This chapter took a lot longer to write than I thought. There were two different versions of the ending, in fact. I wanted to be doubly sure that whatever I wrote sounded right for a certain important character. That said, I get the feeling I should've written the Golden Deer route first.
Also, would be be interested in seeing a side story or a oneshot involving Rolan and another girl? Share your thoughts on that one.
And you know what else is interesting? Everytime I hold a poll for this story the results are always on a knife's edge. There's literally been a couple of votes difference. Too close to call.
Anyway, let get started! If you're enjoying this story feel free to share it with fellow Fire Emblem fans too.
Petra (Black Eagles VI)
If there is one place I view like a second home here in Garreg Mach, it's the training grounds. Here I'm free of all worry and fear. I need not dwell on my choices. The goal is simple from the moment I enter. Fight. Become stronger. Win. I can strive to attain my goals through hard work. That (in my mind) is the greatest honor of all.
Lady Edelgard has given me a chance. When the time comes I'll not prove unworthy.
Sword strike after sword strike. Breath after breath. Slash after slash. The dance of combat works wonders at clearing a cloudy mind. It cleanses the thoughts and invigorates the senses. The afternoon has gone by quicker than usual. I've bested a pair of first year students of the Blue Lions in friendly sparring. Adrenaline swims through my blood with heat akin to flames. I'm alive with vigor and purpose.
"Thank you, both of you." I lower my head in gratitude to the pair of students from the rival house. "A good fight. I hope we can cross swords again soon; maybe before the combat tournament."
The three of us exchange pleasantries for a while longer. The first years depart at the toll of an afternoon bell. I'm left with a practice sword in my hands and plenty of questions. Will the Black Eagles be different to the Golden Deer? They say there's hardly a single commoner among the Adrestian house. Most of them are highborn or related to governors. The son of the Prime Minister is among their number, too. Most of them come from positions of influence.
A stark contrast to the students of the Leicester Alliance. Ignatz is common born; the son of one of our largest trading companies. Raphael also comes from a humble background. Leone is a straightforward and diligent lass from a small village. And then there's me.
"Here's hoping everything goes well..."
I put away my training sword for now. Having being here for a few hours, it's about time I leave and get some rest.
My desire for respite is denied when the doors of the Training Grounds are brought open; the hinges squeak. In the doorway stands a certain somebody who's left quite the lasting impression upon me; an exotic princess of a foreign island nation. I'm made to smile in light of her arrival. A smile born of respect and admiration.
"Hello there Miss Petra." I address Brigid's future leader with yet another bow of the head. "I hope you're well."
Petra's eyes light up, "It is nice to be meeting you again, Rolan. The joy is mine to have."
She pushes the doors shut behind her and joins me in a hurry. There's an intensity about her. "Are you here for the training?"
Her question comes across as polite and hopeful. To say I need a nap is putting matters simply. But I don't want to let Petra down when she so clearly wants to spar. I see it in her eyes; it's like the time we crossed swords during the mock battle of the three houses. I feel a great deal of warmth in the way she speaks with me; a warmth which increases every time we battle.
"Yes. That's right," I answer. "I've the energy for one more round."
We share a mutual nod of understanding; an unwritten agreement of sorts. It was the same when we first crossed paths. Petra and I take up our positions at the centre of the room. I draw my wooden armament and so does she. Now, it could be my imagination, but I swear her cheeks are flushed a soft hue of red. "I have been hoping greatly to fight you again," she says with excitement.
An excitement I likewise share. "Me too."
One foot ahead of the other, I take up my stance. My senses surge as I prepare to once again indulge in the dance of combat. I feel alive with purpose - ready to prove my worth. "Shall we begin, Petra?"
Brigid's future leader smirks, "Yes. I think we should be starting. I will show you the learning of my new skills!"
As usual, Petra is quick to launch an all-out offensive. With a warrior's scream she lunges. I raise my wooden sword to block her first attempt. Swing after swing makes my footing uneasy, but I refuse to back down. Anchoring my feet into the sandy underfoot, I push back against my foe's impressive might. Step by step sees I nudge her in reverse; it's an uphill struggle.
A great many students of the Black Eagle House are spell casters; they're adept in the arts of healing or conjuring fireballs. Far fewer take up a frontline roll. Petra more than makes up for this weakness in their ranks. Miss Byleth regarded me as one of the more skilled swordsman of the Golden Deer, and I'm being pushed to my absolute limit.
Every breath is heavy. My arms burn from excessive exertion. My every attack is matched with equal ferocity. I'm stuck in a deadlock from which I cannot escape. Neither one of us intends to back down.
"You are very able. It is making me pleased," says Petra. Beads of sweat crawl down her forehead. She gives a stiff exhale and puts all of her weight behind our exchange. My legs ache under the strain. "I find joyfulness in knowing you will join our house."
"Makes two of us," I grunt. "Not many match you in a fight."
A woman of her calibre deserves the utmost respect, but that doesn't mean I can lose this scuffle.
In my mind's eye I see both Dorothea and Hilda. They cheer me on from the side-lines. I can't let either of them down. I have to do them proud. I have to win; my success as a future blade of Adrestia depends on sharpening my abilities.
An icy heat rushes over me. I'm invigorated; focused. The heart within my chest pounds at double speed. Like a berserker I'm freed of the chains that bind. An empowered growl slips free of my lips. And with one mighty heave I shove Petra. She skids through the sands. I rush ahead, uncaring of anything but victory. In both a single swing this will end.
"You will not be the winner so easy," the princess declares proudly.
She leaps from my path. I turn to face her as best I can, unable to correct my course in time. What results is a feral but misguided swipe in Petra's general direction. She too throws the weight of her weapon my way. A dull pain grips my side. My eyesight skews. And the next thing I know, I'm falling to my knees.
My fury subsides, washed away by the cooling wind of rationality. I drop my armament. A shaky wheeze falls from my mouth.
Petra towers over me. She slips her sword away and offers a hand. Her uniform is damp with perspiration. Her gaze is kind and considerate. She's so very pleased with herself. "The winning is mine to enjoy this day," she grins.
"It sure is," I exhale. Petra helps me upright. Exhausted from the bout, I brush the sand from the legs of my trousers. "Well done."
Such a simple task proves a chore.
Once my clothes are clean I focus upon Petra. The way she's looking at me is strange. I daresay there's a gentleness about her. It's like she's a different person all of the sudden. Yes, she's still holds a prideful aura of sorts. But there's something more.
Petra inches closer. Her face is beet-red. "I am wanting to tell you something of my feelings." She touches my hand with hers. She's so close; I feel the warmth of her body against mine. "You are a person worthy of the respecting. The more we fight... the more I am thinking about you. It is a feeling of niceness."
It's good to know that she views me in such a positive light. "I feel the same way too. It'd be great if we could be friends, Petra."
My admission earns stony silence. Petra sighs with frustration. She frowns, almost as though she's annoyed. "I do not think you are understanding. Maybe the meaning of my speaking is wrong... Forgive me." Petra withdraws in a hurry. Again there is breathing room between us. "What I mean to say is..." She flounders while attempting to find her place. It's unusual to see her so flustered. "I am wanting be in your company..."
Petra turns her back to me. Her shoulders slump as though there's a weight pressing upon them. She doesn't say another word for the longest time. There's a shift in the air. Suddenly I feel uneasy, nervous even. Part of me wants to reach out and ask what's wrong. But Petra begins walking toward the door before I'm able. My concerns remain trapped and soundless.
Bringing the hefty entranceway to the training grounds wide open, she stalls. And again s sighs. "Dorothea is lucky to share such closeness with you... very lucky." Petra swings on her heels, facing me one last time. She bares a sad smile. With the sunset baring down upon her she appears strangely... pretty. I've never seen her this way until now. "You do not treat me like a foreigner. You are kind. The way of Brigid; my way, is one of fighting and struggle. I think we are of much likeness... I am respecting of strength, and so are you."
Bowing her head, Petra bids me farewell. "I would be liking to sit beside you when you join our classes. My thanks at you, Rolan."
I move to meet her by the door. She's quick to retreat, however. There's so much I've yet to understand about this exotic overseas visitor, and even more I'd like to ask her about. No sooner than I open my mouth however, does she take off in a run. She's halfway down the steps and off in the direction of the dorm rooms before I can so much as find my Barings.
Looking to the orange sunset, I'm assailed with yet more questions.
"What did she mean by her struggle? She's royalty. An honored guest of Adrestia."
Whatever the case, I'll be sure to speak with her more when the time is right. With the day coming to a close, I should head for the bathhouse. First things first, I should collect some soap and a fresh change of clothes from my room. And on my way there, my thoughts again wander to my friend and practice partner. "I do hope you're alright."
Fighting against Petra fills me with a sense of reward. She's diligent toward her studies of combat. It shows in the way the brandishes a weapon. I wonder if all men and women of Brigid are as dedicated. If so, then I'd really like to see her homeland for myself. They say it's warm and humid all year round; tropical, even. Beaches of warm golden sand stretch out across the southern coastline. I've never been to a beach before; I've never been so lucky.
Whatever comes to pass, my choice is made and my path is set. By the end of the week I'll be recognized as a Black Eagle. With such an honor comes chances aplenty to experience different things. Maybe it won't be so hard to visit Brigid for myself one day. Heck, I'd be able to take Dorothea with me too. That sounds like a lovely idea.
Although, thinking of Dorothea makes me dwell on something in particular that Petra said.
"Dorothea is lucky to share such closeness with you. Very lucky..."
"What did you mean by that, Petra?" A question that keeps swirling in my thoughts for hours - even as I pick up my fresh clothes and head in the direction of the bathhouse. "Maybe I mistook her. She has it rough with Fodlan's language after all."
Well... if that is truly the case, I'll have to ask her again sometime. For now? I'll focus on the days ahead. Petra has helped me remain positive in the face of leaving my house behind. I'm grateful for the comfort she's provided, whatever the reason may be.
The bathhouse is a fair walk from the dorms. It's already getting late by the time I arrive. Stars cover the evening sky in a wonderful arrangement; they each twinkle as beacons of hope and wonder. My enjoyment of such a sight does not last long, sadly.
Steam billows forth as the bathhouse doors swing open, and through the screen of misty heat steps Hilda. A soft pink nightgown covers her curves loosely, and a towel keeps her long hair held in place. A pair of frilly cotton ankle socks cover her dainty feet. Our eyes meet. Miss Goneril pained by the very sight of me. A short gasp falls from her mouth. Stillness descends. I'm left speechless and remorseful. "Rolan," the noble girl speaks - more a whisper. "Why?"
Her question splits me in two. "Why?" She repeats. Her eyes quiver the longer she looks at me. "We're friends, right?" Agony laces Hilda's tone of voice. "You're my baker boy... I trusted you with my biggest secret. I thought you cared about me."
I cannot bring myself to lie, "I do care," is my sole defence.
"Then why leave?"
"Because-" My will to speak is gone. The words lodge in my throat.
Hilda totters forward on unsteady legs, resting a finger against my lips. "It's Dorothea. I know it. There's no other reason you'd go."
My stomach squirms. Gripped by guilt, I ease away from the highborn lady. "You're right," I reply. She deserves the truth. "As much as I care for you, I cannot deny where my heart belongs... No more lying. To you... or myself."
My admission earns a wounded smile from Hilda. She wraps her arms around her middle to stave off the nip in the air. She breaks our mutual gaze and looks dejectedly toward her feet. "You might've given up, but I won't - not this time." Tears spill down her cheeks and patter against the smooth stone pathway underfoot. "No way. Not after the days we've spent together."
No matter how much my childhood friend still cares for me, I cannot change my mind. It wouldn't be right. "Part of me will always hold you in high regard. But we can't go on like this. It's not fair to treat you and Dorothea so unfairly... I've made up my mind. I'll stick to it - even if you hate me. That's the way it has to be."
Hilda reaches out and snatches my hand; she squeezes it tight. Our eyes meet again. Her stare is one of searing intensity. "I could never hate you, Rolan." And just like that, Duke Holst's daughter pecks me against the cheek. An instant both fleeting and tragic. My heartbeat skips, and my body heats in the face of her heartfelt gesture. I'm taken aback.
Though no sooner than her lips touch my skin does she step back. Miss Goneril eases away, putting plenty of distance between us both. Her soft pink lips rise into a gesture of kindness, though she looks hurt beyond compare. "Be careful around those Adrestians. You hear me? Rumor has it there's something not quite right about the Black Eagle House... I'd be beside myself if you were hurt."
I turn in pained attempt at stopping Hilda from leaving; my hand rests upon her shoulder. She takes my gesture to heart, throwing her arms around me. If she holds on any tighter it'll be hard to draw air. "You hurt me this morning when you announced you were leaving... but I meant what I said... I won't just ditch you." Breathing deeply, gathering all of the will she has, Hilda lays her towel-wrapped head against my chest. "I'll make you a promise... for old time's sake."
"A promise... You don't need to," I protest. Regardless, I'm brought to silence by yet another finger against my lips.
Hilda nods assertively, "Yep. A promise. I Hilda Valentine Goneril, solemnly swear to protect you in your hour of need. If there ever comes a time where you're suffering; or you're hurt and need help... I'll do my best for you."
How can she be so kind to me after all I've done? "Hilda I- You shouldn't go out of your way for me..."
"Yeah, you're right. I shouldn't," she replies in agreement, "But someone very special taught me not to give up on the people that matter most. I figure I'll follow his example... even if I feel he's making a big mistake by leaving his home behind."
Hilda brushes by, breaking into a run as soon as she's past me. Though faint, there's a weight in my chest. My heartbeat is unsteady at the sight of the fleeing girl. Just short of vanishing from sight, however, Hilda turns around. For but a second she stalls before rounding the corner and leaving me behind, alone.
I turn my attention to the bathhouse, hand upon my aching heart.
"I'm sorry, Hilda, truly I am." I couldn't find the will to be untruthful any longer. As selfish as it makes me, even though we're both bound for separate paths. I will always cherish the moments I've spent in the company of Hilda of House Goneril.
All throughout my time taking a bath I cannot distract my wayward thoughts. Hilda is at the front of most. Our reunion all those weeks ago plays over again and again. Though faint, there's been adoration in the way she's spoken to me from the very beginning. I see it now. In her own laid-back Hilda approach, she was reaching out for me.
Her offering me a chance to serve was truly a chance for companionship.
Her desire to keep me close was out of love, not mere friendship.
And the first kiss we shared was sentimental beyond compare.
Truly, out of all the nobles I've ever met, Hilda is the kindest of them all. She doesn't care about the titles of others. All she's wanted is my support and affection. Something she once said shortly after I promised to stand by her was proof enough of that.
"True... A guy can be handsome and come from a good family, but that doesn't tell you what a person's like on the inside. It's why I like keeping you close, Rolan. You're good looking and I can depend on you."
Praise I'm unworthy of, but praise I'll never forget.
It's going to hurt as I move onward, but I have to accept that. Hilda and I will always care for one-another, even if the roads we walk differ entirely. Our bond is stronger than most. I see that now, in light of the kindness she's shown me.
And that's why I'll hold my head high from this point.
Not just as a future Black Eagle, but as a Golden Deer, too.
To be continued...
There you have it! Another chapter comes to a close. Did you like it? Would you like to see more in future? As always, feel free to leave some feedback and share your thoughts. As always, keep on supporting Fire Emblem and I'll see you in the next chapter.
Thank you as always for the continued support!