Send Her My Love
--
"Lord Renning, it seems that King Ashnard's forces cannot be held back much longer," the woman to my right informed me as she unsheathed her blade. Her blazing blue hair blew lightly in the sudden wind that had engulfed our beautiful Crimean capital. She inspected the blade thoroughly before turning to look at me with those bright azure orbs. "My brother has already fled with the princess, and they are making their way to the Gallian border as we speak. As I know that you will not budge in your position here, know at least that we, your retainers, have every intention to protect you at all costs and shield you from this massive bloodshed to come. I, particularly, will be by your side to ensure your safety."
Her eyes quickly darted around the landscape, surveying the battlefield I was sure. I glanced at the sky, the long blue stretches of air interrupted every few feet by ominous, dark clouds similar to those of all tales of impending danger. I then followed Lucia's example by studying the vast expanses of wilting and charred landscape around the castle.
Crimea castle, once known for its beautiful gardens and peaceful streams was now in ruins. Hours of fighting had left the grass bloodied. Flowers had been trampled over and those remaining were blood-splattered. Stones had been overturned, and trees burnt by the spells of fire mages. The grass that was recognizable had been kicked every which way by the hooves of soldiers' horses.
It was at this point that the woman beside me let out a long, exasperated sigh. "To think, we just fixed up the garden," she mumbled. "Ah, Lucia, what are you thinking? This is a war--such trivial things do not matter anymore..."
"Lucia," I addressed her. She spun around on her heel quickly, her eyes wide, most likely from shock at the fact that her thoughts had been said out loud.
"D-Duke Renning," she stuttered as she attempted a quick curtsey, "I hadn't realized that I... Pay me no mind, Milord."
"Don't act so terrified, Milady. There's nothing wrong with showing a little anger towards our foe, is there?" I shrugged. "Can't hurt anything, at least."
"Still, I should watch my tongue," she murmured.
"Speaking of watching a tongue, have you any idea where that crazy Count Bastian has taken off to? I'd prefer to have someone with quick wits about them up here holding the fortress and barking out orders--not that my current companion isn't witty enough to fulfill that purpose. And pretty as can be to top that."
I caught the blush she attempted to conceal as she chuckled. "I'll find him for you, Milord. By your leave," she added, bowing before slipping off towards the Western gate.
I gazed at her retreating figure, wishing I had just come right out and told her how I felt. I knew that it was unlikely that I would ever have another chance; I knew that there was no escape for me during this war. This old Royal Knight's commander may not survive, but by all means that beautiful and clever swordswoman was going to live if I had any say about it. As much as it would have pleased me to remain by her side to always protect her and love her, I knew that it was not meant to happen.
She is still but a girl, Renning... I silently scolded myself for my former thought. You are a prince, yes, but one that is nearly forty. She deserves better, don't you think?
--
The deep red substance flowed effortlessly down the cement walls of my prison. It was ironic really; this room had once been a calm and peaceful place I used for thinking and training. Now, now it was nothing more than a room I was confined to--a damp, dark place of torture. Memories of the fondest moments flooded throughout the thick air, but in the present there was no joy, no glee or carelessness. Here in the present, I was fighting to stay alive.
Chained to the rough wall of castle Crimea's cellar, I fought my weariness and discomfort, all in an effort to survive. It had been hours since the attack on the castle had ceased, and the Daein forces had emerged the victor of the battle. The majority of my comrades had been slaughtered brutally on the spot, but those whom the king believed would serve him some greater purpose were taken to the palace's dungeon on the basement level. All, that was, except for me. I was taken directly to this dreaded room with the fresh blood splattered on the walls, and its floors covered in grime and filth. This once beautiful room was now dingy and unrecognizable. The Daein forces had been in control of the capital for a mere few hours, and already the city lay in ruins.
No matter, they will not be in control for long, I was sure. If my niece still lived--and I was certain of that--the people would rally around her and take back their country. If her retainers were still by her side--the quick-witted Count Bastian, fearless General Geoffrey, and cunning Lady Lucia--I knew they would protect her at all costs. Yes, if Lucia, especially, still breathed, she would make it her person goal to see the Crimean throne restored to its proper owner.
That is, if she still breathed. No, don't think such a thing, Renning, I mentally scolded myself. With your own eyes you saw the lady and her escort depart the battlefield. Surely there was enough time for them to have a decent head start against the Daein troops. Certainly with the combined wits of the Lady Lucia and Count Bastian, the troops under their command could evade capture and defeat. To think, you sent your own personal guard of troops to accompany her in her travels to meet with the princess in Gallia.
Sending away my personal troops to accompany a lesser noble's daughter would have seemed foolhardy to any among the noble's council, I knew. In my eyes, though, it was the greatest chance there was in ensuring the future of Crimea. Ashnard's troops would have been hot on my trail had I attempted an escape from the capital. Any troops in my company would have been murdered on the spot. Lucia, on the other hand, could slip through the battle lines and make her way to Gallia in a much safer manner. I knew that my niece's spirits would have been crushed if her closest friend from her childhood had not been by her side as she fought to reclaim her throne.
I was likely meant to simply die here, alone and helpless. The once-powerful warrior I had been...it was all behind me now. My fate was in my captor's hands now, but hers... Her fate was now in her own hands. With the help of her brother, Count Bastian, the Royal Knights, the humble countrymen of Crimea, as well as many others, she would guide my niece back to our capital and send King Ashnard fleeing.
I would perish in the presence of strangers, but I was still a warrior at heart. Warriors laugh in the face of death; they do not care. To fight and die for one's country was the ultimate goal, and I was here to meet that goal at long last. Fate sealed, I awaited what was to come, with only memories to pass the fleeting time before my demise.
--
"Taha, Milord! Requested the presence of your humble, ever-loyal servant, have ye? Well, must say I that sending our sweet Lady Lucia was not of the most desirable choices, as her beauty causes even the sun to cease its shining out of pure jealousy, it does! Could not a more distracting presence be within a few feet of me, but here I am nonetheless, at your service!" the Count of Fayre announced as he appeared from a position closer to the front lines, Lucia following him closely from behind.
I observed her as she took in her surroundings, ever alert of the impending danger--a fact that the count appeared to forget. Under his facade of intricate speech and long, devoting poetry, though, I knew that he, too, was quite keen and aware of his surroundings. With a sigh, I replied, a slight touch of aggravation in my voice, "Yes, I did request your presence, Count Bastian. I have a task of utmost importance for you." As if I believed he would need more convincing to listen to what I was about to tell him, I added quickly, "It regards the Lady Lucia."
The woman's ears perked up at this, much as would a dog's ears at hearing the voice of its master. She gave me what was one of the most curious looks I had ever seen sweep across her usually placid face. Count Bastian's cheery face grew even merrier--if that was possible. Eyes lit up and a wide grin on his lips, he stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"Ah! Anything would I do for the lovely lady! At your command, attempt to move the very waters of the seas of Tellius I would in the name of our fair lady! Awaken the goddess, cross the Desert of Death, anything you ask my command will be!" the count droned on happily as Lucia looked at me in shock and horror, evidently awaiting the words to follow from my lips.
"Bastian! 'Tis enough, really," I exclaimed, giving him a look of disbelief. "You're terrifying her now." I waited until he had seen the look on her face before continuing, my point made. "Your task is none that complicated. All I wish is for you two to be accompanied by the second swiftest fleet of soldiers--the swiftest already accompanying my niece--and flee the capital. I would have you protect Lucia at all costs and ensure her safety to Gallia. I'm sure that I can trust you with this--"
Before I could even finish, the count had already sprang into action. With a dramatic flourish of his cape and a deep bow before Lucia, his jovial voice boomed, "Trust me? Trust me, sir, with a task so urgent? Protect the lady I would with my very life! No delivery more precious than our fair lady to be escorted to Gallia exists, I fear! With my life I would protect the fair--"
"Count, if you would, the horses must be prepared at top speed. If you cannot keep your head about you in this task, I shall have to assign it to another," I warned, interrupting his repetitive speech of worship for the Count Delbray's eldest daughter.
"Ah, yes!" he exclaimed. "Milady, only a moment shall I be gone before returning to your heavenly presence!" he cried what was more of a warning in her eyes than a reassurance. With another deep bow, he took her right hand and placed a kiss upon its gloved back. A bow to me followed before he darted through the crowd of soldiers.
Once his mass of blond hair had disappeared, Lucia turned on her heel, facing me no longer. Though I could not see her expression, I knew that she was deeply hurt by the fact that I was sending her away--with Bastian, the man who idolized and obsessed over her, no less. It was evident that she did not like my suggestion, but I knew in my heart that it was something that had to be done; I could not simply allow her to accept the fate awaiting her if she remained at the castle.
"Lucia, I'm sorry," I whispered softly. "I'm not trying to hurt you. Please understand."
"I understand completely, Milord," she remarked, a bit snappy and sarcastic, though that was only to mask the pain she felt from the blow that had struck her pride. "Besides, it is not my place to question your authority--you are the crown prince, after all. I'm but your loyal guard, and if you do not see me as fit to protect you--if you find me as more of a nuisance than a protector, then I would gladly leave the field and the fighting to you and your men."
I shook my head and silently scolded myself--once again--for my foolishness. I should have seen that she would take this request insecurely, as if I was suggesting that she was not fit to stay and fight with the men. As if she, a woman, was not good enough for us to call our comrade. I should have known that my simple and heartfelt plea for her to leave, to be safe, would be taken in such a manner.
"Lucy, that's not what I meant at all. You don't...I didn't..." I fumbled for words, feeling hopelessly lost, too many thoughts swirling 'round my head and threatening to cause an explosion. If only I could have been more like Count Bastian, the man who so openly expresses his emotion for Count Delbray's daughter, who has no fear of her rejecting him. Then maybe, just maybe, I would have worked up the courage to tell her what I had long ago realized--I loved her. I loved her like I had loved no one before. She was not a simple, agreeable woman, no; she was...priceless, in my eyes.
As things never turn out as planned and are never what they appear to be, I did not tell her this. Whether out of fear of rejection or foolish pride, I can tell not. But that was the fact of it--I hid my love and emotions for her behind my ever-strict and grim manner. There was no change in me physically, while my heart burned with such passion that demanded its release. The heart does not win a battle with a stubborn mind, however, so this fact of my newly developed emotion never reached the lady's ears.
Lucia sighed, "There comes Count Fayre with the horses. With your permission, I will take my leave now." With a bow in my direction, she sped off the meet the blond man who was leading the horses. Her long, azure hair bounced behind her as she retreated from me, shouting a simple "Godspeed, Milord" over her shoulder.
I mumbled, "Godspeed, dear Lucia," in reply as the count approached me, a grim smile on his face.
"Milord, meant to dishonor you this is not, but if I may make an observation..."
I rolled my eyes, showing my slight irritation with the man. "Go ahead, Bastian," I mumbled.
"Well, with all due respect, Milord, would not it be a disgrace to send the lady away? Surely her own she could hold--and easily, I must admit, as well... Ordering her to leave must seem like some sort of punishment to the woman who trusts you so dearly. I cannot begin to fathom--"
"--Bastian, I am not punishing her," I interrupted the man's rant before he could go any further. "You know very well the situation here--you told me yourself that anyone that remains here will die. Die, Bastian, die! I cannot just allow her to...to sacrifice herself in such a way. I cannot allow a woman who has been nothing but loyal and supportive of me to throw her life away for such a helpless cause! If anything happened to her, even if it meant me living, I would face the wrath of not only her brother, but of my niece as well. Surely you understand... I could not live with myself if she...died in my name," I finished, whispering this last part. Quickly, I blurted out, "Surely you would do the same for a woman you loved, wouldn't you?"
Startled, the count fumbled for words. His typically silver tongue became tongue-tied at this last confession from my heart. Dumbly, he responded, "I would do anything for Lucia, just as you would." Regaining his usual manner of speech, he continued, "Never before had I realized the seriousness of the situation between you and...the lady. You must forgive me first for my challenge at your authority. Second for...my attempts to woo the lady. Never was it my intention to deprive your lordship of... Excuse me, Milord, I haven't a clue what I'm saying at the moment," his raspy voice nearly cried out bitterly, expressing his distaste for my earlier comment.
"Bastian, please. I'm the one who doesn't know what he is saying. You have every right to fall in love with her, and you have every justification to try to make her feel the same. She deserves someone like you...you're noble and considerate. You're everything I can never be to her with this stubborn mind of mine. She needs you, Bastian...now more than ever," I admitted, patting the man lightly on the back. "Please, take care of her."
--
The scene faded before my eyes and a new one took its place, this one very much as real and unwanted as the last. I glanced across the room I was confined in, my mind still a bit hazy and dazed. There, in a giant heap, sat my armor bearing the crest of the Crimean Knights. My jeweled sword Amore and my silver axe Copia were nowhere to be found. In the place of my beloved armor and weapons I found a drab cloak, dull, black armor, and a demon's helmet. To my right side, I spotted a new lance and sharpened sword.
It was in this way that I sat when that daemon walked through the stone entrance of the room. With a wicked laugh, he spoke, "Well, Prince Renning, or shall I now say Bertram, how have they been treating you? Can't have a worn-down soldier in own league, now can we?" He shouted this last part in that malicious voice I had recently associated with him. The words he spoke had little effect on me; I paid very little attention after he mentioned Bertram.
That name, if I recalled correctly, belonged to a famous proditor of the Crimean government, several years before my time. This Bertram fellow had fought as a brilliant Crimean Knight in the fifth platoon before he joined the forces of Begnion in the battle of Mugill. This arrangement was not carried out before he managed to sell battle plans to the opposing side, causing Crimea to eventually lose much of its territory in the southeast.
Why he would associate this name with me, however, I hadn't a clue. I was no traitor--I was the prince! Clearly a captive prince, but certainly no traitor!
With another sinister laugh, King Ashnard pulled me out of my thoughts, back into the "real" world. "I can see you're running that name through your mind, my princeling," he chuckled. "I bet you want to know why I'd call you that, hm? Well, I'll tell you--that's how generous and kind I am." I glared at this last part. This diabolus was anything but kind. I smiled to myself at this thought, noting the use of ancient tongue--the little bit I had learned from Lucia.
My thoughts were once again interrupted as he continued, "Well, you see, as you are now my prisoner, you will do as I say. If it is my wish for you to fight as one of my soldiers, you shall."
"Very clever of you, Ashnard," I grimaced as the name rolled off my tongue, "but don't you think you're forgetting something?"
"Hm," he mumbled, appearing to feign thought. "No, I can't say I am."
"Then let me enlighten you... Once the Crimean army realizes you are holding me prisoner and forcing me to fight against my will, don't you think they will attempt to rescue me?" I questioned, a slight smirk on my face.
"That's the point, Renning," he uttered, shaking his head sadly. "They will not know that you are here--they will know only of a man named 'Bertram.'"
"Well, who says that I will fight for you? Surely you must know that I'd rather die than aid your cause," I added smugly.
"I thought of that, I really did. That is precisely why my genius Izuka has created this lovely drug for me. You see, we've already slipped it into your water, and it should very soon begin to take affect! If that doesn't work, we have other ways of making you cooperate..." His laugh after this caused a chill to run down my spine.
"Oh do you?" I managed, attempting to sound calmer and less frightened than I truly felt. "And would you also care to entertain my mind with what those ways are?"
"I'd love to, Milord, but maybe it would be best to leave that up to your imagination. On second thought, you probably don't have the brain capacity to think of such an important matter, so I will tell you. If you value that girl's life, you'll follow my orders precisely," he explained.
"You would not even have a chance to harm Elincia," I countered, my anger towards this man growing by the minute.
"Elincia? Oh, you mean that princess of yours? You fool, I did not mean her. That daughter of your count-friend...Lucia, was it? You do care for her greatly, don't you, Milord?" he mocked me with the words.
"You would not...dare to harm her," I said through clenched teeth. "You have no reason to condemn her to death, and no one in the army would allow it."
"Death? Why surely you jest, Milord! I meant nothing of the sort--I would not kill her. Surely with your life on the line, she could be persuaded to join my ranks as well. If she even dared to defy my commands after that, I would love the look of anguish on her face as I kill you before those cold, blue eyes of hers."
"I am not afraid to die, Ashnard, but you'd be mad to do such a thing to Lucia," I stated simply, trying to keep my mind off of Lucia being hurt in any way, especially the ways she could be hurt due to my carelessness. I wouldn't allow it...I couldn't.
"You do not know me well then if you believe that," he replied curtly, moving back towards the door. Over his shoulder, he added, "You would do well to think about what I have told you. Let your capture be a lesson as to what I could do to your former comrades. And let my wickedness inspire thoughts of what your dear Lucia would have to go through if you do not comply to my terms." With that, he exited the same way he had entered, still as gruesome and foul as before.
Once he was gone, I rested my head in my lap and wept. From my eyes flowed the vivid stream of hurt and pain from the past few years. All this heartache that had been bottled up and hidden from the world now released itself as measly tears. These tears, more for Lucia than myself, directed my flow of thought and convinced my mind of what I must do: to protect Lucia, I must fight for my most hated enemy, King Ashnard of Daein.
--
Exactly one year later, almost down to the minute, I stood against the stone wall of one of one of Crimea's many fortresses--a fortress now occupied by Daein. The scene before me was nothing out of the ordinary: rows of troops stood in formation, ready for battle. Their black armor gleamed, rays of sunlight reflecting off of the plates. I glanced at them with the same grim expression I used with my own soldiers.
Our battleground was noiseless. Not a bird chirped; not a soldier spoke. This newfound peace, however, would not last, as our battle was about to begin. The beautiful flowers would soon be trampled and the golden leaves of the trees blood-splattered. The lush, green grass would be torn up and dyed red.
This battle would be my last; I had already made up my mind about that. I would not allow myself to live like this and become even more of a mindless monster who followed the will of a tyrant. What I was currently doing was betrayal not only to my country, but to Lucia as well. Many a night when I could not sleep, my mind would be filled with images of her--the saddest look of disappointment across her beautiful face. I could not allow that to become a reality, however: I would not allow her to shed tears on my behalf. Never would she have to know of my death by our own army, and I could think of no better way to end my life than by her hand. For this reason, I knew I must engage her in a duel, and I knew that I must allow her to defeat me swiftly before my mind was taken over and I-- No! I would not allow myself to even think of harming her. I couldn't possibly...
"Good news, Bertram," came the king's voice from behind me. This time, I did not flinch, nor did I turn around. "I've received news that Miss Lucia has joined the princess's army, and she is on her way here now," he informed me of this news I had already acquired from one of the wounded soldiers from a previous battle. Already, this man from our army had told me that before he had been taken off the field, a young woman with flowing azure hair had joined the forces at the bridge. Accompanying her were a band of Crimean Knights and a ridiculously dressed man with odd speech. Lucia and Bastian were safe, and they were on their way here to battle me.
Receiving no reply from me, Ashnard continued, "I may have the privilege of speaking with her, you know. Is there anything you wish for me to tell her?"
"Sssssssssend her...my love," I managed, my shoulder twitching slightly, an effect of Izuka's feral drug.
The king scoffed, "You really are a fool, aren't you? The only thing I will send that woman is a blade through the chest." He smirked at the glare I sent him before turning away and pulling a pouch out of his pocket. "Oh, and don't even think of trying to save her today. If you do not kill her, I will."
My eyes narrowed at the figure before me. How one man could be so ruthless I will never know. My grip on the lance he had given me tightened. With one swift movement, I thrust my weapon in his direction, wanting nothing more than to end this madness right then and there. The attempt was unsuccessful, however, and my lance caught only air--the man had sprinkled warp dust a mere second before and was well out of harm's way before the attack was completed.
I tightened my fists and glared at my soldiers. "Get to work," I hissed. "We have a long battle ahead of us." I turned to walk back into the fortress, but suddenly yelled over my shoulder, "When the army arrives, go after everyone but the blue-haired girl, the princess's aide, Lucia. She is mine to duel."
--
My eyes caught sight of her as soon as the army set foot into our territory. That fool Ike had placed her on the front lines, well away from the princess she had sworn to protect. From my spot before the fortress, I watched as the battle began. The army's leader pulled out his trusted silver sword and sliced one of my comrades in half. I shook my head, wondering what could possibly cause a soldier to get so distracted in the middle of battle that he took no notice of an oncoming enemy.
The battle continued much like this: my soldiers fell, while the other army received small scratches. Man after man was defeated, and their screams echoed throughout the land. These cries for help, however, went unnoticed by me, as my eyes and ears cared only for her. With swift strokes of her blade, Lucia slashed down any opponent she could get near enough to. She went through much of the battle untouched by our filthy steel. I cursed under my breath as a foolish halberdier dared to oppose her, landing a scratch on her fair arm. Restraint on my part was necessary to keep me from throwing my lance at my own soldier. This action was not needed, however, as her brother swiftly rushed in and speared the man. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the man's body sliding off the edge of the lance, the corpse hitting the ground with a loud thud.
It was then that I noticed the exchange between siblings that sent the woman in my direction. With a slight motion of his arm, Geoffrey directed his older sister to where I stood. I held my breath as she approached, knowing in my heart that the time had come. Her white robes swayed lightly in the breeze, and as she neared, I saw her close her eyes and take a deep breath.
She stood a mere three feet away from me when she spoke with such daring boldness that I was shocked. She sighed heavily, "General Bertram, you are hereby ordered by the army of Crimea to drop your weapons and surrender, lest I be forced to kill you."
"You are mad, woman," I scoffed, still shading my identity. I could not stand the thought of what Ashnard would do to her if I joined the ranks of my sweet Crimea once again. "I do commend your bravery, however. Let's just hope you can back it up with your sword fighting," I added.
"I see. You leave me no choice. General Bertram of Daein, prepare your weapon, for today you die in the name of glorious Crimea."
Her blade was drawn and pointed towards me the second after she said this. I reluctantly mirrored her motion with my lance, wanting this to be over as soon as possible. The first move was hers, and she dashed towards me with such speed that I was barely able to block her sword. She spun around and easily evaded the thrust of my lance that followed. Another strike on her part, and yet another block from me. I spun my lance around and struck at her with its blunt end. This took her by surprise and she was not able to avoid it in time. Her shoulder was struck, and quite hard I might add, as I expected her to dodge the blow.
I hated myself for the bruise that would cause, and decided that I mustn't fool around any longer; her thoughts must have been similar. She quickly brushed the attack off, and, with a swift slice of her blade, set my lance spiraling towards the ground. I gulped and closed my eyes.
An instant later, I felt the cold metal of her blade penetrate my chest, and it was then that I realized the poor quality of the armor Ashnard had provided me with. Warm liquid surged through the wound, flowing onto her blade and down my body. I felt as she pulled the sword from my chest, and I began falling backward. I hit the ground hard, the impact of the fall sending my helmet flying to the side.
I winced at her gasp of realization. Within a few seconds of my face being revealed, she fell to the ground by my side, grasping my face in her hands. "Oh, Lord Renning," she sobbed, "I never meant to..."
"L-Lucia," I muttered, using the little bit of my strength that was left to clasp her left hand in my right, "do not worry...about me. You...did what you needed...to."
"Duke Renning, I-I'm so sorry. I hadn't known. Oh, I hadn't known!" she cried out, resting her head upon my shoulder. Both of our hands were placed upon the wound she had given me, as if we both felt that it could be taken away by the mere touch. It was at that moment when I was resting there, wanting nothing more than to remain there with her and forget this insane war, that I sensed the presence of her brother.
"Geoffrey," I called out to him, "you must get Lucia away from here. Ashnard could return at any moment, and he has already expressed interest in capturing her if I fell." I added, "You would also do well to get her arm taken care of."
It is my understanding that Lucia expected her brother to protest to this order, which I clearly knew he would not. He would not put his sister in harm's way, even for me. That was one of his admirable traits, his sense of loyalty to her, that I relied on when I made this demand.
He quickly replied, "Of course, Milord."
"Geoffrey!" Lucia screamed, glaring at her brother before turning her attention back to me. "Milord, we will not just leave you here," she stated defiantly.
"But that is what you must do, my venusta," I whispered to her. "That is the only way for you to survive."
"If that is the case, then I do not wish to survive," she mumbled, kissing my cheek. "I will stay here with you and--"
"I will not allow it," I said sternly. "I will not just sit here and allow Ashnard to capture you."
"Then," she said softly, "allow me to die by your side." She gestured toward the sword she had dropped nearly a foot away. Before she could even begin to reach for it, I grabbed her other hand.
"Lucia, you mustn't even suggest such a thing," I scolded, pulling her closer to me. "You are far too precious," I muttered in a voice barely above a whisper.
"And still, to simply allow you to die makes me a traitor to Crimea."
I shook my head slowly at this notion. "You are not a traitor." Using her as a support, I carefully lifted myself off the ground and into a sitting position. Glancing to my right, I spotted a pale yellow day lily, the lady's favorite flower, perfect and untouched by this bloodshed; I reached out and plucked it. Carefully, I placed the flower in her hair and kissed her forehead. "Lucia, please, I beg of you...do not allow yourself to be killed. Elincia...needs you. Please, go to her. Retreat from here. Do everything you can to ensure that Crimea's future is bright."
"Milord, you ask a lot of me," she mumbled sadly, "but the least I can do is try to fulfill your wishes."
I managed a weak smile. "That's my girl, Lucy."
Geoffrey knelt down beside us and gently helped me back onto the ground. "I'm sorry this couldn't have happened differently, Milord," he whispered in my ear so that Lucia could not hear the words. "My first priority is my sister, and you know that. I couldn't live with myself if I allowed Ashnard to lay a hand on her."
"Yes, I know, and I thank you for that," I replied, also keeping my voice from reaching the lady's ears.
The knight then helped his sister to her feet, using his thumb to gently wipe the tears from her cheeks. With an arm around her, the man nodded to me and slowly began to lead her away.
"Lucia," I called after her, causing them both to turn on their heels, "don't let me down."
She managed a smile. "I won't."
I watched her figure as they turned and walked back towards the rest of the army. My eyes remained on her until she was lost in the crowd of her comrades, all of whom had been too fear-stricken to approach us formerly. As my eyes snapped shut, my last thoughts were of her tear-streaked face and watery eyes. I knew that by dying here, I had let her down. I knew the guilt that rested on her shoulders by killing me. Because of me, her life was no longer as joyous as before, but at least she had one.
--
A/N: Ah, over 6,000 words of pure Lucia/Renning nonsense. It's well overdue too--I haven't written a piece for them in roughly 2 ½ months. Anyway, to clarify some of the Latin terms used in this piece (which I happened to use as ancient tongue...I hope I mentioned that somewhere)...
Copia: power
Daemon: demon
Proditor: traitor, betrayer
Diabolus: devil
Venusta: lovely
I think that was it...Also, the day lily was suggested by my mother...I'm so awful with flowers. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this, and I'm off to work on my Latin coursework.