Dreams of Gold; Dreams of Iron

3 N.I.C., Heinessen

Kircheis wanted to perform one last duty before leaving Neue Land in Oberstein's capable, if not tender, hands. It wasn't a particularly arduous duty, but it was a difficult one. Someone could have called his trip from Thernussen to Heinessenpolis a sightseeing visit, but Kircheis thought that there was likely a difference between seeing and bearing witness, which was what he intended to do.

The outskirts of the city remained a sprawling mess of temporary structures, some still tents, others slightly more sturdy constructions of cinderblock and concrete. Although it had been almost three years since the capital had been taken by force, reconstruction was slow, especially now in the winter.

Kircheis and Oberstein passed through the camp in an armored car, the rutted road not making for an easy ride, though both of them tolerated it in silence. Oberstein stared straight ahead, but Kircheis looked out the windows, watching as people stopped what they were doing to see the line of cars go by. They put down their water jugs, their petrol canisters, their wheelbarrows full of scrap metal, and peered with tight lips and shadowed eyes into the tinted windows of Kircheis's car, unable to see anything. Children without jackets stopped chasing each other and instead scooped up handfuls of grimy snow to throw at the line of cars.

Heinessenpolis was not the only place in the Neue Reich that had suffered badly during and since Reinhard's takeover, but it had been one of the worst hit. Kircheis had often wondered if it wouldn't be better for all these people to abandon the city entirely, and to relocate them elsewhere, somewhere where there was at lest sufficient water and electricity, but Reinhard had snapped at him when he had proposed that.

"If this was their seat of power, it should be ours," Reinhard said. "And we can rebuild it better than it was."

Scattered resistance and the collapsed economy of the planet, and indeed this half of the galaxy, meant that it was difficult to accomplish serious construction. Additionally, this part of Heinessen had been the planet's largest center of industry, and that had all been destroyed.

Their cars passed by the main construction, white tarps on the sides of building frames fluttering in the wind. None of the cranes were currently moving, and the whole scene had a desolate, disturbing feeling. Kircheis hated coming here, but he felt he needed to see it one last time before he left the planet, possibly for good.

"Stop here, please," Kircheis said after they passed the furthest extent of the construction and were about to loop around at the end of the cleared road, before hitting a vast field of rubble, half destroyed buildings, and then the rest piles of debris that had been cleared from the construction zones. Standing directly in the center of this cratered landscape was the almost miraculously still standing statue of Ale Heinessen, arms raised to the sky. Or, his arms had been raised; one had been destroyed in the bombing. Across the remaining raised arm, someone had managed to climb the statue and tie off the golden lion flag of the Lohengramm dynasty. It snapped audibly in the wind when Kircheis got out of the car.

Oberstein followed him out, and they stood some distance away from the cars. It may have been dangerous to stand out in the open like this- there may very well have been snipers who had clambered up into the empty shells of new construction when they saw the motorcade drive by- but Kircheis didn't really care. His green cape did nothing to protect him from the cold, biting wind as it flared out behind him; Oberstein's grey one matched the gritty snow covering the rubble.

"I expected you would be eager to leave as soon as I arrived," Oberstein said after a moment of looking at the statue. "This is a significant detour."

"I needed to see it before I went," he replied. "Though I suppose there isn't much to see."

Off in the distance, a few small figures climbed up the piles of concrete, probably digging for old copper wiring, though Kircheis had to think that this whole zone had long been picked bare of the easy gatherings.

"I will ensure construction remains on schedule," Oberstein said.

Kircheis didn't say anything. It hadn't been that long since he had last seen Oberstein, but he had never really figured out how to speak with him. They were both quiet people, and while they had a common goal, and plenty more to agree upon besides that, there was something that made an easy working relationship between them impossible.

The sun was on its way down, so their shadows stretched out long behind them. Kircheis squinted into the cold, golden light. "If there's anything I can do from Phezzan to make this easier-" Kircheis began.

"You will have your own duties to focus on."

"I can't help but feel responsible for it," Kircheis said.

"It will be your responsibility again soon enough."

Kircheis's face remained impassive, but his heart twisted. Instead of responding to Oberstein's cruel statement directly, Kircheis said, "You were right, years ago."

Oberstein said nothing.

"He should have sent you to govern this place originally," Kircheis said.

"Perhaps."

"You seemed certain enough of it back then."

"He wanted to give you half the universe," Oberstein said. "I objected because his sentimentality was clouding his judgement. Now it's clouding yours. You did not manage to lose control of Neue Land, so it hardly matters that I had my objections. His Majesty made the choice that suited him, and I am glad that it suited the Reich as well."

Kircheis watched the figures on the horizon. "Half the universe," he muttered. There was no amount of power or influence that Kircheis would not have traded for the past few years to have been wiped away, to have been replaced with other years spent at Reinhard's side. "It doesn't belong to me."

Oberstein nodded. "His Majesty thinks it does."

"No," Kircheis said, "he won't consider Neue Land as yours while you administrate it."

"His Majesty is more generous to some than others, though he has been generous to me, in his way."

"Have I passed your test, Oberstein?"

"Test? I have no right to test you."

They looked across the bleak landscape. The people who were climbing the distant rubble had taken out prybars and were lifting up a concrete slab, painstakingly.

"Have I administrated Neue Land in a way that satisfies you?"

"You have administrated Neue Land in a way that satisfies His Majesty. I have no opinion beyond that."

Kircheis was silent for a second. "I do not doubt that if you felt I was about to destroy the Reich, you would contrive some way to have me removed."

"You speak very frankly."

"We have always spoken frankly to each other, haven't we?"

"Even if I had objections, I do not believe I could stop His Majesty from giving the whole of the universe to you and his sister. He is… a generous man."

Kircheis was glad for Oberstein's cold demeanor. If he had appeared more invested in this conversation, as though they had been discussing anything more than the weather or the status of repairs to the fleets, Kircheis would have found it more difficult to keep his own voice even. "He is."

The wind whistled over the broken buildings. "May I ask a frank question of you?" Oberstein asked.

"Yes."

"Should I expect merely to tender my resignation, when you become regent?"

"Merely?" Kircheis asked. "Do you think I would have you executed?"

Oberstein took a second to respond. Kircheis turned to look at him, and the golden light glittered on his false eyes, illuminating traces of circuitry beneath. "I have done many things which you disapprove of. It would not surprise me. And you yourself are wondering if I would have you removed. A leader who does not trust his advisors not to scheme against him cannot rule well."

Kircheis took a moment to think. "Kaiser Reinhard trusts you," he said. "That's- it's enough for me."

"While His Majesty is alive, we have a common goal," Oberstein said.

"Your goal is the stability of the Reich, and if I become the regent that will be my duty. We'll still have that in common."

"As you say."

"Do you want to resign?"

"What I want has little to do with effectively running the Reich," Oberstein said. "If you do wish to have me killed, I only ask that you take care of the matter in a way that does not damage the legitimacy of the dynasty. A show trial as Lichtenlade-"

"I am not going to have you killed, Oberstein." Kircheis said. "I don't even think I want you to resign."

Oberstein was not a man who was capable of surprise. "As you wish."

"Kaiser Reinhard trusts you…" He said again, then trailed off. "He's always been good at seeing what needs to be done- I'm not." His eyes flicked across the rubble. "Or I don't want to see."

"You have ruled Neue Land-"

"The way Kaiser Reinhard wanted me to rule Neue Land." He knew firsthand what harshness had been required to bring this land to heel: they were staring at some of it. He had made a terrifying impression on this part of the galaxy by personally stomping out flares of rebellions, seeing to the rooting out and execution of terrorists, and keeping his hand on the throat of what remained of the government as he restructured it. He tried to be just, and he had thought that he had succeeded, but he couldn't help but catch the occasional glimpse of a television broadcast or flyleaf posted on a wall, where the image of his own face was cold and hard, eyes empty, his hair as red as blood.

Since the conqueror's installed governor was never a figure to be loved by the population, Kircheis had expected this, and it didn't matter, really. Reinhard's dynasty would be better than anything that had ever been before, but it still startled him, every time he saw pictures of himself. It was hard to reconcile the image with the way he had always imagined himself: slow to anger, kind to those who knew him; his mother had always said he would make a finer teacher than soldier.

It would have been more difficult to bear if he had needed the adulation of the populace. He didn't. He only needed the approval of one man. And when that man died, Kircheis wasn't sure what he would do.

They were silent for a second. "Years ago, you said you didn't think I was capable of killing you," Kircheis said. "You must have changed your mind."

"Do you think you are capable?"

Kircheis didn't flinch at the question. He stood straight and stared directly ahead, into the setting sun. "Yes."

"If you require my service, you shall have it," Oberstein said after a second.

As soon as Oberstein said that, Kircheis wanted to change his mind and decide to dismiss him, but he didn't. Instead, he just looked at the ruined city before him and said, "Thank you."

3 N.I.C., Phezzan

Kircheis arrived back on Phezzan in the middle of the night, as often happened with space travel. He wasn't expecting much of a formal reception when he finally stepped foot onto the surface of the planet, since it was about three in the morning. But he was wrong, at least a little. Fraulein Mariendorf, the chief of staff, was waiting for him. She waved as he exited the elevator, and Kircheis's face crinkled in genuine happiness to see her. She was dressed in a sharp blue suit, professional as ever despite the lateness of the hour.

"Fraulein Mariendorf!" Kircheis said, shaking her hand. "It's a little late for you to be out and about, isn't it?"

She squeezed his hand. "I figured it would be shameful to have no welcoming committee." It was unspoken but acknowledged between them that in better times, Reinhard would have been here. "We shouldn't linger in the terminal," she pointed out. "If you would care to come with me?"

Kircheis nodded and dismissed his staff, letting Admirals Bergengrun and Buro take charge of the settling in of the rest of his fleet to their new stations on Phezzan, at least for the night. It was clear that Hilde wanted a chance to talk to him privately, and Kircheis was only too happy to oblige. They walked out of the port and into the hot, muggy air of Phezzan. The whole atmosphere smelled warm and alive, thick with the richness of loamy dirt and the low pressure of an approaching storm.

As they got into Hilde's waiting car, Kircheis asked, "Where are you planning to take me, Fraulein?"

She waited until they were both seated in the back before she responded. "I assume you have no objections to going to the capitol."

"I don't want to wake Kaiser Reinhard up if he's asleep."

"I don't think anyone could stop him from waiting up for you."

"Then yes, headquarters is fine," Kircheis said. He had no real desire to go back to the house that was in his name Phezzan; he had almost no attachment to the building.

"How was your journey?"

"From Heinessen? Fine," Kircheis said. He watched the brilliant lights of the city slip past the windows of the car. It was a jarring change from what he was used to on Heinessen; everything on Phezzan was so slick and clean. He had been told that even before Reinhard had conquered Neue Land, it had been run down and poor, in many parts. Phezzan was everything that anyone could want from the seat of their government: clean, bright, central, and whole.

Kircheis found that he hated it, and that he missed the shattered husk of Heinessenpolis, or the crowded and overburdened Thernussen. The slickness of Phezzan felt like a lie, and the planet he had left behind suited his mood far better.

"Fleet Admiral Reuenthal should be arriving within the next week," Hilde said.

"Did my parents-"

"They asked for passage on a commercial liner," Hilde said. "They'll come for the wedding."

Kircheis let out a breath. "They're pleased, I'm sure."

"Have you spoken with them?"

"No." He kept looking out the windows. "We aren't close."

Hilde nodded. "May I ask how you are, Fleet Admiral?"

"Me?" Kircheis asked. "I'm alright." He offered her a smile, but she was too perceptive by far, and she frowned at him. "Fraulein, at the very least, I have no right to complain."

"I wasn't asking you to complain," she said. "You're as bad as His Majesty."

She might be right. "How is he?"

It was Hilde's turn to look away out the window. "I'm not a doctor," she said. "But he's not going to get any better from here, is what the doctors tell me."

"How long?"

"I don't know. Nobody does. Probably longer if he doesn't exert himself, but he's constitutionally incapable of not exerting himself…" She shook her head. "It should be better, now that you're here, and Princess Grunewald- I think he'll be happier when he has someone he can confide in."

"He doesn't confide in you?"

"He's not a difficult man to figure out, in some respects," she said. "If that's what you mean by being in his confidences."

"It is," Kircheis said. Reinhard carefully chose what other people saw of himself, and Hilde saw more clearly than almost anyone else. "I'm grateful you've been with him, this whole time."

"It should have been you here."

"You disagreed with Oberstein, back when that was being decided."

Hilde's mouth pinched. "It was a mistake in judgement." But then she shook her head. "I didn't know-"

"Nobody did." He paused, then asked, "Why did you tell Kaiser Reinhard to send me to Neue Land?"

"The reasons seem silly, now," she said.

Kircheis stayed silent, figuring that she would elaborate.

"I trusted you," she said. "That was the only reason."

She clearly didn't want to slander the other fleet admirals, so Kircheis didn't push. "I wish I could have been in two places at once," he said. Neon light splashed through the car windows, covering his hands on his lap with bright red. "It was important for me to be responsible for Neue Land, as well."

"You're only human, Fleet Admiral."

"Still."

"Have you spoken with Princess Grunewald recently?" she asked.

"I've written to her. Ansible calling from Heinessen to Odin is difficult under the best of circumstances. Have you?"

"Yes."

"How is she?"

"I believe she'll be happier to arrive on Phezzan than she thinks she will be," Hilde said after a moment. She bit her lip.

"Thank you for arranging this," Kircheis said. "I really appreciate what you've done for-" He wasn't sure who Hilde had served the most. "Kaiser Reinhard," he finally said.

"It's my duty," she said. She fell silent for a second, but since she looked like she wanted to say something else, Kircheis didn't interrupt. "Fleet Admiral Oberstein thinks his duty is just the physical strength and continuation of the Reich," she said.

"That's the easiest thing to measure," Kircheis posited, feeling unusually charitable towards Oberstein at the moment. Hilde nodded, though her expression was grim.

"He's not very delicate," Hilde said. "I think he might have forced His Majesty to take a wife, if I hadn't been able to offer him an alternative."

"I don't think anyone could force Kaiser Reinhard," Kircheis said, but he was lying to himself. If Oberstein had presented the situation to Reinhard in a way that had made him feel like he was saving Annerose from something, he would have gone along with Oberstein's plan. Oberstein could have easily painted Annerose as a victim again, who would need to be forced to bear the burden of the dynasty-

And, maybe she was that.

But someone was going to have to have an heir, and it seemed cleaner for everyone if Reinhard, an ailing man, did not have to choose some stranger to have a child with. Especially as he grew weaker, if he failed, that would jeopardize the whole dynasty.

So instead he and Annerose had presented it as something else. A natural fit. An easy choice. They did love each other, after all.

The golden lights of the capitol were coming into view. Kircheis looked over at Hilde, who was still frowning out the window. "Fraulein," Kircheis said.

She looked over at him.

"If it wasn't for this, I don't think he would have called me back from Neue Land until it was too late. That's another thing I'm grateful to you for."

"I would have told you to come," she said. "You and Princess Grunewald."

Kircheis nodded. "Thank you."

"I'm not afraid of him, you know," she said. "Even if it meant going against his wishes, I would have-"

"I know," Kircheis said. "I'm glad it didn't come to that."

The car pulled up outside the capitol. "Shall I see you in the morning, Fleet Admiral?" Hilde asked.

"Of course, Fraulein," he said. "You're not coming in to speak with him?"

"Oh, no," she said hastily. "I should go home." She offered him a smile. "I just wanted to make sure that you had a pleasant return to Phezzan."

"As pleasant as it can be," Kircheis said, but he smiled back. "Goodnight, Fraulein."

He headed out of the car, and up into the capitol building, the guards saluting as he passed. This building had not been the one that Reinhard had been using as his headquarters when they had first taken the capitol, and so Kircheis actually had no idea where Reinhard was, and was almost faced with the embarrassing prospect of having to ask for directions. But he was met in the lobby by the chief of Reinhard's personal guard, Commodore Kissling, and was shown directly up to his suite.

"His Majesty asked me to bring you to him directly," the commodore said as they walked.

"He shouldn't be awake," Kircheis said.

Kissling's face flashed in momentary agreement, then slipped back into professionalism. "His Majesty does as he wishes," he said.

The entrance to Reinhard's suite was unmarked, but the presence of guards at the door announced it as sure as any sign. They saluted, and Commodore Kissling opened the door. Kircheis entered, and the door shut behind him.

The first room was dark, but there was soft yellow light spilling out from Reinhard's bedroom. "Kaiser Reinhard," Kircheis called softly. There was no response, so he walked forward, his heart pounding.

There was no need for him to be worried. Reinhard was in his bed, propped up halfway, but slumped sideways in a deep sleep, chest rising and falling shallowly. A book lay open across his lap, almost falling down off the bed onto the floor. His blond hair fell softly around his face, dwarfing his features. Among the pillows and blankets, in only his white nightshirt, he looked far smaller than he was, and much more peaceful than Kircheis had seen him in a long time.

Kircheis took the book off Reinhard's lap to prevent it from falling to the ground, wondering if that action would be enough to wake him. When it didn't, he stroked Reinhard's hair, tracing it off his forehead. Reinhard was deep asleep and didn't stir.

He was tempted to continue doing so until Reinhard woke, but since he had just said that Reinhard should be asleep, he could hardly be upset that he was. It would have felt wrong to climb into the bed next to him without so much as a greeting, so Kircheis instead turned out the light and sat in the chair by the window, staring out at the lights of Phezzan, the great spire of the elevator stretching up to heaven, and the faint stars visible through the shifting clouds and light pollution.

He didn't know how long he sat there; his mind felt perfectly blank for the entire time, just taking in the sound of Reinhard breathing nearby, trying to preserve that sound in his memory. It could have been hours, but eventually Reinhard stirred, shifting in the blankets. His eyes cracked open, and with a voice dry and crackly with sleep, he murmured, "Kircheis?"

Kircheis started at the address, and immediately got up, kneeling down at Reinhard's bedside. "Yes, Lord Reinhard," he said. "I'm here."

"I thought it was a dream," Reinhard said. He was laying on his side, one arm under his head. With Kircheis kneeling, they were nearly eye to eye. His face was strange in the muted light, and he reached out towards Kircheis, running his fingers through his hair, then over his cheek. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"You need your rest," Kircheis said.

"I dreamed about you," Reinhard said. "That you were here." He was still half asleep, perhaps.

"I am here."

"Kircheis," Reinhard said. His thumb roved across Kircheis's lips, then he pulled him gently forward, their faces mere inches apart, and then they were kissing, tender on Kircheis's part and tired on Reinhard's. His lips were dry and cracked, but he was warm and alive and real, smelling sweetly like sweat and shampoo. Reinhard's hand on the back of Kircheis's head kept trying to tug him closer and closer.

"Gods, Kircheis-" Reinhard said. "Oh gods, I love you."

He said it so easily, without reservation, whispering it against Kircheis's lips, his hand playing in his hair. Not urgent, but desperate anyway. Kircheis touched his cheek, the bare slip of his neck, brushing his hair away. "Lord Reinhard…"

"Come here," Reinhard said. "Please."

"Yes, Lord Reinhard," Kircheis said. As he stood, Reinhard tugged at the sleeve of his uniform, and Kircheis got the message, pulling it off and draping it neatly over the back of the chair. He felt Reinhard's eyes on him as he dropped his pants, and turned to see him smiling, more awake now.

"I've missed you," Reinhard said.

Kircheis didn't say anything, just smiled, then walked around the bed to get in next to Reinhard. Reinhard rolled to face him, and Kircheis embraced him, pulling him close, chest to chest. Their legs tangled together underneath the blankets, fitting together like they had never been apart, except that there was a new softness to Reinhard's movements, one that hadn't been there before.

Kircheis clung to him like he was drowning, and Reinhard nestled his nose into Kircheis's neck. "I'm glad you're here."

"You could have called me back earlier," Kircheis said, not exactly chastising, but Reinhard huffed out a laugh anyway.

"Did you think I couldn't survive without you?"

"No," Kircheis said. "But I regret not being with you."

"I needed you in Neue Land," Reinhard mumbled, then yawned. "I didn't want to give it to anyone else."

Kircheis just stroked the back of Reinhard's head. "Promise you won't send me away again," he said.

Reinhard didn't say anything, but his hand traveled hot across the expanse of Kircheis's back, tracing the bumps of his spine, the old pits of acne scars. It was such a familiar touch, one that Kircheis had missed. Reinhard had him memorized.

He wanted Reinhard to promise to keep him by his side, but Reinhard wouldn't make that promise, because it would be too much of an admission, Kircheis knew. Reinhard mouthed at his neck, and Kircheis shifted so that they could kiss again, properly this time, Kircheis tasting the sleep in Reinhard's mouth. Reinhard was greedy and insistent, and even his tongue was dry as it tracked across Kircheis's teeth.

They could have stayed like that forever, not even needing to speak, just an easy push and pull, touching and being touched, as though they hadn't been apart for so long. Their hands were on each other's faces, in each other's hair. It was nothing like any other reunion that they had made in the past- there had been no meeting under watchful public eye in the spaceport; no drinking and talking before they made it this far; none of the excited, jittery energy that Reinhard always had previously.

But perhaps it was Kircheis who was more changed than Reinhard was.

"I do need you, don't I?" Reinhard said, voice just on the edge of whining, his hand slipping into the waistband of Kircheis's boxers.

He let out a little breath, said, "Lord Reinhard," and pushed Reinhard's hand away a little, enough that Reinhard laughed and rolled back.

"I'm not a sick man who can't exert himself on your behalf at all, am I?" Reinhard asked, joking even though there was nothing to joke about.

"Let me, Lord Reinhard," Kircheis said.

Reinhard smiled, reaching out to twirl some of Kircheis's hair. "If that's what you want."

Kircheis kissed him again, then rucked up Reinhard's nightshirt to touch his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breathing. It was as much to confirm that he was really there as anything else; Kircheis wanted to touch every inch of him. He traced down his stomach, following the line of downy, almost invisible hair, and tugged his underwear down. Reinhard struggled and kicked it off the rest of the way with a little breathy laugh, losing it somewhere down in the blankets.

Reinhard clung to Kircheis, his fingers gripping onto him, his face buried up against his hair. He kept making noise, whispering Kircheis's name, taking in rough little breaths, pleased mumblings. He didn't move much, not like he used to, and Kircheis tried to chalk that lack of tension in his movements up to relaxation rather than weakness.

He came with a surprised gasp, his breath rapid and sweat standing out on his brow. Kircheis kissed his forehead, then had to stretch over him to grab some tissues from the bedside table to clean up. Reinhard laughed at him for that, but lay perfectly still as Kircheis cleaned up the mess, his eyes following Kircheis's face the whole time. Kircheis just looked down at his own hands.

"Are you sure you don't want-" Reinhard began, but was interrupted by his own yawn.

"I shouldn't have interrupted your sleep," Kircheis said. "Should I go?" he asked.

"No," Reinhard said, voice suddenly loud and awake. The alarm made Kircheis blink, and Reinhard let out a breath and relaxed, trying to pull Kircheis back down to the pillow.

"I just don't want to cause a problem," Kircheis said. "I am marrying-"

"Nobody will say anything," Reinhard insisted. Kircheis wasn't entirely sure that was true, but he wanted it to be true, didn't want to have to leave his room like a cadet who was trying not to get caught out after curfew. So he let Reinhard convince him, and laid back down. "What's the point in being the kaiser if I can't at least…" Reinhard said under his breath, maybe not intended for Kircheis to even hear.

They were silent for a second, and Kircheis pulled Reinhard close to him, his back against his chest. "Remember when we lived at Linbergstrasse?" Kircheis asked.

Reinhard nodded.

That time seemed both idyllic and distant, like it belonged to a life that wasn't quite real. Kircheis knew that, at the time, they had felt up against the world: Annerose still trapped, the Goldenbaums still in power, and the endless annoyances of being hated within the fleet. But the problems of those days felt immaterial, and only the pleasant parts felt real at all. He remembered living with Reinhard and spending long, lazy mornings in bed; drinking and talking late into the night; playing music so loudly that the landladies wouldn't notice that they were dancing together on the wooden floors.

"We should live together again," Reinhard said quietly. "The three of us. I can move out of the capitol building."

Kircheis pressed his face into Reinhard's hair. He wanted to believe in the golden dream that Reinhard was spinning, the fantasy, but he couldn't. Reinhard had always been good at selling fantasies to people. This whole world was built on it. But Kircheis found the warm gilding had worn off the dream, revealing the cold iron underneath.

Kircheis couldn't say anything, because the lump in his throat was now too heavy, so he just tried to breathe in the sweet smell of Reinhard's hair, holding him close.

Author's Note

it never seemed realistic to me that the FPA could be conquered anywhere close to bloodlessly, even if the government surrendered. anyway, i also think that reinhard would be way less willing to do the whole "I'm the bait in the yang wenli trap" deal if he was not borderline suicidal due to chronic lack of kircheis, so i feel like the whole capturing of the FPA would have gone down...very differently. anyway the end result of this is that kircheis has some unspecified amount of blood very firmly on his hands. whoops.

hello to all my oberstein stans. honestly i know it's hard for people to not sort themselves into the 'oberstein did nothing wrong' or 'oberstein is the literal devil' camps but i am trying, as per usual, to have a nuanced oberstein take. unfortunately the problem with me is that the instant i start spending time in a character's head and trying to pick apart their motivations, the more sympathetic towards them i become lol

kircheis is such a black box. an enigma. you put that man's empty eyes next to anything and it means something and nothing at the same time. someone the other day (who knows who or how long ago it was lol) was talking about how kircheis is honestly probably pretty fucking scary to anybody who does not know him and see him go ^_^ on a regular basis. he's so tall and strong and dead eyed and devoted to a ruthless conqueror. anyway i hope you all feel that i have done right by him in this chapter lol

i cannot stress enough that if you want more "good man who commits unspeakable acts of violence because of love for his universe ruling husband " content, you should read my /other/ gay space opera, in the shadow of heaven [rewrite hosted on ao3]. aymon and halen (the pair in question) are a somewhat more fucked up variant of reinhard and kircheis. minus the chronic illness plot

because honestly the chronic illness reinhard plot bores me. i don't want to write sick fic tbh, and i'm hoping that by getting it out now I will not be obligated to cover it in WIaW because (yawn). logh has a really fucking weird commentary on like disability and illness, and maybe someday i will want to address that, but i would want to come up with an actual plot built around addressing it. that's not this, and it's not wiaw either. so [shrug emoji]

anyway. let me know what you think!

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