Haura stood there, trying to calm her rising temper. This slight insult to her pride was nothing new, but Haura found her patience wearing thin. She had come under quite a number of attacks since her entrance into the Ylissean court, from petty things like rumors of Chrom's infidelity to outright slander that she was a filthy backstabbing bitch who spread her legs for Gangrel to ensure Emmeryn's death and turned around to seduce Chrom into killing her former employer.

A month ago, she had laughed them off. Two weeks ago, she had cried herself to sleep. Four days ago, using only a steak knife and her bare hands, she had nearly killed one of the old hierarchs who tried to proposition her. That had ended any hope of Haura and the clergy getting along. Haura was fed up enough to not care and that night she had slept in the barracks for the first time since Chrom gave her apartments in the city. It made her feel safe, to hear Lon'qu and Libra conversing softly when they could not fall asleep, Sully's droning snores, and Miriel's soft sighs as she worked by candlelight.

Chrom, when he heard, had been completely irate and it took Haura, Frederick, and Sumia, who was heavily pregnant, alternating between yelling, coaxing, and demanding him to stay put and stop himself from going on warpath. If Chrom lost the backing of the clergy, it did not matter how much the people loved him- an excommunication would ruin the fledgling legitimacy of his reign. Luckily, Haura thought, his mind quickly became occupied with the arrival of his child. Haura did not mention it again and everyone around her, out of pity or respect, she did not know, pretended to forget.

What kept her going was Nowi and Gaius waking her up in the middle of the night two days ago with buckets of paint and smuggled powder from a port down south. Maribelle complained loudly to Haura and Lissa the next day about the incompetence of the policing soldiers. No one knew who painted the temple and hierarch's residence in sticky neon paint and spiked the well so that the brothers sneezed throughout all their sermons the next couple days.

"Someone said they saw Naga herself as a dragon descend on the temple, but pah, I say those incompetent guards should not be allowed even a drop of liquor upon their duty. How disgraceful."

Frederick, who noticed everything at all times, confronted them about it the next day and lectured them until Gaius was falling asleep on his feet and Nowi could steal the candy from his pockets. Haura had been the only one that felt chastised, especially when Frederick said thinking they were above the law was exactly what earned her such a deplorable reputation to begin with. Haura knew Frederick said so out of love for Chrom (and perhaps even a little bit of concern for Haura herself) but it had stung. They had not spoken to each other since aside from cordial greetings and earlier, when Frederick had stood in the room with them, the feedback loop of nervousness between Frederick and Chrom made Haura send Frederick out for everyone's nerves.

"Karmic backlash, huh?" she muttered. The empty room had become stifling without Chrom and Haura quickly picked up her fallen book, a treatise on utilitarian politics, to leave. She tucked her hair away, pulled her hood up, and shrugged her robe into place. The coat was lumpy and worn, out of place in the cool linens and silks of the palace, but Haura liked how it safely wrapped up her body into a sleek profile, shielded against the world's stares.

Sometimes Haura wondered if being born into war made her an ill-suited adviser for peace. Emmeryn had been a one-woman beacon and Haura had no idea how she did it. The late Exalt managed to keep to her beliefs and execute them with such clarity and understanding of the people around her and in the future. Haura saw the world in value judgments within immediate contexts, how to plan and coordinate movement to advance the furthest against an enemy and how to react and adapt to threats.

Haura paused on the steps leading out of the castle to stare at the tapestries of victorious military campaigns. Most were old and faded from their place in the sunlight, but the newest in the line, featuring Chrom woven in rich blue threads and popping of lines and lines of grey soldiers, stubbornly resisted the sun's glare. No one else, not even Emmeryn or Lissa, had made their way onto the reams and reams of dyed thread. This Chrom, dark eyes staring unflinchingly into Gangrel's grotesque face as the Falchion pierced his body, was the war hero, the commander of armies. He was the one lauded by the people, for bringing peace, but more so, Haura realized, for winning the war. For killing the Plegian king and bringing justice.

Her fingers traced over the portraits of the Plegian soldiers, them dying upon the weapons of the gleaming Ylissean cavalries (not that was true at all, the majority of the heavy lifting in the final battle was done by the mages, foot soldiers, and pegasus knights, with the horses shuddering and struggling to move across the desert). Many of the Plegian faces had bulging eyes, wide lips, and bulbous noses, caricatures meant to enhance the grim triumph in the oncoming soldiers of Naga. There was no image of Tharja, who took the chance to escape from her homeland's tyrant against all odds, of the Feroxi that laid down hundreds of soldiers to rout the bulk of the Plegian army with the strength of their arms, of Cordelia and Sumia, fighting like white wraiths amid the blinding sands, avenging their sisters. No Panne, protecting the honor of the taguel for a debt of justice she never benefited from. Not even Frederick, the epitome of the knightly ideal and Chrom's best man.

This is what surprised her, not her own absence, for she had not been on the battlefield personally, but that even the victory the crowds trumpeted for months afterwards was so bland and trite. Perhaps the erasure of the Shepards was why they had trouble with maintaining their militia independently from the army. It did not matter how many times they pointed out these measures were required for Ylisse to be defensively viable both internally and externally. Others simply viewed it as an ongoing commitment to war. Haura had learned from watching Chrom that challenging the more belligerent nobles merely got him smothered by a flurry of passive aggressive comments. And yet here he was in this portrait, as dashing as the hero-king of yore, unhampered and unsupported by anything but his own regal might.

Haura turned away from the tapestry. It was just some foolish weaver guild's opinion. Her shoulder began to ache again as she tried to loosen her fingers around her tome.

As she walked out of the castle, she had spotted Frederick crouched among the wilting garden, picking up pieces of rubble. Haura briefly debated trying to slink past him, remembering their confrontation a couple hours ago, but Frederick heard the doors creak and looked up.

"Haura! Is the baby-?" Frederick leapt up but fell silent immediately when Haura shook her head.

"Not yet. I'm sure they'll call you up to announce the news to the realm when it does finally pop out." Haura said with a sigh. At least he did not seem upset with Haura herself. Frederick took everything in stride which, if Haura was truthful with herself, made her feel worse. "Did you know that childbirth took this long? I certainly didn't."

"The average time from when a woman begins her contractions to childbirth is-" Frederick recited and Haura pretended to clap her hands over her ears. She could see the nervousness radiated off him, from the way his mouth curled down a little more than usual to his shoulders clenching at his parade rest stance.

"I should have known you did all the research, Frederick the Wary. ...is this all you've been doing for the past hours? Why don't you walk with me a bit?"

"And where are we walking? I will not leave the castle grounds- the birthing room is ill-defended and this mess is abominable. If you need to stretch your legs, it would be good for your training regimen to jog around the walls of Ylisstol once every morning. I noticed your stamina has been lacking as of late. A woman that exercises frequently is in less danger of getting hurt during childbirth-" Frederick said.

"We can pace circles in this courtyard for all I care. I just want to work off some of the nerves Chrom lovingly passed onto me." Haura cut in, determined not to let him get started. Standing out here had not improved Frederick's anxiety. "And stewing here picking up pebbles is only going to worsen your mood."

"Not at all. When we were on march, I regularly picked up all the pebbles around camp to prevent anyone from tripping. It is even more vital now that Milady has a child. We wouldn't want anyone falling with a baby in hand, would we? I am fulfilling my duty as Milord's knight." Frederick explained and before Haura could stop him, he crouched down again, in full armor.

"You look like a bizarre metallic chicken scratching for bugs in the dirt." Haura mumbled. She kicked a pebble and watched it clatter amid the pile of broken rubble she now could see was left over from Chrom's training that morning. "Well, I'm not going to stand here and watch you do this until the baby comes. I have a proposal to write so that people can not read it, forcing me to explain it several times during the evening, before the council decides by committee they don't like it and tell me to rewrite it."

"Who am I to stand in the way of someone's unappreciated productivity? But if you are done for the day, I will go keep Milord company. Unless you advise him otherwise, lady tactician?" Frederick said, standing up. In the brief moments she had spent talking, he had already moved all the large pieces of rubble into a pile next to a low wall. He was a constant reminder that Haura could work a little harder and worry a little less about recognition and it irked her to no end.

And he knew how to push all her buttons. Haura almost got mad until she reminded herself that he had every right to be irritated with her. With a defeated sigh, she crouched down as well and replied, "I'll save you the trip. He's by Sumia's side. I was lovingly evicted by the midwife. I probably deserve it, but even you won't be let in, unmarried and handsome as you are. Heavens knows what they'll do to you if you burst in and take over the midwives' duty in full armor." But Frederick was not Chrom and her awkward attempts to make him laugh just left her scratching at the dirt with a stick in silence.

"Preposterous." Frederick's voice startled Haura to attention. "I would not assume just because I read several volumes on the matter that I could deliver a child. That is rather terrifying, even for someone who has faced death multiple times." Frederick said with the tiniest tinge of dry humor in his voice. Haura choked back her own laughter. Idly, she tried to sketch out Frederick's face, the aquiline nose and the stern eyes. But she was no Libra and it looked more like a caricature of a bear than anything.

With another long sigh, she decided to stop putting off being a mature adult.

"I'm sorry I was so short with you earlier and kicking you out. I was probably still nursing a grudge from the lecture, but that is little excuse. You've known Chrom for far longer than I and I-" Haura said but Frederick stood up.

"While I was standing here, I received the news from that the hierarch that assaulted you will be penalized and demoted. I had begun arrangements for guards in front of your apartments. We can also give you an escort at the dinner parties and other public events now. I believe Lissa drew up a list of good suitors-"

"What? Frederick, wait-" Haura cut off Frederick before he would inevitably give a very thorough and detail laden list of each young man and their various attributes. Besides, there were only two people she would be interested in having escort her and neither were viable options. One of them would never last an evening around the noble ladies and the other was far more interested in their lord and his wife than Haura. And that would make Frederick miserable as well, who Haura knew fancied her the same way Haura did. No, they would be miserable.

"I won't have someone else be dragged through the mud with me. Any active attempt for me to fix my reputation is just going to backfire- I can feel it in my gut. But Frederick, thank you." And she meant it. And she meant it from the bottom of the heart. She should have known, however, that mere emotional closure on their fight would not stop Frederick from pursuing all the solutions.

"Stop trying to slither away. You look uneasy and you're trying too hard to leave, even though under normal conditions you would never think of leaving Milord's side. Even if you could not provide tactical support-" Haura couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped, "you are a woman and there is no reason to not allow you in. What is ailing you, Haura?"

His invocation of her name had to be deliberate and Haura winced. That had been what opened the floodgates, simple academic curiosity twisted into something perverse. And all it had taken was one overheard conversation before the town burned with the new gossip.

Haura: the feminine derivative of the demon Haures. A Plegian idol worshipped in the southern tip, a general of the fabled Deadlords. Knowledgable in all chronology, from past to present to the unknown future, but he would speak nothing but lies. One of the twenty-five pages of the legendary grimoire, Goetia, was named after this grand duke of hell. The name, coughed up from the mire and sands of Plegia and carried in its legacy a covenant of great potential, meant what Haura had long suspected from the material of her clothes to the complexion of her face.

Plegian.

It all came rushing back to her at once. The madness of the last four days of Sumia's pregnancy faded away and her forced distractions slipped past her fingers one by one. Even in the daylight she could feel that cold, clawed hand on her skin and her entire body shuddered.

When she found her voice again, it was hoarse. "I think you know- hell, you knew from the start! Your suspicions were right all along, Frederick the Wary. Too bad everyone thinks I seduced Chrom into trusting me anyway. Though, better to be a common whore than a Plegian one, they say. They will pay the common whores before they touch." The last sentence came out more bitter than Haura intended and even she was taken aback by the venom in her voice.

"Still, you did well, with your left arm. You managed to cut through the fabric but not puncture the skin. Such finesse is what you've been working towards." Frederick said after a lengthy moment of silence and Haura was thrown from her serious thoughts and serious expression.

"Was that a compliment? Or a joke? I expected you to say something like, 'Haura, stop making enemies that will endanger Milord' or 'Your disrespect of the clergy only brings more suspicion to your reputation.'" Haura said, trying to mimic his upright posture and manner of speaking.

"I'll thank you not to try and imitate my manner of speaking." Frederick began in that slow, deliberate way of his that normally made everyone feel at ease and taken care of. He was gentle in that methodical way of his and Haura could now see why Lissa ran to Frederick instead of Chrom when she cried. "I am not a politician or a duke. But as a knight, I would say in this situation, defending yourself and your honor was the least you could do. The dastard was asking for it. You stand here telling me you cannot do this or that would only make the situation worse, but you made a choice that night. That you would stand by your ideals, that respect is earned through wisdom, strength, and decency. That you are your own woman even as you are the Shepards' tactician. Do not turn and be a coward, rendered weak by the taunts of those afraid of you."

Haura was rendered utterly silent as she turned over his words in her mind. As her teacher, Frederick had seen that expression on her face many, many times, when she was scrutinizing a move he just used to disarm or when she was bent over the maps of a upcoming battle. And as a caretaker, he had seen on Chrom and Lissa's face alike. The insecurity of youth furrowed the brow and pulled the lips thin. Haura was no different, even if they were similar in age.

"Just speak your mind. How long have you been holding this inside? It is little wonder you have become more sluggish and distracted in your training as of late, if you have been burdening yourself like so. I am your teacher and you are a diligent student. Let me advise you." Frederick urged, the last push. Haura turned to face him, her face smoothing out to its normal, unflappable expression.

"The threatening letters started right after Chrom's engagement. The razors in the letters didn't start until they announced Sumia's pregnancy. I don't know if you've seen the gossip rags or the prostitutes that get 'lost' in front of my house. There's a reason why I work so close to Chrom now, because in the beginning when I was alone in the drawing rooms, people would sometimes 'forget' to call me to war councils. I've told some of the Shepards, Gaius, Sully, Libra, Tharja, bits and pieces of it, but you're the first to hear the real extent because I trust you will not go and curse the entire nobility up to their eyeballs."

"I realized I don't want to be seen as a woman anymore. I was always just the tactician on the road, a person in a purple coat with a quick brain. If I was a woman on the road, it was not lauded praise, but at least none of the Shepards looked down on me for being one. Hell, I was so surprised when Lon'qu shook in his boots because I was, to him, too much of a woman before I was a comrade. But in Ylisstol, out of the battlefield, suddenly I'm the Plegian bitch even though the only time I've ever set foot on Plegian earth was to murder their soldiers. I can't explain it, but, I can feel their eyes, in the way they treat me. Try as I might, the feeling of that bastard's hand on my thigh keeps making me feel sick and ties up my tongue. I knew I could have killed him but I'm still scared, Frederick..." she finished, watching Frederick's face carefully.

Years of training as a knight had enabled Frederick to appear stoic even as the shock and outrage of what had been happening behind his back settled in. Slowly, tasting each word that came out of his mouth to make sure they were palatable, he said, "You haven't told Milord any of this, have you?"

Haura shook her head. "I didn't need to tell him the grisly details for him to know what's been going on. It's also why he's been the one presenting our ideas. But it is a poor long term arrangement because we don't agree on everything and some ideas I have, like a Plegian restoration of their monarchy or sending emissaries to show support for one of the candidates for king, he is incapable of pitching and finding the right people to do it properly. And if I try to propose that, someone is bound to accuse me of treason at this rate."

"You realize this cannot go on." And Haura wanted to laugh because that was Frederick, finding neat solutions with clean, efficient methods in a messy world. "Changing the hearts of the Ylissean people takes time and too much suffering for anyone less than a saint. It took Lady Emmeryn over a decade to win back the hearts of the people. You need only to turn away their hate- they already fear you and while fear is less desirable than love, as Milord's adviser, you do not need the love of the Ylissean houses. We will hire new secretaries for you. I think Maribelle or Lissa may be able to help with improving your reputation. And I will insist on you having an escort. I understand you are able to defend yourself quite handily but a lone woman with enough skill to kill with cutlery makes the old nobility only more nervous in your presence. Someone like Stahl or myself will make you appear less threatening by comparison-"

"Hold, hold, Fredericson! I didn't tell you all this so you can run yourself ragged on top of your new babysitting duties to accommodate a few weak scare tactics from my political enemies." Haura said. Her brow creased and the ends of her lips curled downward, as if she was preparing for a fight.

"Your new nickname for me still leaves much to be desired. I will not sit still while the House Ylisse is slandered and Milord and you are accused senselessly for being nothing but a force to be reckoned with. I could do nothing when I was still a squire and Lady Emmeryn was attacked." Frederick said as if he had not been interrupted.

Haura blinked rapidly several times before shaking her head. "You honor me too much, Fredericson. This is nothing compared to what she had gone through. And I am nothing compared to her." she said softly, as everyone did when they spoke Emmeryn's name nowadays.

"You are being attacked in a battle where your hands are tied for doing nothing but trying to aid Milord. Your only fault was not coming to me sooner about this. The Shepards will protect our own, Haura. And while I won't deny that I will always have my suspicions, you are a Shepard. I will not let you try to shoulder both your own and Milord's burdens by yourself." Frederick said in his matter-of-fact teaching voice and Haura felt her own heart swell with gratitude.

"Frederick…" she said, her voice wavering on the edge of tears. He always went above and beyond expectations.

Before she could say anything else, the door to the garden banged open with a crack and Lissa was there, eyes wide, the front of her dress covered in blood, but with an enormous smile across her face and Haura and Frederick were running up the stairs as the heralds trumpeted and a young woman dressed all in blue looked to the castle where she was born.


Notes:

This chapter was very heavy and difficult, both to write and to experience. But that is how it is Frederick, direct, no-nonsense, and ready with a solution. Not the normal waiting-with-cigars scene, huh?