Keiji is spirited away to Bleakvale by Charlotte after making his life-altering decision. He then sees firsthand how Nohr's commonfolk live.
Realization
Walking with Charlotte for a long while brings you to a crossroads. The road's left fork leads to a gnarled forest pathway, while the right will take you back toward the Ice Tribe Village. Your escort nudges you in the direction of those wonderfully inviting Nohrian oaks.
The deeper you travel, the more astounded you are by Charlotte's sense of direction. How in the Light Dragon's name she knows her way around is beyond you. Everything looks the same. Trees here. Pits there. Dead wolves hang from bloody branches and bleached bones litter the dirt.
"Nohr certainly hosts some inviting scenery," you say sarcastically, arms folded behind your back as you walk.
"Having second thoughts?" Charlotte asks, leading a short ways ahead of you.
"None," you reply flatly. "I did what I did for Corrin and Flora's sakes. I stand by it."
"Being honest, you putting your life on the line like you did kinda shocked me," Charlotte comments, stopping and turning around. "Putting yourself at risk without knowing the outcome was kinda reckless, way I see it. That and you had no idea how Lady Camilla might've reacted."
"You're right. I didn't have a clue." You lean up against a tree and fold your arms.
"And yet you did it anyway." Charlotte joins you. Together, the two of you perch for a quick break.
"I did. And I would do so again," you add with surety.
The lady fighter snorts, then frowns with her usual bitterness. "Then you really are an idiot," she jabs. "Because there's no way out for you now, I hope you realize that. Anything I say is unlikely to change Camilla's mind should she decide she doesn't want you."
"I'm aware."
"And that doesn't scare you?"
"Of course it does," you answer with a nod. "But the needs of others come before my own."
The rebellious spark within you flares again. Fleeting but no less alive, it signals your dissatisfaction with the very Hoshidan ideal you just championed at the expense of your own wellbeing. "And besides," you continue. "Your words this morning weren't lost to me. Regarding everything. A part of my wonders if maybe, just maybe..." You glance downward to your open palms and squeeze them into closed fists.
"That there might be a place for you in Nohr?" Charlotte wonders.
You look to the girl. She smiles smugly, as though congratulating herself. "Something of that ilk, yes," you answer with a slight frown.
Though traitorous, you wonder if there might be a better way to bring peace than merely following Hoshido's teachings to the letter. The last few days have revealed a world far grayer in nature than you believed. One where not all Nohrians are cruel. One where Camilla pines to rebuild her fractured family, also.
"Then maybe you're not so short-sighted after all," Charlotte praises. Taking your hand into hers, she pulls away from the tree. "And if pleading your case to Camilla again helps keep you alive, I guess I'll do it one more time." The blonde leads you by the hand several steps further down the forest's dirt track. "But you'll owe me big time, and I mean big."
You smile. There's warmth behind Charlotte's mercenary nature, you can tell. "And what, my good lady, might you seek in return?" Her price, you can only wonder.
"A sparring partner, for one. And a bedmate wouldn't go amiss, either," the lassie reveals with a wink.
There are worse prices to pay. "Enjoyed our time together last night, did you?"
Her cheeks reddening a touch, Charlotte frowns. "A girl gets lonely, alright?" she counters with a defensive undertone. Her grip on your hand tightens too. "And contrary to the reputation I've built for myself... I care about things other than money."
You recall how the lassie almost burst into tears when Camilla pledged to help her parents. "Like your family, I assume?"
"Um-hmm." Charlotte's expression becomes tender. "Momma and Daddy are my world. Even though we didn't have shit to our names, they did everything they could to give me a good life. It weren't always easy, and it sure as hell weren't always fun, but they did it because they love me."
"And so you want to repay them."
"More than anything; and Lady Camilla's given me the means to do it now."
"I'll bet you're relieved to drop the 'darling damsel' act," you chuckle.
"Gods be praised, yes," answers Charlotte with a drawn-out groan. "And I can quit chasing after puffed-up noblemen at balls, too."
"You're certainly the last woman I'd expect to find laid on her back in some gout-swollen highborn's bedchamber."
"I would've smiled and bared it; and probably kept a lover on the side too. Nobles do it all the time in Nohr. Although..." Charlotte appears a touch dejected all of the sudden. "Baring children in a loveless marriage would've been hard." Shrugging off the gloom, she smirks. "If I ever have children of my own, I want them to have the same love my parents gave me when I grew up. It'd be the least I could do for the little runts."
"A noble sentiment, one I can't fault." Your mother was endlessly supportive, despite your troubles as a youth.
"You ever thought about it, siring a child?" Charlotte asks.
A bittersweet pain grips your chest at the notion "I'd be a terrible parent. Unlike you, I bare too much resentment toward my father."
"Was he not around or something? There were plenty of those in Windmire's slums."
"He died when I was twelve," you explain with a grim undertone.
"Sickness? That's how most went where I grew up," Charlotte laments with a deep exhale.
"He died in battle; he threw himself at a Nohrian cavalryman during a skirmish so an injured comrade might escape. His passing left me with naught but a sword and a host of questions; questions I tried ignoring through enlisting as a swordsman's apprentice in my youth. It did little good."
Shaking off the memory, you cleanse your pain with a deep breath in and out. "Do forgive me," you follow with a hint of guilt. "My past is of little interest to anyone, I'm sure."
"It's alright, Keiji," Charlotte reassures with a gentle smile. "We've all got our burdens. In all seriousness though, the more we talk, the more I see we have in common. And that sure as heck ain't a bad thing. Not the way I see it, anyway."
An observation you hadn't made thus far. But one you're no less intrigued by.
"Go on, indulge me," you encourage, raising a cautious brow.
"Well, we were both want more out of our lives, for one. Me for my parents, and you for the sake of getting stronger, given what Flora said about you."
"A point I'll concede. Though it goes far beyond wanting to get stronger for strength's sake."
"You want power; power to change things, right?" Charlotte guesses, the two of you stepping over a fallen tree stump and continuing down the path.
"Flora told you as much, I take it?"
"She did. Then our fights made a lot more sense to me... And the reason you fawn over Camilla's sister too." Charlotte narrows her eyes, an air of inquisitiveness about her. "I'll bet being in her company so often makes you feel really powerful. And it ain't just about serving Hoshido, is it?"
"How little you know." Quietly irritated by the lady fighter's assumption, you snatch your hand away.
"I'm guessing I plucked a few strings, hmm?" Charlotte teases.
"No, you haven't," you insist.
"Then why'd you let go of my hand just now? You were fine holding it all this time. It's because I'm right, aren't I?"
"Careful, Charlotte," you advise, biting the corner of your lip and hardening your stare.
"What're you gonna do Samurai, strike at me?" the blonde antagonizes, taking your hand into hers again. "I wouldn't recommend it."
"Fine, you win." You by no means desire a scuffle right now, though you're not lacking in temptation. "You aren't wrong about Corrin. Though her kindness warms my heart, I've long desired the means to earn prestige. So I might make a difference and not feel so powerless."
"Knew it." Charlotte's smugness only intensifies. "And yet I'm still curious."
"About what, exactly?"
"About why a guy like you desires power," Charlotte clarifies. "You've earned a princess's ear and her affections. Should Camilla let you go free again, you're guarenteed to live well. Well, so long as Hoshido doesn't lose this war. You'll be welcomed home as a hero."
You scoff. "My country isn't one for heroic welcomes, not by any stretch of the imagination," you explain cynically. "I'll be praised for my service by Lord Ryoma, rewarded a shiny new sword, and then put right back to work after a day's leave. It's what happened last time."
"But there's no glory in that!" Charlotte blurts, honestly astounded.
"Service is its own reward in Hoshido. It always has been."
"When you put that way it's a wonder you didn't hand yourself over sooner."
"I didn't do so by choice," you remind the blonde. "Don't misunderstand my actions."
"Well you wouldn't have done so unless you stood to gain something," she speculates. "So just fess up already."
Charlotte's persistence annoys you. "I already told you," you grumble, "I seek the means to get stronger."
"That's too vague, I ain't taking it," the lady fighter dismisses. "I've fought you enough times to see how driven you are. And it's not just for the good of Hoshido, or some crap like that. You're focused, Keiji. There's a fire in you, and it so hot it makes my heart race. So... what is it?"
You've not the energy to keep dodging the question.
"In truth... I'd like to see this war be the last," you begin, a hopeful glow filling your chest. "And I'd like to see a world where someone fights for us commoners... so we need not suffer needlessly." You recall Okashi, its flames and its torment. "After all, it's people like us who fight on the frontlines; people like us who die. Lords and royals live in their estates and palaces with droves of guards. But not everyone is as lucky as them.
"In an ideal world I'd fight for those who cannot fight for themselves; for the little people. So we never see another village raised, or another child deprived of a parent they love." Reality striking home, you shake your head scornfully. "But that's all it will ever be, a dream. Because everybody in Hoshido values their duty and their ideals above all else. Nothing changes, and I don't know how to break free."
Charlotte stops in her tracks. She gazes into you thoughtfully for many moments. "Hmmm..." She ponders.
"What is it?" You narrow your eyes. "Are you planning on mocking me?"
"Not at all," the lass answers with a shake of the head. "In fact, now I'm even more interested in you. So, I'll say what's on my mind. Keiji, you didn't just surrender to Camilla because you had to. You did it for yourself, because you want more than what you have or what Hoshido gave you. I know that because you and I are alike." Charlotte's cheeks pinken. "It's why I like being with you so much. You're a fighter, and you know what you want."
Your heart kicks in your chest, a shameful wave washing over you. "...But I didn't," you insist. "It was a decision made in an instant."
Charlotte tugs you closer. Her expression heats to one of knowing intensity. "Even if it was, I'll bet somewhere deep down you wanted it; to cast aside all of your burdens and your duties. You won't persuade me otherwise. Not after all the fun we had drinking and singing last night. You didn't hate a single one of my comrades. You treated them really nicely, and they did the same for you." Charlotte snickers. "Even after the punch-up."
Bested, you hang your head. You sigh deeply and exhaustedly.
There's no sense lying to yourself. Not anymore.
"You're right. Or at least to some degree you are. A part of me resents Lord Ryoma... for what he allowed to happen to my fiance. One of his retainers could have done something about it, but she didn't. I've had my doubts for a while. And now, having seen a kinder side to Nohr..." You hold your head in your hands and groan. This situation is maddening. "I just don't know what to do anymore. My duty or my feelings. I... I'm lost."
"No you're not, Keiji," Charlotte says lovingly. You bring your hands away from your face and smile weakly.
The blonde wraps her arms around your middle and draws you into a hug. "You're not lost... because you've got me," she pledges. "And knowing what I do about you now, I'm gonna fight for you. I'll do everything I can to make sure Camilla knows you'll be useful to her cause."
Closing your eyes and pulling her close to your chest, you accept her warmth. "Thank you, truly." A tear leaks from your eye and rolls down your cheek.
"It's my pleasure. And don't worry," Charlotte giggles, "this isn't some act, either. Even a girl from the slums has a little love in her when it's called for." She rises to her tiptoes and kisses your cheek. "Just don't go getting used to it, alright?" The lassie lets go of you with her piece said. You open your eyes again.
"I wouldn't dream of it," you answer affectionately, offering your hand. "So, how far is Bleakvale?"
"We're almost there," Charlotte tells you, taking your hand. The two of you continue walking. "And not a moment too soon, too. I can't wait to rest."
"They have an inn, I take it?"
"Two. And one in particular should offer us somewhere warm for the night."
"And what of money?" The two of you left with nothing in the way of belongings. "I've nothing beside a small bag of silver."
"Hmph, don't you worry about that," Charlotte dismisses with a smug smile. "This particular inn we'll be staying at is loyal to Camilla. Heck, so is the whole town. Moreover, me being her enforcer comes with a few perks. Even if the room they give us ain't too pretty, we won't need coin."
Charlotte's words confuse you. "Loyal to the princess? Does the town pay its taxes to her?"
"Not quite... but I've said too much. Don't worry about it, Keiji. All that matters is we'll be comfortable for the night."
Tired from walking, you're content to let the thought go. "Fine then. Let us focus on getting somewhere warmer."
Charlotte nods as if indicating it's a wise choice. Hand in hand, the two of you continue ahead.
"Okay. We're here. Bleakvale. Welcome to Nohr-proper." Charlotte casts an arm outward in welcome.
You find the town's name rather apt at a glance.
Barely after the gnarled trees stop, buildings begin. The main (and only cobblestone road in sight) is cramped. Smashed carts and discarded barrels block it in several places too. Wooden two-story homes are crammed closely together in single-file lines on either side of the street. Many of them sport faded paint and have holes in their roofs. A fair few don't look too stable, either. The one nearest you tilts slightly.
You cough. Thick ash hanging in the air irritates your throat. Smog billows from chimneystacks, partially obscuring the night sky in a gloomy haze.
Many of the town's denizens trudging through the street wear ripped and tattered cloaks, while their faces are weathered and muddy. The farther you walk, the harder it becomes to keep your composure. This isn't an isolated instance. Plenty more men and women appear grubby and deprived.
"This is dreadful," you utter beneath your breath. "Such poverty. Such squalor..."
You catch the sight of little girl with ratty golden hair. Like so many others, her clothes are tatty. She sits with her legs pressed against her chest, huddled on the doorstep of what you imagine is her home. Scratches score her ashy face. Worse still, one of her eyes is bruised.
You stop in your tracks, compelled to speak with the young Miss. The second you get closer however, she squeaks and darts from your reach.
The girl's fearful outburst catches Charlotte's attention, whom stops in her tracks and turns around. There's a notable shift in her nonchalant manner as she looks between you and the child. She's disheartened, gloomy even.
"Leave this to me," Charlotte instructs you. Breezing past, she kneels beside the young girl. "Hello there, little one," she greets the urchin somewhat warmly. "My name's Charlotte," she continues, pointing to herself. "How are you faring, hmm?"
"Mother said talking to strangers gets me in trouble," the girl replies fearfully. "B-But you seem nice, Lady."
"Well thank you."
The girl points at Charlotte's clothes. Her frightened eyes glint with hope, becoming the smallest bit brighter. "You're a soldier, aren't you lady?"
"I certainly am." The buxom fighter nods.
"Good, I'm glad." The girl smiles weakly. "Will you please beat those meanie Hoshidans so we can have some food?"
"Hold on," you interject, a hand raised. "You've no food to eat?"
"Not a morsel, mister," the girl answers somewhat sadly, shaking her head. "And we've no coin to buy more, either."
Nobody goes hungry in Hoshido. Not even the poor. Fish and rice are shared between less fortunate townships. If you're too sick to work then poorhouses provide. Yes, the nobility sometimes stake claim to more than they need, but the royalty stop them in the (rare) worst cases. While the everyday people sometimes deal with shortages, you've never seen in your life a young one so small and weak as the girl before you.
So far, you've been able to keep your composure. No longer. "Then allow me to help," you offer, bringing out a small drawstring bag from your trouser pocket. Dipping inside, you take out a couple of shiny silver coins. "Take these and find something to eat. There's a market in this town, is there not?"
The girl's eyes turn bigger than saucers, but she's quick to frown again. Even as you place the money in her tiny hands. "There is, mister. But there's no food to buy today," she tells you. The big scary men in armor came 'n took it all away. I was there when it happened, with mom. They said it was for the soldiers."
Charlotte snatches your money and stashes it with a look of urgency about her. Bidding the child farewell, she pulls out of sight and down the dimly lit side street beside the house. Her eyes sharpen like razors. "Okay! Rule number one," she begins sternly, "don't wave coin about in towns like these. Ever."
Taking the money out from her pocket, she shoves it into your hands. "And rule number two, handouts attract unwanted attention."
Stashing the coin on your person, you frown. "I was only trying to help," you grumble.
"You don't understand, clearly," Charlotte says with a roll of her eyes. "We're not in sunny warm Hoshido. The trees aren't blossoming and the birds sure as hell aren't singing. Folk are poor, dirty 'n angry in hovels like these. They work? They eat. They fall sick? Most die."
A notion your Hoshidan upbringing can't entertain, as conflicted as you've been as of late.
"And what, pray tell, would you have me do?" you ask with a scathing undertone. "Allow the poor mite to starve?"
"Of course not!" Charlotte fires back somewhat angrily. But the nobles care not for one such as her."
"So you're saying we do nothing?" you half-ask and half assert with a disgusted undertone.
"Wake up, idiot! There's naught you and I can do." Grabbing your collar, Charlotte tugs you closer. "But you needn't stress over it," she adds with a smirk
"And why is that, dare I ask?"
Releasing you, Charlotte points past you. Behind you. "Look there."
You turn around. Drawn onto the house's side in white paint is the familiar Nohrian insignia. Written beneath it are a host of letters you can't understand.
"Mind translating?" you request. "It isn't as though I can read written Nohrian."
Stepping past you, Charlotte places a digit beneath the unknown word. "'Nohr's Light'. That's what it says."
"Is that supposed to mean something?" you ponder with a confused undertone.
Charlotte steps back from the wall. Folding her arms behind her back, she winks. "A loyalist insignia, one which represents big changes in our midst. And should you see more of these markings, drawn onto buildings and the like, be sure you don't raise attention to the fact. Got it? It's important."
Though uncertain of the reason why, you nod all the same. "Understood."
"Good." Satisfied, Charlotte grabs your hand. "Then let's get on our way."
You return to the main street and further into the heart of Bleakvale. You're presented some very hostile glances from townsfolk as you go, too. Hand-in-hand with your escort, you pass several empty market stalls with closed shutters on your travels. A pack ofscrawny dogs also wander by in search of food.
Further still you go, nearing a wide alleyway. A cloaked individual brandishing a dagger stands ahead of the path, blocking any would-be wanderers from traversing its depths. A young lad, his blonde hair is messy and a small scar trails across his left cheek. Charlotte stops and spares the individual a nod - one the fellow returns before stepping aside. The same white Nohrian insignia as the one painted onto the wall is stitched into the front of his cloak.
"For Nohr's Light," the lad says with dedication, raising a hand to his heart.
"For Nohr's Light," Charlotte answers with equal diligence. Gripping your hand a touch tighter, she continues ahead.
At the alleyway's end, you arrive in a small cul-de-sac lined with houses. The Nohr's Light insignia paints the doors of several homes largely and proudly.
At the ring of home's center stands a larger (and far cleaner) three-story abode - this one of fine stonecraft. You've frequented enough inns to know one when you see one. The artfully checked glass windows are pleasing to the eye, and faint whiff of perfume help ease the stench of soot and smoke that looms over the town. A signpost hangs above the inn doorway; one you again can't read. It sports a picture of well-endowed maiden carrying large foamy jugs of ale.
"We're here," Charlotte announces, letting go of you. Best behavior, understood?"
"Loud and clear," you answer with a bow of the head.
Charlotte enters the inn. You follow.
Stark contrast strikes you like a fireball upon entering. The interior is well polished and taken care of. A handful of tables line the wall nearest the door. Plump folk donning velvet robes huddle around them; they sip from wine glasses and chatter loudly. Their plates lay full to overflowing with cuts of bloody meat and warm doughy white bread. You know wealthy merchants when you see them. They're all portly and rosy-cheeked. Most are also swollen with gout beneath their fancy clothes at a guess. One man sitting at the table nearest you even has a maid wiping the crumbs from his slimy, puffy lips.
Charlotte leans close so she might bend your ear. "Merchant's loyal to Camilla," she explains in a low voice. "Their agents see supplies taken from the lord's larders and shared amongst the town... for a favor here and there. Worry not, Keiji. Come morning that little girl will have something to eat."
"And the lord won't notice?" you ask with a raised brow, honestly astounded by the amount of food on display.
Charlotte scoffs disdainfully. "Hardly. They smuggle out but a tiny fraction of what's on offer, and even that's enough to feed half of Bleakvale twice over."
You whistle, honestly impressed. "And to think I didn't believe Camilla a force for good."
"Her Ladyship is far kinder than you think. As a royal, she has the means to be, too. Provided she twists arms here and there."
"I see that. But still..." From Camilla's intense mission to capture Corrin to all you see here in Bleakvale, very little makes sense. "Just why is the princess going to all of this trouble? With this. And with Corrin. I'm at a loss, truly."
"You'll learn more should Camilla keep you around. Now, stay put here for a second." Charlotte pats you on the shoulder. "I'll go get us a room." Separating from you, she goes on over to the bar across from the dining area. Further from her, talking patrons leave you unable to hear Charlotte chatter with the girl pouring drinks.
You lean up by one of the support beams nearest and fold your arms. "Waiting it is," you utter.
Some time passes.
Many folks wearing ragged clothes have entered the tavern and left with little food parcels as you've waited. Most were provided a generous helping of brown grain bread and cheese. Those who came with children were even given with a small helping of meat or fish. Most recognizable among the dozen or so individuals who've come and gone was the little girl you and Charlotte met out in the streets. A young woman you assumed to be her mother guided her in by the hand. After talking to one of the tavern girls, the pair received food to eat and went on their way.
Witnessing such sights in Nohr of all places has you feeling regret for having been so judgemental.
"She has those with influence steal from the rich and provide for the poor," you reflect quietly. "Again I'm proven wrong."
"Got it!" Charlotte calls out to you from the bar. She returns to you with a rusty key jangling between her fingers. "Let's go. Upstairs. We're in the attic."
"Thank the Light Dragon," you exhale, pushing off from the support pillar.
Charlotte begins toward the staircase. You follow after her.
You and your blonde companion stand at the end of a narrow hallway with a low ceiling after having traversed three flights of creaky old stairs. Ahead of you both waits a cobweb-slaked oaken door with a warn brass handle.
"Well, this is it," says Charlotte as she readies the door key.
"Whatever awaits, I'll just be grateful for a sit down," you tell her with a short exhale.
"You and me both," the Nohrian lassie agrees. She puts the key into the hole beneath the handle and turns it. There follows a click. The hinges squeak gently as Charlotte brings the door wide and steps inside the room. You step inside after her.
"Not bad," you appraise, sweeping your lodgings with a cursory glance. "I've slept in worse on my travels."
The attic space you will call home for the evening is small and cobweb-laden. There are probably more spiders lodging in here than people within the inn itself. A lumpy looking double bed with space enough for the both of you sits beneath the cobweb covered skylight toward the room's back. To its left-hand side is an aged nightstand with a lit, half-burned wax candle and clay washbasin. To the left of it a dusty trunk. Folded linens sit atop of it.
Sighing thankfully, Charlotte sits down. Flopping against the mattress, she lays out across its centre. "This right here is a palace compared to some of the inns in Windmire's slums," she yawns deeply, stretching out her arms and legs. "I sure as heck ain't scoffing at such a lovely big bed."
You sit at the foot of the bed and get to work untying your bootlaces.
"You may have it to yourself if you so wish," you tell Charlotte while removing your footwear. "I shall prop myself against the footboard and sleep there."
"Scared I'll bite, Keiji?" she teases.
"Hardly. If anything, I simply prefer to watch the door when staying in places I'm unfamiliar with. Force of habit."
"Sounds kinda paranoid if you ask me," Charlotte scoffs, sitting upright and resting her hands in her lap.
You've good enough reason for it. "You'd do the same if you were in enemy territory."
"Ain't nobody gonna hurt you here, Samurai. The Madame who owns this joint is loyal to Camilla."
You recall some of the unsavory looks you got while walking Bleakvale's streets. "I'd still rather play it safe," you resolve adamantly.
"Fair enough," Charlotte agrees, touching a hand to your shoulder. "I suppose I'll bed down there with you then."
"You needn't sacrifice comfort on my account." You glance over. Charlotte smiles softly with pinkened cheeks.
Her smile widens smugly. "I ain't giving you a choice in the matter, you're warm," she tells you, her smile widening. "And that besides, I like my cuddles every now and then."
"And suppose I'm not in an affectionate mood this evening?" you ask teasingly.
Charlotte mock frowns and raises a balled fist. "Then I'll just have to punch you until you can't say no, I suppose."
You can't help but chuckle. "Ever the lady, Miss Charlotte."
"But of course, milord," she follows in her most darling of voices. The sort reserved for lords at balls, you'll wager.
There comes a pause. Then the two of you erupt into laughter.
True to her word, Charlotte cuddled up beside you on the floor with a couple of blankets. Huddled together for warmth, the two of you have been trying to get to sleep for a while now. You can't speak for your Nohrian companion, but you always struggle when it comes to relaxing your thoughts after a long day.
More than usual. You can't reflecting upon how bizarre everything has become. "How life works in strange ways."
"Whaddya mean?" Charlotte asks, opening an eye. "I don't follow."
"How many times have we tried to kill one-another in these recent days? Three? Four? Now look at us, huddled together like this."
"Don't overthink it," she advises with a weak smile. "It's perfectly normal for today's enemy to be tomorrow's friend."
Now here's a pleasant surprise. "'Friend'," you repeat the blonde's single word. It feels nice. "I never imagined you'd call me that."
"Neither did I," Charlotte admits, her hold upon you tightening protectively.
The two of you join hands, linking your fingers. A small comfort in this hostile place - but a comfort nonetheless. A question yet colors your thoughts - even as you try drifting off to sleep. "Say, Charlotte?"
"What is it?"
"How do the commoners survive? This land being so harsh and all, I mean."
"Those without Camilla's help? By the grace of the gods, mostly," Charlotte answers, sighing. "Royals declare war; nobles pressure the poor for taxes, and then the weak go hungry. Think about the skinny runt we saw earlier. You might not believe it, but I was like her once, when I was small."
You tighten your grip on Charlotte's hand. "That's far from fair," you remark. "It's downright disgusting."
"Which is why so many commoners flock to Camilla nowadays. Between Nohr's usual troubles and the war, folks are tired. They want change. What you saw is a normal day in Nohr, Keiji. But it might not always be like that... should the princess have her way."
You've heard plenty of vague mentions of Camilla having some plan for the greater good. You've even seen it through your own eyes as of today. What you'd like more than ever is to know what Garon's daughter is really planning.
"And what exactly does she intend?" you ask, hopeful you might receive an answer.
"It ain't for me to tell you that, Keiji," Charlotte answers with a wink. "But should Camilla keep you around, I'm sure she'll tell you soon enough."
The adamant undertone to the lassie's voice is all too clear. "Fair enough, I shall leave it alone for now."
"Good choice. Now, shut up and cuddle with me, won't you?"
"As you wish." You snuggle up with Charlotte as asked, holding her close to your chest for warmth and comfort.
The girl exhales gratefully, resting her head in the nape of your neck. "This is nice," she utters contentedly.
"It most certainly is."
"Umm-hmm. Call me an idiot, but I could get used to this," Charlotte says affectionately.
"Was that a compliment, Miss Charlotte?"
"It might have been, if I were that way inclined."
Your heart flutters in for an instant, foolishness be damned. "I knew there was someone nice beneath that brutish temper."
Charlotte closes her eyes, smirking. "Don't push your luck, Samurai."
"I wouldn't dream of it." Heartbeat quickening amidst the tender moment, you take a chance and press your lips to Charlotte's temple. A precious gesture. The lady fighter shivers against your touch. Then she returns the gesture in kind, but against your cheek.
Tiredness claiming your body, you close your eyes.
You focus on the faint chatterings of patrons and pubgoers downstairs; they calm your thoughts.
Heavier and heavier you feel.
Sleep's gift embraces you, carrying you away.
To be continued...
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