Chapter Text
Since nearly dying beneath the Ashen Demon’s blade a year ago, the former mercenary (now student) Shez had learned quite a few new things:
- How high of a cliff he could leap off “as a shortcut” without injury,
- How long Arval would gripe at him afterwards about it,
- How many Fódlan noble houses had kids at the Officers' Academy at the same time,
- Which houses were less stuck-up than others,
- Which nobles' names he should never mention to each other,
- That he couldn't sleep in the Academy uniform just to avoid the annoyance of buttoning it, because the creases would get even worse and less-polite fellow students would snicker,
- Which questions about the history of Fódlan were ones “that anyone with any education should have known”, as Shez had heard another student comment as he left Professor Hanneman’s class,
- ... And much more.
But the upside of the snide comments was that Shez quickly discovered how willing his fellow Blue Lions were to get mad on his behalf. Although only Ingrid and Annette would instantly jump to his defense, unrelated mishaps tended to befall anyone insulting him in earshot of Sylvain or Felix. And after Dimitri had gone hard-eyed and icy at a particularly rude comment about Shez’s jobs - well, the comments had stopped after that. Shez hadn’t really needed the support, being used to nobles’ attitude towards common mercenaries, but found he appreciated it all the same. Especially as all of the Blue Lions themselves were some form of noble or close-to-noble. It really was an odd house, he'd decided.
Anyway, all things considered, Shez hadn't found it too difficult to settle into a life of rubbing shoulders with the cream of Fódlan. Not having to worry about his next meal also gave him more time to study and train, and prepare for the next time the Ashen Demon showed up. But his new life also brought some surprising new challenges. Though his mule-headed idiocy (as at least one fellow mercenary had described) usually got him through, Shez eventually found himself stymied by one challenge.
“Faerghus as a kingdom owes much to our knights and their mounts, as their loyalty and discipline has been instrumental to our survival in the harsh north,” Dimitri had told Shez while leading him towards Garreg Mach’s stables. Just minutes ago, Shez had been hastily briefed about the Archbishop sending him - and the whole Blue Lions house - to help Dimitri defeat his uncle's coup in the Kingdom capital of Fhirdiad. Apparently Felix's father, the Duke of Fraldarius, was leading the resistance; Shez couldn't help wincing at imagining a taller and even more ferocious Felix.
“I know you’ve not yet trained in riding,” Dimitri continued as they entered the stables, “but since we must make for Fhirdiad with haste to avoid my uncle legitimizing his coup, I thought we may as well start by finding you a reliable mount. With your skill, I've no doubt you’ll be able to learn quickly— er, why are you looking at me like that?”
“I, uh,” Shez had said, and then winced as the nearest horse reared and whinnied fiercely at him from its pen. “I’m actually not that great with animals. They don’t seem to get along with me.”
And in spite of Dimitri’s patient coaching over the next day as they prepared to ride for Fhirdiad, Shez’s apprehension proved correct. He did manage to find a stolid old mare who would tolerate him, and even more or less keep up with the rest of the Blue Lions’ convoy on the first day’s ride from Garreg Mach. But his mount seemed to delight in randomly going from a snail’s pace to a teeth-rattling gallop, and by the time they reached a knights’ waystation to make camp for the night, Shez was finding himself bruised and sore in places he’d never thought possible.
“We’ve made very good time today, so we ought to be able to proceed at a more restrained pace tomorrow,” Dimitri said tactfully as Shez wobbled past him leading the mare. “There should be plenty of space in the stables by the tower. And, well - food, water, and rest, both for you and your mount, ought to help.”
“Thanks,” Shez sighed, trying to ignore both the sympathetic look Dimitri was directing in his direction, and the growing doubts he’d had too much time to think about during the ride. Dimitri’s pity, at least, was easy enough to leave behind as he made for the stables. He passed Ingrid and Ashe chatting merrily - as if they hadn’t just ridden exactly the same distance he had - and abruptly felt jealous, and then guilty for feeling jealous.
“Come by the campfire later!” Ingrid called behind him. “There’ll be stories! Lord... said he’d...”
He managed a weak nod in response before her voice was drowned out by a gaggle of passing knights. Campfire stories were usually one of the best parts of a mercenary’s life, but Shez wanted nothing more than to just curl up like a barn cat in the stable hay and sleep. But before then, he told himself stubbornly as he finally passed the stable doors, he had to get this mare taken care of. Even if he was an awful rider and would never make a decent knight, at least he wouldn’t be an irresponsible—
That was when he was almost pulled off-balance as the mare, with a very deliberate huff, stopped walking just inside the stable doors.
“What are you— argh! C’mon, just a little further? Please?”
Though he had no idea whether horses could roll their eyes, Shez would’ve sworn the mare was doing it at him - and either way she kept her feet firmly planted. He tried another few tugs at the reins, which had no effect except seeming to irritate her. But when she whipped her head about in response to one last-ditch tug, some of the straps on her halter abruptly came loose. One flew straight at his face—
“W— whoa!”
Shez threw himself back, losing his balance and hitting the floor hard. The strap missed him, but the impact made him drop the reins with a clatter, at which the mare spooked and reared. He recalled too late Dimitri’s warning against startling horses with loud noises, as hooves flew at him and he flung both arms over his head wildly—
“— Whoa there. You’ve more sense than that, girl. Easy now.”
It took Shez a couple stunned moments to find he had not been kicked in the head, a couple more to realize the deep voice he’d heard hadn’t been Arval’s, and finally one last beat to realize that his rescue had come from an unexpected source.
There was another man now standing beside the mare, soothing her in a low voice as he kept firm hold of her halter. He wore the fur-lined cloak Shez usually saw on Kingdom cavalry, and though Shez couldn’t make out his features against the dim torchlight, his calm and deep voice indicated some age, and the confident way he handled the mare suggested experience. And the mare herself, suddenly calmed, looked every inch the picture of innocence - as if she’d never have been so rude as to rear in the first place.
Shez fought an urge to roll his own eyes at her as he gingerly climbed back to his feet, wincing again at rediscovered riding bruises. But both his irritation and relief were immediately drowned out by shame as his benefactor turned towards him.
“Are you all right? That seemed a nasty fall.”
“I—” Shez started, paused as his voice croaked, grimaced, and tried again. “Um. I’m fine... sorry about that. I should’ve kept hold of her better, and thank you for...”
The man chuckled, not unkindly. “There’s no need for thanks - I’m glad to be of use. It’s good to know that these old bones can still handle a spooked horse. But have you had much practice with horses before?”
“Er,” Shez said. That seemed to be enough response for his benefactor, who laughed again and gestured with the reins for him to come closer. When he did, he was surprised to find the reins placed into his own hands.
“Wait, are you sure you want me to try? I might scare her again and—”
“No better way to learn than through experience,” the man said mildly. Still holding onto the reins with one gloved hand, he began adjusting Shez’s grip with the other, and Shez abruptly found himself both relieved and chagrined. At least his benefactor wasn't going to just leave him literally holding the reins. But it was never fun to be shown how bad he was - especially not by someone who was clearly an old hand at it.
Though, at least he wasn't getting too impatient, Shez finally thought resignedly. And the gloved hands against his were strong and reassuring, and clearly rough with the telltale calluses of someone who'd had a weapon in hand for most of his life. So his rescuer had to be a knight or paladin of some sort, and knights weren’t all that different from mercs when it came down to it, were they? Their jobs just tended to be more long-term than mercenary contracts. Either way, that meant Shez really didn't need to be getting nervous. He could talk shop - so to speak.
Out loud, he said, “Sorry for the trouble. I actually just started learning to ride three days ago, and I was a lot worse then, so uh... I’ll take any tips you got.”
At this distance, he could finally make out more of his benefactor’s face. Dark medium-length hair framed a pair of strangely familiar sharp eyes, fine features, and a brow that’d just furrowed at Shez’s words. Mentally, Shez resolved to just call him “the paladin” - his dignified bearing seemed to indicate more experience than a knight, and it was less unwieldy than “his benefactor” as a title.
“Three days ago— you truly had no other experience with riding before then?”
“None,” and then Shez corrected himself, “well— unless you count mucking out stables. Worked plenty around horses though, and I've driven carts and wagons in a pinch, but those were usually the sleepy old workhorses. Warhorses are a lot more... active.”
The paladin sighed for some reason, though it didn’t seem to be directed towards Shez. “Well. Yes, that’s true enough, though the differences are not as great as you might think. Horses do have their own personalities and quirks which determine how best to approach them, regardless of whether they are bred for work or war. So your experiences will at least serve you in some capacity. But to go to battle when you've only been riding for..."
"Er, anyway," Shez hastily interrupted before he could make any further remarks about lack of skill, and gestured with the reins, "what did you want me to do with her?"
Under the paladin’s careful guidance, he finally managed to lead the mare into a stall, settle her in, and even get her turned around properly without any further mishaps. "Treat her as an equal who will return your confidence with trust and your hesitation with willfulness, and for the Goddess' sake, approach her with care and do not surprise her," his impromptu instructor had said. Shez was startled to find the description reminded him of Captain Berling, and even more startled to realize that the mental image helped. He silently sent up an apology and a thanks to the departed captain before the paladin directed him to fetch water and feed.
When Shez returned, he found the paladin still standing in the stall, stroking the mare’s neck absent-mindedly while looking pensive. Nevertheless. he smiled at Shez as he entered the stall again, and moved out of the way as Shez busied himself with the feed.
"So, I'm gonna assume you've got way more experience understanding horses than I do," Shez commented as he worked, as much to break the ice as out of curiosity. "You were saying something about personality before. What would you say this one’s like?"
The paladin chuckled at that. "It’s no great skill, but... well, I do believe she’s quite intelligent. She responds to even subtle cues and gestures, seems to have good sense, and aside from being a little noise-shy would be a trusted companion on the battlefield. However, she is no mount for a new rider. Given how observant she is, she can be easily confused if her rider gives her conflicting commands."
Well, that explained Shez's stop-and-go journey today, but knowing that it was his own fault didn’t actually help it sting less. He sighed and set down the feed bag as the mare shoved past him to eat. "Just my luck that she's also the only horse that'd carry me, huh?"
"How do you mean by that?"
"I'm terrible with animals," Shez said by way of explanation as he turned to deal with the water bucket. "Most horses beside this one won’t even let me ride them. Never had a pet either - well, not that our village could've afforded to feed pets that didn’t give eggs or milk. Anyway, I'd figured it wouldn't be much of an issue as long as I could fight on my own, but then I joined the Officers' Academy, and Dimi— er, His Highness told me about how important horses were to Faerghus, so I thought I'd try again, but...”
He set down the emptied water bucket and winced as the clunk echoed about the stall. “Anyway, I guess at least now I know I’d make an awful knight.”
"Hmm." The paladin seemed to think for a moment. “Well, hold on. That may also be jumping to conclusions too quickly.”
"Huh? How so?”
“How many first-time riders would be able to keep up with the Knights of Seiros and the Kingdom's finest over a full day’s ride, let alone on a full-blooded warhorse?”
Shez opened his mouth to deny it, found he had no actual response, and ended up just blinking at him. “Oh.”
The paladin laughed at that, reaching over to take the pail and empty feed bag from him to set aside. The casually considerate gesture and humor in his voice put Shez in mind of some of the grizzled old mercs he’d once swapped tales with, around long-gone campfires. “Admittedly, I would not blame you for being skeptical. Nor could I begin to guess why no other horse would bear you. But—” and he put out a hand to steady Shez, as Shez straightened and found his legs protesting being asked to walk again, “— there’s still no need to be so hard on yourself. You’re a quick study and diligent, and you’ve gotten this old girl to like you after all.”
He smiled once again at Shez. Even against his exhaustion and soreness, Shez found himself managing a grin back. The warmth of the hand against his shoulder seemed to lend him strength.
“You’ll have plenty of time to learn alongside her, and you’ll know when you’re ready to improve. I've no doubt that you will.”
When they’d finally exited the stables - after picking up the riding crop the paladin had come for - he stopped for a moment and turned to Shez. “I ought to go and tend to my story-telling obligations by the fire with the others now, but you’ll join us, won’t you? I’d be glad to hear some of your tales as well.”
Shez hesitated. That was a tempting suggestion, but after the paladin’s help it almost felt as if he’d gotten a second wind. No point wasting the energy... right?
“I ought to get some more blade practice in, but I’ll definitely come by later.” He grinned back reassuringly, trying to show that he wasn't just making an excuse to leave. “Everyone else'll be doing plenty once we get to Fhirdiad, so I can’t fall behind either. Especially if I’ll still be fighting on foot there. I shouldn’t try to ride her into battle when I’m still this bad with...”
His voice trailed off as he realized that the paladin’s smile had suddenly disappeared.
“Ah. Yes, the battle for Fhirdiad - thank you for the reminder. I’ll need to have a word with His Highness. You ought not to be sent to the front lines so soon.”
Momentarily uncomprehending, Shez stared at him. “Huh?”
“The Archbishop should have known better.” The paladin’s expression was darkening even further as he turned to look over the camp. “If she has sent any other new trainees along, even if she had her reasons— that is sheer recklessness unbefitting of her station. His Highness cannot possibly expect a new student of three days to fight alongside him. I know not what he is thinking, but I must—”
That was when the pieces finally fell into place. “Wait, hold on! Did you— were you thinking I’d only been training for three days?”
This time it was the paladin’s turn to blink at him. “Did you not say so yourself?”
“Well, yes— but, no! I mean, I might’ve only started horseback riding three days ago, but it’s not like I’m actually new to fights and battles and—” Shez sighed, forced both panic and relief down, and tried again. “I’m actually a merc by trade - a mercenary, I mean. I kinda got wrapped up in the Officers’ Academy’s business and they asked me to attend, but I’d been doing jobs for years in the Alliance before then. Fought plenty of battles too, so you really don’t need to worry about me in a fight! Just, uh, maybe don’t put me on a horse...”
Shez trailed off again. That explanation had been the actual truth, but given how much he’d come off as a total novice earlier, it was also the least convincing thing he could've said. And that was why he was bewildered when, instead of doubt or polite disbelief, a genuine grin of recognition suddenly flashed across the paladin’s face.
“Ah! Then— you are the promising young mercenary we owe His Highness’s safety to!”
“What?” Shez said blankly.
“He praised you highly indeed in his letters. I was alarmed to hear he’d been attacked even with the Knights of Seiros overseeing training, but receiving your aid in the nick of time was truly fortunate. You have my gratitude for—”
They stared at each other for a moment longer as the paladin’s voice trailed off as well, seemingly realizing something himself.
“I... beg your pardon. I haven't even introduced myself or asked your name, have I?”
“You, uh, hadn’t,” Shez said, then immediately regretted his bluntness when the paladin's expression turned rueful. He went on quickly before his companion could apologize again. “But hey, I didn't either, right? So it's fine! And yeah, I’m Shez, but I guess you know me already?”
“Only by reputation, but— well.” The paladin shook his head, but finally smiled again at Shez as he bowed, one hand over his heart in the Faerghus style. Shez had just decided that he wouldn’t mind seeing the smile more often when the rest of the response came.
“Then you have my sincere apology for neglecting basic courtesy. But with that said - I am Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius, the man at the center of this chaos. Since I’ve already caused you plenty of trouble and must still ask more of you, I will not waste your time apologizing further. But I will promise you any assistance I am able to provide in the fight ahead.”
******
After the paladin - that is, Duke Fraldarius - had managed to convince a stunned Shez that he’d taken no offense and in fact appreciated Shez's frankness, they’d ended up heading for the campfire together after all. Shez'd had to admit that training suddenly sounded much less interesting than talking to his no-longer-anonymous companion.
“Hey, Your... Lordship? Wait, I mean—”
“Please,” the Duke said firmly, “just Rodrigue. The title's quite unnecessary for regular conversation, and I’ve heard you call even His Highness by name before. Humor me and do the same, would you?”
After a brief struggle between alarm that the Duke had noticed Shez being casual with Dimitri, doubt about whether he really meant it, and relief at being offered an out - Shez gave up. It was much easier to just think of him as Rodrigue. “Gotcha. Well, it wasn’t actually that important, but I just realized that I don't actually know much about the Kingdom’s politics right now, so...”
“Ask freely.”
“Who are we actually fighting this time, and why are they after you? I know there’s Dimitri’s uncle, but it sounds like there’s a bunch of other nobles and maybe some sort of mage involved? If we’re gonna have to watch out for magic attacks or other knights, I’d like to prep...”
Rodrigue started to explain readily, but his approving nod at the question stuck with Shez long after the explanation had ended. Even as Shez sat beside the campfire with the others, laughing at Ingrid’s tales of Sylvain’s childhood follies and listening with bated breath to Mercedes’s ghost stories (and then laughing again while watching her trying in vain to coax Ashe back to the campfire), he found that his gaze kept wandering back towards Rodrigue.
He and Felix did resemble each other. That was so obvious now, even comparing Felix’s current thunderous scowl to Rodrigue’s genuine cheer, that Shez had begun wondering why he hadn’t noticed much sooner. But he also had to admit he wasn’t staring at Rodrigue now just to find resemblances, and the issue was he had no idea why he was. Curiosity? Surprise at encountering another noble-who-didn’t-act-like-a-noble? He should’ve gotten used to that after all of the Blue Lions, but...
“I see you’ve met Rodrigue. How did you two get on?”
Shez started at a familiar voice from his right shoulder, then sighed at his own jumpiness as Dimitri sat down beside him, looking a little guilty. “My apologies - I had not meant to startle you. I’d actually meant to introduce you two myself, but we hadn’t the time, so I’d just thought to ask...”
“Nah, it’s fine. You were incredibly busy after all.” Shez thought for a moment, trying to piece his thoughts together, and found that although having Dimitri opposite him didn’t give him any new ideas, it also didn’t hurt to have someone he could actually talk to about this.
“He’s... really nice, actually. Showed me how to properly lead my horse, and gave me tips about how to stop getting rattled around like a sack of potatoes while riding, and we talked about the battle too and— honestly, I was just surprised. I kinda expected him to be— well.” He stopped again, tried to find a slightly more diplomatic phrasing, and failed. “More... Felix? More than Felix, even...”
He was gratified to hear Dimitri laugh and then quickly attempt to cover it up with a cough. “Ah— er, yes, indeed. I do not think anyone could out-do Felix at being himself, but... I am pleased to hear that you two found so much to discuss. It seems I needn’t have been concerned, then.”
“It wasn’t hard at all. He really was just easy to talk to, and he seems to be a great guy to have supporting you, so I’m glad he’s on our side— wait. Why were you concerned?”
He expected to be waved off, but for some reason Dimitri just paused, looking pensive.
“I... well.”
Shez could only wait with bated breath, and eventually Dimitri sighed again, still gazing at the campfire with an odd look. When he finally spoke, his voice sounded somehow faraway.
“Rodrigue is an old friend of my father’s, and mine as well. In fact, he may well have been my only friend or ally, other than Dedue, for the four years of my life after my father’s death. So,” he turned towards Shez at last with a smile more wistful than happy. “You were entirely correct. He is... a man of unquestionable loyalty.”
"I see... um. Good to know I can still tell who to trust, then. But...”
“— Yes. The thing is, he has done a great deal to support both me and Faerghus, and I cannot begin to describe how much I owe to him just to be able to stand here today, but—” Dimitri’s voice seemed to grow both softer and harsher at once, “but I cannot repay him. In fact, I will have to ask even more of him after this next battle. And though it is only what he had already offered me to do, and I will not refuse just for friendship’s sake, I cannot shake the feeling that it is a grave injustice to him.”
(Two years later, Shez would realize that the expression on Dimitri’s face then was the resignation of a king who felt the weight of the crown more heavily than anyone else. But there next to the campfire, looking at a still-uncrowned prince, he could only have said that Dimitri looked sincerely sad.)
“And so. Even though I knew Rodrigue himself would chastise me for it - ‘a king ought not to be so concerned for his servants doing their duty’, after all - I still wanted to find some other way to show him my gratitude. That was when I foolishly began to wonder if someone else - who was not me - could be a better friend to Rodrigue than I could be. And... well.”
Dimitri let out a breath, his expression growing self-deprecating as he finally met Shez’s gaze again, “Try as I might, you were the only person I could think of who was both in the right position and interested in a new friendship. But first, please let me be clear. I am not ordering you to befriend Rodrigue— if you have any objection whatsoever—”
That was when Shez found himself grinning again. It wasn’t as if he’d gotten any more information about his earlier thoughts towards Rodrigue, and he wasn’t even sure if he understood what Dimitri was talking about. But after everything he’d just heard, one thing at least was very clear.
“C’mon, you didn’t even have to ask, you know.”
Dimitri blinked at him, and Shez grinned back even more broadly. “I was gonna ask Rodrigue for more tips on horse handling as soon as I could, and see if he could teach me how to use a lance while we’re on the road, and try to get him to tell more stories - and honestly I was just afraid you’d get annoyed I was distracting one of your commanders from the battle. So...”
He found himself looking across the campfire again for a moment, and Dimitri did the same beside him. Rodrigue looked to be deep in conversation now with Dedue, but perhaps out of some sixth sense realized he was being observed. He looked up at them with some surprise, and then laughed and gestured for them to come over. Shez found a few beats later that he’d gotten to his feet almost in exact unison with Dimitri.
But at least the prince was smiling again. “Thank you, Shez. I am truly grateful. If there’s anything else I can do to help—”
“Don’t give up either.” Shez said, and on a whim punched him in the arm. It was like punching a tree, but sturdier, though at least his grimace and immediate attempt to shake out his hand got another laugh from Dimitri.
“Nngh— well. Anyway. I’ll be the best friend I can if Rodrigue wants me to be, so you should keep trying too, all right?”
“A king ought to lead by example, I suppose. Very well. I’ll do my best.”
The next few days - and really, the rest of this year at the Officers’ Academy - were going to be very interesting, Shez decided, and cheerfully went with Dimitri to go bother Rodrigue again.
