No Longer Alone

And on we go…

Special thanks to Gunlord500 for taking time out to specifically review every single chapter of my work just because I asked nicely. (Although given how frequently he visits, he might not see this until several months after my writing this.)

Anyway, I hope I provide an enjoyable read.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"'You were damn lucky, you know."

Franz glanced up, his eyes clouded with fatigue as he caught the gaze of his elder brother. "Thanks. I think I figured that out for myself."

Forde sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Reminds me of the days when I was the reckless one, charging ahead and needing Kyle to cover my back."

"At least I didn't try to get myself into that situation." The young knight pointed out. "It was just the way things happened. I did what I had to."

"Of course. How'd Amelia take being rescued by her knight in shining armour, anyway? I seem to recall her sneaking into your room late last night."

"If you must know, she said 'thank you' very nicely, and told me to get a good night's rest so I would recover faster." He replied. "Not that it's any of your business."

"But how could it possibly not be my business?" Forde questioned as he settled himself onto his bench next to Franz. "After all, it concerns the future of my family, a sister-in-law…"

"I think I prefer you when you're serious." Franz muttered as he turned away towards the mug he held in his hands.

"What makes you think I'm not? Starting a new family is a very weighty affair that requires a large amount of planning and care-"

"I'm going outside." He snapped as he stood abruptly, heading for the exit.

He'd barely made it out into the sunshine of the sand-blasted courtyard before he heard a shout behind him. Turning, he saw General Seth walking up.

"Yes, General?" He questioned as he pulled himself to attention.

"At ease." The Silver Knight nodded. "Franz, you've no other duties this afternoon, correct?"

"No, sir." Franz shook his head. "We're still in recovery from the Jehenna battle, so most of the knights are off duty for the time being."

"That's good." Seth hesitated for a brief moment. "Franz… we need to talk about getting you a new mount."

He closed his eyes, and nodded. "I understand, sir."

"As it stands, there are several horses whose riders are no longer available." The general didn't go into any more detail. He didn't need to. Those warhorses wouldn't be up for grabs if the person riding them still had any hope of returning to the saddle someday.

"…Any freshly trained ones?" Franz asked. Most mounts tended to form bonds with their respective riders and would thus be uncomfortable with an unfamiliar owner. And even if that weren't the case, many of them would be put off by the different feel of Franz's control, the subtle differences in strength and urgency serving to confuse the horse – not to mention any individual quirks the mounts themselves might have that the old riders had gotten used to. There was of course the argument that an experienced warhorse would be more reliable than one who had never actually been in combat before, but that was a trade-off Franz felt comfortable with making.

"Unfortunately, no." The general ran a hand through his hair. "We didn't have many opportunities to get new mounts during out travels, so, well, the ones that set out from Frelia and Rausten are all we have."

"I see." Franz hesitated before sighing. "General, if I may… I'd prefer to wait."

"Wait?" He could hear the underlying curiosity in his mentor's voice.

"We'll be returning to Renais after this, won't we?" He shrugged. "I'll find a new mount when we're back home. I… I can go without for a little while."

Seth paused, considering the idea, and nodded. "Very well. That is acceptable. I'll let Lord Ephraim know, then."

As the general turned and retreated back into the shadowy hallways of the fort, Franz noticed for the first time that Amelia and Ross appeared to be sparring in the courtyard.

"HiYAH!" Pivoting on her right foot, Amelia brought her staff smashing down, knocking through Ross' defences and connecting solidly with his midsection.

"Umph!" With a strangled shout, the axefighter was sent sprawling onto the ground in an ungainly heap, leaving Amelia to step back, lower her weapon, and wipe the sweat from her face.

"I win." She said, unable to keep the exuberant grin from her face. She knew Ross had been receiving training from his father, Sir Garcia. So if she could beat him in a duel, that was a sign that she herself was improving, right?

"Yeah, yeah." Ross muttered as he picked himself up and hefted his training hatchet onto his shoulder. "I was holding back, you know."

"What?" She smirked, cocking her head to the side. "You can't handle losing to a girl?" She knew she really shouldn't be rubbing it in like this, but the recent rush of positive emotions was making her a little… well, reckless, for lack of a better term.

"Not like that." Ross rolled his eyes. "Look, you know that I've been getting training from my dad, right?"

"How could I not? You never miss an opportunity to complain about it."

"Ha. Ha. Anyway, the both of us use axes, right?"

"Yeah…" Amelia glanced over at Ross' hatchet. "The fighting style of an axe is different from a lance, or even a sword. General Duessel gave me a brief walkthrough on the differences before."

"You've got the General teaching you?" Ross whistled. "Talk about lucky. But anyway, he's right. Axes are made for hitting hard and fast, but they're no good at defending. There's nothing to really block with, after all." He gave his weapon a practice swing at the air. "So if you use mainly axes, you gotta learn how to go all out. Best defence is a good offence, and all that."

"Uh-huh. I'm with you so far."

"But when you're sparring with a friend…" Ross paused and frowned. "You can't do that. You've always got to hold back just enough so that you won't seriously hurt the guy – or girl – if you end up winning."

"Oh, sure." Amelia rolled her eyes. "And I, meanwhile, was in it to smash your skull to a pulp."

"It's not about how hard you hit. It's the way you fight." Ross heaved a sigh. "Trust me – if you ever learn how to use an axe, you'll understand."

"I guess." Amelia chewed at her lip thoughtfully. "Well, it was a pretty good session, wasn't it?"

"Sure was! We'll have to do it again sometime." Ross paused and glanced up. "Man, I'm hungry. I'm gonna go see what they have in the store. See you later!"

"Later." Amelia twirled her staff as she walked Ross walk off. The wooden instrument was a sturdy one, but it was starting to show signs of wear and tear. A testament to how often she used the thing to train, she supposed. She'd have to get a new one soon…

"Nice match." A new voice broke through her thoughts. "You've really improved."

She smiled wryly at Franz. "Flatterer." Then her face creased slightly with worry. "Should you be up? I heard Sister Natasha saying your wounds hadn't fully recovered yet…"

"Yes, I'll be fine as long as I don't exert myself." The cavalier shrugged. "And lying in bed the whole day just doesn't sit right with me."

"Yeah, I guess…" Amelia glanced down at the ground. "Hey, Franz?"

"Hm?"

"We're… we're going to Renais next, aren't we? I mean, I overheard the princess discussing it with some of the officers earlier today."

"I'd think so." The knight swallowed, and for the first time Amelia thought she heard a faint tremor in his voice. "Sir Orson – he's…" He trailed off, glanced at Amelia. "You don't know who Sir Orson is, do you?"

She shook her head. "I don't think I've heard the name."

"He is – was – a knight of Renais. One of the most trusted, too. Ephraim had him as his personal confidante. And then he betrayed us. He left Prince Ephraim to die, he led Princess Eirika straight into a Grad ambush, and the latest reports say he's been given stewardship of Renais." The way he said it was as if he were simply reeling off a list of facts, as if he was trying very hard not to think about what he was saying.

"And so… so we're going to stop him?" Even as Amelia spoke, she felt a trickle of coldness down her gut.

"I guess." Franz sighed. "I never knew Sir Orson very well – I was always closer to General Seth. But General Seth – and Prince Ephraim – were close to him, and I guess it kind of bled through to me a little. The General trusted him absolutely, so I guess it was only natural I would, too. It hit General Seth the hardest, though. After the fight at Renvall, on our way back to Frelia, he was brooding throughout most of it."

"Probably wondering what happened to make him turn against his homeland." Amelia turned to look towards the gates, and past them to the desert lands. "What could possibly justify an act like that."

"Yeah, I guess. We really don't have any idea why he did it, so I guess that makes it hurt all the more." Franz closed his eyes. "Still though… I'm not sure there's anything that could justify what he did."

"You justified it easily enough in my case, didn't you?" Amelia replied, and she was surprised at the bitterness in her own voice. It wasn't even aimed at Franz, a deep part of her realized. Silently, she wondered if she would ever be able to stop tormenting herself over her decision to leave the Grado army.

"No." Franz shook his head and turned to face her. "Amelia, what you did was different. Stop acting like you're a horrible person for what you did. In the end, it was the right thing to do. You said that yourself, remember?"

"Yes, I know. I know." She sighed. "It was the right thing to do in the end, Prince Lyon is up to no good, I can't justify Grado's working with the fiends, and so on and so on. But, Franz, I didn't join you because I disagreed with what Grado was doing or because I found my orders unacceptable or… or… or anything! I became a part of this army because you were nice to me!" Her grip on the wooden staff tightened, and she realized her arms were trembling. "How can that possibly be any better than… than whatever it is your Sir Orson betrayed you for?"

"Amelia, stop it!" She felt strong arms reaching out to seize her by the shoulders. "You're not the same as Sir Orson. You are nothing like Sir Orson!" She looked into his face, noticing for the first time that her view was blurred by a misty frame that threatened to become actual tears. Hastily she reached up to wipe at her face, before swallowing hard and looking at Franz again.

He paused, took a deep breath, and continued in a softer, but still firm, voice. "You weren't a knight. You didn't sign any oath. You hadn't even finished your basic training. Do you know how many years Sir Orson had spent serving Renais?" He let out a long breath and turned away. "You were sent into the frontlines of a war with barely any idea how to fight. You were defeated and captured, had your preconceptions of what your enemy – what we were like – shattered, and treated far better than you expected. And to this day you still hesitate, still doubt yourself whenever we go up against Grado. Do you want to know what Sir Orson did? He lied to us, lied to Princess Eirika, led us deep into a trap. He fully intended to have us all slaughtered. Do you really think anything you've done is comparable to that?" He looked away. "…And don't lie to yourself either, Amelia."

"W – what?" She stammered. Something about the way he looked at her… unnerved her.

"Back when we first met. Even back then, you were starting to wonder. Starting to doubt if Grado really was as good as you wanted to believe it was. I talked to you, remember? In that room…"

"No, I – no." She shook her head violently. "Stop it. Stop trying to make me remember things that didn't happen. I trusted Grado. I trusted my country and I…"

"What?" For the first time since she had started to talk to him, he heard naked anger in Franz's voice. "Amelia, stop it. You said – your exact words – to Prince Ephraim, that you wanted to fight on the side I was on because you believed it was the right side. What, were you lying to him because you wanted to grasp at any straw that would let you join the Frelian army? Why do you keep beating yourself up over this? Why do you keep insisting on making yourself feel worse than you already do?"

"I…" She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Had she truly said what Franz said she had? Those days seemed like an eternity ago. "I…" A deep breath. "I don't know. Sometimes I don't want to think about it, and then I start feeling guilty for not wanting to think about it. Sometimes at night I just keep replaying the images of all the Grad soldiers I've killed and then when I go to sleep I get nightmares. Sometimes I look at the camp, and I watch all the soldiers here doing ordinary, simple things like eating their meals or napping and I wonder if the Grad soldiers are doing the same thing at that moment. I… I thought it would get easier, that I would care less… But it hasn't! And then I feel guilty about wanting to care less, and I don't know what to do!" As she finished her outburst, she wiped at her face again, grimacing at the warmth on her cheeks.

A moment later she gasped in shock as she felt strong arms encircling her, heard his gentle voice in her ear. "Amelia… I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" She whispered. "What are you sorry for?"

"Everything." He said simply. "This whole lousy war. The fact that you have to fight against your own country. How wretched you feel. Everything."

She chuckled, a watery, burbling sound as it came out past the tightness in her throat. "Stupid." She mumbled. "It's not your fault. None of it is."

"But that doesn't mean I don't wish I could make it better. That I could help you more." She heard a pang in his voice. "I wish I could do more."

She closed her eyes. "Thanks, Franz."

"HEY!" The shout cut through the air, and lifting her eyes, Amelia caught sight of Kyle gesturing for the knights to assemble. Somewhat hesitantly, Franz broke the embrace.

"You'll be all right?" He asked softly.

"Heh. Yeah, I guess." Her smile was rueful. "I… I think I really needed to get that off my chest. I feel better now." She glanced over to the growing huddle. "I guess you should be going."

"Mm. I'll see you later, then."

"Yeah."

Approximately one hour later, Franz left the meeting with a sigh. It's subject had been more or less what he'd surmised – they were soon to strike out for Renais, partly to re-establish Prince Ephraim and Princess Eirika as the legitimate rulers of the realm, but mostly to remove Sir Orson and the last known bastion of Grad soldiers from his position.

As he stepped out into the sun again he caught sight of General Seth staring forlornly at the sky.

"Sir?" He said softly.

"Hm? Oh, Franz." The Silver Knight smiled tiredly. "Go get some rest – we've no idea what's waiting for us back in Renais, and we need to be ready to meet the challenges ahead of us."

"…As you wish, sir." He hesitated, unsure if what he was about to ask was overstepping his bounds. "General," he began slowly. "Are you unsure about fighting Sir Orson?"

His mentor's face became an impassive mask with frightening speed. "No more unsure than I am when facing down any other enemy of Renais." He replied evenly. "Does that answer your question?"

"…I suppose it does, sir." Franz said softly. He paused. "Well, I'd best go get ready, then. I've still got to get my new armour and weapon from the smiths."

The General made no reply as Franz headed off.

Chapter End

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