27 Then came to him certain of the Sadducees, which deny that there is any resurrection; and they asked him,

28 Saying, Master, Moses wrote unto us, If any man's brother die, having a wife, and he die without children, that his brother should take his wife, and raise up seed unto his brother.

29 There were therefore seven brethren: and the first took a wife, and died without children.

30 And the second took her to wife, and he died childless.

31 And the third took her; and in like manner the seven also: and they left no children, and died.

32 Last of all the woman died also.

33 Therefore in the resurrection whose wife of them is she? for seven had her to wife.

34 And Jesus answering said unto them, The children of this world marry, and are given in marriage:

35 But they which shall be accounted worthy to obtain that world, and the resurrection from the dead, neither marry, nor are given in marriage:

36 Neither can they die any more: for they are equal unto the angels; and are the children of God, being the children of the resurrection.

Luke 20:27-36

Dreams Which Came True

3 N.I.C., aboard the Tristan , en route from Odin to Phezzan

Compared to Kircheis's duties in the conquered rebel territory, Reuenthal's responsibilities administrating the majority of the Imperial heartland were relatively well understood. The machinery of empire, though never clean, ran smooth with all the blood oiling its gears. So it had been a simple matter for him to temporarily turn that administration over to Mecklinger and prepare to return to Phezzan, where more important duties awaited.

He had passengers with him aboard the Tristan , which was unusual, he supposed, though perhaps he should have been pleased that His Majesty had entrusted her into his personal care for so long.

Other people had realized Princess Grunewald's strategic importance to the continuation of the Lohengramm dynasty long before Reinhard had. The first assassination attempt, Reuenthal had allowed himself to be convinced that it was the disgruntled old nobility kicking their last, like a lizard's tail that still twitched in the eagle's beak, the lizard itself long gone. The second had made him doubt that assessment, the third had destroyed it. His Majesty had countless enemies- and all of them had seen the same writing on the wall: His Majesty had no heir, so it would be his sister who would be responsible for the continuation of the dynasty.

Reuenthal was in his office on his flagship, looking out the window, his hands clasped behind his back. It was still another two days to Phezzan, and Reuenthal couldn't decide if the feeling in his chest thinking over their arrival was anticipation or dread. Certainly, there were pleasant things on Phezzan- Mittermeyer- but he had not laid eyes on His Majesty in more than two years.

Reuenthal summoned his aide, a boy named Heinrich, who stood before him with a sharp salute.

"Please ask Princess Grunewald if she would care to join me for dinner," Reuenthal said. Hastily, he added, "Don't invite her whole entourage."

While Princess Grunewald herself was a quiet woman, some of the ladies of the court she kept on Odin were anything but. Only a select few were making the trip with her to Phezzan, but Reuenthal had limited patience for even that small number. Still, it was in his best interest to ensure that the princess did not feel like he was ignoring her throughout their long journey, thus their dinners together every few days.

Heinrich nodded. "Yes, Your Excellency." He left, and Reuenthal returned to looking out the window.

His contact with Princess Grunewald prior to this trip had been rather rare, despite their proximity while on Odin. She lived in His Majesty's personal estate, not Neue Sanssouci, holding a kind of court in that house. There was an understanding that she was a direct line to His Majesty, more direct than the official routes of letters and chains of command, and so when she invited someone to her house to talk, sitting across from them with a cup of tea in her hands, one had the sense that she could make things happen.

Reuenthal had been on the receiving end of one of these invitations twice. The first time, she had asked him for a favor: to quietly intervene in a brewing political scandal involving blackmail and misappropriation of government funds. This had been easy enough- and perhaps it had even been a favor of the Princess's to bring it up to him before it exploded- but it had made him consider that perhaps not every petition that was made to Princess Grunewald was actually making its way to His Majesty's ear. It seemed quite likely that very few of them were, and that the Princess was acting as an independent agent. He kept an eye on her activities, though her court never seemed to do anything that was acting contrary to His Majesty's goals, so he allowed it to continue without mentioning it to Kaiser Reinhard.

The second time she had summoned him was on a personal matter, one that he hadn't even known she was aware of. He had sat stiffly across from her, and she had looked at him with her calm, blank expression and said, "Fleet Admiral, just as you keep watch over me for my brother, it seems as though it has become my responsibility to keep watch over you. It is good that we have a mutual understanding of what my brother does and does not need to be concerned with."

She had made his problem disappear, without anyone being the wiser, though he had sworn to himself that he would never rely on her for something like that again. It had left a bad taste in his mouth.

His aide reported that Princess Grunewald had accepted his invitation, so, at the appointed hour, Reuenthal sat down in his dining room and waited for her to appear. When she did, he stood and bowed. "Princess."

"Fleet Admiral," she said, nodding politely.

Despite knowing that she was a capable actor, there was something in her poise and expression that always tripped Reuenthal up, giving him the impression that she was a beautiful vessel and not a person with a mind. He wondered how many other people had this idea of her, since he was sure it had been carefully cultivated over the years. In the old Empire, she had been nothing but an object; in the new, did she want to be seen as an extension of her brother's will?

The look in her eyes was not vacant, exactly, but it slid over and past Reuenthal, like she was always thinking of something far away. Reuenthal looked at her in his normal, studying way, and since she changed nothing about her posture, he had to assume that she did not mind. Neither of them were talkative people unless there was something of importance to discuss, so the beginning of the meal could have been awkwardly silent, if they had not been having this type of quiet and strange encounter together for the whole month-long journey to Phezzan. If there was one thing he appreciated about Princess Grunewald, it was that she was not inclined to natter , as so many other women were.

Over the soup, Reuenthal finally said, "We're only two days out from Phezzan."

"Are we ahead of schedule?"

"By a day," he said. "I have not been pushing the fleet as hard as I could have."

Her gaze slid towards the painting on the wall behind him: tall ships engaged in a naval battle. "There is no need to rush."

"If His Majesty had said we needed to hurry, I would have been concerned," Reuenthal said.

It had been a deliberate provocation on his end, but Annerose's face stayed perfectly poised. "I have been told there is no need for concern."

"Oh?"

"Have you not been reassured of as much?"

"Princess, Mein Kaiser has always been a man of action, rather than of talk. Surely you understand this."

Her voice, to her credit, did not quaver. "It is clear to me that he thinks there is time."

"Time enough for what?"

"Let's not pretend, Fleet Admiral." She closed her eyes. "I'm sure he thinks he'll live another year, at least."

"But he has given up the idea of getting well."

She looked down at her soup. "You believe it is so."

"Do you not have a clearer window into the mind of your brother than I have into the mind of Mein Kaiser ?"

She met his eyes, then. "None of us can know the mind of another, Fleet Admiral," she said. "I do not know if my brother has ever truly believed that he is mortal."

This was as close to slander as Annerose had ever gotten, and Reuenthal's eyes narrowed a hair. "He may have more of a right to believe that than any other man."

"Even kaisers die," Annerose said. "But he may just believe he is assuaging the concerns that others have."

"And if he does live, Princess, will he have his own child some day in the future?"

She didn't dignify that with a response, and just took a sip of her wine.

"I find it hard to believe that he would go through all this trouble if he thought it was truly preëmptive," Reuenthal said.

It took a moment for Annerose to respond, the silence pregnant. Reuenthal wasn't uncomfortable, but he recognized that there was a push and pull here, one that he was not entirely in control of. "One of the other things my brother understands well is that the lines of succession should not become muddled, if at all possible. A second civil war within a generation would serve no one, and even if he is not here to see it, he would not want what he has built to crumble."

"As you say." There were other reasons, they both understood, that would mean that even a healthy Kaiser Reinhard would not likely have his own child. Perhaps in the distant future he could have been convinced of it, as a matter of necessity, but as things stood, Kaiser Reinhard seemed more likely to rest in his deathbed than his marital one.

They ate in silence for a minute more. "Are you happy to finally set foot on Phezzan?" Reuenthal asked.

"I will be happy to be on the ground," Annerose said. "What ground it is should make no difference, I think."

That hadn't been what he had been asking.

"Are you happy to be returning to Phezzan, Fleet Admiral?"

Not expecting the question, Reuenthal looked up. Annerose's eyes were wide and empty looking. "Why do you ask?"

"You never seemed like a man who enjoyed being on Odin."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"My brother often asked me how you were enjoying your position."

"I enjoy the trust that Mein Kaiser gives me."

She inclined her head. "An honest answer."

"I am not known to lie, Princess."

"Only bad liars are."

His lips twitched in a smile at that, but he stifled it. "I presume if you or he had been unsatisfied with the work that I have been doing on Odin, I would have been recalled long before now."

"Neither of us are dissatisfied," she said. "He asked me late last year if you would prefer to trade duties with Fleet Admiral Mittermeyer, and I requested that you stay on Odin. I apologize for that."

"And why is that?" He tried to keep the surprise out of his voice. He had thought after his personal follies that she would be eager to see him go, especially if it could be done without causing a scandal.

"It was partially out of consideration for Frau Mittermeyer," Annerose said. "I did not think she would appreciate moving planets again so soon. And I admit that I had grown used to the way things were on Odin. I don't like change much, Fleet Admiral."

"The devil you know-"

"Perhaps."

"Things are changing now," he said.

She looked away. "They are."

"I expect you will remain on Phezzan, and I will return to Odin."

"I will remain on Phezzan, but I don't know if you will return to Odin," she said.

"I should have put my affairs more in order if I had known I would be leaving on a permanent basis," he said. "Where do you think I am going to remain, then?"

"Fleet Admiral Kircheis will not be returning to Neue Land. I expect that you will be given his role."

"Oh? And who will take charge of the heartland?"

"If necessary, it can be administrated from Phezzan," she said. "But I am sure that High Admiral Mecklinger would be up to the task on a more permanent basis."

"And Mittermeyer would remain on Phezzan, out of concern for his wife?" he asked, his voice quite dry.

It was her turn to smile slightly. "Out of concern for many things, Fleet Admiral."

"Should I be grateful to know that you are already thinking through staffing?"

"I make no presumptions," she said. "But while I do not know what my brother might be thinking, I know that he is capable of making sound choices. These seem like reasonable ones."

Reuenthal nodded, then fell silent as he finished his meal.

Over dessert, strawberry shortcake, Reuenthal spoke up again. "May I presume to ask a question, Princess?"

"You may ask."

"Forgive me if this is an impertinent question."

"Fleet Admiral, there is little in this life that is capable of offending me anymore; impertinence is the least of my concerns."

"Then I will be frank."

"Please."

"I understand that you have always been close with Fleet Admiral Kircheis. However, I did not expect that you would marry."

"That is not a question, Fleet Admiral."

"Let me rephrase, then." He picked up his wine glass and looked directly across the table at her, sitting with her hands delicately in her lap, her expression as empty and vacant as a cup of water. "Is this a marriage purely of political convenience, or are you operating under some assumption that there is love between the fleet admiral and yourself?"

"That is a frank question," she said.

"I did ask you forgive my impertinence." He took a sip of his wine and wondered if she would answer.

"I think you understand, Fleet Admiral," she said, and something in her expression changed, "that there are dreams that a person is allowed to have, and dreams that a person is not allowed to have."

"Oh?"

"When I was seventeen, the kind of dream that I was not allowed to have was one that involved a bit of poison in a cup, or a knife hidden under my pillow, or sneaking out of an open window and running as far as my feet could carry me." She tilted her head. "Dangerous dreams, Fleet Admiral. They're a little too easy to make real."

"And the dreams you were allowed to have?"

"I would picture myself with a little house in the countryside, and a garden, and a thick, tall wall, where no one could get in unless I let them. The only people I would let in would be Reinhard and Sieg- I suppose because they were the only ones who really knew the person I wished I still was." She smiled a thin smile. "You close your eyes and dream of the countryside, to stop yourself from dreaming of anything else."

"I'm not sure that answers my question, Princess."

"It doesn't?"

"I'm less interested in dreams than I am in reality."

"I don't know if that's true."

Reuenthal's smile turned grim. "And if I am interested in dreams, I always liked the dangerous ones better."

"I do sleep with a knife under my pillow these days, Fleet Admiral."

"A blaster would be more effective."

"I trust your men to keep the real danger away," she said. "It's just to remind me that the dangerous dream is the one that came true."

"I see," he said, though his eyebrows raised at the implication.

"And, to answer your question," she said, "I do love him. And certainly he loves me."

"Is that so?"

"You sound as though such a thing were impossible."

He made a dismissive noise. "Princess, perhaps we should avoid discussing my thoughts on the possibilities of love between any given people. I believe you're aware that I have a rather dim opinion of it."

"I am aware. I won't hold it against you."

"Thank you." He paused. "Will you still sleep with a knife under your pillow when we get to Phezzan?"

"Perhaps," she said. "Though it would probably be safer for us all if I managed to break the habit. I know that it's a poor one."

Reuenthal nodded.

"Why do you ask, Fleet Admiral?"

"About the knife?"

"About any of this."

"Because I'm curious, and because I didn't think that I would have another opportunity to. I appreciate your honesty."

"I am not a bad liar, in any event," she said. "One learns not to be, very quickly."

"As I understand it, women are better liars than men tend to be."

"It's a useful skill," she said.

"It must be." There was something else he wanted to ask. He put his fork down and wiped his hands on his napkin, although they were already quite dry. "It surprises me that you're willing to become anyone's wife, let alone the wife of someone with so much influence."

That had made her uncomfortable. Her normally still hands twitched like dying insects. Still, her voice was calm. "It's better to be a wife than something else," she said.

"Still, if you had been given a choice-"

She held up her hand. "Fleet Admiral, I always have a choice."

"Oh?"

Annerose reached into a pocket of her dress and pulled out a little makeup compact. With delicate fingers she opened it, then performed some quick little motion on the middle hinge, causing the whole thing to fall apart. Between two fingers, she held a pill that had been hidden there, and she hovered it over her glass of wine for a second.

"A knife under your pillow and poison in your cup," Reuenthal said. "How prepared you are."

Swiftly, Annerose returned the pill to the makeup compact, reassembled it, and slid it back into her pocket. "I trust you will not express to my brother that I am being paranoid."

Reuenthal leaned back. "I wouldn't call it paranoia, Princess."

"Other people would."

"Is that the only choice you feel you have?"

"The question of choice is a poor one. We all have responsibilities, and that sometimes means doing things willingly that we would not have chosen if we had been in different circumstances." She took a sip of her wine, and Reuenthal played back his memory of the previous few seconds, now paranoid himself that she had dropped the pill into it. "Under different circumstances, you might be asking my brother about marrying someone."

"I don't think I would presume to speak so personally with Mein Kaiser. "

"I appreciate that we can be candid with each other, then, Fleet Admiral."

"I doubt we will be in a position to be so again."

"Perhaps."

"Do you know what Fraulein Mariendorf said, when she brought up the subject for the first time?" Annerose asked.

"I am not privy to your private conversations with Mein Kaiser 's chief of staff."

"She asked me, 'Annerose, you have already been the mother of this dynasty once, and I know it was the greatest burden for you, but for the sake of the dynasty, would you be willing to do it a second time?' I don't remember the exact phrasing, but it was close enough."

"And you are willing."

Her eyes glinted. "Fleet Admiral, are all of us not willing to do anything that my brother needs of us?"

3 N.I.C., Phezzan

Kircheis had arrived at Phezzan before Reuenthal had, with Annerose in tow. When The Tristan pulled into port, Reuenthal saw the Barbarossa docked serenely next to the Brunhilde as they slid past, heading to dock next to the Beowulf.

It was mid afternoon by the time that they arrived on the planet's surface, taking the elevator to the ground. In the early days of taking the planet, they had simply landed their ships on the ground, but Reinhard had decided that it was more appropriate to use the spaceport once things had been settled. There were still some citizens of Phezzan who rankled at seeing an Imperial fleet descend in numbers from the sky. They were greeted by a standard entourage and brought to the seat of the Imperial government, still one of those temporary buildings that was being used until the new capitol construction was complete, which wouldn't be for several more years.

Reuenthal and Annerose would each have a private audience with the Kaiser, though Annerose would have hers first, as was her right. While Reuenthal waited in the antechamber outside Kaiser Reinhard's office suite, looking out the window at the sunny courtyard bedecked with flowers, the door opened behind him. He turned, expecting some sort of aide, but instead found Mittermeyer leaning on the doorframe, his posture casual but his smile bright.

"So, the man from Odin has finally made it back to real civilization," Mittermeyer said.

Reuenthal's lips quirked in a smile. "'Real civilization', you say. I hope you're not repeating that to anyone other than Phezzanis."

Mittermeyer laughed, then came into the room towards Reuenthal. "It's good to have you back."

Reuenthal offered his hand, and Mittermeyer took it, then pulled him forward into a solid half-embrace. "I am glad to see you. You seem well."

"As ever," Mittermeyer said. "No shortage of things to do, of course."

"I can imagine."

"How have you been since I last saw you?"

"Fine," he said.

"Still seeing your mystery woman?"

"No," Reuenthal said shortly. "I am not."

Mittermeyer raised an eyebrow. "More's the pity."

"She was tiresome," Reuenthal said. "In any event, I've heard rumor that I'm not going back to Odin."

"Maybe," Mittermeyer said. "It would make sense." His tone was businesslike now, and his eyes flicked to the door of Reinhard's suite. It was easy to fall back into talking to Mittermeyer, as though they had been apart for hours, rather than months. This was how it had always been.

"How long has Kircheis been on Phezzan?"

"Since last Friday," Mittermeyer said. "Not too long."

"You've spoken with him, I assume."

"I have." Mittermeyer's tone indicated that there was much to talk about, maybe in private. Reuenthal resisted the urge to turn and look at the door to Reinhard's suite as well.

"I've had the pleasure of speaking with Princess Grunewald plenty over our long journey."

Mittermeyer's smile was genuine. "I'm glad." But when he caught Reuenthal's expression, he frowned.

Reuenthal nodded his head to indicate the door behind himself. "Should you give me any advance warning on what I'm about to find in there?"

"I think you already know what to expect," Mittermeyer said, voice tight and pained. "You're probably more capable of ignoring it than I am."

"Ignoring it?"

"He hates being treated like a sick man," Mittermeyer said. He shook his head. "Some cruel trick of the gods to do this to him."

"It's not like you to be so pessimistic."

Mittermeyer closed his eyes. "There's no warning I can give you," he said. "But he is still the man we pledged to follow, even though-"

"I didn't ever doubt that."

"Yeah."

"How long does he have?"

"The doctors refuse to say, and I don't want to curse us all by guessing."

Reuenthal nodded. "I-"

But then the door was opening behind them, and Princess Grunewald stepped out. The two fleet admirals bowed, and she gave a curtsey. Her face was serene, but Reuenthal noticed the way her hand was held over the top of the pocket of her dress, touching something inside through the fabric.

"My brother will see you now, Fleet Admiral," she said.

"Thank you," Reuenthal said. "Are you going to your residence?"

"No," she said. "I ought to pay a visit to my fiance." And she smiled.

"Would you like an escort, Princess?" Mittermeyer asked. "His residence isn't far from mine."

She smiled at him. "I would, thank you, Fleet Admiral."

Mittermeyer brightened. "Excellent. I'll walk you out. Reuenthal-"

"Mittermeyer."

"Shall I see you tonight?"

"Of course," Reuenthal said. "I look forward to it."

Mittermeyer squeezed his arm, then lightly stepped towards Annerose, offering her his arm. "It'll be good for you to see a bit of Phezzan, my lady," he said. "It's a wonderful planet." They headed out together.

Reuenthal hesitated for just a moment, then opened the door to Reinhard's suite.

"Reuenthal?"

It was odd hearing Reinhard's voice without the static of ansible communications. He was just in the next room. His voice sounded as clear as ever, still youthful and bright, and for a moment, Reuenthal could pretend that all was right in the universe.

He turned the corner into Reinhard's office, and bowed, deeply, at the door. " Mein Kaiser ," he said.

"Come," Reinhard said, and Reuenthal did.

He was sitting at his desk, the golden lion banner behind him, and if Reuenthal hadn't known he was sick, he might not have noticed it at first. His hair still curled around his face in a great wave, and his expression was as regal and perfect as ever. It was the details, though, that were alarming. His hands were in braces, though mostly covered by his shirt sleeves, and he was propped up in his chair with foam pieces on either side of his body; Reuenthal wondered if he would be able to stand unassisted. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead, and his eyes, always intense, were bright in an almost preternatural way.

"You look alarmed to see me, Reuenthal," Reinhard said. "Am I really that changed from two years ago?" There was humor in his tone, although it was accompanied by a grimace. Even joking, Reinhard could not bear to fully admit to his frailty.

"It has been a long time, Your Majesty," Reuenthal said. "But we've spoken often, and I know you remain the same man I pledged myself to, many years ago."

Reinhard laughed. "I should hope." He smiled at Reuenthal. "I should thank you on behalf of my sister. She expressed that you have been most considerate of her during her journey, and while you were both on Odin."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," he said. "Though we hardly saw each other on Odin, so she must have a low threshold for what she thinks is consideration."

"Perhaps she does. I would have had her come to Phezzan long before now, but she wouldn't hear of it. I don't fully understand why, but I'm glad she is here."

"She indicated that she would make Phezzan her permanent residence."

He nodded. "It will be good to have her with me again."

"And Fleet Admiral Kircheis."

A smile touched Reinhard's lips. "Yes. And you, as well. I don't think you will return to Odin."

"I had heard a rumor that I might be sent to Neue Land."

Reinhard nodded. "Yes," he said. "I don't think it would suit anyone for Oberstein to be its permanent administrator. But he'll serve for now."

"If I may ask: why Oberstein, rather than Lutz or Wahlen?"

Reinhard folded his braced hands across each other on his desk. "Oberstein would never moderate his decisions in order to be less despised," he said. "I think it's a useful quality at the moment."

"And if I am to be sent to Neue Land?"

"There is a reason Oberstein is only there on a temporary basis," Reinhard said.

They were edging around the subject of how long Oberstein would be there before Reuenthal took his post. It was important for him to know, and this was as good of a litmus as any about what Reinhard's mental state was. "May I ask how temporary this posting is supposed to be?"

"A year or so," Reinhard said. His tone was enthusiastic, and casual. "I have something I would like to discuss with you."

"Oh?"

"Iserlohn," Reinhard said. "I have been thinking over what to do about it." Immediately, Reuenthal's pulse quickened. This must have shown on his face, because Reinhard said, "So, you've been thinking about it, too."

"Who has not, Your Majesty?"

"Iserlohn is the other reason I summoned you here." He licked his lips, dry as bone. "We've always said that Iserlohn is self-sustaining, that it can withstand a siege."

"Yes," Reuenthal said.

"And it's true that they have food. But they are not a planet. They rely on outside resources to maintain various critical systems, and once their physical ordinance is expended, they aren't able to produce more."

Reuenthal nodded. "And you think they are on the verge of collapse?"

"No," Reinhard said. "I think they would survive for probably another twenty years, if we didn't push them. But based on what they have at their disposal, if we do push them, I believe they would be vulnerable to a two pronged attack."

"The Thor Hammer can only face one direction at once."

"Precisely. And their fleet is greatly diminished," Reinhard said. "Do you believe it's possible?"

"Yang Wenli conquered Iserlohn."

"With tricks," Reinhard said. "And I'm sure that he has thought of exactly this."

"Are you asking my opinion, Your Majesty?"

"Oberstein believes this is a mistake. Mittermeyer hesitates."

Reuenthal didn't say anything for a moment, considering. This was what Annerose had said: Reinhard considered himself invincible, at least while his work was undone. He had a sway, and Reuenthal wanted to let himself be drawn into that vision, the one that Reinhard saw, of himself taking the universe. That was the man Reuenthal had pledged to follow. "And you would be at the head of this charge?"

"One head of it."

If he closed his eyes, the glorious picture of Reinhard at the head of all the fleets was so real. "Oberstein does not want to waste lives on anything that is unnecessary," Reuenthal said, which would have been true if there were not other, more pressing objections. "I don't believe his objections are because it is impossible."

Reinhard smiled. "Of course. And Mittermeyer?"

"Perhaps only would like to wait until the line of succession is assured," Reuenthal said.

Reinhard sighed. "Yes. That's why I said in a year. And that gives us time to harry them and wear them down further."

Reuenthal nodded. "I believe it's a sound plan, Your Majesty."

"I thought you would."

"Would Fleet Admiral Kircheis accompany you?"

Reinhard's expression shifted, lips pinching. His hands looked like they wanted to curl up, but the braces stopped them, only the tips of his fingers really able to move. "I haven't decided."

Reuenthal nodded. "I'm sure the situation and relevant personnel assignments will become more obvious in a year or so."

"Yes," Reinhard said. "I am sure that it will. You can think over what the assignments can be. I'm glad to have you here as my principal advisor on this matter- and others."

"I'm honored by the trust you have in me, Mein Kaiser. "

"Of course."

There was a beat of silence, and Reuenthal decided it was appropriate to change the subject. "I ought to congratulate Kircheis on his engagement. I didn't ever expect him to marry."

"No," Reinhard said. "But he would be happy to accept your congratulations, I'm sure."

"May I ask a question, if it is not too personal?"

Reinhard waved his hand.

"Was he the one to propose the idea?"

"He was the one to propose it, yes. He asked me for permission." That didn't necessarily mean that Kircheis had been the one to think of the plan; Reuenthal wondered who had been. Mariendorf, perhaps? Oberstein? But Kircheis may have understood the situation as well as anyone else, and known that he was the only one who could do anything about it.

"Kind of you to give it."

"I think I always imagined they would marry someday," Reinhard said. "You know, the childish dream of us all remaining together. This is as good of a time for it as any."

"Princess Grunewald mentioned that she had a similar dream."

Reinhard smiled, though it was a thin one. "It has always been my goal to make my sister's dreams come true."

"It seems you have succeeded."

Reinhard nodded, then yawned. "Pardon me- I'm afraid I have not been sleeping very well lately."

Reuenthal hesitated, then asked, "May I ask how your health is?"

"Improving, I think," Reinhard said. "Or at least not getting worse." Reuenthal's gaze flicked to his hands, involuntarily, and Reinhard noticed the look. He held up his hand. "To prevent undue strain. I hate the things, but if the doctors say I must-"

Reinhard started to pull at the laces to his left brace with his right hand, but his fingers were clumsy, and he immediately grew frustrated. He met Reuenthal's eyes, then held out his hand. Reuenthal's heart was a drum in his chest as he took the offered hand and delicately pulled apart the laces and tugged off the brace, holding Reinhard's gaze, until his hot hand was bare in Reuenthal's cold one.

"It's something to do with my connective tissue, I'm told," Reinhard said. Slowly, he lifted his hand out of Reuenthal's, and then pressed his fingers to the surface of the desk. He pressed, and they bent back, until the back of his hand made an acute angle with the back of his fingers. It made Reuenthal's skin crawl. It was no worse than any number of war wounds he had seen people acquire over the years, but there was something insidious about it, the creeping way that his Kaiser was being eaten from inside.

"But so long as I can think and speak, I believe it matters very little," Reinhard said. "And I highly doubt either of those facilities will be taken from me."

"I certainly hope that is the case."

Reinhard held out his hand again. Reuenthal moved to put the brace back on him, but Reinhard shook his head, so Reuenthal dropped the brace on the desk and clasped Reinhard's hand. "Two years was a long time for you to be away," he said. "I hope you aren't dissatisfied with returning."

"Not at all, Mein Kaiser. "

He met Mittermeyer later that night, in the house that he had originally procured for himself when he had been on Phezzan for the first time. It was a large place, but cold and empty, since Reuenthal had spent very little time in it, all told. But it was better than Mittermeyer's home, because they could be alone here.

Mittermeyer had brought a bottle of wine, and they sat on the couch drinking in their shirtsleeves.

"I can't tell you how glad I am that you're not going back to Odin," Mittermeyer said.

"Mm," Reuenthal agreed. "Though I'm not sure how much real work I'll be able to do here."

"Trust me, there's plenty to be done." He shook his head, his hair falling about his ears. "I assume His Majesty told you about his thoughts for Iserlohn?"

"He did."

"And what did you think?"

"He mentioned that you were hesitant."

"I'm sure you can see why," Mittermeyer said. He let out a heaving breath. "In any other time- gods. Two years ago, I wouldn't have hesitated, except that we needed to focus on maintaining order in Neue Land."

"And why is it different than two years ago?"

Mittermeyer tugged on his ear. "He might think that he's going to finish his last remaining task," he said. "But there must be some part of him that's crying out to die in space, rather than in a sickbed. It's not like I can blame him, but it would-" He cut himself off.

"He doesn't believe he's dying."

"You saw him."

"He looks like a weak man, but not one with one foot in the grave," Reuenthal said. "And he still has his mind, as you said."

"I've been watching him get weaker every day for two years," Mittermeyer said. "He wouldn't have agreed to this marriage business if it had been proposed any time before now. He might not admit it, but on some level, he knows. He might have ten years left, I don't know, but he doesn't have eternity." Angrily, Mittermeyer drank the rest of his glass of wine. Reuenthal held out his hand, and Mittermeyer passed him the glass so he could pour another. "The gods are cruel."

"I pledged myself to him, and so I will follow him," Reuenthal said. "The plan seems strategically sound, at least. And we have a year or so before he wants to put it into action."

"If he just wanted to take Iserlohn, he would send you and I to do it."

"And maybe he will, in a year." The thought did thrill him. "Wait ten months, and then make that case to him. Maybe he'll listen."

Mittermeyer shook his head. "I don't know."

"What do you think of this marriage?"

"Hm? Oh, I think they're a good pair. Shame His Majesty couldn't be convinced to find a wife himself, but maybe it's for the best if he doesn't pass on whatever illness this is."

"Who would you have suggested he marry?" Reuenthal couldn't help the bitter tone that crept into his voice, though Mittermeyer ignored it.

"Perhaps Fraulein Mariendorf," he said with a smile. That broke the tension, and Reuenthal chuckled.

"That would be a sight. Imagine her walking into the wedding with them both in dress uniforms."

Mittermeyer laughed into his wine. "As long as the couple can produce an heir, it hardly matters what they're wearing."

Reuenthal tipped his glass in his hands, watching the dim light from the side table twinkle in the wine. "Will he name the child his heir, or his sister?"

"The child, I'm sure," Mittermeyer said. "Which will allow Kircheis to be regent. It seems like the most reasonable plan."

"He doesn't think his sister would make a suitable ruler?"

Mittermeyer raised his eyebrows. "Do you?"

"I don't really care," Reuenthal said, which was not true in the least.

"I just expected you would have an opinion, since you've spent so long with her on Odin."

"Watching her play shadow court, and saving her from assassins," Reuenthal said. "It's hardly a show of what she'd do as a ruler." He tipped his wine glass. "And hearing the news out of Neue Land hardly gives me a better impression of Kircheis."

"I think he'd be suitable. I trust him."

"It's not exactly a matter of suitability," Reuenthal said. He looked away.

"What is it a matter of, then?"

"I pledged myself to follow one man," Reuenthal said. "I expected to be following him for the rest of my life. I did not pledge myself to Kircheis, or Princess Grunewald, or some yet-to-be conceived child."

"Don't tell me that you're only enthusiastic about this Iserlohn plan so that you can throw yourself in the path of the Thor Hammer," Mittermeyer said. "I'll kill you myself."

That had not been what Reuenthal had meant, but Mittermeyer's interpretation was the more generous one. "I simply do not want to see Mein Kaiser die."

"And you think I do?" Mittermeyer scowled.

"No," Reuenthal said. "But I think that when he does die, the Neue Reich will face a harsher reckoning than it yet has. He holds things together, and even if the line of succession is clear…"

"And so we shouldn't throw our lives away chasing Iserlohn," Mittermeyer said. "We'll be needed to keep the Reich together."

"Mm," Reuenthal said, which meant nothing. He kicked his leg up onto Mittermeyer's lap, and Mittermeyer relaxed a little, shifting so that he could rub his thumb across Reuenthal's calf. "Do you think you'll be sent to Odin when I head to Neue Land?"

"Hm? Oh, I don't know. I expected I would remain on Phezzan. Why?"

"It might be nice, for us each to hold half the universe in our hands."

Mittermeyer shivered at the tone in Reuenthal's voice. "Yeah. Maybe."

Author's Note

so. obviously. things are somewhat different in this universe!

with divergence at e26, annerose never had the opportunity to see what "giving absolutely everything to reinhard" could do to the people closest to him, and so she's been spending the past several years bending over backwards to help him, as she always had before. this is that, taken to its logical conclusion.

the elfriede thing obviously played out quite differently.

the conquering of the FPA also happened, uh, differently. Yang is alive and chilling in Iserlohn but... shall we say some different things happened to get him there. i don't think he's going to show up though.

I suppose it doesn't really matter- I'm not going to spend a billion years writing this au because frankly 'e26 canon divergence' and its ripple effects are interesting from an emotional standpoint, but probably not from a like. plot standpoint. so i'm fastforwarding to the miserable end of the slow march of history haha.

since this diverges at e26, you can assume that the events of 'towards the tail end of the age that's almost finished' and 'untouchable and golden' both happened. i directly reference something that happens in 'untouchable and golden', so you should probably go read that if you haven't.

this shouldn't be too long of a story. maybe 3-4 chapters.

let me know if this is like, completely incomprehensible. do i provide enough information in the chapter for you to glean the state of the universe?

sorry for the bible passage. this isn't a fic about religion lol. it's a fic about the exquisite homoeroticism of your "best friend" marrying your sister. obviously.

thank you to lydia and em for the beta read! you can find me on twitter natsinator and on tumblr javert . the rest of my nonsense is gayspaceopera. carrd. co