turned and didn’t move an inch when Claude entered. He waited a moment, but when Claude made no move, he turned around to look at his grandson.

“It’s over, Grandfather,” Claude said with all the courage he could muster. “Don’t hold this against me, okay?” He readied his sword.

“I can’t believe it,” Count Riegan chuckled, “I can’t believe it would end this way. My own grandson raising his sword against me.”

“Well, it has.” He watched the Count for a moment. Surely he didn’t intend to simply let himself be slain? What was the old man plotting? The Count took advantage of Claude’s hesitation.

“My son, we could rule Fódlan together, you and I. We don’t have to kill each other. Then you can live happily — with Rose.” Claude lowered his blade to his side.

“You really have some nerve to talk about living happily after what you did to my best friend. But even still,” Claude sighed, “I can’t kill you, Grandfather.”

“No,” he responded, face darkening, “you can’t.”

The Count unsheathed his sword and swung at Claude’s head, but Claude parried it with his own sword just in time. He tried to retaliate, but the half-hearted jab was easily blocked by the Count’s shield. They both took a step back from each other. Then, Count Riegan tried to stab Claude but changed course for his arm at the last second. Luckily, Claude was able to parry the blow, deflecting the sword but allowing Riegan to make a second strike at his unprotected neck. He could have struck him down at that very moment, but he didn’t. He hesitated.

The Count suddenly collapsed to his knees, dropping his sword beside him. He clutched his chest, poorly bandaged and soaking his clothes in blood. He began taking shallow breaths and his hands began to shake. Claude stepped away from him, making sense of what just happened.

“Why did you have to make it come to this?” Claude asked, shaking his head. “You’ve gone and lost too much blood and now if I don’t kill you I’ll look bad.”

“Don’t mock me, child.”

“That's Duke Riegan to you, old man.”

Claude closed his eyes and raised his sword; the Count bowed his head bitterly. Before he gave himself any more time to think about ut, Claude did what must be done. One thrust and the body collapsed in a pool of its own blood. The room was eerily quiet after that. The clatter Claude’s sword made once he dropped it reverberated off every wall. His hands were shaking uncontrollably as his mind caught up with his actions. He took a few moments to control his breathing and consider his next plan of action.
Just then, one of the Count’s soldiers burst into the room. Shock and horror colored his face as he stared at the bloody blade in his lord’s corpse. Claude was going to say something to him, but he turned and sprinted away as quickly as he came. With a deep sigh, Claude followed after him.

“Abort mission, abort,” the soldier yelled to his comrades. “The Count is dead!”

Claude stepped outside to see that most of the flames had subsided in the city and the dragons seemed to have had their fun and left. He gathered and ordered his troops to round up the remaining followers of the Count and have them imprisoned for treason. The rest of the day was spent working to rebuild the city and return order to the Leicester Alliance.

~~~~~~~~~

Though there was a constant mountain of work to be done in his country, Claude made preparations to visit Faerghus as soon as possible. He wanted to deliver the news of King Dimitri’s fate personally — especially to Rose. However, when he arrived, the Kingdom guards informed him that Rose was being kept in prison, along with the Duscur man she came with. They claimed he was suspected of abducting her, and she was currently being questioned about her disappearance. Claude was furious to learn this and proved their innocence thanks to his firsthand knowledge and charisma.

Left with little choice, the Kingdom knights escorted the Leicester Duke to their dungeon where Dedue and Rose were being held. Luckily, they didn’t look too much worse for wear. Both of their scowling faces lightened when they saw their visitor. Rose was the first thing Claude saw, and he couldn’t help a smile.

“Home sweet home, huh Rose?” Rose rolled her eyes, a smile playing on her lips.

“Just get me out of here, you idiot.” Claude nodded to the jail keeper, who carried out her request immediately.

“You have my thanks,” Dedue said, “but where is his majesty?” Rose turned her attention to Claude as well, curiously awaiting his response. Claude swallowed hard.

“Yeah, about that…”

One Year Later…

The Holy Kingdom of Leicester was finally starting to thrive. King Claude and Queen Rose worked tirelessly every day to ensure a better life for their people and all of Fódlan. After the turmoil that followed Count Riegan’s demise, the king and queen decided it best to merge their fathers’ respective territories into one land. Even the Adrestian Empire was on the mend, slowly restoring order to their way of life and agreeing to a peace treaty with the Holy Kingdom. While the transitions were difficult, they truly believed it was the path to a more united and more beautiful world.

Claude surveyed the busy city streets below the balcony he stood on, the sunset bathing everything in a brilliant golden light. His wife soon joined him at his side, putting the sunset’s beauty to shame. She greeted him with a kiss on the cheek.

“The view here is pretty different from the one back in the East,” Claude observed. “You don’t have nearly as clear a view of the townsfolk as you do here.”

“It is pretty nice,” Rose agreed. “We’re still planning to build our own palace though, right? Somewhere in the center of the kingdom?” Claude nodded.

“Yeah, I was thinking somewhere right over there. How does the Capital City of Ailell sound?”

“Oh ha ha,” Rose said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve lived in northern Fódlan my whole life. There’s no way that’s happening.”

“Why not? I figured it would be a nice, cozy environment.”

“It’s literally called the Valley of Torment, you idot!” She elbowed him in the gut.

“Hey, I was joking, I was joking!” Claude laughed. He returned his gaze to the town below, leaning his arms against the railing. “In all seriousness, I’m proud of all we’ve done this past year. We truly have started to make Fódlan a better place.” Rose joined him and wrapped an arm around his back, laying her head against his shoulder. “Dimitri would be proud.”

“I know,” she replied in a small voice. “I just wish… I wish I…”

“I know. None of us came out of that conflict without some lingering regret.”

“You realize the last thing I ever said to him, don’t you? I called him an idiot. I never even got the chance to tell him I love him,” she sniffled. “Or that I forgive him.” Claude hugged her tenderly.

“I think he already knew. And even if he didn’t, I guarantee that it never changed how he felt about you. Dimitri was a good man.”

“Yes,” she sighed with a sad smile, “he surely was.”

Fin.