Day 1: Armour.
The tense atmosphere around the camp kept everyone quiet and their attention focused on whatever task they were attending: sharpening weapons on the grinding wheel, practice drills on the outskirts, or simply taking stock of their supplies convoy. Takumi was guiding Elise through the motions of using a yumi, whilst Sakura tended to Camilla's ankle, sprained from a fall from atop Marzia; Marx, Ryōma, and Hinoka were discussing quietly over a map, tucked away in one of the command tents, and Leo pored dutifully over tomes and scrolls.
There was a palpable sense of apprehension to their work, as though they were attempting to distract themselves from the reality that the final confrontation was at hand. They had fought monsters, Faceless, and were hardened enough to not give much thought to the slaughter of humans until after the battle. But facing an ancient dragon, warped through years of hatred, powerful enough to influence the hearts and minds of men, was unlike anything they had to face before.
Corrin was feeling the effects of such a fear most intensely out of all of them. Azura could see the tremble in his limbs as Yukimura led him to a tent, so that the prince could be armed properly.
"Allow me to come," she pulled the scholar aside for a moment. "I need to speak to him after. Privately."
Yukimura did not so much as blink at her request. "Of course."
Inside, a small army of squires and knights were readying him for battle. Corrin acknowledged Azura briefly, and redirected his gaze to the master of arms, who was explaining the new additions and improvements to his newly forged creations. The prince was then carefully stripped down to his underclothes, and the arming began.
First were the thin trousers and undershirt, the first layer; then came the pieces of mail, brought over by specially trained smiths from Cheve, lightweight enough to be used over clothes, but strong enough to stop the point of a sword.
Azura heard Corrin swallow softly as she joined the attendants in dressing him. He did not question her presence in any way and kept his glassy eyes trained to the front.
The sabatons and greaves went over his feet and legs, and were strong enough that they required two men to each piece to be snapped in place. Next were the poleyns, the cuisses, the cuirass, all assembled together with the greatest of care. Azura's brow was cloaked in a sheen of sweat from the constant effort of bending and standing and adjusting, though none said anything of her work, wisely enough.
And yet, it seemed as though Corrin had been doing all their work for them; buckets of sweat were simply pouring off him. His body trembled as though having to carry the weight of three suits of armour. His constant, nervous swallowing punctuated every snap of a harness, every buckle of a plate, and his pupils had shrunk to tiny pinpricks in a pool of red.
It seemed as though each piece added onto his suit made his trepidation grow. Instead of defending him, it made him all the more naked to his fears, to the very real threat they were going to face too soon.
When the arming was finally complete, the master of arms tested its fit and durability. He bade Corrin to sit, walk, jog, and then run; he made him perform standard exercises such as lifting objects of various weights, push-ups, climbing. The final tests involved tasks including climbing, horseback riding, armed combat, and even transforming with the use of his dragonstone. Corrin passed them all with flying colours and the master was pleased. He was about to come forward to speak to Corrin until Yukimura intercepted the man and shared a few words, his fan hiding their mouths. The master sighed. He bowed to the young prince and shepherded the squires and knights out of the tent, with Yukimura following soon after, cinching the tent flaps closed.
Only Corrin and Azura remained inside.
NaÏve and optimistic as he usually was, Azura's heart hurt for him, to see him in such a vulnerable state. He collapsed into a chair, and Azura rushed to him, holding him as he wept into her long blue hair.
"I'm so afraid, Azura," he confessed tearfully.
"We all are," she soothed.
He shook his head. "I know, b-but," Corrin gulped in a long, shuddering sigh. "The fate of so many depends on us. On me. I lead this army...if I fail…"
"We won't," Azura assured determinedly. "You won't."
"H-how can you be so sure?"
Heavy was her heart, to see his tears falling so freely. She cradled his face—usually beaming with kindness and cheer, now replaced by his worries and pain—in her hands. She held him and sang to him and kissed away his tears. The taste of salt lingered on her lips, and was a sad reminder of his lost smile.
"You have already done so many incredible things before. And you can add this to the list."
"I'm mortal," Corrin replied tiredly. "I'm not the smartest around here, nor am I the strongest. I've done my fair share of stupid things, too. That doesn't speak well about me at all. And we have so much to lose..."
"Oh, love," Azura sighed. She pulled him into her lap with a quiet whisper of her long skirts. He curled up into a tight little ball, burying his face in her stomach, holding onto her for dear life. She murmured softly to him and combed his hair gently before resuming her speech. "Believing in yourself is half the battle. You of all people have told me that many, many times before."
"Yukimura and Takumi called it dumb luck."
"Yukimura is a man of books and numbers, and Takumi is often too spiteful and self-absorbed for his own good," Azura reminded him gently. "They are not men who know about turning the hearts of others like you do."
A single red eye peered up at her from her lap. "What good does turning the hearts of others do when we're going to fight a dragon?"
She shook her head slowly. Corrin captured a stray lock, and busied himself with twining the blue hair around his fingers. "It lets you see the good in others. It lets you want to be the best you can be for others, and build strong bonds with them. An army isn't built from a single soldier."
"If it was, then maybe there would be less bloodshed and death to worry about," he mumbled sadly.
"No, love." Azura coaxed him into a sitting position, drying his fresh tears and hugging him closer. "We would all gladly put down our lives for you."
"Please don't say that…"
"I speak the truth. Yes, some will die tomorrow, maybe even all of us...but if we die, we would have died for love of the land and for each other, Corrin. Death is frightening, yes...but having you by our side gives us courage. It reminds us of who and what we're fighting for. And turning that heartache into courage gives our swords strength. A soldier with no conviction is a soldier who won't even try."
Corrin groaned. He grabbed her shoulders and his nails dug into her skin almost painfully. His eyes were wide and swimming in more tears, more fears. "What good can conviction do against a threat like this, Azura? What good can 'trying' do if what we need is to win?"
"Will is a much stronger power than you realise." She calmly removed his hands from her shoulders. He immediately looked guilt-stricken, but she halted his attempts at an apology: she needed to finish speaking. "Even if death looms over us, we haven't run away from this, have we? We are ready to accept this challenge in spite of those dangers. It's perfectly normal to be afraid, and being afraid does not make you weak."
"What if I fail?" Corrin said in a small voice. "What can be done if I die and leave everyone to suffer? What about Nohr and Hoshido?"
A long, pregnant pause washed over them, but for Azura, a deeper sense of calm filled her very being. His baring his heart to her revealed the crux of his fears to her, and let her know what to do.
"Should you fall," Azura said carefully, "then Hoshido and Nohr will keep fighting on in your stead. Your love for your families is what united them together in the first place; your kindness helped to unite nations to fight a common enemy in spite of their grudge. And they will move on to mend what has been broken after their victory.
But you underestimate the others as well as yourself. True, mortal we may be, but we possess strength, courage, and drive. If we had none of those, then we wouldn't have been able to be here in the first place. It is precisely because we are strong enough that we've reached this final obstacle. You've faced death before, yes, but you've always come out safe in the end and stronger for it. You've fought against opponents larger and more powerful than you, and yet you're the one standing here today."
Azura stood and drew them up to their full heights. She wiped Corrin's tears away, holding his hands in her own. "You've moved mountains before, my prince. There's nothing to suggest you won't be able to move this one, too."
When the sun fell, and everyone was sequestered in their tents, Azura stayed with Corrin and kept vigil by his bedside. She sang him to sleep and smoothed his gray hair out of his eyes with nothing but a twitch of his fingers to suggest he had ever felt it. She was as afraid as he was, yes, but she had the utmost faith in him. And if he did not have faith in himself, then she would be the armour around his heart, to protect him from his worries and doubts until the dawn chased away the night.