Chapter 2: Family Fun

Lilith and the rest of the serving staff had the feast ready by the time he arrived in the dining hall. Surf and turf prepared with beef and lobster, veggie chowder and tangy coleslaw to accent it. There was even a bottle of mead prepared. Which he didn't accept in lieu of a spot of excellently brewed dragonwell tea. The full, nutty and buttery drink finishing the meal off excellently.

It was a wonderful meal (and gesture) to start the day with, if heavy. (Though it was a shame no one else ate when he offered to share.) Lilith had certainly outdone herself. And taken it even further, with an inspired idea to preserve the leftovers just in case the chefs at Windmire weren't capable of preparing food to his tastes.

He thanked her deeply for everything. As well as Flora, who froze the meals.

Then he helped express this by helping load the preserved food unto one of the carriages in the fort's inner stables (over their objections, but he was still lord of his prison). It might be the last time he saw the horses of Northfort, and they were as much his companions as anyone else inside the walls.

With morning meal and its leftovers settled, Corrin set out towards the fort's gate to greet his brothers and sisters as soon as possible. Even the typical Nohr chill wouldn't dissuade him!

He kept his eyes sharp for any sign of their arrival. He wanted to go wait in the outer gatehouse, but he also didn't want there to be any excuse for him to be restrained in Northfort a moment longer than he had to. So, only a few steps out on the great stone bridge spanning the Northfort pit, he waited.

And waited.

And grew cold.

And grew worried.

Northfort was close enough to Windmire that he could see the outer walls of the capital from his room in the fort's tower on a clear day (as clear as Nohr got, anyway).

But, despite that, they weren't here. Had Father reconsidered and recalled them? Had something waylaid them and they needed help? He knew his family could handle themselves in a fight, but that didn't mean he didn't worry for their safety regardless.

He started pacing about between the gates. The ironwrought braziers' flames wafting in the cold wind. Cord and Bord, the guards, were clearly getting cross at the situation, but dared not raise a word of protest.

"Perhaps you've had enough cold for the moment, Your Highness," Gunter broke the silence.

"No, no, I'm quite all right," Corrin replied. "If any of you feel the need to warm yourselves by a fire, go right ahead."

Bord and Cord ran inside faster than a speeding horse.

"I'd be remiss to leave you alone, Your Highness."

"The cold doesn't bother me, my lord!" Felicia boasted.

"Nor me, milord," Flora added.

That's the Isslid for you. "Jakob, Lilith?"

"It'd take more than a little cold to keep me away from your side, Lord Corrin," Jakob declared.

"M-me too!" Lilith finished. Though it had to be hard on her. She just wasn't as heavily dressed as them, with only a blue one-piece dress and frilly white apron. She had her headdress and boots, but her hands were bare and already shivering just a tad. But the amber in her eyes told him she wouldn't leave even as ordered, so he let his other blue-haired retainer stay.

He was blessed to have such loyal retainers—friends. Life in Northfort had been tolerable because of them. His home; his prison. Even as he detested the place, it was the only home he ever knew and loved it all the same. Every brick, every door and metal fitting was already engraved in his mind. He'd walked these halls in the darkest nights of Nohr without missing a step.

This place would always be a part of him, for good or ill.

Freedom was just. so. close. The whole of Nohr was just on the other side of the pit. Windmire was always visible from his room. But the windows barred with iron. The pit — so deep he could spend a day scaling down. He couldn't escape through the bridge no matter how he tried to persuade them. But soon. Soon, there wouldn't be familiar stonework. Soon he would have windows with only glass and frame. Soon, he could meet new people.

Much as he liked all fifty-seven people working in Northfort, he'd grown as familiar with them as he did the building they lived in. All their quirks and talents and skills. Julian talking sweet with Rena, the wyvern sisters, Alan and Samson's rivalry. He'd miss'em all. Though, his siblings' retainers sounded like a fun bunch to meet. Every time his family dropped by they had some new entertaining story about the antics of their followers. They were as fond of their friends as Corrin was of his.

"Your Highness," Gunter interrupted, "perhaps we could continue this vigil from one of the turrets?" repeating himself. "We could assuredly make it down to ground floor before your royal siblings traverse the bridge."

"I'm fine, Gunter." Corrin curled his toes. Maybe boots weren't such a terrible idea after all... "I'll have to deal with worse weather than this one day, won't I?"

"A sad fact of Nohr."

Why did their ancestors even settle in this land? Corrin looked back at the bridge. Nothing.

Footfalls reached his ears but he was too engrossed to turn his eyes on whomever it was. If they wanted his attention they'd speak.

Arms slipped under his own and pulled him back into a soft embrace. "Aw, it seems you missed your big sister." Camilla's hands went upwards and pinched at his cheeks. "You're sooooo cute!" her voice serene as a Northfort night.

"A little warning next time, Gunter." Corrin slurred out while his older sister played with his cheeks.

"Her Highness's arrival was a surprise to us all," his retainer answered.

See if I offer you breakfast again, he grumbled in his thoughts. Camilla dropped her grip on his suddenly-sore cheeks and pulled her arms out — only to spin him around face-to-cleavage. The hugs he appreciated. This… this less so.

"Look at you," she said and started to grope his arms. "You've become such a fine young man."

"You saw me last week, Camilla." He looked up into her purple eye (the other obscured by long strands of her lavender hair).

"A week without you isn't much of one," she feigned pouting.

She was gesturing for a compliment. "You are as lovely as ever, Camilla." She also hadn't changed much in a week.

"Thank you, Corrin." She gave him a small smile. "Though I would appreciate it if you praised my fighting once in awhile."

"I will once I see you outside a spar. Promise." Camillia fought more fiercely than her wyvern, and Hildr was ornery on a good day. Which was doubly impressive with her outrageous outfit. While she kept her arms and legs armored in black Nohrian plate, her thighs and stomach were completely exposed and which made her lower smallclothes stick out. It was… distracting. Which may well be the point.

"That should come soon enough."

The fire eroded away by Nohr's chill ignited again! "I can… finally help." He'd sat her useless in Northfort while his siblings put themselves in danger on the frontlines. He could finally protect them.

"Father shouldn't have isolated you for so long in the first place."

"I'm sure he had a good reason," he lied. "I'm just glad to finally get a chance to see Nohr."

Camilla pulled out a map of Nohr loaded with black circles. "There are so many places I've always wanted to visit with you."

Where did she even pull that from? Corrin shook his head at the answer he didn't want to hear and looked at the map more closely. There were so many black circles Camilla might have well circled all of Nohr and saved the ink. "Where don't you want to take me?"

"I'm gonna show you the world!"

She was really making up for lost time and—a realization hit Corrin. Camilla had come up from behind him. "How did even you get in here?"

"Oh," she acted like the very question was the greatest surprise in her life, "why, I knew you'd be waiting for us, darling, so, I just flew over the pit to get to you before Elise did."

Oh, of course. So, anyone could have warned him as well. Were they getting him back for worrying them this morning? "How far behind is everyone else?"

"Hm? they're already riding over the bridge."

Corrin spun around fast enough to hurt his head. There they were, just coming through the outer gatehouse. Elise on her pony was already well out in front, and leaving Xander and Leon well behind.

Camilla wrapped her arms around him again. "Awww, I think she's jealous of our special bond."

Elise sped up.

"H-hey, you have to share me today."

"Do I have to?" She could be more childish than Elise sometimes.

"Well, unless you want Elise to run us over…" he let her own imagination take over at that point. Not that he believed their little sister would do that.

"Oh, very well," her disappointment bordering on a pout as she slowly pushed away.

Elise didn't slow down.

What's she doing?

Elise swung her leg over and sat side-saddled.

She couldn't possibly be — Elise leapt off before he could even finish thinking she couldn't possibly be thinking of doing that.

She came flying in arms and smile first and Corrin had to pivot and grab her in a spin to make sure she didn't hurt herself.

"Hi, Corrin!" she said as she span around. "Yay, you caught me!"

"Elise, that was dangerous!" he warned her as he slowed down and let her feet touch the floor.

"I knew you'd catch me." She pushed forward and fully embraced him.

Well, yeah. "Of course, but you could have hit my armor." He knocked on his chest plate above her head for emphasis.

"Oh, I didn't think about that." She paused to consider her mistake. "But it didn't happen, so don't worry about it." And blew right past it.

Corrin shook his head at Elise's irresponsible act. "And what about Eir? Did you think about her?" Thankfully, Elise's brown pony had stopped of her own volition before she ran over anyone.

"Eir's a good girl, she wouldn't do anything bad." Elise redoubled her hugging. "And I have to make up for Camilla getting hugs in first."

"It's not a competition, Elise," Camilla blatantly lied. He'd spotted those "hug charts" of hers.

"Ohhhh?" Elise slid into a mischievous smirk and started hugging him even more. "Then you're not jealous?"

"Not in the least," Camilla was pouting now.

Time to stop this. "Hey, don't worry, plenty of time for hugs in the future. Let's save some for later."

Xander and Leo rode up to cut the conversation short. The family was all here! Save for Father.

"Elise, that was exceptionally dangerous," Xander rebuked her.

"When are you going to learn to act your age, Elise?" Leo needled her. "You're a young lady now, such acts are unbecoming of Nohr's royal family."

"So's having your collar inside-out."

"What?" Leo's brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?" He started groping around his back.

He was close enough for Corrin to confirm it. The large pop-out collar was showing black inside, purple out. Just as Elise said. Corrin shot his brother a sympathetic glance. Been there, Brother. But everything else seemed to be in order. His black plate with gold trim were still spotless and not a hair on his blonde head was out of place beneath his band. Though his brown eyes were in an awful fright from embarrassment.

"My collar is not the point here," he said, after settling down.

"Corrin already told me it was dangerous and stuff, I won't do it again."

"I'd prefer if you didn't require such a lecture in the first place," said Xander. "But it's good you listen to at least one of us."

"Oh, I listen plenty," Elise grinned.

"Perhaps I should clarify that as understanding." Xander narrowed his eyes at their little sister's rebellious air. "But let's not ruin the mood. It is good to see you again, Corrin."

"You too, Brother. All of you." He gave eye contact with each of them to double up on that.

"That goes for me as well," Leo added on.

Corrin shot straight to the heart of the matter. "I can finally leave Northfort?"

Gunter, Camillia. He just wanted to hear it, again and again until he couldn't see these walls anymore.

"We're here to escort you to Windmire ourselves. Not even the Dawn Dragon could stop us from being a family again."

He could feel the tears coming on. Such behavior was improper in front of his retainers and he didn't care. He'd been indecent in front of his maids this morning and this was far less embarrassing. "What of my retainers?" Corrin swallowed to get himself under control. But an unquenchable anxiety still held him.

"You're to bring your full entourage with you to Windmire. The Guard Captain will remain on duty as is."

He stopped himself for cheering out loud at the notion. It didn't stop his retainers from making their own cheers and relieved sighs, however. He wasn't gonna have to leave anyone behind. Well, Captain Ogma and his men, but his best friends were coming.

"Thank you, Lord Brother." It couldn't have been easy convincing Father to grant him such a boon.

"Oh?" Xander smiled gently at the title. "You mind your manners well, Corrin. Good. Those formalities will serve you well in Windmire." Xander took his eyes off him and onto his retainers. "I extend my personal thanks to the lot of you for standing by my brother's side during his stay at Northfort. I request wholeheartedly you continue to show him such devotion beyond these walls."

Gunter clasped his mailed fist to his chest. "The honor is mine, Your Royal Highness. I'll serve His Highness Prince Corrin for whatever years I have remaining."

Jakob bowed. "An army couldn't keep me from fulfilling my debt to my lord. You've nothing to worry about from me, Your Royal Highness."

"I-I'll keep doing my best!" Felicia curtsied.

"It has been a pleasure serving His Highness." Flora curtsied as well. "I will continue to do so to the best of my abilities."

"Um, m-me too!" LIlith added on a curtsy of her own.

Xander acknowledged their responses with a single nod. "You are blessed to have such loyal retainers, Corrin."

Yeah, he was. "They're exceptional."

"Now," Xander's face lost its levity to a sour thought, "there's one other matter we must clear before we depart for Windmire."

"Oh Xander," said Camilla, "can't you just say her passed and save us the time?"

This is another sparring session isn't it?

Xander shook his head at her question. "Corrin's relationship with His Majesty should not be founded on a lie. If we send him out unprepared, we'd wish we kept him in Northfort."

"I think you're underestimating me, Lord Brother."

"Then prove it." Xander withdrew a sheathed bronze sword from one of Bertholdt's saddlebags. "Prove what Gunter's taught you has merit!"

I could do with a work-out after that meal. "Don't be sore if I win." He stepped forward to take the offered blade. Light, long and broad. He inspected the blade, found no flaws in the green finish. Newly forged, was it?

"Don't mistake arrogance for confidence," Xander retorted, drawing a matching blade. "Or have our past bouts slipped your mind?"

Not a single one. Corrin grinned. He steadied his breathing. One. Two. He dropped into his combat stance: free left hand forward and crooked across his chest, weapon in the right back.

"An adequate stance, if you bore a shield," Xander pointed out. "I shall not move from this spot. Come, the first move is yours."

Rushing in was exactly what he should be doing.

"Go, Corrin!"

"You can do it!"

"I believe in you, milord."

Amidst the cheers he kept his level head. He studied Xander. Recalling each and every spar he'd had with his elder brother over the years. Every trick he'd tried and every move Xander had taken.

The first two concerns were Siegfried and Bertholdt. But Xander had chosen to leave his signature sword undrawn in the name of fair play. The only way Corrin had a chance, with Siegfried in hand, Xander was near-invincible. And maybe outright invincible with his mount taken into account. Bertholdt was Xander's chosen steed for a reason: The black stallion could run a day in its black armor and pull off acrobatics that left Corrin baffled. Even if he didn't move, this was still an uphill (uphorse?) battle to fight.

And the man riding atop had proven himself the mount's master time and again. Xander sat with an upright confidence that he'd not take even a scratch in the match. His blade was held low, pointed at Corrin; his elbow bent, ready to thrust the moment Corrin made a move. With Siegfried, that stance was a devastatingly powerful combination of defense and offense. But even without it, Xander's defense was strong.

Getting past Xander's bladework, would be trying to sneak a slash through the thick black plates protecting his brother. Thicker than the plates the heavy armor knights wore. The only vulnerable spot was his head. But Xander knew that. Every glance he sent at his older brother was met by Xander's brown eyes. And those eyes were always directing him upwards.

His hair? Sure, Xander's blonde hair was fabulous, wavy, feathered; but not of interest. The circlet? The wavy black piece of metal was Xander's crown. That was it. That was his goal. But how to get it?

Always serious Xander. Always on guard. Always ready. As impenetrable as Northfort. But Corrin knew Xander just as well as Northfort. How serious he was. How on guard and how ready.

There was a path to victory behind it all.

He took one last deep breath before announcing, "Here I come!" He had to strike fast and sloppy. He rushed forward and Xander crooked his arm back even more.

Brothers struck.

Corrin's swing went overhead while Xander struck towards middle blade with precision. The two weapons clashed and Xander's better position left Corrin reeling.

He pivoted on his back foot and used the momentum gained by Xander's thrust to swing in from below.

Xander could not quite defend against such underhanded strike as well as before. He moved his sword aside to blunt the force of the swing and Corrin pulled back.

"Your back was wide open for that maneuver," said Xander. "If I'd struck, this would be over already."

With Siegfried, yes. The focused magic or even the sword's tip could easily pierce Corrin's armor. But a bronze blade, at that angle, at that position? No chance.

Corrin readied himself again, grasping the grip tightly in both hands before stepping forward for another overhead swing. Xander received this one even better, parrying it, opening up Corrin for a counter.

As he intended. Corrin ducked low, forced Xander to shift his arm upwards to compensate, allowing Corrin to revive his defense (as it were) and block Xander's thrust with the blade flat. Corrin twisted his grip, repelled the strike—only for another to come. Quick, but light, a test.

Corrin blocked. Again, and again. This test continued for eight strikes before Xander reared back and struck at Corrin's weakest. Right above the left of the crossguard. It was a good solid strike to Corrin's shoulder and he dipped back from the pressure. Corrin brought his sword low in response, slung across his aching shoulder.

"Your defense is not without merit but far from extraordinary."

Wouldn't be long before he was eating those words.

Corrin took a breath and shifted his stance. Readied his sword with both hands once more, gathered his might, and swung back. Xander met his blade in the middle and the two locked. Bertholdt evened out—surpassed—the advantage Corrin garnered with two hands, and Xander began to overtake him.

Corrin feigned being overpowered and stepped back, Xander took the bait and struck back. He ducked, narrowly making it under Xander's swing, and dashed between Bertholdt's legs. The stallion snorted, too well-trained to panic, and Xander too cautious to attempt anything. Corrin slipped through and slide around, facing Xander's offside. But Xander had his blade in position already and a thrust followed.

A hard hit to the chest — his breath knocked away but not his spirit. Corrin stood his ground. He grabbed the weak of his sword and pushed it upwards against Xander The conflict forced Xander's arm back once more and gave Corrin his chance.

He grabbed unto the strap holder of Bertholdt's saddle and half-pulled half-leapt upwards. His feet found purchase on the saddle's stirrup and Xander's foot. Both of them were so unbalanced Xander could not make a proper attack back. Even a sloppy thrust would have seen Xander's sword run straight through Corrin's eye. But he wouldn't do it. Xander wouldn't kill family. The precarious set-up led to Xander withdrawing his blade, for the moment.

That didn't mean Xander was without defense. His free left came down like a blacksmith's hammer on Corrin's shoulder. It hurt like hell, even through the plate, and nearly knocked him off, but Corrin bit through it and aimed upwards. His thrust was poor but more than enough against an exposed head!

If that was Corrin's intent.

Xander casually shifted himself backwards, which delayed a renewed offense with his sword. Exactly as Corrin wanted. He flicked his wrist and threw the sword away — grabbed for the crown!

Xander saw it coming — knew it was coming. He wanted Corrin to aim for the crown, did everything but order him to do it. And knowing where your weakness was meant you knew where your opponent would strike. Xander's hand lashed out like lightning and clamped Corrin's wrist like a vice. He crushed his wrist, readied the pommel to smash Corrin off and declare victory.

Strike where your opponent does not suspect.

Xander's iron grip meant one other thing. Stability. The attempt to restrict his mobility only increased it — Corrin dropped his left hand grip on the strap holder and darted for the hilt of Siegfried!

The very last thing Xander ever expected. It so surprised his brother that Corrin had half unsheathed the royal sword of Nohr before Xander even let go of his bronze sword. Too slow. Xander's response was too slow and Corrin pried the blade free completely.

Now he just had to free himself.

Xander tightened his grip in response and his other hand reached over and grabbed Corrin by his front cape. He pulled Corrin in, slammed him against Bertholdt's armor. It barely hurt but the position was terrible. He couldn't posture his feet upwards to push off. He had to think of something else.

Strike where your opponent does not suspect.

Corrin angled Siegfried up and thrust at Xander's left armpit. One couldn't armor joints. It didn't matter. Xander dropped his grip on Corrin's cape to deflect the thrust over his stomach and seize control of the grip.

That mattered.

Corrin dropped one foot from the stirrup to rise up solely on the other. He stood near eye-to-eye with his brother before setting his free foot on Bertholdt's side and pushing off. The force gave him leverage enough to stay steady as he moved his second foot up — push off with both.

Xander couldn't keep his hands locked as they were. He may be taller, but his arms weren't longer or stronger than Corrin's legs. The younger prince broke free.

And landed flat on his ass. Damn that hurts. Hardly a glamorous move, but he'd taken his brother's sword with him and, with it, victory.. Black, trimmed with golden edge and grip. Deceptively light, as it lacked a fuller and crossguard. Yet, even unattuned as he was, Corrin could feel the power within the blade humming about. Power he's seen unleashed a great deal many times.

"Reckless, dangerous, needlessly risky, your bladework was adequate if unremarkable and your defenses were mediocre. Thievery unbecoming of Nohr royalty." Xander softened. "Well done. It is dangerous to be too committed on a strategy in light of the ever-changing conditions of battle. You adapted to the situation at hand and changed tactics accordingly. Flexibility is a vital component of command and you showed that in excess. Flawed, yes, and reliant on the conditions at hand, but all battles are as such. I declare: victory is yours."

Everyone cheered for him.

Corrin dropped the breath he'd hadn't been unaware he was holding. Xander practically gave this away and even then it was like scaling a tower. With Siegfried, or if he'd attacked for real, or if he'd just moved Bertholdt… A thousand things that didn't come true could have kept him in Northfort. He was finally free.

"Now, if I may have my sword back."

Corrin chuckled. "Of course."

AN: Thanks for readin' folks.