I bring you over 9,000 words of fluff and happy vignettes of lives well lived. Thank you all for joining me on this journey.
Enjoy!
Epilogue – Where Life Marches On, for Better and Worse
Seychelles had to admit, Alfred had clearly been on to something.
She was raised on the sea, it called to her like few things did in life, so the idea of an airship was completely foreign to her when Alfred had first described it. She thought it ridiculous when he'd gushed about it at the reunion/impromptu bonding ceremony three years past. She still thought it crazy when he started to fly his first prototype only a year later. Seychelles knew his husband's returned, if changed, Talent was a reason the more troublesome problems resolved themselves quicker than if Alfred had work out everything himself. Still, standing at the bow of her ship, looking up at Alfred, she found she still had a hard time wrapping her head around the concept of an 'airship'. Let alone one that actually worked and flew.
But as she stood and looked up, she also found there was no denying the sight of the first, functional airship was something to behold.
It was sleek and had a build that allowed for riding air currents as opposed to cutting through waves. The sails were a sturdier cloth than what made up her own, and were rigged up to a mechanized pulley system, likely so crew did not need to climb up the main staff. The only part of the airship that looked even remotely bulky were the twin engines at the rear of the ship, sticking out on the sides so the propeller-like blades that kept the ship aloft had maximum air flow access.
Seychelles knew this because Alfred had literally talked her ear off about it when they'd first met up at Bruxels.
The port city was always looking to be on the cutting edge of innovation and was the first to build airship hangars alongside its ship ports. Alfred had made more money than he knew what to do with when he'd sold off some of his designs to the same Bruxels-native engineers who had built the steam powered train. The train now ran from Lotharingia throughout Avrupa, with stops in Schywz, Gaul, and Upper Pamonia in addition to Columbiana. Many Talentborn who had originally contributed to the train had contributed to expanding the train now that their Talents restored, and the engineers had been eager for a new challenge. Building a fleet of airships was exactly what they were looking for and Alfred could have bought out a country with the profits, if he had wanted to.
Not that he ever would. Even at twenty-six, he was still as boyish and as carefree as he'd been as a younger man on the Evangeline. He was content as long as he had his airship and the skies.
And Arthur, of course.
Speaking of.
Seychelles turned and smiled at Arthur, who was arguing over something with Francis. Probably food related again—Francis thought it a crime that Arthur wasn't fond of Gaul cuisine, especially after sampling Britannian food over the years. Seychelles thought Arthur probably didn't like Britannian food any better than anything else, but she did think he liked arguing with Francis. Arthur just liked arguing in general she'd discovered. She was happy to learn this about him, feeling as if the Arthur she had first known, voice stolen and limited in how he interacted, was only a half-person and she was seeing him as he truly was now.
They all had been half-people, she thought, in some way. All searching for that intrinsic part of themselves that had been taken.
Bonding and travel suited him, she thought as she appraised him. So did happiness.
If she lined up the Arthur she'd first met years ago, a sullen and angry thing who was afraid of connecting with anyone, with this one, she's not sure she would recognize them as the same person. Even if physically not much had changed, beyond perhaps the freckles that covered his pale skin and the lines around his eyes. He was almost thirty now, but he looked freer and younger than he ever had aboard the Evangeline. More at home with himself, settled in a way.
She supposed love and freedom to roam all over the world would do that for you.
"So," Alfred's voice to her left interrupted her contemplative thoughts. "Still think it's a silly idea, Chelles?"
"Oh, I still think it's absolutely mad," Seychelles quipped, smiling at Alfred's teasing face. "But it's wonderful too. Only you could have come up with something like this."
"Well, not alone," Alfred added, eyes inexplicably drawn towards Arthur like always. "Want to take her out for a spin?"
"You want me to fly her?" Seychelles asked, incredulously gesturing at the airship.
"Sure, it's really not that different from steering a ship," Alfred grinned. "And I can help you if ya get stuck."
Seychelles bit her lip and glanced over at her crew and then back at the ship, aptly named Liberty. It was tempting, no matter how the seas called to her. The idea of flying. "Oh, all right, but only for a quick spin."
Alfred whooped and called out to Arthur. "She said yes, Artie! Let's go!"
Arthur glanced over at her and sighed as Alfred rushed over to the raised gangplank towards the airship. "Oh, I'll never hear the end of it now. I was sure you'd refuse his offer to fly, feet too firmly on the ground. Or sea, as the case may be."
"Oi!" Seychelles called out after him as she and Francis followed him at his more sedate pace. "I happen to be the best captain alive. I can navigate anything."
Arthur grinned as they stepped onto the Liberty, gesturing her towards the flight room which Alfred had called the pit. "Let's see then, shall we, Captain?"
Francis squeezed her hand and she smiled brightly, stepping up to the controls as the thrill of something new rushed through her veins.
"Toris! They'll be here soon!"
Toris looked up from where he was gardening and saw Feliks heading his way, Raivis next to him. Raivis who was tall and confident in a way Toris never thought would be possible all those years held under Ivan's thumb. His voice bright and self-confident as it called out his name, blond curly hair long now, past his chin, and worn in a similar style to Feliks, pulled away from his face with half of it tied up and the rest hanging loose around his shoulders. Even his stutter and nervous shaking had abated, only cropping up on bad days. He looked every bit the twenty-one years he had just celebrated, ready to move forward with his life and own dreams.
It brought a smile to his face and made him wish Eduard was there to see him. To see them both, happy and whole.
He got up and brushed off his hands on his pants, accepting to loud and obnoxious kiss Feliks gave him with a smile before he returned it more gently. Raivis groaned at them and impishly covered his eyes with his hands. "I don't need to see that. Besides, we don't have time for this! The Liberty should be landing in Varsuva soon!"
"Alfred and Eyebrows can totally wait, you brat," Feliks teased back, dipping Toris back dramatically. Toris couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up, even if he wasn't expecting the action. "And stop acting so, like, repressed. Toris and I are happily bonded, you're going to see shit. Gods, who raised you? Oh, wait!"
Raivis rolled his eyes and shoved at Feliks, annoyed but nothing else. Toris was grateful that after six years of freedom, Raivis could react so blithely to Feliks' jokes about his childhood. That hadn't always been the case.
Toris recalled the awful fights that Raivis would have with Feliks early on into them living together. Feliks hadn't been ready to just accept Raivis into the life he had envisioned with Toris. But Raivis was a package deal with Toris, an adopted little brother after all they had gone through together. After what he had promised Eduard. He had tried his best to adjust his own vision for their own future, but Feliks also had never had the most tact. Coupled with Raivis' trauma and low self-esteem, it had been hard for all of them. There had been days when Toris had thought to leave, taking Raivis away and trying to heal just the two of them.
Not to mention the nights when each of their respective nightmares caused Ivan's and Eduard's and Sadiq's names to hang in the air like ghosts.
But Toris refused to lose anyone else, not after everything, not after Eduard's sacrifice. And that determination had helped him constantly work to ease their troubles, to find ways to help Feliks talk to Raivis and accept the boy as more than baggage attached to Toris. It had helped him guide Raivis to view Feliks as something other than a lesser version of Ivan. And eventually, they had turned something broken and cracked into a real family. Whenever proof of that was shown to him, he was grateful that despite everything trying to drive them all apart, he could have this now.
"You hold Toris like that much longer, he's gonna turn purple," Raivis deadpanned. Feliks chuckled and pulled Toris back up, steadying him as the blood rushed back to his head. "Toris, we need to go right? We told Alfred and Arthur we'd meet them as they landed."
Toris smiled at Raivis and nodded. "We did tell them that."
"Well, it'll take like twenty minutes to get into town and then another to get to the train station!"
Toris raised his brow at Feliks, who rolled his eyes and ruffled Raivis' hair. Raivis had passed them both in height now, so it didn't quite have the same effect it did when he'd been younger, but Feliks was undeterred. "Ugh, fine, let's go. You know he totally gets this dumb punctuality from you, right?"
"Oh, I know," Toris teased, pressing a kiss to Feliks' cheek before following after Raivis, who had already gotten on his bicycle and was riding away. "Let him be excited. He's grateful to Alfred and Arthur for financing the orphanage and just wants to make a good impression."
Feliks rolled his eyes again but didn't argue as he got on his own bicycle alongside Toris, and they followed Raivis towards the city.
A year ago, Raivis shared how easy it had been for Ivan to find him and take him due to the death of his parents in Ruthenia. He may have been Talentborn, but that made no difference to a city and country with too many mouths to feed and not enough resources to go around. Ivan hardly had to promise much of anything to the Ruthenians to tempt them to his cause. And he certainly didn't need to do much to snatch a scared, quiet boy with no one off the government's hands. One somewhat insulting payment later, and Raivis was Ivan's at the tender age of ten, his Talent taken from him not long after. Raivis was determined to not let that happen to anyone else, even if Ivan was quietly rotting in some specialized Talentborn prison. There were still people in the world who would take advantage of orphaned children. And that problem was still so prevalent in Ruthenia.
Ruthenia was still struggling. A few years of fertile crops and sunshine was not enough to combat centuries of hardship and corrupt politics that plagued the country. There were plenty of children like Raivis who needed help and he was determined to make it happen. Which was where his idea for a private orphanage was born. Raivis had spent the better part of a year working through the logistics and securing private support from both within Leituvos and throughout Avrupa. Alfred and Arthur had been among his first benefactors and without their support, Toris wasn't sure Raivis would have had the confidence to continue.
Well, that, and the airship Alfred had promised him so he could cross the KauKhasis Mountains and reach Ruthenia easier didn't hurt. Especially as that would mean he didn't have to travel by carriage through the Wilde.
Which was why he and Arthur were visiting today, to bring Raivis his airship, newly completed in the Lotharingia airship hangar. There were technically also visiting to see what their investment had built, but Toris knew neither of them really cared about that—they believed in what Raivis was doing and that was enough for them. The last letter Alfred had sent had almost been illegible from how excited he had been while writing it. Toris was grateful Arthur had included his own letter along with Alfred's, which had been infinitely easier to decipher. Even though neither of them had met Eduard, they were both honored to be part of the Eduard von Bock Home for Displaced Youths.
Toris smiled as they rode their cycles towards the train station where the beginnings of an airship field had been built, the whisper of new dreams and futures buzzing in his ears.
And he knew, deep in his bones, that if Eduard could see them all now, he would smile.
"No," Nikolai said calmly.
"Oh come on!" Oskar complained, spinning around Nikolai in a mini whirlwind, eyes bright and eager. "It's way better than when I spin you up in the air! I promise, you won't get sick."
"There is no possible way you can promise that." Nikolai replied, still unmoved. "I am perfectly content on the sea, thank you."
"But it takes so much longer to get anywhere that way!"
"Well, I am not in as much of a hurry to get somewhere as you, Oskar."
Tino smiled at the pair of them as they argued in his garden. Matthias had long given up on intervening with this argument between the pair of them. He was off to the side, sparring with Berwald, an uncharacteristic smile on his face. Berwald looked like he might be enjoying the bout as well. Tino still vowed to keep an eye on it incase a rogue fireball or iceball went off course and destroyed his bellflowers again.
It was nice to have all of them together again, he thought somewhat wistfully.
With the Barrens gone, replaced now by the much more stable land that had been renamed the Wilde, they each had taken advantage of being not quite so tied to the Nords forest to protect against the corrupted magic. They all loved their homeland, but there was so much of the world to explore, and they found themselves curious. But none so much as Oskar, who took to flying with Alfred and Arthur whenever he had the opportunity, so eager to explore the world.
Matthias had joined a few times himself, and even Tino and Berwald had joined for a brief trip. But not Nikolai, whose dislike of flying had not abated and now included riding on airships. Oskar had never been more disappointed in Nikolai before in his life and was vocal about it.
"Tino!" Oskar's voice caught him, and he turned towards the youngest of their number. "Will you please tell Nik he's being completely unreasonable about this?"
"I think you should respect Nikolai's boundaries," Tino said instead.
Oskar scoffed. "I knew I should have asked Matthias."
"Go on then," Nikolai said, a small quirk to his lips. "Go ask Matthias to side with you. See how far you get with that."
"You're impossible," Oskar grumbled as he glided away to interject himself in the match between Matthias and Berwald.
Tino walked up next to Nikolai. "You know he misses you when he goes off with Alfred and Arthur. That's why he wants to join."
"I know," Nikolai agreed. "But this way, he has a reason to come back."
"He will always come back, Nik," Tino said softly. "Even if the stretches in between grow longer."
"Perhaps," Nik equivocated, though his eyes told a different story. "Regardless, I abhor flying."
Tino chuckled and turned back to his gardening, determined to not let Nik's dour attitude or his own sadness at Oskar growing up clutter up his thoughts. Instead, he reveled in the clean, placid flow of the Balance he felt in the earth as he buried his hands in deep.
Matthew watched the stars start to twinkle and become visible from the deck of the Liberty. He felt especially maudlin tonight after he watched Ludwig and Feliciano celebrate some type of anniversary. He wasn't sure which one it was, and he was pretty sure they were a bit murky on the details themselves what with Feli being addled for so many years, but that didn't matter.
It still hurt a little to watch them celebrate their bonding and love so soon after he and Alejandro had ended.
Their split had been amicable, as they were too close of friends and had gone through too much together for anything else. But somewhere along the way, they had stopped loving each other in anything beyond friendship. Matthew knew it, he did, but it still hurt to be told it by Alejandro the night they decided to break up. He still had not wanted to believe it, clinging to the remnants of what they had once been even if his heart knew the truth. He was still clinging, or perhaps he was still wanting. It was hard to tell.
He met Alejandro when he was sixteen and had just lost his Talent. He was twenty-five now, had gone through things his sixteen-year-old self would never have imagined he would experience. Along the way of growing up, he and Alejandro had grown apart. It happened; he knew that. Not everyone met the love of their life on the first try like Alfred, but it still didn't feel great to watch Ludwig and Feliciano, so happy and in love, a month after Alejandro had moved out and headed back home to the Low Lands.
Alfred had offered to beat up Alejandro for Matthew in an effort to make Matthew laugh (which hadn't worked) and then offered him a trip away on the airship (which had worked better). He and Arthur were headed to Spandow to pick up some of their friends for a little vacation across the Medii to Grecia, and Alfred had said the change in scenery might help. Matthew had agreed, even when Arthur had wisely told him that the trip was doubling as an anniversary present to Ludwig and Feli, warning him as kindly as he could what to expect. He agreed because at least he wouldn't be stuck in his house, surrounded by memories of him and Alejandro and times when he was happy.
Everyone had been great, because of course they had been, but watching Ludwig and Feli had hit him harder than he had expected. He hadn't wanted to bring anyone down with his mood, so he'd come up to the deck for some fresh air. However, feeling sorry for himself on the deck of the airship was not much better then feeling sorry for himself inside. He smiled ruefully up at the night sky and wondered who would come out to look for him first.
"You about done with the lovebirds too?"
Gilbert—huh. Matthew had not expected that.
Matthew turned as Gilbert joined him, a scowl on his face as he settle beside him. Matthew shook his head and adjusted his glasses from where they had slipped down his nose. "No, I'm just—I just wanted some fresh air."
The lie sounded terrible out loud and Gilbert agreed with that assessment, if his scoff was any indication. But, as this was Gilbert, he went ahead and let Matthew know out loud too. "You Jones boys can't lie worth a damn. All that humble farm upbringing, it made you to fucking honest."
"Well, maybe, but I'm not—they're happy," Matthew explained with a frown. "And they should be. It's not their fault I just ended my relationship."
"Yeah, heard about that," Gilbert said. He leaned back against the railing, the wind from the night sky blowing it back.
When Gilbert didn't say anything else, Matthew leaned on his forearms next to him, deciding if there was anyone on this ship who might know what he was feeling and working through, it was Gilbert. "I loved him, but it just—we were happy, and it wasn't his fault. Or mine. We just changed. But it's still—awful. And I miss him, and what we had."
"Shit happens, I get it."
"Yeah."
"I'm sure having the most cliché of love stories playing out next door to you doesn't help," Gilbert grumbled. "Your brother and Eyebrows are sickening."
Matthew chuckled. "You guys only see them in small doses now. And, I'm not sure what you saw on the Evangeline was a true representation, not with it all adventure and drama all the time. They're really not that bad."
He paused and decided to keep going; the honesty felt refreshing. Gilbert offered nothing but himself in return; after his friends and family (Alfred mostly) bending over backwards to make him feel better, his brand of honesty was nice. "I don't find them annoying. I guess what does hurt about seeing them sometimes is they remind me of what I want. Of what I had fooled myself into thinking I had with Alejandro but, deep down, knew I didn't."
"What?" Gilbert sneered. "Swooning and moon-eyes?"
"Something real and tested," Matthew returned calmly. "Someone I could grow old with. Al found that in Arthur, you can tell just by looking at them. If anything, I guess that's what I find most annoying about them. The surety they have, even when they're fighting or avoiding each other or pissed at the other, it always feels temporary. Like, they are each other's eye in the storm, you know. You look at them and know, no matter what gets thrown their way, they'll find each other again.
"So, when I look at them, I find myself wanting what they found. And it hurts that Alejandro and I weren't that. But I still want it, just as much as I miss him."
Gilbert huffed. Then he turned his head and looked down at Matthew, his eyes appraising. "You're a lot smarter than you brother, you know that?"
Matthew chuckled. "Just on some things. He did revolutionize travel."
"He had Eyebrows helping him with that," Gilbert waved off. "Which, let me tell you, it's fucking weird to watch him with that Talent of his now. He looks like he's debating with furniture and objects when he's commanding stuff."
"Well, he's not commanding it anymore," Matthew said. "He's persuading things to do what he wants. You should have seen Alfred's face when Arthur first told him. I thought he was having a seizure. Kept mumbling about stupid Fey being cryptic and nearly got Arthur in the face with the orange juice he snorted out his nose."
Gilbert laughed and Matthew felt a real smile stretch across his face at the sight, appreciating Gilbert's roguishly handsome face as it softened with genuine good humor. They stayed outside the rest of the night and well into morning, trading stories and smiling all the while.
When the sun started to creep over the horizon, heralding in a new day, Matthew didn't feel the least bit tired.
Kiku felt a sense of accomplishment as he watched his friends and Germanian officials root out some of the last major players of the Circle.
The Red Garter brothel had been central to their operations and after years of work, it had finally been exposed as the front it was and brought to justice. Kiku smiled as he watched his friends help victims find their way to support services established for recovery and dragging out slavers in equal turns. He had watched the Circle fester, like a sickness, in Spandow for many years and watching the house be gutted felt like finally cauterizing an open wound so it could heal.
He chuckled to himself at the analogy he'd created in his head—despite some of his best efforts, it seemed he had inherited Yao-sama's penchant for similes and metaphors.
This effort had not been easy, though. They had to fight every step of the way to make this happen.
Even with the evidence the former-Evangeline crew had from infiltrating years ago, and even with the records Feliks had kept when he had posed as a merchant within the organization, Spandow and Germanian officials had not been keen to tackle the trafficking problem. Kiku knew this was because prominent and powerful people were part of it, in the government itself in some cases. Those who held the most power would always be the first ones to prey upon the weak. Toppling down the Circle meant some of their power, and pockets, would become lighter as well.
It had actually been because of Alfred they had any progress. With the advent of airships, Germania had wanted to commission the same deal Alfred had struck with Lotharingia, especially as the steam-powered railway had not expanded into Germania. Alfred had refused to do so unless the Germanic government made efforts against culling the trafficking operations and slave trade that existed. After several months of dealing with an exceedingly stubborn Alfred and watching him commission airships for both Leituvos and Gaul, Germania had finally agreed to cooperate.
Alfred had told them it was just exercising good business practices. Arthur had ruthlessly called it justifiable extortion and had promised that if they did not uphold their end of the deal, they'd have to deal with him. Kiku knew that Arthur's Talent was not so far-reaching and powerful as it had once been, but most of the world did not know this, including the Germanian and Spandow officials. Arthur Kirkland's renown had not abated much in the past few years, and he used it to his advantage when needed.
"Good riddance," he spoke up from beside Kiku, voice dark and brows furrowed as he watched the captured slavers and owners be dragged away. "Took too bloody long for this to happen."
Kiku hummed in agreement and watched as Alfred carried two rather larger owners on his own, holding one immobilized in each of his arms. Gilbert and Ludwig trailed after him, each with their own prisoner. Seychelles was coordinating with some officials, Rosa with her and using her Talent to determine who among the victims and criminals alike had Talents. Talentborn prisoners were hauled away by Basch, who was liaising for the same council of sorcerers whom Yao had left Ivan with, and the victims were ushered away by Esther for specialized services unique to Talent abuse.
Lily and Asmin, both newly turned seventeen and wanting desperately to help, were sitting with Matthew and a group of non-Talentborn victims, who made up the majority of the victims by far in comparison. They were newly liberated and most unsure what to do now. Lily was a calming presence with them and Asmin helped sort out who had the darkest thoughts, which both effortlessly helped Matthew aid them with his empathy.
Others were helping elsewhere as well.
Feliks and Toris had journeyed down from Leituvos with Raivis in his airship, aptly named the Eduard, and were coordinating with known families of victims, helping reunite those taken back with their loved ones. Toris had also coordinated a healing tent for those who needed it. Raivis used his Talent to help people return home swiftly via portals. Both Feliciano and Romano were working with Roma officials who were sympathetic to the issue, to help identify Circle activities in Roma based on what they had discovered in Spandow. Antonio was running a halfway house for those who did not have any family or friends and needed time to acclimate and adjust. Elizaveta and Roderich were not present, but they had donated funds to nearly all the services set up and had set up a more permanent facility for those who needed help beyond Antonio's home.
Even Alejandro had shown up to help, despite the awkwardness between him and Matthew.
They had not all been together like this since Alfred and Arthur had gotten bonded on that first anniversary following Ivan's defeat. Kiku could not imagine a more worthy cause to bring them all back together again, no matter how briefly.
Kiku watched as Gilbert shoved off his prisoner to waiting officials and jog over to Matthew, a slight grin on his face as Matthew turned and lit up at his approach. Kiku watched them interact with each other and with the freed slaves and smiled as he watched what appeared to be the beginnings of new love blossom. One that he could honestly say he had not expected.
"How long as that…?" Kiku trailed off, gesturing towards the pair of them.
Arthur followed his gesture and groaned, rolling his eyes. "Too bloody long. It's driving me mad. Well, more Alfred is driving me mad about Gilbert having a 'thing' for his little brother but doing fuck all about it. I told him they are both adults, and while I do not understand Matthew's interest in an utter wanker like Gilbert, it's up to him and Gil to do something about it."
"I am sure Alfred-san heeded that advice," Kiku chuckled. Arthur let out a bark of laughter and shook his head, eyes going over to his husband fondly.
After a beat of comfortable silence, Kiku asked the real question he had been wanting to ask Arthur. The question he felt Arthur needed to be asked. "Did anyone take up the offer?"
Arthur had done most of the heavy lifting at the onset of this operation. He had reached out with his Voice and convinced much of the décor to 'come alive' and start frightening the slavers and owners, so they scurried out of their different hideaways throughout the city. Alfred had shivered as he had watched, said it felt too much like real ghosts. However, through these concentrated efforts, enough of the slavers and low-level owners were frightened enough by Arthur to give needed information to raid the Red Garter at the right time, when the most prominent members of the Circle would be present.
"Not yet," Arthur answered. "I admit, I am hoping no one does. Even with their consent it's—I don't like using my Voice that way."
"Understandable," Kiku said. "It was still kind of you to offer to those who do not wish to keep these memories, to help them lock them away and forget so they could move forward with a blank slate."
Arthur hummed, not sounding as convinced as Kiku was about the kindness.
"What did you say to them, when you offered?"
Arthur was quiet at first, his eyes distant in the way they got when he recalled something painful. Or someone. "I told them that if they truly wanted to forget, I would assist, and there was no shame in the request. I—I told them I had made a promise to a friend to not waste what I could do, not if it could help. And if forgetting this life would help them, I would."
Arthur sniffed and tilted his head back, eyes trained on the clear sky. "Not sure this was quite what he meant, when he demanded his promise from me."
"Oh, I would not be so sure," Kiku murmured. "Sadiq lived his life by a strict code to help those who could not help themselves, before his cousin was taken from him. I imagine this would fall exactly into what he asked of you, in giving his life so you could live yours."
Arthur hummed again, a bit less noncommittal, and gave Kiku a small smile. "If you say so."
Kiku returned the smile and turned back to the scene before him, the wound already closing as he watched the rescued rejoice and the wicked be hauled away, only to be remembered by the pages of history as a bad dream.
"I do."
Natalia wandered around Moskva, taking in the sights of battered buildings and even more battered people trading in an open-air market that had been established recently. Merchants were selling grain and wheat that wasn't mealy, produce that was not spoiled, and linen from cotton plants not seen in Ruthenia for centuries. People even had the means to buy goods, in most cases, she found.
She briefly wondered what Oksana would say about the sight of this. She would probably say that Brother Ivan's Vision had come about, but not in the way they expected. Probably something else about fate.
Natalia did not agree. Nothing about this was fate.
It was cheated destiny.
She did not know where Brother Ivan was being kept. Captured. Kept from his greatness. She had not seen him since that horrible night she had been captured and then compelled by that fiend Kirkland to follow Oksana's orders.
That traitorous slag, she had betrayed Brother Ivan and all he stood for. And then she had the gall to believe that Natalia would forgive her.
No.
Never.
She was glad to be rid of Oksana and all her hurt and tearful looks. Let her rot in this 'new' Ruthenia and all its mediocrity. Natalia knew what should have been. What could have been. What had been, until that filthy, unworthy monster ruined everything.
She did not know where Brother Ivan was, but she would not stop searching for him. Oksana had 'freed' her from the compulsion she had been placed just under a year ago. She had foolishly believed that Natalia had accepted their lot in life, and she was 'happy' to be with Oksana.
How wrong she had been.
And now, Natalia would spend the rest of her days searching if she had to. That, and doing what she could to continue his great work.
She turned her back on the market and watched as an airship flew over her head, sneering as it passed.
"—and it's not like I can just tell him to go and fucking talk to him, Liz, because he's the most stubborn jackass ever and Mattie made me promise not to do anything, but I can tell he's disappointed and I just want him to be happy after Alejandro went and fucked off—"
Elizaveta watched Alfred pace all up and down her azaleas, trying her best not to laugh at him. Arthur had practically dumped Alfred on her doorstep after they'd arrived and rushed off in a huff. He had grumbled about how he couldn't listen to Alfred anymore and for Liz to do something. Alfred hadn't even noticed that Arthur had left, unloading everything on her the minute they'd gotten done with their hugs hello. Roderich, the coward, had followed Arthur's lead and made himself scarce as well. Not that she could really blame him—Alfred was right and properly worked up.
"—I keep telling Artie I am NOT being over-bearing or meddling or whatever, I just don't want to deal with them anymore! Mattie's at home and mopes, Gil's on the Liberty right now and mopes harder and I just—"
"Al," Elizaveta interrupted, unable to keep the entertained smile off her face. "I hate to take Arthur's side here, but I think you are meddling, just a bit."
Alfred frowned, that boyish pout somehow even more charming on his grown face. "Liz, not you too!"
"Sorry," she chuckled. As his pout grew, she held up her hands, placating. "All right, all right, stop with the kicked puppy face! Hells, I have no idea how Arthur ever wins against that. Listen, Gilbert is—he's complicated you know? Take it from me, intimacy is hard for him and he's—you remember what an absolute jackass he was when he was attracted to Basch and tried to woo him into sex? He's even worse when there are actual feelings involved."
"Yeah but…Mattie really likes him," Alfred groused, sitting down heavily next to her. "And Gil likes him. I've heard the drunken rant about how 'enchanting' he finds my brother. Believe me, I will never be able to wipe those images from my brain. I just don't get why they can't—I don't know, figure it out?"
Elizaveta tutted and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. "Not everyone works the way you think they should. Did you and Arthur just 'figure it out?'"
"Yes!"
"Oh please, Al," Elizaveta exclaimed, laughing as his ears turned red. "You did not! You fought and had misunderstandings and awkwardly avoided each other. For goodness sake, you each tried to sacrifice themselves for the other! Gilbert is not the only one who rants while drunk—Arthur has got quite the mouth on him, especially now that we can all hear him."
"You're not wrong," Alfred snickered. "And yeah, okay, I guess it wasn't always easy—but we had a whole mess of shit happening at the same time. I guess I just—I just want them to be happy, you know? And if one of them got their head out of their ass, I think they could be."
Elizaveta took in his dejected form, silently appreciating how Arthur dealt with this on a constant basis, before she sighed heavily. She was one hundred percent sure she was going to regret what she was about to offer. "I guess I could…talk to Gil. Myself. See if maybe—"
"That'd be awesome, Liz!" Alfred shouted, hugging her tight enough for her to go breathless for a moment. "I know things can be weird, but he still listens to you!"
Feeling distinctly like she'd been hustled, that was how she found herself on the deck of the docked Liberty, watching Oskar flitting about the tied down sails and Rosa showing Asmin how to tie knots. Rosa nodded at her briefly tilting her head down into the pit before turning her attention back to her adopted daughter. Elizaveta nodded in thanks and headed inside into the enclosed pit where she found Gilbert, fiddling with some of the controls for the airship. She cleared her throat to get his attention, smirking when he startled and nearly fell off his chair.
He glared at her when he turned around. "Always terrible to see you, Lizzy. You get lost on the way to some fancy party dear Roddy is invited to?"
"Always the charmer, Gilly," Elizaveta shot back. She smoothed down her dress and took a seat, leveling him with a look. "You know, you try to hard to be unlikeable. We can always see right through the act."
"Oh, can you?" Gilbert snorted, turning away from her and going back to whatever it was he was doing with the controls. Elizaveta honestly had no idea—it was a whole mess of wires and electricity, like what powered Spandow now that the Vargas twins were whole, and she honestly had no idea how Alfred had invented something so extraordinarily complex.
"Yes," she said back, simply. "I came here to talk to you about Matthew. And how you're being a complete idiot, per usual."
Gilbert snorted and shot her a dark look over his shoulder. "You're gonna give me advice on who I fuck? That's rich—isn't that against the rules for the bitter ex?"
"I'm not the bitter ex between the two of us Gil," Elizaveta shot back confidently. She smiled when he didn't refute her. "And I'm here to give you advice on how pull your head out of your ass and actually try something real with Matthew. Because clearly, you're too chicken shit to do anything on your own, also per usual."
Gilbert stopped working on the controls and turned, facing her head on. "It's not any of your business, Liz."
"Probably not," she conceded. "But I'm a nosy, insufferable busy body, remember? So come on, let's have it. Why are you moping on an airship hundreds of miles away from Matthew Jones when it's clear to everyone with eyes you two are head-over-heels for one another?"
"You are the fucking worst, Lizzy, and full of shit," Gilbert sneered. "You haven't even seen us together. And I am not moping!"
"Fine, brooding. Does that not offend your masculine sensibilities as much?"
"Ugh!" Gilbert ran a frustrated hand through his hair and glanced to see if he could sneak around and out the door. She gave him an unimpressed look that dared him to try. "Why do you even give a shit? I thought you liked me miserable and alone?"
"Maybe once, when I was still hurting," she agreed. "And maybe sometimes when you're a dick, but I still want you to be happy, Gilbert. I still care about you, you know. We all do, even if you think you don't deserve it for whatever reason you've convinced yourself. And by the sound of it, so does Matthew."
He was quiet, just staring at her, before he seemed to sag like a deflated balloon and sat down next to her, shoulders drooping and looking about as pathetically adorable as Alfred had earlier.
"I'll just fuck it up, Liz," he said, so sure. "Mattie is—he's just so damn good, you know? And he's tough as nails, after what he went through, and he still is so damn brave, and kind and I know I'll just fuck it all up and then I won't have him at all."
"You don't know that Gil," she replied.
"Yes, I fucking do, look at what I did to us!" Gilbert yelled.
Elizaveta made a dissenting noise and shook her head. "Gil, that wasn't just you. That was both of us, both of us making choices that made me realize that no matter how we felt for one another, we had an expiration date. That was why I ended it, not because you 'ruined' us."
Gilbert was quiet so she took his hand gently and continued, feeling as if she was airing her own ghosts in addition to helping Gil. "We didn't work. Maybe, if we had met differently, or done things differently, maybe we could have. Maybe we still wouldn't have lasted. But just because this didn't work, doesn't mean something else won't. That someone else won't. You have to take that chance though, knowing no one can ever guarantee the future, not even Francis. Knowing that it could fail because what if it doesn't? Doesn't that make you work that much harder to make it work? Isn't that the whole point?"
She squeezed his hand once more before she got up, patting his shoulder affectionately once more before giving him space to think about what she'd given him. Before she left, she turned back and called his name. "For the record, I think Matthew knows all of this history and all of your faults too—if he still wants to the two of you a shot, don't you owe it to both of you to try?"
She left then, leaving him to mull over her words. She felt the sun warm up her face as she walked back home, flowers blooming in the planters in her wake.
This was fucking insane.
What the actual fuck was he doing? He was going to make a complete ass out of himself, that's what. Stupid fucking Elizaveta Héderváry-Edelstein and her stupid fucking advice!
Gilbert could almost feel himself shaking as he walked up the porch steps to the simple, white-washed house. Maybe he was. He sort of felt numb and manic at the same time, like he was about to lay down just to avoid this and vibrating out of his skin with excitement at the same time.
Or maybe it was all just nausea, who the fuck knew.
He reached the door and knew that was it.
Now or never.
Be brave or be a fucking coward about it.
He took a deep, steeling breath and let it out as he knocked. Gilbert Beilschmidt was a fearless fucker who had helped save the damn world. He could do this.
Matthew opened the door, blinking at him in confusion, no doubt wondering what the hell Gilbert was doing on his porch when last he'd been told, Gilbert was gonna be gone for at least a month with the Liberty. That could still hold true; Alfred and Arthur and the rest of them and swung back to Columbiana on a detour at his request (begging may have been involved, whatever). Gilbert was just hoping he wasn't going back alone.
"Gil? What are you doing here? I thought—mmphh!"
Gilbert was not one to waste time. He was a man of action, and he knew if he tried to try and explain why the fuck he was here, he'd mess it up. So, instead, he leaned into Matthew's space and laid one on him, kissing him quiet. Matthew's surprise was muffled between them for like a second and then his arms were coming up around Gilbert's shoulders and pulling him in closer as he kissed him back. Fucking kissed him back, with a smile pressing hard into Gilbert's mouth.
Gilbert pulled back and met Matthew's purpley-blue eyes and gave him his most self-assured, swaggering smile he had. "Hi."
Matthew laughed and leaned back in, whispering one words against his lips before kissing him again. "Hi."
No one word had ever sound so fucking good to Gilbert in all his life.
Yao looked up at the stronghold and wondered if his visits here did more harm than good. Maybe it was selfish of him to keep visiting a man who had made it clear he was uninterested in seeing Yao. Perhaps it was even cruel. Still, he could not seem to stop.
His heart would not let him.
He sighed and continued to his horse and cart. He still preferred the old ways of transportation, even with the innovation happening in the world. As he mounted himself, he rolled his scarred shoulder, grimacing at the soreness and the pull.
It always seemed to hurt worse after seeing Ivan. He was sure it was mostly in his head.
He departed the stronghold of his fellow mages and sorcerers and headed back east, back home, heart conflicted as he felt Ivan's presence dim until it was out of reach. It had been a long time since he returned to his ancestral home—perhaps a change in scenery would help heal old wounds that lingered on his soul. Ivan had not thought so—he had called Yao an old fool for believing he would find peace, but while he may be correct, he was also projecting.
It was hard for him to accept that for all his machinations and efforts, he had been unsuccessful in restoring Ruthenia. That someone else had and had done so cleanly and without loss of life. Yao knew Ivan had regrets for some of his choices, even if he didn't speak them aloud. What he had been willing to do. Who he had been willing to lose.
Yao forgave him for the vitriol that Ivan spewed at him whenever his sense of failure overwhelmed him. He wished Ivan would believe him when he told him that everything Ivan had done had brought about peace for Ruthenia, though perhaps not in the way he anticipated. If Ivan had not made it his life's goal to destroy the Balance, Arthur Kirkland would not have been born with the Talent he'd had. But perhaps the loss was still too near and his captivity still to fresh. Perhaps it would always be—Yao could only continue to express his beliefs and hope that one day, Ivan would hear them.
"Elder Yao!"
He turned and saw several Fey had joined him on his caravan, mostly fairies, but some sprites flitted in close. A pair of centaurs sidled up next to his horse as well, faces solemn, bearing livery of a royal escort. He was sure there were more in the woods around them, watching him with their brethren. He smiled and focused on the Fey who had called for him, a fairie with blue wings and dark hair. He recognized her and bowed his head deferentially.
"Your highness," he greeted. "You honor me with your presence."
"Please, call me Maribel, Elder Yao!" She chimed back, a smile on her face. "We are not at Court."
"As you please, Maribel. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
She glanced behind him, at where he'd come from, before fixing him with a look. "I hope you are not planning anything that would spoil all our hard work."
Yao wondered for a moment at what she could mean when it dawned on him. Like lightning. "It was you who made the deal with Arthur Kirkland."
She nodded. "Of course. A deal of such importance and magnitude could not have been made by just any Fey. My mother even thought of doing it herself, but she worried her identity would be discovered and things would not unfold as needed. I am still new and going through my trials—the Deal struck did help support my claim for the throne with the Court over my other siblings and cousins, though."
Yao felt blindsided, something he was not used to anymore. A potential future Fairie Queen had been the one to make the deal with Arthur Kirkland in the Market those years ago. How remarkable, the many twists and turns the Balance took sometimes. She frowned at him and smacked at his nose with her tiny fist. "My apologies, Maribel, I am simply…surprised. I knew of the deal, not who was involved."
"Well now you do. And you should know, we will not tolerate any chance of Ivan Braginski being set free. We struck a Deal, and it was fulfilled and honored. We will do what is necessary to protect our own, which includes Sir Arthur and his bonded."
Yao nodded, placing a hand over his heart. "I swear on the Balance, your Highness, I have no intention of setting Ivan free. I was the one who brought him to be kept here."
"Yes, after unleashing him on the world."
"As you say."
She gave him a look that made him smile. "As long as you keep your word, Elder Yao, you will have no quarrel with the Fey."
"Thank you. I will remember."
She nodded, smiling brightly before blinking away, taking her fellows with her and leaving Yao alone once more. He smiled and let out a quiet laugh, looking skyward as he marveled at how the Balance works its ways.
"Did you always know, or just hope for the best?"
Yao did not expect an answer, but the warm breeze that blew past him gave him one, nonetheless.
"Artie! Can you pass me that wrench? No, not that one, the other one, the one with the, yeah, yeah that one!"
Arthur did as asked and handed Alfred his desired tool. "Do you need me to—?"
"Nah, I got it, we'll be on our way in two shakes! Go on, I'll be right out!"
Arthur pressed his hand against Alfred's knee, the most appropriate part of him he could reach while he was buried under their navigation panel, before heading back out to the deck. He nodded at their current crew make-up before he leaned against one of the railing and admired the ocean in the setting sun. In the distance, a speck of green called to him, drawing his eyes inexorably from the calm, golden waves to their destination in the distance. A beacon and a burden.
Britannia.
Even now, less than a night's flight out, Arthur still was not sure how to feel. Excited? Trepidation? Nauseous? A horrible mixture of all three plus countless other emotions? He took in a deep breath and exhaled, wondering if he'd sort himself out before the reached Londonium. Most likely not, he thought to himself.
The airship shuddered as the engines kicked back into their normal flight pattern, switching over from the gentle hover Alfred had put them in as he fixed the powerline to their water systems. The Liberty began her journey forward again, moving steadily with the air currents and blowing Arthur's hair back from his face. He felt Alfred's arms around his waist before he heard him. He smiled at him and leaned into his hold.
"Who's flying?"
"Oskar. He's getting pretty good. Might need to promote him to co-pilot."
"Mmm, he'd like that," Arthur said, distractedly. "Though Nik may have some opinions on that."
"Anxious?" Alfred asked, not falling into the diversion Arthur had attempted. The word was pressed into his temple, warm and comforting.
"Whatever gave me away?" Arthur teased back in an attempt to lighten his nerves.
"Nothing, I just know you," Alfred said. "We don't have to, you know. If you want to turnaround, we can. Head back home for a little bit. Or maybe head south, explore someplace new."
"No," he said, firm. "Londonium officials reached out to you personally, to both of us, knowing we are Talentborn. This is—huge. It could be huge for everyone like us in Britannia. We owe it to them to try."
Alfred nodded and turned Arthur in his arms, so they were facing each other. "Yeah. Still, they can wait. Or we can make them come to us if you want. The hangar in Bruxels can only build so fast. These guys are gonna have to wait for airships anyway."
"Do you want to turn back?"
"No! No, it's just—they chased you out with pitchforks last time!"
Arthur smiled. "That was ten years ago, love. I was a different person. I think so were they—they've listened to the stories, experienced the earthquakes, had no choice but to hear that while magic had caused the disruptions, it was also magic that saved them. I think this may be it, their turning point. And if not, if pitchforks await us, I have confidence in our ability to overcome them."
"That is true—they probably still think you can flatten them all with a word!"
Arthur grinned and didn't disagree. His Talent may not be what it once was, but not many knew that. It was a useful reputation to have, the powerful Arthur Kirkland with the Voice who 'commanded' the Balance and the Barrens to peace. Personally, Arthur was glad that was in reputation only now, and that his Voice had resurfaced, changed and not nearly so mighty. The burden of responsibility he had once felt carrying something so immense had lessened.
He felt, well, balanced, for lack of a better word.
"We've caught a good heading!" Oskar's voice echoed out from the pit. "Maybe another two hours and we'll be there!"
"Ok, this is it," Alfred offered, that same boyish kindness in his eyes that Arthur remembered looking down at him in a cell what felt like a lifetime ago. In some ways, it was. "Last chance to turn around."
"Are you sure you're not just projecting your own anxiety over meeting my brothers?" Arthur asked, brow arched at the telltale red of his ears. "You have a Talent that literally gives you super strength!"
"So?! You're still their baby brother! I don't want them to beat me into submission with a combined eyebrow glare!"
"Only one of them meeting us is older. Peter is younger, so belt up you wanker!" Arthur said, laughing helplessly.
And there on the deck, in the soft, golden light of the setting sun, Alfred leaned in and kissed him to try and quell the laughter. Arthur stopped caring about what could or could not happen when they touched down in Britannia. Stopped worrying and agonizing over what he should or shouldn't feel. Instead, he just let himself bask in the knowledge that no matter what happened, he would have this. This life with Alfred and friends and family that was filled with love-filled days.
Some bad days, mostly good days, but most of all, a life full of adventure.
Finis
I'M NOT CRYING, YOU'RE CRYING.
*Varsuva – Lithuanian for Warsaw
*Moskva – taken from the Moskva River which runs through the city of Moscow