First things first: Let it be known that I went into battle with a doctor's note and a clean(ish) bill of health. Sure, the doctor's note was just Maribelle inviting me over for tea tomorrow morning, and maybe Libra had only cleared me for "walking and perhaps short bursts of running." Essentially the same thing as blanket approval to fight assassins, so long as I made it to my 6 o'clock tomorrow and didn't do any running in the process.
Did I mention I was terrified? At the time, I decided not to mention it to myself, because frankly there was too much going on in there already without me getting involved.
Changing my train of thought before it reached its inevitable conclusion, I focused on the problem coming through the door- two men, single file, each with daggers and crossbows. Probably an advance group, two assassins meant to wreak a little chaos. Speaking of the door, my engineering and design knowledge finally came in handy! Looking at it quickly, it was roughly wide enough to fit one and a half people- no doubt intended to only let one person through at once, a chokepoint to make this fort even harder to breach. And I'd need to use that to its fullest if I planned to live. Despite my earlier confidence, I was more than aware that committing to this was probably not a great idea.
At that point one of the assassins quite helpfully allowed me to stop panicking by trying to stab me. An excellent distraction from oh gods I'm going to die this is a stupid plan. Before I could worry about that, though, I had to quite hastily de-rust my swordsmanship and give it a trial by (hopefully metaphorical) fire.
With only my right side facing the entrance and with minimal room outside my reach to work with, the assassin had elected to leap to the side and hook around, winding his dagger back for a slash at my midsection. Twisting my wrist, I turned the Duke flat and parallel to the ground, pommel pointed towards the door (and, I noted, towards the second assassin, who was about to slip through). Just as the Assassin closed in, I brought the tip down and slashed upwards, forcing the Assassin to dance backwards. He bit out a curse, reversing the dagger in his grip before diving back in again. "Tch, of course," he muttered.
Steadying myself, I spared a glance at the door- damn. The moment I moved for a thrust, which was my original plan, I'd give him enough space to actually get through the door and corner me. And given they were both lightly armored, a single hit wouldn't be enough to kill or even slow one of them down. Which meant- no time, Andrew, focus.
Gritting my teeth, I brought the Duke down into a two-handed grip before pivoting on my right heel. The pivot, which sent lances of pain outwards from my midsection, left me with my back to the door... which would have been dumb, if I hadn't been able to transfer the momentum into an awkward and unsteady kick to force the door closed. That move made my leg ache, because of course I had to kick with the one Drych had broken.
Hey, I hadn't done any running yet, so Libra couldn't complain.
Judging by the cursing, I'd closed the door correctly. Mentally making a note to never try that again, I turned my attention back to the first Assassin just in time to manage a hasty block. I was at the disadvantage here- back to a door that was going to open shortly, fighting an opponent at close range when I had a sword that preferred enemies to be a bit further away.
Being aware of this did not mean I knew enough to do anything about it. So, as the Assassin pulled his dagger back just enough for it to slide off my blade, I pushed forwards, stepped sideways, and- realized it wasn't going to work, because he was still capable of hitting me.
Pain, thought-shattering and mind-clearing, rippled outwards from the tip of his dagger as it traced a line across my midsection. Spreading like ink in water, the pain amplified my senses before drowning them in the dull roar of my heartbeat. The Assassin grinned. "No armor, huh?" he snickered, coming in for another slash as I staggered back.
Remembering I had a sword in my hands, I brought it around in a broad sweep that flowed into a forward thrust. He dodged the slash, unsurprisingly, dancing backwards as he had before. The thrust, though, had a lot more oomph to it thanks to a lunge- beyond just stretching my various injuries unpleasantly, bringing my right leg forward and extending its reach allowed me to score a hit just below the ribcage. After a heartbeat of resistance, the Duke sunk through the hardened leather with ease and slipped into the flesh below it. Maybe I could have ended it then and there, but as it was I'd overextended and I needed to pull back.
"Ach!" he cursed, one hand lurching towards the hole, "Oh, you'll pay for that," he warned me, "Gonna enjoy this."
"You were going to kill me anyways," I grumbled, flicking crimson drops from the tip of the Duke. The air around it hummed with the motion, and with a bit more flourish than needed, I brought the sword up for the next strike.
Every part of my body was screaming at me- the bleeding wound on my chest, the scar on my midsection (Javelins tended to leave those), and the not-quite-fixed bits of my left leg were already oozing fatigue into my system. I had to finish this fast, not that it was much of a surprise. The longer this went on, the more likely it was my incompetence would catch up with me.
I'd been booted from the Shepherds for a reason. So, I realized with a halfhearted smirk, the obvious solution was to get this done as quickly as possible. Without running.
Then, I was out of time to think- it was time to move. Once again, the Assassin initiated, lunging forwards with the dagger drawn back as their other hand went to their waist. I sidestepped, gritting my teeth as the dagger's edge nicked a rib on my left side. Even so, it was a terrible move on his part; with a hasty switch to a one-handed grip, I was able to slam the pommel of The Duke straight into his shoulder. Steel met bone with predictable and sickening results, but before the crack of bone had left my ears, I was bringing up my free hand to shove him backwards.
All at once, the aches and pains in my body vanished. Probably not a good sign, but also not the time to think about it. Now that the Assassin was where I wanted him, I could leverage my height and range advantage, finish this one off, and hopefully get the jump on the second guy.
Bringing the Duke back down into a two-handed grip (ew, blood), I took a half step forward and started swinging. He deflected each and every one of them, dancing through my strikes and redirecting them with quick flicks of the wrist. "You've already lost, y' fool," he growled, "Just lay down and d- hurk!"
Cutting off my haphazard swings (and wincing at the dull throbbing in my arms), I'd gone in for another lunge; once again, he wasn't ready for it.
This time, though, I watched as the Duke's tip sank through his armor, felt the tremor when it nicked a bone in his ribs. Not perfect aim, but good enough to kill. Stumbling backwards off my blade, the Assassin dropped to the ground like a bag of rocks. Two daggers, both stained crimson, clattered to the floor.
"Don't-" I halted, shaking my head and blinking as a wave of nausea overtook me. It warped my sight, darkening it at the fringes before sinking down to prod at my stomach. "Don't- agh. I don't know what you mean," I lied to the corpse, doing my best not to look at the blood, "I feel just fine."
I heard the creaking of wood and metal behind me. Sounds like the second Assassin was right on time, in the worst way possible. Time to improvise.
Looking at the corpse carefully, I frowned. I counted the daggers, noted the blood, and a hand crept to my midsection. "Ah. So that's what you meant," I said through gritted teeth, "Oh, that's deep, isn't it." It felt like the spotlight had been put on me- this was the scene before the curtains closed on the second act.
As the pain returned- as all my pain returned, I groaned and let myself slump. My knees hit the floor, thudding more heavily than I'd intended. Darkness crept in from the edges of the world, bleeding as I bled from... somewhere. "Gah," I groaned, arms trembling as I planted them on the ground. "No, no, I can't-" I continued, mumbling now as I struggled to push myself up. I took a long, ragged breath, grimacing as footsteps thudded closer.
For the second time that day (to imagine, I had been fired just a few hours ago!) I found myself fading, flickering like a candle in the wind. This is not the end, my heart echoed, buried deep beneath my numbing thoughts, Just hold out a bit longer. I dug deeper and deeper, searching for that strength that guided me to draw my sword- No, not yet.
The candle was sputtering, burned too close to the stump. The irony wasn't lost on me: the incompetence that made me run away could get me killed. My breath hitched, caught between a sob and a pained laugh. Hopefully the other Assassin would go for a clean kill. I could see their boots at the fringes of my vision, just out of reach. Bringing one leg up and forward, I turned my slump into something resembling a kneel. Taking a steadying, shuddering breath, I looked up at my would-be killer.
He took a small step forward. "Any last words, filth?" he spat, "And don't even think about screaming."
"No plans," I groaned, putting a hand to my side to staunch the bleeding properly. "No plans to. Just one question, actually."
Looking at me for a moment, the Assassin shook his head, raising a short-sword and twirling it in his hand. "No."
"Pity," I sighed, tightening my grip on the Duke. "I'll ask anyways-"
The sword came down.
Now! Levering myself up from a kneel, I drove the Duke upwards through his chest, stopping only when I felt the tip catch on what I assumed to be his spine.
I flashed a weak grin, nearly vomiting at the look of agonized horror on his face. "How's my acting?"
Don't get me wrong, I was still terrified for my life. Just standing was exhausting- I had no chance of killing him without a little trickery. And, I grimaced, method acting was my best shot at pulling it off. It paid off, sure, but it bled into my already fragile emotional state.
That sounded about as strange as I felt. Pulling the Duke out of the Assassin's innards, I took a deep breath- jasmine, huh- and collected my thoughts. Lists sounded pretty nice right about now.
"Alright, let's review," I said aloud, because the inside of my head was a bit too crowded, "Killed two people. Feel like vomiting, probably will. Great stuff. Upside," I chuckled, wincing as the stab wound made itself known, "I'm alive."
I couldn't begin to guess how much longer I had- right, the bleeding. Idiot. Come on, Andrew, come on, I chided myself, sheathing the Duke. "And this is why I'm not a Shepherd," I sighed, quickly removing my hand from the wound so I could tear the bottom of my tunic. It gave more easily than expected, tearing with a satisfying rrrrip.
Now that I had a 'bandage', I bent down again (gods, that hurt) to salvage some scrap cloth from the two people I'd just killed. I had a feeling that'd bother me once this adrenaline wore off, assuming I didn't die of blood loss first.
The first one I'd killed had a blue handkerchief stuck in his pocket. Wincing, I pulled it out, smelled it (lavender), and sat back away from the bloodstains. Bile built in the back of my throat as I lifted my tunic, revealing the new wounds and the scar from being run through by a javelin. Not pretty, let me tell you- a nasty splotch of red and white that radiated outwards from my left side, just under the ribs. I did my best not to think about it.
Pressing the handkerchief and one end of the bandage up against the wound, I carefully wrapped around, stretching it and tying it tight. Not too tight, hopefully.
Rolling onto my back, I stared up at the ceiling. Why was it wobbling so much? Ceilings don't wobble. Or wiggle, or warp, or any other number of w-words I could think of. Maybe I was just woozy, but the wordplay made me chuckle. "Gods, this was a terrible idea," I said aloud to myself, "Nearly got myself killed. Would've made sense to just barricade the door and run. Wait, does the door barricade?"
After several failed attempts, I managed to push myself up so I could look at the door. Now if it would just. Stop. Moving! Furrowing my brow, I squinted until the door stabilized. "Okay, no, it doesn't barricade. What the hell?"
The door wobbled again. Blinking, I looked at it more carefully.
No, the door wasn't wobbling, it was rattling. Great. Pulling myself up against a wall, I pressed a hand against my makeshift bandage. I doubted I was even capable of running much of anywhere at that moment, and frankly I should have run to begin with. That thought took root, an inkling of regret that wormed its way into my thoughts. Suffering through a lecture from Libra is better than dying, if only slightly.
The moment another Assassin opened the door- wait, no, this guy was way too armored for an Assassin, how the hell had he gotten up on the wall? Anyways, the moment I saw someone come in that I definitely didn't recognize, I dropped my posture further and did my best to play dead. That meant having my head pointed away, because according to a director I'd worked under, the hardest thing to fake is a dead face.
I was shocked he didn't call the ruse immediately- my heart was beating against its confines like a frantic bird in a cage. Loud enough to drown out everything else, loud enough to get me killed. Logically, I knew that hearts didn't work like that, but logic was taking a back seat to panic and pain.
Staring intently at the ground, I held myself as still as possible as the soldier paced through the room. "Gods..." the soldier cursed, "There goes the forward team. Shoulda waited, I told 'em."
And here he was on his own? That didn't make much sense.
Then the door opened again, followed by a thud as wood hit stone. "Stop right- oh, Andrew..." a woman said softly, "Stop right there!"
Cordelia, from the timbre and faint lilt. Her voice was rough, ragged at the fringes from exertion- but there was no weakness beneath it, only steel and strength. She'd be fine; no need to drop the act for now. I'd just distract her. I had to reign in my reflexes when the sound of clashing steel rolled against my ears, push against every sane thought demanding I run. I'd just get in the way, or worse, killed.
"Red, they're right behind us!" another voice added, clipped. "Does this door barric- why doesn't this door have a barricade?"
"I noticed!" Cordelia shouted back, "If it did, Andrew would've done it, and..." she cursed, cut off by another clash of steel. "And stop calling me Red!"
"Duds is dead?" Gaius sputtered out, "Put up one hell of a fight, though. Is that guy disemboweled?"
"Not the time for this, Gaius!" Cordelia barked, "He's either dead or unconscious, and I know you didn't take any Vulneraries."
Any further conversation was drowned out by shouting, clattering, and more sets of armored footsteps than I could keep track of. Gaius cursed quite creatively, but at least it sounded like they were alive. Peeking out of the corner of my eyes, I finally was able to drink in the scene. It wasn't pretty, but that was just because of the corpses.
Cordelia and Gaius were surrounded by maybe eight soldiers, their flanks guarded by two chairs. Clever- wouldn't call it genius, Cordelia disliked the word. As it was, they were holding off the attacking soldiers with care and efficiency: Gaius was nearly a blur of steel and sugar, dodging everything and stabbing back... at everything. Cordelia kept them at a distance with her lance, each swing and thrust leaving the soldiers without an opportunity to respond.
This is what they wanted in a Shepherd. Not me.
Calming my heartbeat, I drew a long, slow breath from the blood-scented air. My stomach lurched in response, and it took all I had to keep it down. Wouldn't do to draw the attention of the soldiers when I was in such a vulnerable position. That didn't do great things for my heart rate, so I risked another calming breath, risked the metallic tang of blood-
-Jasmine? Was that jasmine?
As I watched, the stone floor sharpened, more vivid and somehow stretching beyond its confines. And yet, I could still hear the battle, I could still see the fighting in the corner of my eye. "Am I really that far gone?" I thought more than whispered, voice resonating and amplifying without a hint of echo. Murk crept in at the edges of my thoughts, thick and oily as it grasped at every stray impulse.
"It is odd to receive a visit so soon after the last; stranger still to espy a visitor caught upon the doorstep," a now very familiar voice responded, whispering in my ear from far away. "Soon, you will find your way out, and find your way back to where you are."
I felt a headache coming on, even through the fog.
"Um, thanks?" I replied, somewhat baffled, "Not..." I paused to cough, wincing as pain lanced outwards from my various wounds. "That's new, I guess. Hi, Naga. You caught me at something of a bad moment."
"Indeed I have. Would you like assistance?" Naga asked in return. Distantly, I heard the clink of ceramic, and a hum of satisfaction to follow it. "What or who is Earl Grey?"
Eyeing one of the soldiers, who was limping away from the fight- and towards me- I nodded carefully. "Yes, I'd like some help. Um," I paused, pushing through the murk in my mind, "Earl Grey is from my world. It has Bergamot in it, I think. The fruit we talked about last time."
The air went cold, clamming up into a wet fog against my skin."Thus the exchange is made," Naga declared softly, "So mote it be."
I blinked. "Wait, was that the 'cost' thing you talked about last time?"
"Not so dead after all, huh," a soldier hissed, only a pace away. One gauntleted hand was brought up against his side, crimson staining the fringes of his fingers. In the other hand, he had a fairly normal, if scratched, sword. He loomed over me, leaning heavily on one foot, grimacing and decidedly not happy.
The world, I noted absently, had gone back to normal levels of weirdness. I could deal with that. Well, if it worked once... improve, and do it again. Either way, this was going to suck, and I was going to throw up very soon. Grimacing, I lurched my head up to look the soldier in the eyes. One hand trailed to my side, resting near the grip of my sword. "Barely," I croaked, resolving to ask for the good herbal teas when I saw Maribelle, "Your friends did a number on me."
"Did a whatta?" the soldier blinked, raising his sword, "Whatever. Y' gonna die!"
There might be a science to this, even. Sliding down (and banging my head in the process), I kicked the shin he was putting his weight on and sent him toppling. Rolling out of the way (and banging my head again) I pulled the Duke out of its sheathe, ready to plant it in the back of his neck-
Gods. Wouldn't even be the first time I'd killed today, but this seemed... worse, somehow. Faces of the dead settled strangely in my mind, waiting for my next nightmare. But I couldn't just leave him- that much was obvious.
I'd waited too long. A gauntleted hand closed around my ankle, squeezing hard. Spitting out a curse, the soldier tugged at my leg, pushing himself up with his other hand, "Behind-" he forced out, voice clearly audible even through the clatter of steel.
Biting back a curse (and biting down on my lip), I slid the Duke through the back of the soldier's neck. With a strangled yell, he went limp, dropping like a puppet from cut strings. Doing my best to push away the disgust, I rolled my neck and smiled weakly towards Gaius and Cordelia. Well, I smiled towards the greyish smear of soldiers surrounding Gaius and Cordelia, because everything was a bit blurry and wobbly.
The orange-topped blob moved a bit, resolving into something vaguely Gaius-shaped. That was mostly thanks to the contrast with Cordelia's long red hair, which at the very least told me she was facing the other way. "Ha! Duds is alive. I knew it, Red!"
"I don't appreciate the nickname, Gaius! You still haven't returned the supplies you stole last month," Cordelia interrupted, her voice catching, "Andrew's alive? I thought with all the blood, and only hours after he was..."
"Betcha don't even remember what I took," Gaius sniped back, knocking a soldier's sword aside with minimal concern, "He's lookin' a little woozy though. You good?"
Grimacing, I pulled the Duke out of the soldier's neck, squaring my shoulders. My vision returned fully, resolving the Gaius and Cordelia-shaped objects back into Gaius and Cordelia, respectively. "All considered," I grunted, "I'm doing fine."
I'd gotten lucky- none of the soldiers had registered their dying comrade's shout. But talking had exhausted that luck, because people had ears and could hear when Gaius started shouting at someone. Consequently, one of the soldiers backed away, pivoting towards me and hefting his sword.
"A little less fine now," I amended, glancing at the door leading further into the fort, "I'll go get reinforcements." Assuming he kept walking, I could get myself over to the door and maybe slide on out while I fenced with the soldier. Distantly, I heard Cordelia listing off various food items, complete with exact weights. Guess Gaius didn't know Cordelia that well, if he'd bet on Cordelia forgetting something.
The soldier (who still had ears, much to my chagrin) then employed his brain to reason that I should be stopped. He broke into a sprint, charging towards me. Well, hopefully Libra wouldn't be too mad...
"If Libra asks, I had no choice!" I shouted, breaking into a staggering run towards the door. Thanks to my leg and the stab wound, it was much slower than I would've liked; once I realized how loud the soldiers footsteps were, I gave up on running and spun around. Halfway through the spin, I realized I could turn this into an attack. Too late for that, but maybe next time.
Taking a hasty step back to avoid being slashed across the chest, I responded with a jab in the general direction of my opponent's torso. The Duke skittered off the metal chestplate, screeching loudly and leaving a long scratch to mark its path.
Even so, the thrust was a terrible idea, leaving me open as my arm went wide. I was forced to take another step back. Not good. I had maybe two more of those before my back was against the door, at which point I had no hope of opening it. Unless it opened outwards, but I couldn't for the life of me remember that detail.
All that thought took maybe a heartbeat, and that was a heartbeat too long. Clenching my teeth as the cold iron blade nicked my arm, I took a closer look at my opponent: dingy but sturdy metal armor, held up by straps around the shoul-
Oh right I'm fighting right now.
Bringing up the Duke to block a wide slash, I shook my head clear of the fog and looked my opponent in the eyes. "Say, are you the Plegian Army?" I asked casually, keeping as much strain as possible out of my voice. A plan started to form, and with nothing better to go on, I used that.
"You an idiot?" the man grunted, "Course we're the Plegian Army." As he spoke, he leaned further into our clash, forcing me back half a step. Only one and a half paces left, then.
"Hey Gaius, why the hell is the Plegian Army here?" I shouted, not looking away from my opponent. Carefully adjusting my hands, I switched to a one-handed grip- accepting the loss as he forced me backwards a pace- and pressed it up against the spine of the Duke. Grunting with the strain, I slid my hand up the Duke and levered my opponent's blade down. All the while, I angled the Duke's edge towards his collarbone- a spot only covered with leather padding.
Taking a full step forward, my leg planted between his, I slammed the Duke downwards, embedding it into his shoulder. His sword skittered to the side, just barely missing my leg. The whole motion took less than half a second, and earned me a long cut across the middle of my hand.
It was kind of nostalgic, morbidly- back on Earth, I'd used my height advantage countless times to win fights I really shouldn't have. That's not why I quit HEMA; it was more the fact that I kept getting too bruised up to pay attention in classes the next day. One might read that and wonder why I got so many bruises.
As I recuperated from the blow, jerking the Duke out of the soldier's shoulder, he swung his free elbow up and into my stomach. The strike rolled out like a chain of dominos- reminding my body precisely how much pain I should be in. Gritting my teeth, the taste of blood filled my mouth and escaped as an agonized hiss.
I staggered backwards, ramming into the cold wood and hard metal of the door. My joints turned to jelly; elbows slamming limply against the door as I struggled to keep myself upright. There was no choice but to remain standing- I couldn't see myself fooling three people in a row, and this one didn't look like he'd be patient.
My opponent wasn't in good shape either, though. His lips were curled into a feral snarl, sword held tightly in one hand as he swung at me again.
By the time I was able to block his swing, it was bare inches from my shoulder.
No more playing around, it seemed. The moment our blades met, he was pulling away, winding up for another swing.
Clang. My arms trembled, shuddering from fatigue and fear alike.
Clang. Sharp senses did nothing for a sluggish body, trapped in a fog of exhaustion. Behind my executioner, the world was naught but a blur of silver, red, and orange.
Clang. One hand dropped numbly from the Duke's grip, leaving the other to twist strangely under the force of the blow. "P-please," I sputtered, out, voice shaken and small, "I don't want to die."
My plea landed on deaf ears, sound half-muffled by ragged breathing. I hadn't shown mercy to his comrades, so why would he show any for me?
Clang. The blade's edge slid across my shoulder painlessly- I only knew it happened from how cold it felt. So this was it, then?
Clang. Not quite. I was able to block this one, transferring the weight of the blow through the blade, down my arm, and into the wood.
The Duke slipped from my fingers, clinging for a heartbeat before falling to the ground.
No more tricks. No more Andrew.
I waited for the end, regrets pressing in-
But the end never came. The soldier slumped to the ground, tossed aside to reveal my savior: Gaius, with a knife stained crimson. "I was thinking Wedge, 'cos I saw Sully kick a door hard enough to wedge it open. What d'you think?"
Blinking, I rolled Gaius' words over in my mouth, furrowing my brow. "What?"
Gaius rolled his eyes, leaning over to pick up the Duke. Testing its weight, he raised an eyebrow and nodded approvingly. "Nice sword, Duds. We never came up with a name for Sully, remember?" Flourishing the Duke, Gaius lost his grip and dropped the Duke back onto the ground. Cursing to himself, he pulled a lollipop out of... somewhere... before sticking it in his mouth.
"Bwuh," I replied eloquently, half-torn between laughing and crying. Laughing through a choked sob, I shook my head. Tension eased from my shoulders as I knelt (ow), picking up the Duke so I could properly sheathe it. "Wedge is a bit of a stretch, if you ask me."
"Damn," he cursed, resting his hands on his hips, "Thought I had it with that one."
"Gaius," Cordelia said testily, pushing the candy thief aside. Her red eyes bored into me, glancing at every inch of my frame before letting her shoulders relax. "You've been sent to Maribelle three times for training in field medicine, and I will make it a fourth after this. Andrew here hasn't had it once! And his wound is properly bandaged, though I should have packed some ban-" she stopped suddenly, shaking her head. Breathing in sharply through her nose, she closed her eyes for a second. "Right," she continued, sticking a hand into the satchel by her side, "Step one. Andrew, are you conscious?"
Rolling his eyes, Gaius let out a sigh and waved his hand sideways. "I'll go get a Vulnerary. Take the main way down, so I can meet you if you start moving towards the healers."
Oh yeah, I was in front of the door. Sidling over to let Gaius through (it didn't hurt that much), I looked back to Cordelia.
Two fingers pressed themselves against the side of my neck, drawing an awkward yelp from my throat. "I'm conscious!" I said quickly, "No need to check!"
"I know that," Cordelia replied tersely, counting under her breath. "Your heartbeat seems fine. Elevated, but acceptable. Thank you, Gaius. Andrew, I see a couple cuts and a bandaged wound. How deep is that stab wound? Do you have any other injuries?"
"No idea how deep it is, and I was elbowed in the stomach by somebody wearing metal armor, so there's a nasty bruise around there. No broken ribs, I think," I listed off, wincing as Cordelia prodded me near the stab wound. "Is that really necessary?"
"Absolutely," Cordelia nodded, lifting my tunic and peeling back the makeshift bandage. She turned slightly green, biting her lip before glancing up at me. "That's the scar from the Deadlord, isn't it? Maribelle and Lissa did some impressive work," pausing, she wrapped her arms partially around my waist, stopping when her fingers hit the wall. "Could you step away from the wall so I can re-wrap the wound?"
"Uh, of course," I replied, cheeks flushing red, "Just feeling a little bit of déjà vu."
One one hand: being hugged by an attractive woman. I'd always had a thing for red hair, and Cordelia did have a lot of red hair.
On the other: armored, and Cordelia really didn't realize what she was doing.
"Déjà vu?" she sounded out, voice muffled by one end of the bandage, "What's that? Sounds Roseannean, like one of those- um, technical manuals I have from there."
A technical manual in cheesy romance, no doubt. "Déjà vu," I started, carefully repeating it syllable-by-syllable for her sake, "Means 'already seen'. In this case, you've already hugged me by accident in the past."
"Ah!" she squeaked, shaking her head and tightening the bandage, "Oh no! I'm- well, I'm not sorry, but I should have asked." Once she was finished, she hastily stepped away.
"It's fine, it's fine," I waved off, wincing as I looked towards the door. "I absolutely don't mind being hugged by pretty women. Crud, did I say that out loud? It's not a lie, I don't mind at all, and... I need to stop talking." I shut my mouth with a clack, cheeks burning as Cordelia covered her mouth to laugh.
"No harm done. Everyone already heard you that one time in the mess tent, and I heard it from Sumia. But I'm not, um," she looked down, "Not, you know, interested. N-not that I thought you were!" Cordelia shook her head furiously, "No offense."
I held back a laugh- I doubted my stomach could take it. "None taken, again. How about we just, um, head towards the healers?"
"Good idea. I'll barricade the door behind us, because that door barricades for sure. I saw the wooden bar in the hallway," Cordelia readily agreed, moving towards the door, "Can you support yourself while I do that?"
"I'll be fine. Wouldn't mind having a shoulder to lean on once we run into some stairs, though."
And just like that, all the tension escaped me- fleeing to parts unknown, replaced by a warm (if pained) calm. I'd done it. I was through the battle, and I hadn't run away.
Despite it all, I didn't regret a thing.
I did have a few questions, though. "Actually," I hummed, stepping through the door and resting my weight on the wall, "Gaius never answered my question. Is the Plegian Army really here?"
Looking at me oddly, Cordelia furrowed her brow and pursed her lip, closing the door behind us. "Is the Plegian Army..." blinking, she tilted her head. "Yes. Didn't you hear? We're being besieged by Gangrel's men."
Working my jaw, I nodded sagely. "I slept through that part, it seems. Worked out alright, at least."
And then I had to brush my worries aside- it's really hard to walk down stairs when you're injured and leaning on a shorter person's shoulder. At least I hadn't ended the battle unconscious, because I was not a fan of that particular trend.
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Author's Note:
This chapter was both super easy and ridiculously hard to write. The drafting was a breeze, but bringing the chapter to my standards was really hard! I'm happy with what I ended up with, but it changes a few of my plans down the line, so this chapter's getting published a day early. I'd like to thank TheBobcat18, Grand Paladin Tyrux, DestructionDragon360, and RedXEagl3 for looking over this chapter (or parts of it). They all write Fire Emblem stuff, so go check them out!
In story news: ~400 followers on this fic! Amazing! You're all fantastic.
Anyways, please let me know what you thought in the reviews! I'm doing my best to respond to them via PM. If you're interested in chatting, drop by the discord: 9XG3U7a
Cheers,
Narwhal Lord
