Work Text:
There exists a popular theory in Dunkelfelgerian gewinnen circles which posits that “strong pieces should attack.” In normal games, this is generally played straight, with offense being the best defense and other such measures. However, in real-life applications, the phrase takes on a secondary meaning: strong people should be in positions of power, and those in positions of power should be strong. When soldiers maintain faith in the martial strength of their superiors, and leaders trust their subordinates to follow their command, victory comes easily – or at least, this is oft preached back home.
But as Hannelore watches the last of her guard knights head off to defend against the intruders of their treasure-stealing ditter game, she clings to her geteilt and inwardly bemoans that she is not at all suited for this fight. The surprise waschen early on had been enough to shake her, and that was with apprentice knights blocking the forefront of the torrent; now her knees are shaking, struggling to keep her upright, as she considers all the ways things might go wrong.
Deep breaths, deep breaths… Using her shield as support, Hannelore takes a moment to steady herself and survey the battlefield. She isn’t especially adept at mana enhancement and so avoids using it on her eyesight in order to preserve her mana supply, meaning she can’t make out all the details, but she can at least determine that most of the fighting seems to be focused against the interrupters rather than towards Ehrenfest at this point. Whether Lestilaut has run into some sort of issue or has changed his focus for now, Hannelore is uncertain; all she assumes is that he hasn’t yet captured Rozemyne, else the game would have been called already.
Now picturing the event of Rozemyne’s defeat, Hannelore’s spirit wavers once again. In all likelihood, this entire fight is her fault, for having confided in her brother the positive relationship she hoped to have with Rozemyne. Much like with Schwartz and Weiss, he surely assumed that the best way to make her happy would be to obtain everything immediately by his own hand. Or perhaps, in listening to such repeated words of praise, Lestilaut had come to understand Rozemyne’s charms himself, and wished to secure a bride for his own sake. Either way, Hannelore knows that this is not what her friend desires, and the thought of inflicting misery upon her – possibly even ruining their relationship in the process – fills Hannelore with dread.
A pillar of bright green light shooting into the sky pulls Hannelore’s wandering thoughts back to her surroundings. The blue capes above her quickly take advantage of the intruders’ shock over what was certainly Rozemyne performing a blessing of healing and push forward, fending as best they can. Rauffen is already gone from his surveying post, meaning so long as everyone can hold on until reinforcements arrive, all will be well. Hannelore straightens her posture and places a hand at the ready near one of the offensive magic tools tucked away on her person; she, too, will hold out until help comes.
And then she spots an elliptical yellow dome heading straight for her from Ehrenfest’s side of the playing field.
***
“Ehrenfest, return to base!” Rozemyne belts out with all her meager might. “Bring the wounded with you!”
Once the injured gather near as best they can, she transforms her schtappe into Flutrane’s staff. “May Heilschmerz’s healing be granted.” Casting it gives her a splitting headache, but one of Dunkelfelger’s apprentice knights then gets knocked unconscious and crashes into the ground, so she brings him in for healing as well. Gritting her teeth and fighting through her flickering vision, Rozemyne resolves to keep steady so long as there are those in a worse state than her. However, the situation only grows more dire with each passing moment.
“Rozemyne, Lady Hannelore is still out there!” According to Wilfried, he’d been intercepted by the gatecrashers not long after heading out, and was forced to hold his position; eventually, he disengaged and returned with Judithe to help shuttle back the last of those too injured to make it safely on their own.
“Lady Rozemyne, the intruders…” Half those in the shield already have their heads tilted upwards as Rozemyne glances towards the sky at Laurenz's murmur, watching as the cacophony of capes above begin an assault on the crowd in the stands – consisting not only of Dunkelfelger students eagerly jumping into the fray, but also Ehrenfest’s noncombatants.
Wilfried takes action without hesitation, ordering all the recovered knights to protect the spectators. But with some still in the process of recuperating even after she provided her healing, Rozemyne knows that they don’t have enough manpower to spare for a group of knights to venture out and bring Hannelore back to the safety of their shield.
Rozemyne stands up slowly, putting one hand against her head as her vision spins, the other stretching out in a halting motion to stop her retainers from swarming her. There is only so much time left before her rampant mana usage catches up to her, but for now she can maintain consciousness, and being awake means she can take action.
After all… If Lady Hannelore isn’t safe, then I’ll just have to rescue her myself!
With slightly wobbly steps, Rozemyne makes her way towards the edge of her shield while ignoring the burning gazes of her retainers as they quietly move in step behind her. Were Cornelius still at the Academy, she gets the feeling he wouldn’t even have let her move this far out to begin with, and the recollection of her brother’s ever-so-common worried expression makes her chuckle. Alas, much to the likely dismay of her retainers, Rozemyne has no plans to stand idly by while Hannelore’s safety is unconfirmed.
Now approaching her shield’s border, Rozemyne pauses to take a breath and collect herself. O Goddess of Wind Schutzaria, protector of all… Please, lend me your divine strength once more. It is less a prayer and more a plea, based in selfishness, that she may protect everyone just this once.
“Going somewhere?” Just as she reaches out her hand to touch the edge of the shield, Laurenz scoops her up.
“You can’t stop me.” Rozemyne feebly attempts to shake loose, although her failed efforts mostly just serve to put the certainty of her statement into question.
“I don’t think I could even if I wasn’t name-sworn. But I can at least be your legs, Lady Rozemyne.” He turns back and shouts for Wilfried, whose attention has been drawn away by the tasks at hand, and lifts Rozemyne a bit too much like one might hold up an unwieldy sack of potatoffels. “We’re heading out to rescue Lady Hannelore! We’ll be back shortly!”
“Understood!”
“Alright then, Lady Rozemyne, please… do your thing?”
She glances between him and her other retainers, who all appear uncertain but make no move to stop her, and eventually nods in acknowledgment of their understanding. Laurenz pivots the two of them back to face the edge of the shield, and Rozemyne gingerly places her hand where she pictures it to lay. Is she only imagining the touch of cold metal against her palm? Once more, she offers supplication to the gods, and pushes her hand forwards.
Like a cell undergoing mitosis, the shield stretches out alongside her, allowing Laurenz to move forward. One step, two steps, three steps… They’re past the original boundary of the shield now, with their little bubble slowly peeling away from its source. The rest of her retainers are staring worriedly after her, but she can already tell she doesn’t have the energy to make it large enough to fit anyone else on top of Hannelore, so Rozemyne simply smiles and waves as the mini-shield completes cytokinesis.
Both shields hold steady; she can feel them in her schtappe, in her heart, like two heartbeats sounding in tandem. Please protect them.
“Phew, glad that worked.” After Rozemyne voices her relief, Laurenz whimpers quietly; strange, perhaps he saw something frightening in the distance? “Now, my precious legs, I’d suggest running.”
***
As soon as Hannelore recognizes the person in the dome as Rozemyne (and one of Rozemyne’s retainers, presumably), she runs to the very edge of the small circle of ivory flooring which marks Dunkelfelger’s base zone. “Lady Rozemyne, what are you doing here?! You should be at the Ehrenfest base, where it’s safest!” Rozemyne’s eyes are sunken and her skin has a most unhealthy pallor; being all too familiar with her sickly nature, Hannelore cannot begin to guess how she is still conscious.
“Ehe… We’re here to pick you up. How dare those meanies of Dunkelfelger leave you to fend for yourself?” Though she is clearly exhausted, Rozemyne still smiles wide. “Please come over to my shield, Lady Hannelore. Ehrenfest will always welcome you.”
Hannelore has had the fortune to see Rozemyne’s shield of Schutzaria multiple times already – first in schtappe transformation class, then again at the Interduchy Tournament – but never has she entered it before. In practice it is said to block ill intent, of which she of course holds none towards Rozemyne, but the idea of somehow being denied regardless worries her. More so than losing the ditter match or admitting failure to her family, the fear that grips her heart in this moment is the fear of rejection. She wants, desperately, to make it through, and that same desperation leaves her feet rooted in place.
A hand reaches out, nearly grazing the edge of the shield, drawing Hannelore’s attention. “Let’s go, Lady Hannelore!”
“I am glad to be your friend as well, Lady Hannelore.”
“I could not fathom a reason to hate you, Lady Hannelore.”
“After all, Lady Hannelore… you and I are soulmates!”
Bluanfah has surely nurtured each and every one of Rozemyne’s kind words in Hannelore’s heart all this time, to the point she knows not when seed turned to sprout. All Hannelore knows is that the exceptional figure in front of her has never wished her anything but happiness. Her mind clears, and she lets her anxieties of leaving for the opponent’s base all wash away; after all, it is not enemies that await her, but allies.
With a small smile, she dispels her geteilt. “Let us go, Lady Rozemyne.” Hannelore grasps the hand in front of her and steps off the ivory Dunkelfelgerian floor, passing through the amber barrier with ease.
***
The trek back to Ehrenfest’s ditter base is arduous; the only thing preventing Rozemyne from losing consciousness is her head's constant jolting as Laurenz runs for safety with Hannelore right behind him. It’s not fair… Why can’t I run as well as Lady Hannelore? Superfluous thoughts like these bounce around her mind much like the bouncing of her head.
Upon their return, the shield melds with its parent easily, and the tiniest amount of strain lifts from Rozemyne’s shoulders. Laurenz shifts her position so her head can rest against his chest, and from the vibrations against her cheek, she can tell he’s speaking with someone. Though she cannot muster the energy to turn her head and confirm, by the sound of things, he and Leonore are updating each other on the situation. Luckily, from this angle, Hannelore is still within her sight, so Rozemyne watches contentedly as the cute archducal candidate timidly glances around.
Rauffen’s booming yells then sound above them, soon followed by Anastasius’s affronted shouting. Silence falls at last as the intruders are rounded up, and Rozemyne heaves a deep sigh of relief. “Oh, thank goodness…”
She disperses Schutzaria’s shield now that the battle has ended, and the effort immediately renders her unconscious, such that she hears neither Hannelore’s yelp nor Anastasius’s order that all archduke candidates report to him immediately.
