Cyrkensia was burning, with torn buildings and warring factions covering the rubble and causing chaos no matter where the lavender-haired wyvern rider looked. It broke her heart to see the once-beautiful port town to be in such shambles, to watch it fall apart underneath the spell of the invisible enemies and become a stage for the war between her homeland and the forces of Hoshido. She had few, but good memories of happier times within the neutral and peace-faring city, and even from the corner of her eye, she recognized the shambles of the opera house that housed their enemies far ahead. No matter where she turned she could see the devastation of the fighting and the mystery, and only the splintering force of Eve and Aidan's army had forced a stop to the battling and brought in a new sort of chaos.
It had been Aidan's idea to direct their soldiers into the very middle of the combat and break apart the frontlines with one simple, calculated thrust, and with a firm command, Eve had seen to it that his plan was carried out to the letter. Her soldiers marched forward with fearless determination, stalling the lines of combat and forcing back the armies of Nohr and Hoshido with almost little effort. In alarm the warring factions had fallen back, unsure of the sudden onslaught and unable to predict their movements, and Eve took full advantage of the confusion to further push the lines apart to ensure no more fighting occurred on the already burnt and collapsed port town.
Yet, as the forces became a solid wedge between the armies, Camilla marvelled at the obedience the soldiers showed to their orders. Eve's command had been absolute; that no matter what, there were to be no casualties to either side should it be avoided. Indeed, it was almost with reluctance that the soldiers engaged the opposing armies to create the pause in battle, and at each and every turn, lethal blows were withheld to send scurrying Nohrian and Hoshidan warriors back behind the frontlines and under the wings of their opposing princes.
Still, as Camilla dismounted Myrrh and hefted her axe over her shoulder, she admitted with a wry grimace that she could not in good faith follow the orders her little sister had given. No, when she had flown overhead, surveying the enemy lines and finding her elder brother at the fore of the Nohrian army, she hadn't been able to heed to better judgement. She had directed her wyvern down to the earth, dismounting behind a broken building with stern orders to her mount to remain hidden before she looked out to see her brother seated on his black stallion, overseeing the battle with a fearsome scowl upon his handsome face.
He was watching it all with a glare, staying where he was as Eve and Aidan carved their way through the town, scattering his troops back to his side as they went. Camilla felt a pang deep within her chest at his expression, taking in the anger, the betrayal, and the hurt in his burning burgundy eyes with guilt. She knew what he was seeing, what he was ignoring, and it drove her forward with a heavy, defeated breath as she stepped out behind the corner and spoke out loudly, clearly, "Hello, Marx."
The first prince of Nohr swung about immediately at the sound of her voice, but she stood unafraid and unmoved as he gripped the handle of Siegfried tightly in his hand at the sight of her. His eyes narrowed, his face betraying another moment of hurt before hardening in a mask of wrath, and he checked his stallion with a nudge of his heel as the great beast snorted loudly at the sight of an opponent. He aimed himself towards her, his blade glowing faintly in his hand as he replied in a voice made cold with anger, "Camilla... Iago told me of your failure and betrayal. And here you are just as he said; turned traitor. I expected better of you."
"And I expected better of you, Brother." Camilla replied coolly, stung by the words, yet unbowed in her desire to face him as she was. There was a strange thrill to it, to stand in front of her elder brother as a woman free of the chains of her father, but it came with pain and sadness that she had been well prepared for. Her own eyes narrowed in response to his glare, and she lifted her chin in defiance as she continued with the faintest hint of disgust, "Since when are you beholden to a craven like Iago? Did you not need to see with your own eyes before you took his word at face value?"
"My eyes see everything clearly, regardless of the man's word. You stand with Eve and Aidan's forces, plain as day. Do I need more to tell me you intend to fight me?" Marx's reply was just as cold and sharp, and Camilla admitted with a grimace that he was not wrong to say so. He swung down from his horse in a smooth, practised movement, and she gave ground to him with several backward steps as she eyed him warily. His blade hung at his side, but the younger woman knew better than to assume that simply because he was not in stance that he was any less dangerous. His voice rang out with indignance and outrage, and there seemed to be a flame to his eyes as he demanded, "Are you a Nohrian royal, or aren't you, Camilla?! Are you throwing in your lot with the others? I demand an answer!"
"If wishing to stop the senseless fighting between Nohr and Hoshido brands me a traitor, then yes, Marx. I am no longer a Nohrian royal. Instead, I am free." Camilla's answer came quietly, almost regretfully, and she shook her head as she watched her brother's eyes widen momentarily, and then narrow even further with injury. She understood even though it hurt her, too, and she opened her arms in a gesture of peace, of reconciliation as she continued pleadingly, "Marx, I know you. I know you have reservations, just as I did. There is more to this war than you think. Your siblings are not the traitors you've been led to believe them as."
A harsh slam of Siegfried sinking deep into the ground at Marx's feet was the answer to her words, and Camilla winced away as a plume of dust and dirt rose up in response to the sudden strike. The first prince of Nohr stood resolute and cold a stone's throw away, his expression fierce and stance imposing as he replied to her with a harsh curtness that reminded her far too much of their father, "Enough! I've heard this already through Leon. I will not listen again to these ramblings. You have chosen your side, and it is opposite of me. Raise your axe and fight, Camilla. I will brook no more of this nonsense!"
"This can't be what you want, Marx! Think about what you're doing!" Camilla knew the words fell on deaf ears as her brother lifted his sword effortlessly from the ground he had sunk it into, but she held her ground as her axe lifted itself into position. His expression was stone, composed despite the wrath that turned his burgundy eyes into twin flames, and she knew despite her confidence that she was entering into a battle she could not possibly win. She stood at a disadvantage without her mount and with her axe, but still she refused to bow. She owed it to the twins she had sworn herself to, and she gritted her teeth and steeled herself for his oncoming blow.
It came quickly and without fanfare, and there was a roar in the wyvern-rider's ears as Siegfried clashed with the metal of her axe and nearly sent her to her knees from the sheer force behind the blow. Her arms buckled underneath the weight, forcing her backwards in a vain attempt to find her balance again, but her brother was relentless. He followed her retreat, and in response to his aggression and emotions, that black and violet aura about his blade seemed to grow and hiss. It burnt at her skin as she pulled back, wincing and hissing out curses as she dislodged her axe from Siegfried's blade and struck out once more.
The blow was tossed aside easily, just as she knew it would be, and Marx's expression didn't flicker as he watched her stumble to the side, growling under her breath as he knocked her away. He had the advantage of range and strength, and they both were well aware of who was the better warrior, but Camilla did not back away despite her better judgement. She simply raised her axe once more, panting and narrowing her eyes even as her limbs trembled from the effort. She called out angrily, ignoring the pain in her arms and the way her fingers felt numb about the handle of her weapon, "You're a damned fool, Marx... Can you truly not see what it is they want? Or do you not care? Is your obedience to Father all that remains of you?"
"You loved him just as I did. And you turned your back on him. On all of us. You've no right to speak about family." Marx's answer was cold, and Siegfried came down again to cut aside her axe and throw her off balance. He moved like a wave, impossible to stop even though she saw him coming, and she was only left with the option of retreat in the face of his wrath. She did her best to back away and regain her stance, but her elder brother was relentless as his sword crashed again and again down on her weapon without pause or mercy.
The blows were iron rain, buckling her knees each and every time she caught the blow, and her limbs shook and ached under the weight. Camilla was aware she would not last long under his assault, and from the glare in his eyes, she knew this was his intent. He would weaken her with his heavy hand before taking her clean from her feet, and by the time he sought the final blow, she would be too exhausted to defend herself. It was his way to fight, to overwhelm and overcome through brute strength, and she smiled bitterly as she knew she had picked a fight she would never be able to win.
Yet, as her axe gave again underneath Siegfried's assault, Camilla allowed her hands to loosen their hold to let the weapon spin uselessly across the ground. Her right hand moved to her hip while her left raised and aimed, and almost at once she was rewarded with an arc of flame circling her arm and exploding from between her fingers. The spell gave a roar of its own in contrast to the sound of Siegfried's flames, and the two connected with what only could be described as an explosion as Camilla gave ground and attacked simultaneously.
Grinding his teeth, Marx forced his hand on the flat of his blade as he pushed back against the sudden vortex of flame that Camilla had sent his way. Her spell hit like a lance and forced him on the defence, striking for his torso and making use of the fact that all he had to defend himself was his sword. He cursed as he held his ground against her assault, feeling the heat ripping through on either side of his face to scorch at whatever exposed skin it could as Camilla kept up the sustained fire. It was only a question of who would tire first, her magic or his blade, and the thought only made his teeth clench as he realized her determination to go down fighting.
The flames however could not be fuelled forever, and Marx was aware of the pressure behind his sword lessening second by second. A sustained blaze cost too much in terms of energy, and skilled as she was as a spellcaster, it was no secret to either of the nobles that her strengths lay in hand to hand rather than magic. Taking a step back, Marx twisted his blade to cut through the faltering fire, and with a harsh slashing motion he cut away from the remaining spell and circled out of the range.
Camilla stood panting and trembling, her axe now laying useless out of her reach as her hand dropped back to her side from exhaustion. Small embers still twisted through her gloved fingers, but she no longer had the energy needed to continue to cast the spell. Her wine-coloured eyes flashed defiance however, and though pale and shaken, she simply faced him with a grim scowl as he approached with slow, deliberate strides. 'Damn you, Marx... What will it take in order to get through to you?'
A sudden explosion of sound and light was her answer, and Camilla could hardly react as a surge of heat in the form a thick, golden bolt of lightning came racing from somewhere behind her to punch into the approaching prince's chest. The strike of lightning magic knocked the older man back, but again Camilla had no time to turn to find the source before she heard the familiar stirring of leathery wings from above. An ear-splitting roar shook the ground and almost brought the princess to her knees, but she was abruptly surrounded by strong, ebony and violet wings as Myrrh landed by her side and protectively curled herself about her rider with another screech of anger.
Then Aidan was in front of her, one hand outstretched and sparking with electricity as the other loosely held the bronze Yato at his side. In only a handful of seconds he had managed to turn the entire battle about with one expertly placed spell and the aid of her wyvern, and Myrrh let loose another warning roar even as she curled one wing about her rider's shoulder and lowered her head to Camilla's side. She effectively made herself a shield as she nudged her master behind her, hissing warningly as she bared her teeth and flared her wings to make herself as big a target as she possibly could.
Yet Aidan had effectively captured Marx's attention just as he had wanted, and as the first prince recovered, coughing, smoking and panting, Camilla could only stare with a mixture of surprise and gratitude at Aidan's back. He didn't turn to look at her, but he didn't need to as he held out Yato to his side, making it clear his intent in protecting her from the man in front of him. It was the perfect distraction as Marx looked up, burgundy eyes widening at the sight of his younger brother now standing between him and his sister, and his eyes only briefly flickered over to Myrrh's guarding of Camilla before his attention was again focussed on Aidan.
However, for all his intent, Aidan gave little notice to Marx as he held his ground between the two siblings. Instead he slightly turned his head, one hand still raised and sparking to prove that he was indeed ready to cast another spell if necessary as his eyes flickered to the side to find Camilla's face. He spoke quietly, not needing to raise his voice in the sudden silence of the ruined area that had become the siblings' battleground, "You disobeyed direct orders seeking out Marx, Camilla. Eve expressly forbade any combat with him or Ryouma."
"I know." Camilla answered wearily as she leaned into the supporting strength of Myrrh's neck, and she wrapped a steadying arm about her wyvern even as she looked down guiltily at her feet. There was no anger or blame in Aidan's voice, but she knew him well enough to know he was disappointed with her lack of judgement. He had been on the opposing end of the battlefield, providing support for the Hoshidan forces who had taken up the eastern front, and yet like magic he had appeared to her defence when she was in need, and she couldn't help but glance down at her wyvern as she knew that her faithful mount had likely been the reason behind it. However, she made no excuses as she knew there were none to be made, and she only could continue tiredly, "I had to, Aidan."
"I know. But now you need to retreat. Take Myrrh and find Eve at the fore. The fighting is almost done. I'll handle the rest." Aidan's instructions were calmly given, but the tone of his voice proved that there was absolutely no room for argument. Camilla could only glance longingly at his back before finding herself compelled to obey, and she mounted her wyvern reluctantly before clicking her tongue to let Myrrh know it was time to fly. The younger prince did not turn until the sound of the wyvern's wingbeats had faded, and only then did he spare a glance into the sky to find their silhouette disappearing into the smoke above.
Safe in the knowledge that she was now out of harm's way, Aidan returned his attention to Marx, who had been standing in grim silence ever since his appearance. He was not surprised that the first prince of Nohr had failed to react to his interruption, nor was he surprised that Marx had allowed Camilla to escape from their fight now that he had come to intervene. But as he lowered his hand and allowed the sparks of magic flickering about his fingers to dissipate, it seemed to be the cue to break his silence and the momentary armistice.
"I wondered when you followed Eve if it was your sense of duty to your twin that made you leave after her... but now it's clear enough that you are exactly as she is." Marx shook his head in regret, and he lowered his eyes as another wave of pain broke fresh upon him at the sight of his younger brother standing silent and defiant in front of him. It mattered little that Camilla had escaped, as he had known it would be impossible for him to keep her grounded while simultaneously fighting off his younger brother. Yet, as he watched Aidan staring at him with a completely stone face, he could not help but sigh with a mixture of anger and disappointment, "I had hoped you would come to your senses before we would cross swords. Yet here you are... Just another traitor to Nohr."
"Don't be deluded. Traitor? How can I betray something I never had loyalty to?" Aidan's voice snapped like a whip across the field, and Marx felt himself recoil at the amount of sheer ice that added teeth to the already razor sharp words. The younger man's eyes were like chips of frozen blood, narrowed and almost contemptuous, and he shook his head as he kept his gaze firmly fixed on the shocked one of his elder brother, "No, Marx. I never cared for Nohr or her conquests. My loyalty is not so cheap."
Shaken, it took Marx several moments to regain himself as an anger and hurt he had never known coursed through his body like a live flame. The dismissal was like a swordstroke to his heart, shattering the remnants he had tried so hard to set aside for the siblings he had loved for so much of his life. Wrath followed quickly on the betrayal's heels, deepening his voice and causing it to shake as he grasped all too tighter to Siegfried and shouted in answer, "Then all those years together, what were they to you?! Some paltry amusement as you stewed in hatred of those who called you family?! Did you never think of us as your siblings, as we did to you?!"
"Family is the only thing I care about." Aidan's response was cool, calm despite the heat and animosity that had been thrown so starkly in his face, and his crimson eyes hardly showed a flicker as he steadied his blade and slid himself into his stance. He showed not an ounce of concern for the anger in his opponent's eyes, and he continued in a voice that continued in the most matter-of-fact vein, "And you are currently standing ready to destroy it. I will fight to the last breath to protect what I love. But it will never be for a king who tosses aside his own children the moment they are deemed useless to him. So raise your sword, and come at me, Marx. You will not toss me aside as you have before. I promise you that."
No more words were needed as Marx took the invitation, and his roar seemed more beast than man as he leapt across the distance that separated him with Siegfried in hand and wrath in his eye. Aidan met him halfway, Yato already raised and ready for the ensuing clash, and the two sacred blades seemed to crackle and spit as they met and fought for dominance in their masters' hands. Aidan held beneath Marx's stroke, proving his footing sure and his arm strong, and as Marx pressed against him, he saw for a moment a flicker in the younger man's crimson eyes. His pupils had sharpened, turning almost catlike in the heat of the fight, and it was a strange sight to the first prince despite the faint memory of learning just how pure the draconic heritage of the twins truly was.
As they stood locked together, one sword grinding and snarling against the other in search of a weakness, Marx could not help but marvel at how far the prince before him had come. Only a handful of months ago he had been so easily knocked aside when faced with his true strength, but now he met him as an equal. He proved his own strength easily enough, his stance sure and his footing steady as he likewise pressed against him, probing for an opening and ignoring the strain on his muscles at the two struggled for domination.
It was Aidan who found it first, sliding his blade lower and then withdrawing to force his elder brother forward from his own momentum. Aidan sidestepped neatly out of the way of his staggering opponent, but Yato showed no such mercy as the blade twisted like smoke about Siegfried and slammed harshly against Marx's heavily armoured torso. The blade ricocheted harmlessly against the armour, the sharpened edges finding no purchase, but it was the weight behind the strike that Aidan had sought, and as Marx was forced backwards, a hand gripping at his chest as he panted for air, Aidan was aware he had succeeded.
The older man glared even as he straightened himself, wondering how so much blunt power could be gained in such a short amount of time. Aidan fought like a seasoned captain, aware of his own limitations and strengths and fighting perfectly within them, and though it grated on the older man, he still was aware of a strange sort of pride. He had always known his brother was a warrior born, and here he stood ready to prove it with his sword in hand and a fierce glow of freedom burning in his blood-red eyes.
Yet many months had passed since the last time they had crossed swords as brothers, and his progress was more a threat than an accomplishment. It only made him wonder if Eve had likewise found herself without him, growing into her own now that she had left Nohr far behind her, but the thought did the first prince no favours. Instead it only served to fuel his anger, to further open that grievous wound that had fractured his heart, and he forced all of his emotions into the hands that held his sword as his voice turned again into a guttural sound of rage and frustration.
Aidan met him with silence as his blade once more met Siegfried mid-swing to counter and hold him in place. Though his eyes were alight, his expression was unreadable and almost blank. He seemed more metal than man, as if he was only a part of the sword he held, and it frustrated Marx to no end to see it. The ally he had hoped for ever since he had watched him lift a blade was now his enemy, now his equal, and he could imagine no greater threat to him or his homeland.
"Why...?" Though he had sworn himself not to brook more speech, to end things with only his blade and his will, Marx heard himself gritting out the word even as his blade sparked and groaned against his brother's. The confusion caused too much of a war within his chest to allow for him to remain silent, and he could not fight against it as he locked eyes with the younger man and spoke through gritted teeth and a wounded heart that sought something he knew he should have given up long ago, "Why betray your family, if you cared so much for us, Aidan?!"
"I have betrayed nothing, Marx. Can you say the same?"
It was a slap across the face, a douse of ice water to his skin, and a blade in his stomach all at once, and Marx was frozen in the moment as Aidan's words burnt into something deep and sacred. He could not, almost would not answer as Yato suddenly disengaged, only to return with the wrath of a dragon behind it as it shrugged Siegfried aside and slammed into him with all the weight of a wyvern behind it. Marx felt his feet leave the ground as he was abruptly forced back, but he barely felt himself hit the ground several feet away from his younger brother as his sword left his hand from the shock of the blow and the subsequent landing.
Aidan did not advance despite the opening, and instead he merely held his ground as his elder brother lay prone and shocked before him. There was a depth of injury in the older man's burgundy eyes that Aidan had never seen before, and it made his jaw flex as he understood that he had hit a very well-buried nerve. He had not intended to do so, but he could not afford himself the remorse that he felt as he stood breathing heavily from the bout, sword still in hand and his blood pounding hungrily within his temples.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Aidan forced his hands to relax around the handle of his blade before he slowly, deliberately, returned Yato to its sheath. His fingers twitched unhappily with the knowledge that he was ending a battle prematurely, but his better judgement refused to let him lose his head to the adrenaline and anger he had allowed himself to indulge in during the heat of battle. It took effort to don his cloak of cool logic, but he wrapped himself securely within it before speaking with a calmness he did not truly feel, "The battle is over. The Hoshidan forces have retreated, and you shall do the same. Right now, Cyrkensia is under our command, and you will not wage more war here. Go, Marx."
Every inch of him, as prince, soldier, and commander, rankled under the order he was given, but even as he struggled back to his feet, Marx was well aware that he simply had no choice but to obey. He had been outperformed, both tactically and physically, and if he was to return with his life, and the lives of his men, he had to cede to better judgement rather than pride. He picked up his fallen blade and returned it to its sheath under Aidan's watchful stare, and he looked at him from the corner of his eye to reassess his judgement of the younger man.
Aidan had proven himself his better in this bout, and Marx accepted it despite the massive blow it was upon his ego and his heart. Yet he still seemed lesser in some form, as if he was not holding himself to a high standard that demanded he strive for more. The thought was a sour one to his tongue, and even as his body ached and his mind warned him that he had no right to continue to push, the swelling sense of resentment and anger demanded form as he spoke roughly, "When you arrived, you told Camilla that it was Eve's orders she disobeyed. Am I to understand that your forces are under her command, and not yours?"
Aidan didn't respond for a moment, but instead he rather tilted his head to the east as if he was catching the sound of something that Marx could not hear. But all too quickly he was returning his focus to the beaten man in front of him, and he responded with a shake of his head and a strange, almost bitter quirk to his mouth, "Why ask questions that you already know the answers to, Marx? I can't inspire a man to risk all he is and has to a cause he doesn't believe in. You and I both know that. But Eve...? Speak to her yourself, and perhaps you'll find yourself swayed, just as others have. Or will you not do so because you fear that exact outcome?"
"You've already won. Don't taint your victory by rubbing salt into the wounds of the defeated."
The coldly returned words were enough of an answer to his question, but Aidan ceded to the bitter response with a slight nod and a tired, strained chuckle. He turned his back on his brother, shaking his head as he glanced about the ruins of the once peaceful city for a route back to the centre of the battle. He knew he would be needed now that the fighting was over, but for a moment he allowed himself to tarry, glancing back over his shoulder one last time before muttering almost to himself, "Perhaps you're right."
Marx watched him retreat without a word, and it was only when the younger man disappeared into the smoke did he allow himself to heave a long, exhausted and pained breath. His entire body was ringing with pain, and his limbs felt heavy and almost numb underneath the weight of his armour. It had done little to block the most of Aidan's strikes, and rather the sturdy plates had even seemed to help his foe in winding him when necessary.
Shaking his head, Marx stiffly turned himself about to the forces he knew would be awaiting him on the very edge of the port town. He had seen them all withdraw under the attacks, and though it had grated him then and still grated him now, he was still thankful that every man and woman who had been under his command at the beginning of the chaos would still be returning home with him. For the loss of the fight there had not been one loss of life, and it made him grunt unhappily under his breath as he forced his exhausted and aching body forward, 'For all our show of force... What a demoralizing loss...'
As he approached his stallion, ready to mount and leave for the forces he knew were awaiting his arrival, Marx was surprised when the great warhorse gave a loud snort and reared back. He turned immediately in answer, one hand reaching for his sword in response to his mount's surprise and show of aggression, and he felt a twinge of alarm and dismay when his gaze turned upwards. Clear in the sky was a familiar figure that was the cause of his stallion's upset, and Marx ground his teeth as he hissed under his breath, "Gods be damned... Will I not have a moment's peace, if even to lick my wounds...?"
The answer came quickly as Myrrh touched down neatly several feet away, her rider checking her without a word as her second passenger leapt clear the moment the wyvern's talons were on the stone. Eve hurried forward as Camilla sat quiet and still on her mount, but the younger girl caught herself after several quick strides into no man's land, and she came to an abrupt, clumsy stop as if she was only just realizing who it was that she was approaching so carelessly. Her ruby-red eyes were concerned, flickering over him with a familiarity that made him both simultaneously relax and bristle, and he was also both relieved and ashamed to notice that aside from some dust and soot smudging her face and armour that she bore no wounds from the battle she had been commanding and fighting.
"Marx..."
The call was soft, worried, and Marx shook his head with a quiet, smouldering anger as he was reminded of just how much it had wounded him to hear her call him a bloodthirsty fool with that same sweet, melodic voice of hers. He returned her stare coldly, refusing to show weakness as he once more hardened his heart, and he returned her call with both anger and annoyance, "Eve. It's not enough that I must see and fight Camilla and Aidan today, but now you are here to also take a turn to rub my face in the knowledge that all of my kin are turning traitor to our homeland? I am tired of this farce. You have your victory. Take it and leave me in peace. You'll see me again on the battlefield soon enough. You can spare me of your self-righteous lunacy until then, can you not?"
Eve flinched visibly at his words, something he registered with a dull sort of satisfaction as she turned herself slightly away as if trying to avoid being square in the range of his well-deserved wrath. Yet she did not back away, and only after a moment of tightening her jaw and taking in a steadying breath did she look back up from her feet and to his eyes. The pain on her face was stark, and she made no attempt to hide it when she began again quietly, pleadingly, "Marx, I... I'm sorry... But if you'll just... On the day that the skies change, if you'll just come to the suspension bridge above the Bottomless Canyon... You'll understand everything. I swear that you will."
"I've no reason to trust you, and even less to walk into a Hoshidan ambush. Don't take me for a fool." Marx was well aware of the choking anger that was once more rising in his chest and forcing bile into his mouth, but he made little attempt to stymie it. He was well beyond patience and understanding, and was far too tired and injured to even so much entertain them as concepts. Too much had been done to his pride as a prince and a soldier, and as he looked at the woman solely responsible for it, he could not contain his rancour as he continued in a growl, "You have your victory today, but it will not last, Eve. I swear I will make you and all who stand with you face justice soon enough for your treachery. I called you sister, and you repaid our love with the sword. Do not expect me to not respond in kind."
"It's not so simple... I wish I could make you see that." Eve's entire body seemed to slouch in on itself, and she now made no attempt to look up from her bare feet as the weight of his words made her crumple. She wrapped her arms about her slim form, trying to find some defence for the harsh words that were cutting her from both outside and inside, and she shook her head as she murmured, "I know I can't convince you to join me, but... There is more to this war than you know, Marx. I can't stop fighting when I might be able to end this war peacefully. Archduke Izana spoke of a dragon that I should meet. Does that mean anything to you?"
Marx shook his head, and well aware that she would not give chase to him, at least not when Camilla was so close by, he turned his back on her without a second thought. Heaviness was all he knew on his shoulders, heaviness and pain, and he was far too tired to continue to entertain the words that she was continuously speaking. Her voice was too soft, too familiar, and it was far too much of a risk for him to give her an audience when he knew he was already so compromised from defeat.
"Why would I tell a traitor anything of value?" Marx threw the words over his shoulder, well aware of the hurt he would cause with his dismissal, but he forced himself not to look back as he spoke. His path home lay before his feet, and despite where he knew his siblings had decided to cast their loyalty, he could not be as foolish, or as selfish as they. His duty lay with Nohr, and he forced all emotion from him as he began his leave. There could be no room for emotion, no room for questioning, and he would no longer allow her call to stymie him as he knew she wished it would. She was a traitor, and he was the crown prince of Nohr... and there simply was nothing left to either of them but that one fact.
AN:
I am prepared for the pitchforks, so bring 'em on if you feel the need to throw 'em. I admit and sadly really dislike the fact that Marx's characterization is all over the place in every single route because apparently like five people are trying to write him at once, so there's a lot to be said about the man, let alone how someone should write him. For myself, and for this particular fanfic, I am surveying the crown prince as a broken and bitter man who is constantly finding himself at war with his loyalty to his home and father, and his love for his kin and their ideals. Whether or not you find this to be accurate to the character at this point in Revelations... Well, I can't judge for your tastes, and I'm rather pleased with how this work came out. I'm afraid we'll just have to agree to disagree here.
Anyway, so, this is going to be a collection of shots that is the answer to Lilac and Platinum, but for Marx and Eve. Obviously, there's going to be a bit more drama and angst to be covered here, and it's also going to stretch out across a longer period, but I've been eagerly awaiting my chance to write this, so I do apologize if it seems like this pair is getting more love than the former. I promise this won't be the case as I continue writing for Fates, and I also promise that as this collection goes, you will be seeing at least one Camilla/Aidan oneshot posted before this project sees its end!
For the given moment, I'm still in the US, but I'll be heading home by the 12th of September, and therefore you may see a bit of a lag in the coming two weeks in terms of update time. I tend to lose my muse on the cusp of travel, and I rarely write while on the bus since I'm stressed out and exhausted and unhappy about leaving my girlfriend. However, with that said, I am going to keep writing once I get home and get over the bus-lag. I just need some rest in the interim, but the brain will always be going even while I'm sleeping!
So, with that all said, I thank you guys for reading all the way through, and should you feel the need, please drop me a review to let me know how I'm doing or what you'd like to see in the future. I'm always eager (desperate) for feedback, and I appreciate all of you for reading, favouriting, following, or whatever it is you feel like doing once you're through with the fiction. Hope you guys all have a good day, and keep doing whatever makes you happy!
PS: Also, Aidan's a bit of a prick. In all senses of the word. And yet I still love him... I have problems.
Mood: Stiff.
Listening To: "Somewhere Out There" - Our Lady Peace
~ Sky