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Taking in a deep breath, the High Prince of Hoshido felt a weight lift from his shoulders.
The war was over. Roughly an hour ago, the king of Nohr had loomed over the Hoshidan army. Now, he lay a corpse at their feet, the sounds of victorious cries echoing throughout the throne room. A thought passed Ryoma’s mind as he looked from the king’s lifeless body to Raijinto now tucked away in its sheath- finally the mad king had succumbed to the very blade his father had held when he was struck down. A truly poetic sense of justice had been served, Ryoma mused.
“Big brother!” Three voices caught in his ears, his head whipping around towards the source. His smile grew bigger as he laid eyes upon his siblings- Hinoka, Takumi, Sakura. The siblings that had aided in the hard campaign against Nohr. The samurai couldn’t help but awe at how well his siblings had grown. Ryoma accepted Sakura’s weight as she jumped into his side, and snickered as Hinoka gently punched his arm. Takumi put on his best eye-roll but hid his grin terribly.
Truly, Hoshido could now be safe. The threat of invasion that had loomed like a shadow had receded, and the country could flourish to its full potential once more. And at last-
“MILORD!” An urgent and frantic voice cut through his thoughts, as well as the clamor amongst the army, a new silence filling the room. Each and every soldier was on edge, anticipating an attack.
But the sight Ryoma saw next was not that of a Faceless, a Nohrian, or even a rogue Hoshidan. His blood ran cold. Whispers began to stir within the crowd.
Azura.
His eyes flicker from the soft contours of her face down to the two small bodies between them, his arm covering their sons and holding his fiancee close. While it probably wasn’t the best move to get Azura pregnant before they’d even uttered their vows- a Nohrian princess bearing the children of the High Prince of a nation they were at war with was certainly not a great look. But laying here in bed with his family, Ryoma affirms this is the best decision he’s ever made.
Even despite the teasing he gets from his siblings and the fit Yukimura had when he found out.
Or how much it made him a hypocrite when he lectured Takumi on self control.
“Azura.” He murmurs, his tone light as he tries not to wake their children. Gods knew it was nigh impossible to get Shiro back to bed, and Shigure loved to be just as troublesome when the boy got going.
“Mmm?” She hums in response, her eyes planted firmly on their children as she absentmindedly strokes Shiro’s bangs.
“Thank you. For everything.”
She looks up at him shyly, the same look she gave him all those years ago in front of him and his mother. The first time they met. The first time they fell in love.
Instead of answering, her lips curl upwards as she begins to sing a lullaby, Shigure beginning to stir. Ryoma is all too happy to listen.
A master of arms approached, the songstress leaning weakly on his shoulder. Her breathing was labored, and her already pale skin was even whiter than before; clammy and bone-like. Even the light gold tone in her eyes seemed faded, her eyelids drooping lazily. Ryoma made each and every observation as he bolted down the throne steps, internally cursing how slow it was taking him to reach his fiancee.
Making it to the base of the steps, the prince hastily took Azura from the soldier’s grasp, keeping her close. The soldier gaped at him, waiting for orders.
“Healer. Now.” Ryoma growled, scooping the songstress into his arms- the fact that he even had to make something like healing her an order said much about the trust his countrymen had in their future queen. He felt his lip curl, only for the more obvious answer to hit him.
“Stop- Sakura! Here! Bring your rod!” The swordmaster turned back towards the steps, eyes tracking to his younger sister. The priestess paled once she took in the whole of the scene, stumbling towards the couple. Hinoka and Takumi took off at a similar pace, the three siblings looking wrought with shock.
As the trio made their way to the base, Ryoma set Azura down, a million thoughts racing through his mind as his hand stroked her cheek.
The contact seemed to pull the songstress from whatever trance she was in, her eyes fluttering open wearily. At the sight, Ryoma pulled in a hopeful breath- he’d been fearing the worst. But the rise of hope soon diminished as her hand weakly grabbed his, her eyes then threatening to fall closed once more.
“Saku-!” He began, only to look up to see the frantic mein of his sister as she began to raise her festal. The young priestess shut her eyes, a look of pained concentration covering her. A soft light emanated from her staff, the glow basking Azura in a soft hue.
“Azura.” Ryoma began, his voice growing soft. The samurai hoped speaking to her would do something. Anything. “I need you to stay with me, now. Just a little longer…” Just until Sakura could finish her job. Once she’d wake, it would all be okay.
But as the light of the rod died, she did wake, but not in the way Ryoma had hoped. Her eyes were strained, the gentle movement of her hand to his cheek obviously sapping whatever she had left. A pit formed in the bottom of the High Prince’s stomach. He had a most dreadful feeling as he squeezed her hand.
“Sakura!” He bellowed, eyes snapping upwards. They were running out of time. He was met with the shaken look of his little sister, her eyes red as she raised her rod again, only to freeze. Sakura’s eyes widened- shock and horror flashed behind them.
Tightening his grip on the songstress, Ryoma’s eyes narrowed at the priestess.
“What?!” He snapped. He knew he could truly never forgive himself for lashing out at Sakura in such a way, but in the heat of the moment, that was one of the last things on his mind.
“T-T-The rod! I-I-It’s b-broken!” Her stammer was strong, the flurry of emotions in the room and herself slurring her words. Her older brother’s face went white with understanding. Another voice caught Ryoma’s attention. Looking down, the prince could feel himself breaking in two.
“R-R…Ryoma…my dear.” The words shook, and matched the pace of his heart. Azura managed to steady herself, forcing all of her energy into her next words. “Can I see you smile for me? One last time? One more smile...before I go.” She gave one of her own, albeit pained and weak. The High Prince could only give a shuddering breath. The whole room had regained its silence- both the army and the Hoshidan royal siblings stood in shock as their future king held their dying queen.
Sumeragi’s death. That had been the last time Ryoma had truly shed any tears. All those years ago, when his mother was still with them, when there weren't so many scars across his hands, and before he’d been graced by Azura’s song.
But now, all he can do is let the droplets fall as he cradles her in his arms, her smile growing fainter. He’s been through war, seen hundreds die and many more suffer, but nothing is harder than mustering the strength to smile for her.
But he’s never been one to give up, and he certainly won’t let her down now.
So he lets his mouth move, the motion almost alien as his lips curve upwards. It’s not the best one he’s ever given- he knew he’d give her a better one at their wedding. The wedding now not to happen. The full realization made his mouth bitter, but he forced his lips to stay gentle and upright as she sighed.
“That’s right…. lovely. I love you and our sons so much…” He can see a few tears drag themselves down her cheeks now, her fingers giving one last stroke to Ryoma’s jaw before her body aggressively seized.
Starting from her feet, her body began to crystallize, the shards then slowly vaporizing into the air. As she began to disappear, Ryoma grasped at her tightly, pretending that he had any semblance of control left. Her body felt like ice, her once beautiful golden eyes now glazed over with the shade of death. The swordmaster can feel her hips crumbling, and all he has left is her torso and head. Knowing he only has seconds left, he gives one last kiss to her still lips.
When she leaves him, he howls in anguish.