Author's Note: Here's Johan's ending, with as much depth as I can give him. He may be a goof and a clown but he's also incredibly strong, brave and seems compassionate enough. Considering the final chapter killed his older brother (last surviving family member) and, in my game, it was Johan and Lakche who finally put Burian down, he must have had some issue with that. So, I thought I'd play the idea out.
The victory at Barhara had been met with raucous applaud and ridiculous celebrations, even the most sober men cheering and dancing like idiots across the streets.
Naturally, the Liberation Army was at the heart of these celebrations... everyone from Arthur to Patty to Skasaher was either drinking, bouncing giddily or tightly embraced in the arms of a loved one as the sun finally began to set.
And yet, Lakche couldn't find the one person she had been sure would be soaking up the attention and chance to brag endlessly of exaggerated accomplishments had chosen to sit on the parapets of Castle Barhara with barely a word. Loathe as she was to admit it, Lakche was worrying about him… and she was irritated that the feeling had sprung up so easily in her.
It was so stupid, she knew almost nothing could shake Johan… he was every bit as confident and self-assured as he claimed. Hell, he'd dusted himself off after his family members' deaths in Issac with barely a hint of mourning. The Axe Knight was immune to misery, as his often irritatingly bright grins and endless awful poetry could attest.
She had better things to do, selfish as it sounded, after saving the entire continent than wander about the empty upper floors of a castle in search of her obnoxious axe-wielding boyfriend.
The one night she might actually appreciate some of his endless flattery… the one time she'd definitively earned it and could earnestly enjoy his fawning, and he'd chosen now to give her some space. She would honestly never understand what went through his mind.
Her unhappy musings had carried her further than she realised as she caught sight of a large, muscular man sitting on the edge of the castle wall, staring off silently into the sun with his long legs stretched across the gap between raised sections.
The blank expression he offered did little to comfort Lakche's unease as she approached him carefully.
Crossing her arms, Lakche took a moment to take in his appearance… his loud mouth making it difficult to focus on anything else long enough to appreciate it normally.
He wasn't too bad; really, he was well built and had a decent sense of fashion, his clothes being just tight enough to reveal his physique without restricting movement. His neatly combed mop of brown hair fell just above his eyes to frame the warm brown pools pleasantly and give them a striking quality that most could turn most women's legs to jelly.
Honestly, if he'd just been a little quieter, they probably would have ended up together before the war. But then again, he wouldn't have been her Johan if he didn't throw himself completely into everything he did… even clichéd romance.
"Hey, why are you lounging around up here?!" she shouted, her voice lacking any irritation as a smirk crossed her face, "Shouldn't you be down there, bragging about those three Dragon Knights you dragged out of the air back in Thracia?"
Johan turned to glance at her, a smile crossing his face as his eyes burned dimly, like a torch viewed through heavy fog. He opened his mouth to say something but it soon fell closed again as he turned back to the sunset, words failing him for the first time either teenager could remember.
"The view here… it's nice." he said lamely after a few moments of awkward silence, his normal poetic license with language seemingly revoked by his sullen attitude.
"Just nice?" Lakche asked uncertainly, one eyebrow rising curiously.
"Em… I meant to say that its brightness really… brightens things. And that's nice to look at… sometimes."
Even Johan looked mildly ashamed at his pitiful effort, one of his hands running through his hair haphazardly, destroying its neat perfection as several strands popped up or bent backwards in a tangled mess as the offending hand's motions became more frantic.
His long fingers curled inwards to scrape his trimmed nails against his skull, all while his smile began to shake and falter to a depressed frown.
His (admittedly weak) self-mutilation probably would have lasted for quite a while if a pair of slim, calloused hands hadn't reached out to forcefully grip his wrist and wrest it away, Lakche yelling "What the hell are you doing, you idiot?! You're gonna hurt yourself doing something so stupid!"
Johan chuckled humourlessly, his fingers twisting as best they could to softly stroke Lakche's own.
"Indeed, you're right yet again. I don't know what came over me, perhaps a brief bout of fever?"
"Cut the crap." she responded firmly, pulling his legs aside so that she could plop down next to him "Something's bothering you and, when we got together, I kind of started worrying about you a bit more. So, make with the explanation before you start pissing me off."
Despite her choice of words, her dark eyes wavered slightly and a clear nervous worry had settled in. The sight was so adorable to the Dozel heir that he actually started laughing while his arms reached forward to wrap around Lakche's lithe form, her frown deepening as a warm blush tinted her cheeks.
"Wh-wha-what are you doing?" she said tensely, inwardly cursing the subdued, stuttering voice that escaped her throat, "Don't laugh at me, I'm being serious." she mumbled into his chest half-heartedly as his pleasant scent bore down upon her the same way it had the first time they'd embraced on the outskirts of the Yied Desert.
"You are both the epitome of womanly beauty and the very spirit of a child's adorableness, so flawless in both regards." Johan exclaimed, some of his usual fervour entering the sincere smile he offered her, "To think one so perfect is mine, even after my shameful performance in Grandbell is beyond the words and comprehension of mortal men."
"What?" Lakche responded, dazed by the sudden rush as her mind replayed everything he said over the next few moments, "Wait… how was your performance in Grandbell shameful?"
At this, he dramatically brought his arm over his forehead to cover his eyes, his voice going up an octave to accentuate the performance "Ah, my dear lady you are too kind. It is little wonder I fell for you so quickly… such unlimited kindness must be radiating all around you so that even strangers may appreciate its-"
"My question. Answer it. Now." Lakche interrupted with a glare, arms crossing over her chest as Johan rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.
"Ah, certainly. It was not my intent to distract you or evade your question, but sometimes I get a little carried away and the-"
"Johan!"
"Sorry, was about to go off on another rant there" Johan laughed happily, Lakche's annoyance noticeably (and involuntarily) melting at the sight.
Finally ceasing his mirth, his shoulders sagged as a sad smile tugged at his lips "I'm not avoiding this, am I?" at the shake of Lakche's head, he sighed before continuing "It started with Johalva."
"But he died in Issac." Lakche's eyes narrowed as a hand unconsciously went to his forehead; retreating when she was satisfied he wasn't actually running a fever.
Johan chose to ignore the show of affection and answered in an unsuitably (in Lakche's eyes) solemn voice "Yes, after he'd bested me in combat and, beyond dispute, proved himself the stronger brother, Sir Celice did run him through with a sword in Issac."
Frowning at his defeated statement, Lakche remained silent as the doubts continued to pour from his mouth, "I shook off the experience, buried the doubt, mourning and guilt beneath the sands of war and the unshakable knowledge that true justice oft demands a sacrifice."
"I was doing a fine job of it too… until Burian and I faced off here in Grandbell. My older brother, both the Master Knight and a chance to avenge my losses and prove the Johalva incident a misplaced whim of fate." squeezing Lakche tightly against him with one arm, he continued "I could either save him, the preferable option for reasons obvious to even the simplest knave, or I could best him and show that I was worthy of the family name and that my survival over theirs was not a complete waste of the family line's boundless potential. As the record shall show, it was not my destiny to accomplish either task."
Lakche flinched subtly at this, her memories flying back to her own encounter with Danan's eldest.
Johan had attempted to match strength with Burian's holy weapon, the Hero Axe glistening against the sun as it met an instrument of the Gods in their brotherly clash.
Johan had made two quick slashes, managing to slice a deep gash in his brother's left arm before the Swanchika had found his stomach. Lakche's blood had frozen as Johan convulsed violently, bloodied vomit pouring from his mouth as he fell from his steed in the foetal position. She'd barely registered the crimson pool forming about his body before her own Hero weapon was in her hands and cutting through Burian, the Shooting Star sensation overtaking her and leaving the Master Knight no time to even raise his axe to block.
If Rana hadn't been around… Johan would not have survived his injuries. He would have died right there, embraced in Lakche's arms, her desperately shouting for help while he muttered weak declarations of dying love.
She had thought his nonchalance after the event meant the encounter had had no effect on him, and yet here they were.
"When did you figure out how to do humility?" Lakche remarked, her own slender arm slinking around his waist with the same reassuring light pressure, "You always said you were the greatest axe-wielder on the continent. Hell, I can think of a few times you said 'best in the world'."
"I admit that I may have stretched the truth slightly in that regard, intending to rectify it to honesty with my diligence and unconquerable spirit." Johan laid his head lazily atop his girlfriend's, soaking in the comforting feeling before asking "Have I failed them?"
"Huh?"
"Perhaps this feeling is some divine punishment for betraying my blood and failing to meet their standards… likely the mood will pass with the cycle of the moon." Johan actually chuckled at this, "I'm turning into a lunatic."
"I always thought you were crazy." Lakche answered somewhat sarcastically, her grin proving contagious as Johan beamed down at her while failing to look hurt by her comment.
"Milady, I am offended. To think you were capable of such cruelty… unthinkable!" he punctuated the dramatic cry by placing one hand over his heart and feigning a nervous swoon.
"Now that's more like it." Lakche nodded determinately, but internally she breathed a happy sigh of relief at Johan's return to form, "Now that you're back to normal, we can enjoy the night together."
His eyebrows rose to near the top of his forehead as he gripped her hands in his own; his warm eyes peering into her own lovingly, "I would like nothing more."
"Good. Oh, and about you being a failure." Lakche said slyly, while Johan's joy gave way to curiosity, "Nothing could be further from the truth."
Johan's jaw slackened as Lakche shook her head playfully, "Honestly, you've impressed me over this past year… far more than you should have been able to."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" Johan questioned earnestly, looking more confused than affronted.
"That I'm proud of you… and I think your family would be too if they could see you today. You fought nobly, slayed many enemies and even abdicated the dukedom because you thought it would make things easier for the people there."
"My father tainted our reputation… my inaction in Issac left me ineligible for such an important and respected position as the Duke of Dozel." Johan responded easily, the words rolling from his mouth without a hint of hesitation or regret.
"I used to think you were selfish shallow and mediocre with an axe." seeing the signs of exaggerated pain beginning to take hold on his face, Lakche hit his chest playfully and quickly added "Of course, I don't think that now. Weren't you listening to a word I said? You said you'd prevail and you have. As both a warrior and as a man you cannot be called a failure."
It had been a fairly heartfelt declaration and her own organ was beating uncontrollably afterwards, the urge to ease Johan's mood finally deflating beneath her embarrassment at the loss of her more icy demeanour.
This was aided by Johan's commentary, "That may be the most you've ever said to me."
"And?" Lakche added testily, upset at his lack of enthusiasm for her outburst.
"I think I like it. Although, there is much to be said for your more natural emotional habitat… that paradox of Yied and Silesian weather that exists at the heart of your temperament." Johan pulled her close after this, and whispered in her ear "I love you either way."
Feeling the heat rush to her cheeks, Lakche whispered back tersely "You're getting better at this."
Johan nodded victoriously before pausing to stroke his chin thoughtfully.
"Still, if a critic as harsh as you-" "Hey!" "-can call me a success. Who am I, a simple plebeian by comparison to your inherent wisdom, to disagree?!"
Johan immediately brightened at his (apparently brilliant) deduction, turning to face the door while offering his arm to his waiting lady, "Shall we go, lovely Lakche? The dance and duty of celebration awaits us, and surely we should pay it the highest respects and services."
"Well, that mood didn't last long." Lakche mumbled before gripping his forearm and allowing him to lead her as they walked, "I'm glad you're back to normal… this Johan is weird enough."
"Ah, but with your love by my side, no evil of man or mood could ever lastingly overcome me. Your presence alone can lift my spirits so." Johan answered while managing to ignore most of what she'd actually said.
Still, she didn't really mind.
The night was still young and they had much to be thankful for. Including each other, not that Lakche would freely admit that to anyone but herself and (only very rarely) the man of honour himself in that little arrangement.
And if he ever started doubting himself again… well, she'd definitely be there to do something about it!
Huh, that turned out pretty different from what I expected. It feels a bit aimless at parts and Johan's bloody rebounds (which seem in-character to me) make a flowing narrative difficult. Still, this does set-up Johan somewhat for "A Son's Confessions", so it's consistent with my previous work if nothing else. Hopefully, Lakche was alright here, tsunderes are difficult for me.
P.S. Writing Johan's dialogue is surprisingly difficult when attempting a more subdued scene. I tried to use an overly dramatic way of speaking in these scenes rather than a flowery one (like his conversation with Lakche in the Final Chapter) and I'd like some feedback if anyone has a suggestion.
P.P.S. Suggestions are still welcome, and they do matter. Hannibal's character arc would have been an appendage to Corpul's chapter if not for a specific character suggestion, and that would have been a shame considering I rather like that chapter.