Chapter Text
Her head is ringing. It’s the first sensation she feels when she comes to. The next thing she realizes is that she’s flat on her back, her body aching all over as her blurry vision focuses onto an orange sky filled with smoke, and the ringing in her ears gives way to the clarity of roaring and screaming.
She lies there on the ground, unmoving and uncaring. There are sounds of metal colliding with metal, steel cutting through flesh. There are sounds of fire crackling and burning, roars of beasts filling the air before the wails of soldiers follow suit.
She would have stayed there and let it all consume her if not for a force nudging her arm.
Marianne looks to her left to see her steed pushing her with its snout, urgently moving her as if to push her on.
“Dorte?”
It begins to come back to her now. She slowly, painfully pushes herself up and the destruction around her is evident.
She was defending one of the walls of the Monastery. Her unit was tasked to this section of the Monastery as hundreds of Imperial troops marched down upon them.
She saw her allies engage them, Deer and Lions side-by-side. Her friends rushed headlong to meet the first wave led by the Imperial Emperor herself. She saw him tear through bodies to meet the Emperor.
She did not see the trebuchet projectile fly overhead and crash into her unit before it was too late. And as she takes stock of the crater that left crumbling debris and corpses around her, it seems she will be the only one to remember what they did and did not see.
Or maybe not. Because as she struggles to stand, three Imperial troops cross the bend and lay eyes on her. Marianne has no time to even think of death as they charge her, no chance to even contemplate that her life is about to meet its unceremonious end on the battlefield of war.
“HEY!”
A flash of pink collides with the three soldiers like a cannonball, one giant swing from a mighty axe sending their bodies flying out of view. Before she can process it all, Hilda is there in an instant, the bruises and blood adorning her unable to cover up the sheer worry, fear, and relief in her eyes.
“Marianne! Are you okay?!” The girl shakes her by her shoulders, and Marianne nods wordlessly. She is brought into a forceful hug that hurts, but she cannot help but reciprocate. Carefully but quickly, she is helped up by Hilda and Dorte. Hilda motions and calls out, and Marianne sees the rest of her Golden Deer companions running to meet them, though their house leader is absent. They’re sweaty, battered, and bloodied. Finally taking stock of her person, Marianne sees that she is much the same.
“Marianne, thank goodness you’re alright,” Ignatz is the first to say when they’re all within earshot. He is a mess like the rest of them, the lenses of one of his glasses shattered. “We saw the explosion and feared the worst.” Her classmates nod in worried agreement.
“I’m okay,” she speaks, but she is unsteady. “It hurts. But I’m alive.”
“And thank the stars for that.” They turn to Lorenz, the young man staring out at the rest of the battlefield. “Because I’m not sure if it will remain that way for long.” Following his gaze, they look down towards the main entry point to Garreg Mach. Marianne can only stare dumbfoundedly at the sight of hundreds if not thousands of Imperial troops marching their way up the mountain, towards the castle town, and the Monastery, the main walls breached and unprotected.
They look at each other, somber and wordless.
What else is there to say?
They had lost.
Their group makes its way to the opposite end of the Monastery. Other students that had stayed behind are fleeing in the same direction as well. Whatever knights and professors that remained are urging the students to run. They had placed Marianne on top of Dorte, the Golden Deer surrounding the horse and its rider to their destination, wherever that may be. The pathway is crowded, and the ridge to their left gives a clear view of the Church and Imperial forces clashing below, the former doing their best to stop the latter from making their way up the hill and to the escapees.
Atop her mount, Marianne can only watch the frantic and panicked faces of her peers and soldiers, alike.
Some are fine. Others were injured.
Marianne does her best to not focus on the less fortunate who wail in pain or are unmoving entirely.
“Where is Claude?” Marianne manages to ask. “Is he…?”
“He should be okay,” Leonie answers. “He told us to find you and went to hold the line below this ridge with Prince Dimitri. In fact…” Leonie points down to the clashing soldiers.
Her eyes manage to focus on Claude, sword in hand and deftly fending off soldiers. But what captures their attention is the Prince a ways off to his side, Dimitri’s spear viciously and mercilessly tearing through swaths of footmen.
She cannot help but feel a pit form in her stomach. She still does not know how to reconcile the fact that the same kind boy she had shared precious moments with had seemingly lost himself to this. All she can do is look away and focus on their current predicament.
“Hey! You lot are still alive, too?”
Their group is met by Sylvain, the boy riding his own steed looking worse for wear. Mercedes clings to him from behind, the poor healer appearing absolutely exhausted. Still, their eyes light up when they see her.
“Oh, Marianne, you’re okay,” Mercedes breathes out a sigh of relief. “We went to find you, but there was no one there by the time we arrived. Thank the Goddess…”
“We showed up just in time,” Hilda spoke with candor, unbefitting the sounds of death in the atmosphere. “She might have switched, but you never forget your firsts, you know.”
“You can be as cheeky as you want as long as it keeps us moving,” Sylvain brushed her off. A tiring, shaking sigh escapes him, a rare, stoic look overtaking his features. “You know, I didn’t think we were going to win, but I certainly didn’t expect this.”
A booming crash and perilous screams in the background only served to accentuate his point.
“Where’s the rest of the Lions?” Marianne had to ask.
“Up ahead. The Professor should be with them helping assist the evacuation.” Jerking his head forward to signal them to follow, both groups make their way back into the herd.
Marianne takes some solace knowing that none of her Deer nor Lion friends had been slain, judging from Sylvain’s response, at least. They had been defeated, entirely and utterly. But she and her friends could make it out with their lives. That was enough, for now.
Their group silently proceeds, their somberness contrasting with the panic and frenzy of the evacuees around them. In the distance, Marianne sees the rest of the Blue Lions. They look even more sorry than them, though they do their best to funnel traffic towards the free ground ahead, carriages and horses strewn about sporting Kingdom and Alliance banners ready to take their own and escape. Ashe is the first to spot them, the boy pointing to them and alerting the others. Soon enough, their parties converge, and there is a moment of reprieve.
“Sylvain! Mercedes!” Ingrid helps both off their steed and checks over them for injuries. Sylvain waves her off, saying that they’re fine. Her eyes meet Marianne, and she offers her a relieved smile, one that Marianne acknowledges with a nod.
“Everyone’s safe?” Annette bounces on her toes while taking a headcount of both Lion and Deer alike.
“‘Safe’ isn’t the word I’d use, but yes we’re alive,” Lysithea mutters.
Hilda is looking around doing her own mental tally before a frown forms on her face. “Where are the Eagles?” Her question is met with some defeated and unsure looks from the Lions.
“They’re on the other side of the Monastery,” Dedue finally says.
“Closer to the Imperial Army?” Raphael asks. “But why?”
“They’re evacuating their own,” Felix answers, mild disdain in his voice. “The Empire's granting safe passage to those of Adrestia that want to return. The Eagles didn’t want their presence to worry Kingdom and Alliance forces here, or so they say.” His implication is clear.
“Felix,” Annette says seriously. “They’re our friends. Just because they’re assisting Adrestian evacuees doesn’t mean-”
“It doesn’t matter,” Felix interrupts. “Friend or foe, the Empire is gonna overtake their position soon, and they won't have a choice. Either they go back or defect. We won’t be seeing them again.”
Marianne remembers her time with each of the Black Eagles, scattered memories, here and there. Looking around and seeing the dark expressions on everyone else present, she realizes that it has sunk in for all of them, the Lions and the Deer.
Alliances are fragile. And though they are allies in this current moment, their allegiances can shift in a moment. Especially in war.
“Unhand me!”
A thunderous, furious voice rises above the rest, and their two groups arrive just in time to see their house leaders, the future rulers that decide where their alliances lay, quarreling. Claude struggles to pull Dimitri up the hill to them, the Prince manically attempting to escape back down to the Imperials hounding them.
“Can you open your damn eyes and read the situation around you?!” Claude yells. "You go back down there, you get swarmed, and you die!”
“It doesn’t matter if there are hundreds or thousands, I will have her head!”
The Lions and the Deer move to separate their leaders. Dedue and Felix wrest Dimitri from Claude and drag him up with everyone else while Claude is helped by his friends, shaking his head in frustration.
“There’s hellfire and demons around us and you’re too preoccupied with a single person!”
“I do not care for what you think! I have a duty to uphold, and I will not have a meddling snake try to interfere!”
There is shouting and shoving and chaos between her friends, their conflict only adding to the pandemonium around them, and it is finally then that Marianne begins to feel that the world is ending. The Prince’s eyes are wide and frenetic. There is a moment when they meet hers, his wild eyes connecting with her haunted gaze. There is no recognition from him, and she wonders if he is well and truly lost.
An otherworldly call pierces the sky.
It is loud. So loud yet so inhuman that the whole world stills, their squabbling silenced by the force of nature they do not comprehend. A fleeting shadow passes over them, and both groups can only stare in wonder as a white dragon descends upon the Imperials before them.
Her hands go to cover her mouth at the sight of the winged beast blasting a beam of energy from its maw, raining destruction upon the soldiers who die like insects beneath a higher being.
Those bearing witness to the sight are at a loss for words.
Marianne cannot tell if the dragon is beautiful or horrific.
“Everyone!”
An authoritative voice calls out to their group, and the Professor is there unscathed. Relief washes over her, his steadying presence a gift from above.
“Teach,” Claude speaks in a low tone. “What the hell is that?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“How can you even-”
“Claude.” The Professor’s voice and face are steeled and unflinching. “We’ve lost. All that matters are your lives.”
They can see the agonizing curiosity and frustration on Claude’s face, but he nods his head in agreement.
“Professor, where is Edelgard?” Dimitri shoves those in his path aside without care and meets the man, staring over him with grave intensity. “You and I were with her last before we were scattered." The Professor stares back silent and unflinching. "Professor, please, I need you to-”
The Professor grabs Dimitri by the front of his collar and brings his face level to his, and their entire group is taken aback by the maneuver. Dimitri himself can do nothing but be stunned as the Professor speaks slowly and clearly.
“We do not have the time. We have to escape. You and your friends have to escape.”
There is a brief pause and for a few mere moments, an invisible bubble surrounds them. The outside sounds of anarchy and warfare are background noises to the sight of Dimitri slowly turning his head to look at his friends.
His gaze slowly takes in each and every one of them, each Lion looking back with urgency and concern.
It sweeps over the Deer who do not know what to make of him.
He locks eyes with her. A turbulent force of madness behind his pupils gives way to growing uncertainty.
All she can do is stare back, pleadingly.
When Dimitri looks back at the Professor, he nods solemnly.
“If any of you are able, help me direct the students towards the carriages to the field," the Professor begins to order. “Above all else, escape when you get the chance.”
“But what about Garreg Mach?” Ashe asks meekly. “What about…?”
The dragon in the distance roars again, reminding them that the world is still turned upside-down.
“Garreg Mach is lost,” the Professor reiterates. “The dragon is buying us time, but she’s not saving this situation.”
No one makes mention of how the Professor specifies the dragon is a “she” or how he knows that fact.
“When we leave, where do we go?”
“Home, ideally. As long as it’s far away from here and the Empire.”
“What about you, Professor?”
“The rest of the Knights and I will hold out for all the civilians for as long as we can, and we regroup elsewhere.”
“What about… all of us?” Annette makes a gesture to show the divide between the group of Lions and Deer. Both groups glance cautiously at each other. “What happens… after?”
“That is not for me to decide. The future from here on out lies on all of you.” His words are sobering and daunting. “But you all have my support. That will never change.”
Another piercing screech reaches their ears and Professor Byleth urges them into action.
Their party advances onwards toward the escape transportation, corralling anyone and everyone on the way. Marianne watches her friends take charge of assisting the guards in their ranks. She wants to help, but her body is uncooperative from moving off Dorte’s saddle.
“Easy. Rest, for now, Marianne. You did well.” The Professor is at her side and escorting her and Dorte along the path. His praises do nothing to make her feel better about the whole situation. The sound of warfare is cacophonous, and now that they are in the final stretch, it is almost unbearable.
“I can’t believe this is how it ends…” she mumbles to herself. “We did so much this year… Why did it end like this, Professor?”
“I cannot tell you why it had to be like this,” he replies. “But this is no end, Marianne. There is still a fight left to live for. This world and your allies will be needing you in the future.”
It feels like she should not comprehend his words. What does this world need of someone as small as her? She looks out to her wonderful friends she had made throughout the year and sees them helping while she sits sidelined.
She sees Claude, Hilda, Lorenz, Lysithea, Ignatz, Rapahel and Leonie.
Her eyes take sight of Dedue, Felix, Sylvain, Ingrid, Ashe, Annette, and Mercedes.
Marianne looks at Dimitri, a contradiction of a companion. And despite what she has seen of him, the memory that flashes in her mind is that of a night that feels so distant, of a private moment with a trusted friend.
A toast and a promise.
“To our futures.”
For just a moment unbefitting her, Marianne chooses to believe her Professor to be true.
Carriages are fitted and hauled away in a rush, animals braying then riding away in droves. They are on the outskirts of the Monastery, evacuees riding away towards the sole exit path outside of Garreg Mach. Behind them, the dragon and Imperial troops continue to battle in one of the marketplaces, the area walled off from the ravine. The sun is beginning to set, everything becoming bathed in an orange glow. Despite everything that has happened from the time she awoke to now, she imagines that only half an hour has passed, yet it feels like the stench of blood and smoke has stained her senses for an eternity.
As the field begins to clear of vehicles, she finds herself and Dorte in their own spot, in-between both groups. Her Golden Deer companions have begun outfitting their rides and arranging their transportation behind her. The Blue Lions do the same some ways away. Both groups work hastily, ready to ride off at a moment's notice. It pains her that there are no joyful or hopeful goodbyes for any of them.
“You still live.”
Her breath catches in her throat at the sound of his voice. She looks to her left and Dimitri is there before her, so close to her that she can touch him.
He looks up at her in a daze. He is cut, damaged, and stained with blood. His right hand clutches a worn and messy spear at his side. Yet the only thing Marianne can see when she looks down upon him is a tired and exhausted boy. His eyes are no longer mad and wild but blank and sullen. There is no stress or anger.
Dimitri looks up at her, defeated.
“I do,” was all she could say. “And so do you.”
She watches his expression turn pained. He can no longer look at her.
“I failed,” she hears him whisper painfully. His voice is shaky and strained. “I could… I could not save them.”
The sight is all too much for her, a tightness forming in her throat.
She had seen him at his best, and she had seen him at his worst.
Whether he was righteous or vindictive, he has always looked strong .
It is painful to her heart now to see him pitiful and broken.
“Dimitri, please…” There are no right words she can find, and all she can think of is how useless she still is.
“I wanted to save them, Marianne,” he continues, his voice barely put together. "I wanted to free them so badly."
She does not understand who he speaks of, does not understand his inner turmoil, and it eats at her more than ever.
“I’m so sorry.” Tears begin to gather, and her voice threatens to break. “But, please… you must carry on. I do not know, nor can I say I understand, but you must find the strength to continue on. I cannot bear anything else.” Wet streaks fall down her face. She thinks back to all the times he has comforted her, but in this moment when she yearns to do the same, she finds herself incapable.
Her hand reaches out, unsteady yet moving all the same. She did not mean for it to, but now its course is decided.
It settles upon his cheek, the prince gasping at the feel of her touch. His eyes squeeze shut tightly, his entire being trembling.
“Please, do not…” his voice wants to continue but it quavers, and his plea fades away unspoken.
He leans into her palm before his hand rises from his side and comes to grasp hers. His fingers intertwine with her own.
Marianne does not know if this is right. She does not know if it is safe. She does not know if either of them deserves this.
Marianne does not let go.
His eyes open, clear and unclouded, and they peer deeply into her own. For the first time in months, it feels like she is finally seeing her good friend again.
His mouth moves slowly.
“Will I ever see you again?”
It happens so fast. A pained and terrible roar as demonic beasts descend upon the dragon. Their Professor is there, the Sword of the Creator knocking a beast through the walls and down the ravine. They all watch in horror when mysterious assailants send the man down the same cliff, painful screams and cries filling the air around her. There isn’t even time to grieve as the thunderous march of Imperial soldiers finally catches up to them.
It is chaos and hell. Dozens of platoons begin to descend upon them, arrows raining down on them. Marianne cannot react to Hilda pulling Dorte and her away towards the Alliance transport.
She does not know she is still clinging to the Prince until their grasp is broken.
There is cursing and yelling, but their transport breaks free.
Dorte is galloping ahead of the rest, and Marianne finally finds it in herself to look back.
The last thing she sees of Garreg Mach is the shrinking forms of her Blue Lion friends. He is staring back at her before he is ushered away.
It dawns on Marianne, then, that she never gave him an answer.