1185

Shamir,

Sorry it's been so long since I wrote. The ambassador and I just returned from Morfis. I'm actually writing this on the boat back. He tells me to give you his regards.

He misses you, I think. I do too.

The rest of the kids miss you too. Ha. Kids doesn't seem to be the right word for them anymore. Some of them are as old as we were five years ago. Doesn't feel like it's been that long.

There's a place for you if you come back, remember that.

Catherine

Shamir,

We just got word from Sylvain, Dimitri's dead.

It hasn't hit me yet, honestly. I grew up knowing about him and was under the assumption he'd be the next king. We all did, in Faerghus. Sure, we lost Lambert, but Dimitri would always be there.

Guess it's one of those comforts you don't value until it's gone. Claude doesn't know what's going to happen to Faerghus, which I think is one of the few times I've heard him admit to not knowing something. But Sylvain is doing what he can to manage, sounds like he and Felix are leading the resistance against the Empire. Though Felix didn't sound optimistic when I spoke to him.

Part of me feels like I should be with them, fighting against Rowe, Cornelia, and the rest of the Empire up north. I ought to ask Mercedes what she thinks next time I see her.

Maybe you're up there fighting. I don't know what side is paying you these days, but wherever you are, I hope you're safe.

Catherine

Shamir,

Whenever I start these letters, I wonder if you'll respond. I've been sending them to Hevring still, maybe the reason I haven't heard back is because you're not there anymore.

Or maybe you just want me to stop.

Leonie doesn't agree with either. She and I work together most of the time. Captain of the Ducal Guard suits her, I think you'd be proud of her. Though she's still struggling with what's happened to her, she's getting better. I'm proud of her for that, at least.

I asked her what I should write to you and she said what I felt. Said that nothing else I have to say is getting a response, so I might as well lay down my hand.

I'm angry, Shamir.

I'm furious that when I woke up you weren't there. I'm furious that no one could tell me whether you survived until months later when I talked to Felix who saw you make it out. I'm not a saint, but I didn't deserve to just be abandoned, not without an explanation.

And I'm angry that you're working with the Empire.

I'm not stupid, you know. This Shrike that's targeting nobles, Claude thinks its Hubert. And I don't correct him. But I've seen the assassination attempts. Sylvain told me all about the death of his father. And I know your work when I see it.

I just want to know why, Shamir. Why for everything. If you hate me, fine. Just grow the fuck up enough to tell me. You're better than this.

Catherine

Shamir,

Look, I'm sorry for the last letter. It's been...stressful, lately. Seteth is still trying to convince me to help him organize the Knights of Seiros again. You'd think after the fourth time saying no, he'd stop, but I suppose I can't blame him. With you and I gone, Alois dead, and Seteth crippled, who's left? Flayn? As if he'd ever accept that.

He understands, I think. I don't think he believes Rhea is alive either. We had hope at first but…five years is a long time. I might have given up on her, but he hasn't yet.

Must be strange to hear, right? Me, giving up on Rhea. I hadn't at first, not until I started working with Claude.

You know, if you ever come back, you should ask Claude about what his dream is, I think you'd appreciate it. I know I do.

But back to Claude, he put things into perspective. Maybe you had known, but the story behind Rhea, Jeralt, Byleth…it sure is something. They might all be dead, but I'm still left to wonder if I ever knew who Rhea was.

I thought she was goodness incarnate, but maybe I was just too self-centered. Too convinced I'd never serve someone so callous, so I pretended she was perfect.

I did…a lot of bad things in her name. We killed so many in Gaspard during the rebellion. And others, so many others. I was her sword, her bloody instrument. I think that blood is still on me.

I doubt you want to hear me whine so I'll stop here. I don't know why I even send these anymore.

Catherine

Shamir,

I'm leaving Leicester for a while. I can't say where I'm headed. But if for some reason you decide to send a letter, I won't receive it. I'm pretty certain this is the type of mission that if it goes wrong, I won't be coming back.

It might go well, but that kind of luck is in short supply these past five years. I'm not optimistic.

So this is goodbye, Shamir. There's not much I have to say that I haven't said in these letters. I guess I just hope you remember me. Whether that's ill feelings or not, it's something. With the rest of the Charons dying last year, I think it'd be nice to be in someone's thoughts.

I love you, Shamir. I always have and will.

I wish things could have been different.

Catherine

There is a stack of unfolded letters on the desk, many-day-old tear stains sprinkle some of them. All are addressed to the same person and written in the same messy handwriting. Next to the pile is a crumpled up piece of paper, incomplete in its thoughts, but not forgotten.

Catherine,

I don't know what to say on paper. Talking has never been my strong suit, so writing certainly isn't.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for a lot of things and most of them involve you. Looking back on things, I see a lot I could have changed, a lot we could have done better.

But maybe that never could have been the case. We were so young, Catherine. Despite everything I said, I really did think things would last between us.

The next sentences are crossed out so furiously the words beneath them are impossible to decipher. The letter continued beneath them.

Fuck, Catherine, I don't know what to do. I've been in the Empire trying to save someone for a while now. I doubt you'll believe me, but that's part of the reason I haven't written you back. I'd blow my cover.

It's a shit excuse, I know. Mostly because I know if I tried I could have sent you a message. But I'm a coward.

You deserve to know why for a lot of things. I hope—

The words 'to see you again' are crossed out.

I hope the future is kinder to us.

The letter remains unfinished.

The letter is tucked behind a loose brick in the wall, so tightly wedged in that no one would see the difference. It is hidden where only two know its location.

I'm sorry. I'm leaving you.

Remember what I taught you. Don't let them change who you are. Don't let your people suffer. Fight us if you have to. We won't hold it against you.

Do what you have to do. Don't hesitate, don't show her even a second of weakness.

I'm going to Leicester. I've been away too long. Though if the good I've done these years is help protect you, then it wasn't for nothing.

I know I told you I'd stay by your side and protect you, but some things…some things you just have to do.

I hope we see each other again in kinder times, Petra.

Shamir

Author Notes: Jeez this is short. I expected it to be the shortest though (though sorry for giving you such a short chapter! Next one is already underway). Rest assured, next chapter we're back up to my regularly planned 4k per chapter. Just wanted to get these timeskip ones out so we can move onto that juicy conflict.

Editing Notes:
5/9/2021: Minor grammatical adjustments.