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Dear King Leo,
It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance at the peace conference in Cyrkensia. I hope you do not think my writing to you is an imposition — I received the impression from our conversation, however brief, that you would be open to further communication.
I understand that I may not have received the best impression of you at the conference, given the unique pressures you were under during the undertaking of events. My siblings were rather dismayed by my conduct in your presence, and while I personally stand by my actions and words, I understand the need to extend a form of apology to you. My siblings insisted on it, and I hope you will appreciate the effort I take.
By not opening my letter with the apology in question, I know I may seem insincere in my words, but I assure you I am not. I was a little on edge after a long day of talking through arms agreements with the most unpleasant man, and seeing him at your side that evening set me off more than I would have liked. The question of why you keep company with someone of his unique bearing is perhaps a poor one for a first letter, so I will leave the matter for now unless you wish to address it in your reply.
The suggestion given by one of my siblings, who will go unnamed so as to preserve their dignity in the face of such a foolish idea, was that I should reintroduce myself in this letter to reinvigorate our acquaintance with fresh goodwill. This was accompanied by a suggestion that we may, in fact, “get on” if we are able to exchange more pleasant conversation with each other, so I will forgive you should you toss this letter on the fire for being filled with nonsense.
That said, I promised to give it a try, and I am a man of my word. Therefore: I am Prince Takumi, third son of the Hoshidan royal family, and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I eagerly await your reply.
With regards,
Prince Takumi.
—
Dear Prince Takumi,
Thank you for your interesting — and frankly rather entertaining — letter. It gave me a light spot in an otherwise rather dark, dull day of work, so it was not at all unwelcome.
Your particular antics at the conference — particularly your insult of my country’s scenery in general and food specifically — should be considered forgiven. Though I have never visited Hoshido myself, I have visited Izumo and understand why you would find the offerings of a country mired by frequent famines, floods, and of course a recent war that tore through the lands, to be a little lacking.
As to my company, I will concur with your opinion that Niles is a uniquely challenging character. Yet, he is a steadfast ally of mine with an exceedingly thorough approach to loyalty, and is as such an indispensable part of my retinue. If his manner offends you, I would suggest spending a little time in Nohr’s more impoverished areas to understand a little better where his perspective comes from — though it is not something I would suggest to a Hoshidan prince if one wanted to keep the muscles contained within his throat actually inside them, if you understand my meaning.
I shall admit that you also did not see the best of me in our brief meeting — I had been arguing it out with King Ryoma for hours at that point. I am sure he told you at length the kind of things we had to discuss, and why, despite our mutual desire to come to a favourable agreement for all, this took an unusual amount of time and energy. It is not something I particularly care to put to paper all over again, though perhaps if you read the treaty, it would suffice to explain the basics.
You do not need to say who made the suggestion to you of the letter and the reintroduction contained within. I feel I know him well enough at least to recognise his ploys at work. Pass on my regards, if you think he still
That is to say: your apology, brief though it was, is accepted. And in the spirit of goodwill and mutual embarrassment, I shall extend this introduction in return: I am King Leo of Nohr, eighth born son of the late King Garon. I eagerly await your reply.
With regards,
King Leo.
—
Dear King Leo,
I’m glad you recognised the little joke of a scenario for what it was. If you’d made the conclusion that it was simply me trying to cover for my own failings of communication, I don’t think I would have been able to live it down. Now we’re reintroduced, perhaps we can continue on a slightly more pleasant path than our conversation in Cyrkensia would have allowed.
I will also admit to being pleased that you addressed my particular feelings on your retainer Niles. I was a little concerned that I might offend, the man seemingly being as close to you as he was — I recognise both the uses for his perspective and his loyalty. When an unwavering commitment is worth more than its weight in gold, it does tend to attract individuals of unique character to positions they would otherwise never be able to hold — I can think of rather a few individuals this is true of in Hoshido also.
Your comments regarding my throat and the streets of Nohr, however, did not please me quite so much. I will admit to being uncertain as to whether your suggestion was a threat or an insult, but I find myself compelled to object either way. Surely the streets of Nohr could not be so dangerous and filled with ruffians so well trained that I would find myself felled? I would have you know that I am a rather skilled fighter; the bow isn’t just very shiny.
Don’t take this as an insinuation that I feel insulted — just decide whether I do or not, and respond as you feel fit. I’d be interested to see what you suggest either way, and I impatiently await your reply.
With regards,
Prince Takumi.
—
Dear Prince Takumi,
And your uniquely lively disposition returns, I see! Your letter gave me another good laugh — have you ever considered renouncing your position and becoming an entertainer? You could make quite the career as a jester in Nohr.
I fully meant to insinuate that you would not last more than five minutes on the streets of Nohrian cities. I do not say this lightly, and would readily say the same about myself if I ever made the foolish decision to depart the castle without Niles by my side. And please know that I know exactly just how much more the Fujin Yumi is than a “shiny bow” — would you like me to regale you with the tale of how long I had to spend in bed recovering after you knocked me off my horse with the thing?
No hard feelings, of course. We do what we must in war, as I’m sure you understand just as well as I — if not better, given how much fighting you saw. Either way, it is a topic I am sure neither of us particularly wish to return to; I certainly don’t.
Instead, I wanted to make mention to you of something you may be interested in, relating to our unfortunate first conversation. The mire around Macarath lifts during autumn, before settling in again for the winter, and it makes for a much nicer spot than almost anywhere else in Nohr at any time in the year. Perhaps it pales in comparison to the more pleasant climes of Hoshido, but if you want to see Nohr at its best, that would be the time.
If you happen to be interested, do let me know by letter, and we can make some arrangements. Officially or unofficially, I would be glad to host you in some form and show you the best of Nohr’s scenery. If you are not, I will take no offence; or perhaps I should say that you should decide if I will be offended and act accordingly? Either way, I patiently (because I have some letter-writing etiquette, unlike others) await your reply.
With regards,
King Leo.
—
Dear King Leo,
Your invitation is, in fact, appreciated — though your insinuations about my letter-writing manner are not so. Your words about Macarath in springtime have me intrigued; I tried asking my brother about the matter, and he was utterly clueless, but another who hailed from Nohr, Silas (do you know him?) seemed to know what you were talking about. I’ll look forward to it, tentatively — I can’t say I enjoyed my last visit to the city all that much.
Please do make it an unofficial visit. Though I’m not a complete stranger to them, I dislike the formal trappings of diplomacy intensely; the best way to a ruler’s intentions is a strong cup of sake, in my unprofessional opinion. We can call it a meeting between acquaintances who happen to hail from opposite sides of the border and leave it at that.
I will admit to being eager to see you beyond the constraints of the page again. It has been rather too long since I heard your sharp tongue rather than just having to imagine it behind your pretty handwriting. With any luck, it will go a little better than our other meeting, but don’t hold your breath. I still think Nohrian food is terrible, and depending on the actual quality I intend to make my feelings known (though not in front of serving staff or cooks. I’m not that cruel).
Feel free to send the details through on the regular stream of communication, rather than this personal courier. It’ll be faster that way. Naturally, I will impatiently await your reply.
With regards,
Prince Takumi.
—
Dear Takumi,
Well, that was a disaster, wasn’t it?
My apologies. I had to get to that before the good part: I enjoyed your company. I am glad that you found something to appreciate about Nohrian food, and about Nohrian scenery, though I will admit to finding it rather entertaining that you were not altogether familiar with horseback riding. How was I to know that your beast of choice is a kinshi? I think I’ve only seen one when someone has fired arrows at me from the back of one.
Check your luggage — I sent you back with a cooking book that describes some methods of stew-making, though I don’t know how accurate it is to the practise. If you wanted to try your hand at it or hand it off to your kitchen staff (who will likely require a translation — while your Nohrian is clearly passable, I would not anticipate that theirs would be), it should suffice.
Now onto the more… sensitive aspects of our meeting. I agree with you that I did not fully think through the necessity of disguising you more thoroughly. Macarath, like every part of Nohr, was touched by the war at length, and not to any great benefit. I hope you understand that it will take time for the hearts of the people to heal, if they ever will. My presence likely appeased them only a little, but I would not recommend venturing to the country alone if you wish to visit in future.
It may be necessary to send some kind of signal to the people of Nohr that you were not imposing yourself on me. Beyond an official proclamation, I have no particular ideas, though I would welcome any suggestions you have. Your visit was not official and did not have the trappings of diplomacy that you loathe so much, but in our eagerness (and impatience, it seems), it seems we neglected to consider that your mere presence was a diplomatic incident in itself.
That being said, I remain glad that you came. It was good to have the chance to solidify the resolution of our differences in person, and it was a welcome — if brief — respite from my duties. As are all your letters, in fact. As such, I will now admit to impatiently awaiting your reply.
Kind regards,
Leo.
—
Dear Leo,
Your acknowledgement of the travesty that was that trip is appreciated, and I concur with what you’ve said about it — I was glad to see you. I was not glad to be shouted at every time I was spotted in public, to the point that you had to have soldiers chase people away from the manor so we could sleep.
Perhaps it is easy to forget, in the midst of what I might even class as a friendship having developed between us, that grace does not come easily to all those affected by war. I can’t blame those people who objected to my presence, nor can I object to their anger — what I did to them was necessary but still invites no forgiveness. I’m sorry to have caused damage to your reputation by gracing that portion of your country with my presence.
I do, however, have an idea as to something that may help. From what I understood from your letter and in the regional dialect and accent of that particular corner of Nohr (and now I find myself distinctly glad that my Nohrian tutors taught me something that means we understand each other when speaking), my presence was taken as an imposition from my side of the border. This was a charge brought on the basis that you should not be forced to host me when Hoshido is so much wealthier — I’m sure you can gather where I might wish to take this.
As such, I would like to formally and informally (it is a formal event, but I’m inviting you as Leo — not as the King of Nohr) extend an invitation for you to visit Shirasagi for the second week of December. I wouldn’t expect you to have the information yourself, so I’ll tell you before you embarrass yourself by asking me or an advisor what formal event would take place at that time of year: it’s the celebration of my birth. There’ll be a meal where I get to set the menu, and that’s reason enough for you to attend.
Naturally, if you wish not to attend and remain in your dark castle doing a thankless task for whatever reason — be it an intolerance to direct sunlight or a wish to avoid anyone who may be in attendance — I will not take offence. I’d still like a gift, though; I’d like a way to practise that infernal game you showed me when I visited, if you need any ideas.
This time, I know it might take a while for you to work out if you can actually accept my proposal. As such, I will patiently await your reply.
Kind regards,
Takumi.
—
Dear Takumi,
Your suggestion is much appreciated, and I accept it readily. Thank you also for your rare show of patience — I needed to go to various individuals in charge of my work before I could get such a trip approved.
Because of the proximity to the event itself, I will keep this letter brief. I was glad for the suggestion of what to acquire for your birthday — normally, something like that would never be approved as a gift for a member of a royal family (I don’t know if you were privy to the gift I sent Princess Hinoka, but I assure you it was far more expensive than a chess set). With a direct request, however, my advisors were happy to approve it.
Alas, chess is one of those things you need to practise to get any good at — I imagine you could be a rather good player some day, though it will certainly take time. The game will perhaps seem less infernal with a practice partner such as your brother, who I used to play with in our youths.
Just this once, I shall not await your reply to this letter (though it will be your turn to send one when I return), as I will likely arrive before one reaches Nohr.
Kind regards,
Leo.
—
Dear Leo,
I will begin this letter by being blunt: I apologise if anything made you uncomfortable while you visited. I understand fully that there were lots of incidents within the event that may have made you feel out of place, and I should have foreseen that before inviting you.
You are aware that I noticed that you seemed off, compared to my visit to Nohr in turn. You promised that you would inform me of what it was by letter once you returned and could formulate it properly in words, and I hope you will stand by your words.
Beyond that, I must say that it was a pleasure to have you in the capital. I was admittedly surprised when you said in your letters that you’d never been to Hoshido before, but I don’t know why — I knew there was no way you could have visited. I hope you enjoyed the sights, the weather, and the food, all of which I will forever stand by are better than in Nohr.
Sakura told me very firmly not to put my foot in my mouth when I wrote to you after your departure, and I fear I’m doing just that. But you did say that you wouldn’t see me diminish myself for the sake of courtesy, and I’ll stand by that.
Speaking of sake (the homograph when translating to Nohrian still amuses me) — I am terribly (though not nearly as sincerely, because it was a little funny) sorry for the surprise with the alcohol at the meal. I should have warned you of the differences to grape wine! Still, I don’t think you disliked it, and I would be happy to share the drink with you again at a time when my whole family isn't crowding around with embarrassing childhood stories.
At this point, I feel I’m stalling and trying to fill out paper. I don’t know if it’s because I want you to have more time to plan what you’re going to say or if I don’t want to hurry you too much, but please take it as both because they paint our friendship in a rather charitable light. Either way, I patiently await your reply. Please take all the time you need.
Yours,
Takumi.
—
Dear Takumi,
Thank you for your understanding. It means a lot, and I hope you will forgive the general lateness of this letter. It took me a little longer to get the words down than I expected, and it was part of your letter that admittedly made it so.
From the offset, I wish to clarify: I do not and shall never begrudge you the happiness you forged for yourself, your family, and your Kingdom. These actions tore holes in my own self, family, and Kingdom, but it feels so inevitable that I cannot hold it against you or those you hold dear. That said, it was emotionally taxing — to put it lightly — to see exactly what I now miss most about the past.
Your family were welcoming and loving, and I hope that, if my thanks to them was not adequately conveyed, you could let them know again how much it meant to be welcomed to what was mostly a private event for those you were closest to. That said, I find myself amused by your own objections to my choice of retainer when yours had so many choice words for me. Though whether they were truly for me is, I feel, another matter, so I will leave the issue to your discretion.
I too am stalling, it seems. I will get to the point: your family shared many stories of you when you were younger at the dinner table, with manifold purposes. One they likely did not intend, however, was to reveal a particular fact about your birth and early childhood which I had previously been unaware of — likely by your own design.
It is not that the discussion or the knowledge bothered me in the slightest; it did not. It makes me rather embarrassed to write it, but I was overcome with emotion. Our childhoods were not similar — we have discussed this vaguely but not in depth before now — but that fact of our birth is shared. I was not named Leo as an infant, nor was I raised to be called that name. When I was born, there was no eighth son of the late King Garon, and it is a fact that has been amended with time.
I have never met anyone similar to myself. While I logically knew it was possible that other such individuals existed (in fact I surmised that it was likely), to actually meet someone who shared those experiences, to know that you were under my nose the whole time? I shall admit it took a little processing, and that threw me off emotionally more than I would like. I am truly sorry if it soured your celebrations in any way.
My letter was lengthy and filled with emotions I did not imagine I would ever spill to you — at least, not until my promise to do so arose. As such, I understand if your reply takes a while, and patiently await your reply.
Yours,
Leo.
—
Dear Leo,
I almost have no idea where to begin with this. I will fully admit to having taken multiple attempts to draft this letter, and no beginning satisfied me. So, if you will forgive a momentary lapse in letter-writing etiquette, I will simply say: well, shit.
The thought that it never came up before now makes me feel a little of a fool. It’s common knowledge in Hoshido — my childhood was exceedingly public, and the changes I undertook as I passed into my teenage years were equally so. It’s the kind of thing I expected you to already know at length, even if it was something an advisor said to remind you of a weakness of mine you could exploit. They would still be wrong, as I have no shame over that past, but I don’t talk about it often. It doesn’t come up.
To learn that you are the same was a surprise, to say the least. Hinoka thought I had received news of your imminent death, with the amount of time I spent in the archery range on receiving your letter. Now the surprise has faded, I might even admit to being a little excited by the prospect; I have known some others like me, but none I really got on with.
To address the other elements of your letter: my siblings thought you were very polite and were glad to have you around — they found it amusing to hear you thought you might not have expressed it well enough. You definitely did. As for Oboro, my apologies — I asked her to behave, but she acts under her own orders as much as she acts under mine. You’re right that it’s not personal, but I did have a stern word with her. Should you visit Hoshido again, or should we encounter each other in some other country, her particular response to your presence should not happen again.
Thank you for your honesty in telling me about how the visit made you feel; you could have passed it off as feelings about the war and my siblings, but you didn’t. I appreciate that, though I resent the idea that you wouldn’t hold the war against my family. You can, and none of us would blame you. On cheerier topics: thank you for the chess set. Corrin’s skill level is much more my speed.
I understand if you don’t wish to reply with an answer, but I did have one question on the topic of your physical processes. I take an herbal concoction to look and sound the way I do, but as far as I know these are herbs that exist only in Hoshido. May I ask how you achieve your own effect? I curiously await your reply.
Yours,
Takumi.
—
Dear Takumi,
Thank you for understanding, on all levels. It’s not something I ever even thought to hope for, let alone something I thought I would ever encounter. It means, perhaps, more than I am able or willing to put down in words — but please know I appreciate your response deeply.
To answer your question, I was unaware of any particular herbal solutions to our particular biological problem. There is little time to dedicate to medicinal agriculture when growing enough to feed the population is a challenge of its own. What Nohr does have that Hoshido appears to lack, however, is dark magic. It is a well known fact amongst scholars that should you have need of anything that would break the commonly known laws of nature, you should turn to dark magic for it.
Before you ask: yes, it is dangerous, and it has unpleasant side effects I do not care to put down on paper. But to me, it has always been worth the risk. I would not cease it unless it would kill me, to tell the truth.
If I may ask a question of you in return (which, as with your own question to me, I would not demand you answer if you do not wish to), it would be thus: the story your siblings told with great glee was one set a mere year before the war, and involved the constriction of your breathing through an attempt to bind your chest. If the objects are of no use to you and cause distress, have you been unable to find a way to have them removed?
I know I suggested not coming to Nohr too soon after your previous visit, and I understand the sensitivity of trusting a matter such as this to a stranger, but if you were looking and had been unable to find such a procedure, I know an individual who can perform it — she did so on myself. If you would like to visit Nohr for this purpose, you would be immensely welcome. It does not need to be a decision you make immediately, but regardless of your thoughts, I curiously await your reply.
Yours,
Leo.
—
Dear Leo,
Both your answer and your question made the reply I wanted to make in this letter abundantly clear: I will make arrangements to travel to Nohr as soon as is convenient.
I have made numerous attempts to source a resolution to that particular aspect of my body, but to no avail. There is demand, naturally, but not the medical knowledge. Perhaps it, too, is due to the lack of dark magic, or more to do with the faith-oriented approach to our healing that has left Hoshido lacking in that area. Regardless, I was informed that recovery may never come if a procedure was attempted on me. Even when I raised your offer with my siblings, their wariness was evident; it is only because you have done it yourself that they would agree to let me go.
On the issue of the herbs, the danger you describe worries me greatly. The concoction in general is readily available to us in Hoshido, should you find a physician who knows of its existence; the herbs are so simple to grow that we have them in the fields nearby the palace. I will bring as much of the dried store that exists as I can when I make the journey to Nohr, and from there we can work out how to get a regular supply to you. Who knows — maybe it would even be able to grow in Nohr!
I want to thank you again for your openness and honesty; perhaps it will come as a surprise to you (or perhaps not, in which case I fear I will open myself up to no small degree of mockery), but I do not often feel I can fully express my emotions with others. You are an exception to that rule, and I appreciate that it’s mutual. There are many potential words for the manner in which we have been able to connect, but I won’t wax poetic at you — I’m sure you can think of just as many as I.
In a change of heart that I feel is rather reasonable, given the circumstances, I feel confident in saying that I impatiently await your reply. If you want a more positive descriptor, I will say I ecstatically await it instead.
Yours,
Takumi.
—
Dear Takumi,
I’ve sent this letter a week after your departure from Nohr, as I am yet to receive a missive of your arrival. I imagine I will, soon enough, but I believe your letter was the last in our exchange so thought I shouldn’t break the habit, so to speak.
It was a pleasure to have you, regardless of how much of a nuisance you were as a patient. That said, I hope my care was adequate and that you will find yourself recovering even more after your transfer to Hoshido — I imagine the air there will do you good.
The castle is shockingly quiet without you, and I find I got used to your presence while you were here. My work drags on ever more during the day knowing you will not be there when I am finished; that is to say, I miss you, and deeply appreciate the time we had to talk in the weeks you were here.
All the herbs you brought from Hoshido continue to be a welcome change from my previous method. Now that my body has adjusted to not having the dark magic doses each day, I can feel the difference that using the herbs makes for my general health — thank you, sincerely. I know you said it was no effort at all, but I still appreciate it.
Take all the time to rest that you feel you may need, dear friend. However, I do eagerly await your reply.
Ever yours,
Leo.
—
Dear Leo,
Your concern for my arrival was appreciated, but unwarranted — I am perfectly fine, and recover more by the day. Your little jab at my feelings about the Nohrian climate proved entirely true, and I breathe easier here. How you recovered in any timely way at all in Nohr escapes me, but perhaps you were more content than I to stay in bed and read books.
I feel I must again apologise about how infuriating I was during recovery. Sakura comments on the same often, and I should probably have warned you how I can get. I also wanted to tell you not to get down on yourself too much regarding your own ability to take care of me — I fully understood that you had other commitments and could not always be available at full energy.
What you said about Elise struck me, and I realise that though we have spoken about the issue on occasion, I have never truly voiced my feelings on the matter.
I am sorry. I apologise deeply for everything we did during the war. You have mentioned before that you do not blame us, and I have suggested that you should. That does not remove the necessity of the apology for what my actions caused — that pain does not go away with time, and I hope that you feel able to speak to me about everything the war wrought. We are friends of perhaps the closest degree, and if you felt like you had to hold your tongue because of the past I would rather definitively consider myself a failure on that front.
Perhaps it is not an apology from me that you are looking for. Perhaps it is not an apology from anyone at all. But I still feel that someone should offer one up for you and for those like Elise who lost their lives in the struggle.
I am sorry to devote so much of this letter to such a sombre issue. I am truly glad to hear of your general improvement because of the herbs — did you give any thought to the possibility of growing them natively in Nohr? Additionally, if I remember correctly I extended another invitation to visit Hoshido to you, completely informally this time. Given that you expressed missing me, I would rather like to see an acceptance in your next letter, and as such eagerly await your reply.
Ever yours,
Takumi.
—
Dear Takumi,
Thank you for everything in your letter. I know I have told you on multiple occasions that such words are unnecessary, but it means a lot to me that you would choose to say them anyway. You are correct that it is not you I would ever wish to hear an apology from — but it is appreciated anyway, in lieu of the person I would see pay for the war.
Before you ask: that person is my late father. The war was initiated by a monster who I fear had no real intention of seeing it through, given how hastily it was launched and how quickly everything fell apart. It is he who I place chief blame on, no matter how much I wish that Elise had not jumped in front of that blade.
Elise made her choice — and I will not say for better or worse, because we both know it was for worse. It is a choice I live with every day, for I could not prevent it. But in the same way that I live with it, I cannot hate those who stood to challenge my brother in an attempt to end the war.
Like you, I feel I must apologise for the tone of this letter. They are necessary words, ones I am glad to be able to share with you, but they are still sad. One day, I hope that sharing memories of my departed family will be something I can do in joy and remembrance, rather than in a moment when I find myself hounded by grief. Until then, it brings me some happiness to know there is someone to listen to my words.
With regards to the more cheerful part of your letter — I would be delighted to visit Hoshido not as a guest for an event but just to spend time with you. I want to test my mind against yours in shogi again; I doubt I have surpassed you just yet, but I think I can put up more of a challenge this time.
Don’t tell him this, because he will be insufferable about it if you do, but I think I would also like to spend more time with Corrin again. I was purposefully distant during my last visit, but I think maybe — chiefly due to time and the light your words and presence have given me — I would find solace in rekindling what we lost at the outset of war. I will correspond with the relevant individuals in Nohr and Hoshido about my absence before planning the visit, and as such I fondly await your reply.
Ever yours,
Leo
—
Dear Leo,
Thank you, as always, for your letter and all the words contained within. I will keep this brief, because I know I need to run it down to the courier very soon if it is to reach you before your departure to Hoshido.
If I may be frank: you are a far kinder man than I. We have not discussed the matter in depth (an issue that, I sense, it may be wise for us to rectify now we know we will not mistake each other’s words), but know that, in the same position as you, I would not be nearly so forgiving. In the face of your letter, I am a little ashamed to admit the truth of the way I treated you, so many months ago.
I have long held a grudge against those of Nohr — not for any feelings about the country itself, nor the rulers, but the people in general. This came from an understanding that they had not only murdered my father but stolen my brother away, something that tore my family apart for years on end.
In the end, it appears that we stole your brother in turn and took far more from you than a father — if your siblings are anywhere near as important to you as mine are to me, I can scarcely imagine the pain we have put you through. The fact that you have it in your heart to grow close to me is, to be blunt, a privilege I never thought I would be afforded.
I know your time of departure draws near, so I shall not await your reply just yet — but I will eagerly await your arrival.
Ever yours,
Takumi.
—
Dear Takumi,
I will confess to being a little surprised that there wasn’t an additional letter waiting for me when I returned to Nohr — my journey was a little delayed by an issue that cropped up in the north east, and combined with how reluctant you were to see me go, I thought you might have been a little more insistent on receiving communication from me soon. In truth, I did almost send you a letter from my stopping-off point to let you know of exactly that delay, but I resisted, as I knew I would have moved on before you could get a reply to me.
This letter also functions as thanks to you, yet again, for the break you afforded me in my visit to Hoshido. I do not fully recall another time when I have felt so at ease, especially amongst others. I valued the time I was able to spend with them both with and without you, and please let Sakura know that I meant every word to her when we spoke — she’ll know what I mean, even if you don’t.
When it comes to Corrin, I feel I must also address the sentiment you expressed in your last letter. My visit underlined and clarified a handful of facts for me with regards to my brother: he is still my brother. He never stopped being so, and we never stopped caring for each other (though I will admit, perhaps, to hating him a little for a while. Funny, how I hated him but never you, when he was the one I loved before). That said, he was also never mine in a way that excluded you — you could never have stolen him from me, for loving family and possessing them cannot go hand in hand.
Speaking of family: I found myself feeling more welcomed by your siblings than expected, fitting better into their fold than I ever could have imagined, especially after our first few meetings. While the absence my brother and sister have left in my heart can never be patched over, the warmth I feel with your siblings and the closeness I feel with you tells me that I may, some day, be able to have a large family again.
So, in short, thank you again. The time I spend with you, I realise, shall perhaps never fail to be special, and with each moment I spend in your presence I gain more hope for the future. And though it cannot hold a candle to your actual voice, I affectionately await the words of your reply.
With love,
Leo.
—
Dear Leo,
I was actually close to sending a letter to the castle in Windmire to find out where you’d disappeared to — your correspondence was received gratefully and put at ease my thoughts as to what could have happened to keep you so long. That said, you can’t just reference a vague incident and not tell me what it was about! I promise not to tell anyone political if it’s sensitive.
The words you shared in your letter moved me. Why can’t you have that kind of gift with words when you’re here physically? I may well have been moved to tears if you said that with your earnest little face. I won’t tell Corrin what you said, though, if that’s what you’re angling for — you have to tell him things like that yourself. You have to suffer through his clinginess if you’re going to be sappy, I won’t do it on your behalf.
If I may be so bold: your words border on a form of affection that leads me to believe my following statement may be amenable to you. Let it be known that you instigated this, and that if my assumption is not in line with your own then no hard feelings should be held between us. The depth of the care that has grown between us surprised me, and I find myself wishing that you could be a part of my family not through your bonds with my other siblings but through the deepest of attachments to myself.
I hope that my words are plain enough that you will understand my meaning. If it were not for the distance between us, I would follow my words with a certain action; as it is, I press my lips to the parchment and hope that my sentiment is mirrored within you. You remain, as ever, my closest friend, and I affectionately (if a little apprehensively) await your reply.
With love,
Takumi.
—
Dearest Takumi,
I resent the lack of specificity in your last letter; where was it that you pressed your lips to, so I might run my fingertips over that same spot and feel the phantom warmth of your affection?
You did not mistake my intentions. Perhaps I should have been more direct, but I was loath to forsake that which we had already built. I thought that, maybe, the best course of action was to express my feelings in the way I could and reserve the rest to be locked within my heart. Love, naturally, is both the best and worst of emotions, and the pain it could have caused me if known was too great to take the risk. Ever, in our friendship and beyond, you have been the boldest of us. Thank you for taking the leap I would not.
When it comes to family, however, I fear I must still keep a few things locked away. We have now discussed at great length the kind of love and pain I have felt because of family, and I am sure you understand me when I say I am not yet ready to take those you care for as a family of my own. Perhaps one day; perhaps never. I appreciate and return their warmth all the same, in the hope that alongside the chasm in my heart there will someday be room for more siblings than Camilla and those who have now departed.
What Camilla — and Elise, and Xander, and all others lost in the war who I may have once held dear — would not begrudge me is some form of happiness. As such, there is a tiredness to my life I am now willing to set down, in a way I could not imagine before I came to know you. The grief I hold is one my family would not wish me to hold too close forever, lest I find myself turning cold from the corpses stacked up around me. Carving a new family may take a while longer, but allowing myself to love you cannot wait a second more.
I wish we had possessed the strength to carry this through when we were in the same place, or even on the same side of the border. Alas, we are beholden to the ink of our writings and the boots of the couriers, and we will have to content ourselves with this for the time being. That said, know that I press my lips to the spot just below where I shall soon sign my name, and that I affectionately and enthusiastically await your reply.
Love,
Leo.
—
Dearest Leo,
Please, for a moment, imagine my chagrin when you opened your previous letter with “I resent”. I would say you are a bastard, but since you have regaled me with the full tale of the lengths you took to prove yourself legitimate, I fear I cannot without offending you. Therefore: you bastard, I nearly threw the letter back on my desk before I could read the conclusion of your sentence. (And to prevent another snippy reply, the kiss is under where I sign my name.)
You know me to be an impatient man; I always have been, and perhaps I always will be. I need not mention the veritable torture of the snail’s pace of these letters — perhaps we should invest in a pegasus courier service that can actually make it across Nohr and back. Surely one exists, somewhere? Despite my impatience, however, there is one matter in which I will always be able to find a little more time in my heart for.
That is you, naturally. You mentioned a careful and rather tactfully put rejection of my suggestions in your previous letter, citing your grief. You did not need to be nearly so tactful; of course I offer you every ounce of understanding in this matter. There is no rushing these emotions, and whether that takes you years, decades, or forever, I will gladly wait and accept whatever role you wish to play in my family. Just know that as you care for them, they care for you, and will be delighted to have you — or not have you — at any time.
I hope you’re grateful, because as you know, I am exceedingly impatient by nature. In turn, I am grateful also; grateful that I had the chance to meet you, fail to get to know you, and then start all over again. Sometimes I find myself wondering if that excruciatingly awkward suggestion our brother made was responsible, in a way, for all of this. If it was, then I believe I owe him thanks and an apology. I love you, and getting to know you has been one of the best things I have ever done. I feel lucky for it every day.
If I have any luck at all, the courier will be fast, and yours will be speedy in return. As such, I impatiently and affectionately await your reply.
Love,
Takumi.
—
Dearest Takumi,
Even after all this time, it never fails to surprise me how much your letters are able to amuse me every time they arrive. Thank you, as always, for your numerous enriching qualities and the ease with which you put them to paper — your occasional patience, your care, and your consideration, to name only a few.
Your attitude towards my feelings surrounding family is appreciated. Your attitude towards the couriers is closer to expected — we’ve been through this before. Pegasi struggle with the climate in Nohr, owing not only to the cold, but also the air and the frequency of sudden storms. Such a courier would be exceedingly expensive, if it were even possible at all.
As such, I will look into it. There may be something to be said instead for a wyvern courier, though we would likely have to employ a mercenary for it rather than someone familiar with the task of delivering letters.
While we are on the topic of tasks performed by those not suited to them, I will return to your mention of our brother as the potential precursor to everything that has come to pass between us. It feels strange to owe something to Corrin, but I believe you may be right. I actually received numerous letters in the wake of that convergence of nations, and yours caught my attention only because of how ludicrous the whole thing was. I believe he deserves a little — though naturally not all of — the credit.
If it is the time to express saccharine words about the coincidence of our connection, then I will gladly do so also: I love you too. How you have developed from an infuriating man to an infuriating man I love is a mystery that only our many meetings, partings, and letters can resolve, but it is one I feel privileged to have experienced. I never imagined something so wonderful could come from the darkness of all I have experienced. If I am to turn your statement into a competition: I believe I am a luckier man even than you.
I want to send this letter as soon as possible, so my love can reach you with all swiftness. Until the moment in which we can be together again, I am forever awaiting your reply.
Love,
Leo.