"I am Augustus Rowe," the man said as Sylvain and Ashe walked to the drawbridge that had lowered. The two parties stood with distance between them, on either ends of the platform. "This is my bodyguard, Gwendal."

Augustus was shorter that the staunch knight, sporting vibrant red hair that was tied back in a neat braid. He was barely older than Sylvain, but had the same determination in his eyes.

"A pleasure," Sylvain called out, not knowing anything else to say other than pleasantries. "You know who I am. This is Ashe Lonato," he said, gesturing to the archer who had yet to put his bow down. That comforted Sylvain, giving him a bit more ease at the situation.

Augustus bowed low, like a subservient man would. "The pleasure is mine, Margrave. I thank you for meeting with me." His eyes darted to the side as he saw Felix emerge from the crowd and make a beeline for his husband's side. Though Gwendal carried no weapons, Sylvain could see the on-edge man shift like he meant to draw a sword.

"What's going on?" Felix muttered, glaring at Augustus. "Then hell is Rowe's brat doing here?"

Sylvain didn't answer, instead introducing him. "And this is Felix Fraldarius, my husband."

"Charmed. I am Count Augustus Rowe," he said, bowing again.

"Count?" Sylvain caught, eyes widening.

Augustus nodded. "House Rowe has seen a leadership change. My father is no longer with us, and I have taken up his mantle."

"My condolences," Sylvain said. "I didn't know him well."

Augustus nodded. "May we approach? I'd rather not shout this conversation. As you can see, we have no weapons. Keep yours if you wish, as a symbol of good faith from us."

From the way Gwendal shifted, the knight did not like that. Sylvain glanced at his companions and nodded. "You may."

Augustus and Gwendal walked forward, the former wasting no time. "Margrave, I come to you to make peace."

Sylvain froze. "I beg your pardon? Your house has long since been opposed to peace with our side."

"You are correct, to a degree. My father had opposed peace, willing to side with the Empire to get what he wanted. I am under no such delusions," Augustus said.

"What happened to your father?" Felix asked, bluntly.

"We had a disagreement. I killed him," Augustus said, not breaking eye contact with Sylvain.

"I think you'd better explain yourself," Sylvain said, hiding his shock. At his side, Ashe frowned and Felix was mute, face contorted in thought.

Augustus nodded. "I'll be blunt, Cornelia has disappeared after the last battle. Our Empire allies are all but gone here. The Death Knight's army was called back to Enbarr to fight the Alliance, so alone we stand. You might see this as admitting weakness, but I'd present it as an olive branch. No longer am I held at swordpoint by the Empire. I may pursue the peace this nation needs."

"Why should we trust someone who killed their parent?" Felix snarled. Inwardly, Sylvain winced at the underlying emotion in his voice.

Augustus was unperturbed. "You needn't, only my motives. My father wanted to abolish the system of Crests in this nation, as our family never had one in our bloodline. He wanted a nation where he could hold power for what his blood lacked."

That stirred an odd emotion in Sylvain. "And you feel differently?"

"On the contrary," Augustus said. "I feel the same. Crests are a relic of the past, one we ought to do away with. One that has spurred much of the conflict we see today. I come to you, Sylvain Gautier, because I know you feel the same."

"What?" Sylvain couldn't help but blurt, surprised.

"Your distaste for your Crest isn't hidden knowledge," Augustus said. "My father declared war on House Blaiddyd to stoke change. I supported him on that front. But where he sought power, I seek progress."

Ashe finally spoke up. "And why would you seek peace now? Why not reach an agreement with us at the start of the war?"

Augustus nodded. "Fair question. But that would have meant treating with House Blaiddyd, a dynasty that's been in power by virtue of Crests for centuries. We both know our cries would have fallen on deaf ears. Nor do I wish to see another Blaiddyd in power."

"So you'd see a meritocracy like Edelgard wants?" Ashe probed further.

He shook his head. "If that's the way progress points, then sure. But I don't do this for a system of government."

"Then what do you do it for?" Sylvain asked.

For the first time, Augustus clammed up. He sighed, then spoke. "I had a sibling. My father's true heir, actually. For all he hated Crests, my father was eager to adopt a child just because they had a Crest. It should come as little surprise when my sibling left our home after my father wanted them to bear Crested children." Augustus' eyes flashed with anger. "If my sibling did not have a Crest, they would have died on the street. I'll not tolerate a world that abides those rules."

"And you thought you'd find sympathetic ears among those who have had poor experiences due to Crests?" Sylvain guessed, thinking about how similar Rowe sounded to his father.

"Yes. This country needs change. House Blaiddyd wouldn't bring it and my father would sooner sell us to the Imperials to get it. I think there's a path we can walk together," Augustus said. "One where my sibling never would have needed to flee. I think a Gautier in power might do the trick."

"Not a Rowe?" Felix asked.

Augustus shrugged. "Maybe if our positions were reversed. But I'm the one you're about to besiege. I know not to overplay my hand."

Felix paused for a moment, then said, "Yuri is what they're calling themselves now. They're okay, last I heard."

Augustus stepped forward and Ashe's bow lifted in warning. The Count stopped, eyes locked on Felix. "You…you met my sibling?"

"I know a friend of theirs. He's doing well, from what I've heard," Felix said.

Augustus smiled, jubilant. "Goddess, that is a relief. I…I haven't seen them in years. Not since…" He shook his head. "You've given me something to think on, and I wager I've done the same for you. Take time, discuss it."

"You surrender and we dismantle the Crest system," Ashe said, summing it up. Sylvain couldn't deny, that was an intoxicating offer. One he'd admit to have dreamed of for a long time.

Augustus nodded. "I'd never follow nor trust a Blaiddyd to do that. But a King Gautier? Now that I could."

"I don't trust him," Felix said, immediately after they were alone in their tent.

Augustus and Gwendal had gone back within Arianrhod, leaving Sylvain to grapple with the path before him. No one said it, but it went unspoken that he would be the one to make the decision.

"I've met him at social functions before," Sylvain murmured. "All the girls always called him crazy. Politically, that is."

Felix paced back and forth, screwing up his face in that way he did when he was on edge. "How so?"

When he was like this, all Sylvain could really do was appeal to reason. "He's always had ideas about dissolving the political system of Faerghus. Wanted to give the power to the people."

"So he's an anarchist," Felix said.

Sylvain shook his head. "No, I think he just wants to change things. Dissolving a system doesn't necessitate nothing to replace it. He's always been outspoken, and it's ostracized him. There's a reason this Yuri was the heir, not Augustus."

"I still don't trust him."

"Why?"

Felix looked away. "You can't trust a patricide."

Logic be damned. Sylvain was at his side, resting a hand tentatively on his shoulder. A silent question of permission. Felix didn't push him away.

Sylvain held him. "This isn't about him, is it?"

Felix said nothing.

"I'd never judge you for that, Felix. I don't. I trust you as much today as I did on our wedding day. I trust you as much as I did before then, too. You're my one, my only." Sylvain fixed him with a look that Felix barely met. "Of everything to doubt in this world, I'm not part of it."

"I didn't feel guilty before," Felix whispered. "But seeing him stand there, unbothered…is that what I'm like?"

His heart rent in two, but he didn't show it. "You can't compare yourself with him. You and Rodrigue…what you two were was completely different than whatever Augustus had. What matters is what you think about it."

"You didn't answer my question," Felix muttered.

"And I don't care to, because it doesn't matter," Sylvain said. "I know how you feel. I know what your father was like. I…know what he asked of you. I will never hold that against you."

His husband turned away, hiding his face. "Thanks," he said, brusque.

From anyone else, Sylvain wouldn't accept that. From Felix, that meant he'd gotten through. "So, that aside, what do you think we should do?"

Felix shrugged. "I just hit things with my sword. I don't know anything about politics."

"We're going to rule a nation of corpses, if we're not careful," Sylvain said. "The Charons were wiped out. The Shrike murdered the Kleimans. Now the Rowes are nearly gone."

"All for a power struggle," Felix supplied with dark snark.

"Maybe Rowe's right. Maybe…maybe change is what's needed," Sylvain admitted.

His husband chuckled. "It'd piss my father off, so there's that."

Were nobles so qualified to rule? Were men like Sylvain's father, or Miklan? Rodrigue? Dimitri? All of them had such visceral faults, letting the wellbeing of the people fall aside in the face of their petty desires.

Maybe Edelgard had the right of it. That thought twisted his guts more than he cared to admit. Was…was this the wrong side he was on?

"No," Ashe said when he voiced the concerns to him. "She started this war, unprovoked."

"But—"

Ashe shook his head. "You can agree with her ideals. Goddess knows I can understand them, and perhaps even agree with some of them. She has broad support from her people precisely because her ideas are supported. But to agree with her doesn't invalidate what you've done. It doesn't make you evil. This is war, not a fairy tale."

Sylvain was an odd sight, sitting on a bale of hay outside the most fortified fortress in the land. Ashe sat across from him, restringing a bow.

"So you think I should do it? Take Augustus' offer?"

Ashe sighed. "Peace sounds nice. I'm inclined to take anything that stops the violence."

"But?"

"But if you make peace with Augustus, he will become an integral part of the new government we create. Be it monarchy, republic, whatever." Ashe looked at Sylvain. "Can you reconcile with that?"

Though Augustus didn't make mention of shattering the system of nobility, Sylvain wasn't naïve to think he'd never try and push for it. You didn't lead with a divisive opinion in negotiations. Augustus would make sure the ruling families of the new Faerghus wouldn't be Crested, but how long would that satisfy him?

And was it really a bad thing?

"Do you think it'd be so bad a system?" Sylvain asked, honestly.

"Government shouldn't be immutable," Ashe said. "Change could be good. Or this country might not be ready for it."

"But what do you think?"

Ashe chuckled, setting down the bow. "Augustus is naïve to think that this is a cure-all. But he's also right to identify what ails this country. The people don't care about what lord rules, they want to be fed. They want to live. It's been five years of war and a decade of instability before then. If we're doing such a bad job of taking care of them, then maybe we ought to yield power."

"And Crests?"

"I don't have one, and the people I oversee are happy. You have one, and you've done a good job too. Crests don't make a person good or evil. But it does limit the pool of choices. Makes it hard to get new blood, pardon the pun."

Crests were a problem that didn't affect the common people. The abuse he'd received because of his wasn't deserved, but did that matter enough to the common people? Like Ashe said, they wanted to live comfortably.

This game of nobles vying for thrones wasn't conducive to that future. Power shouldn't be in the hands of the one.

"Regardless, I agree with him on one thing," Ashe said. "King Gautier will serve the nation better than Blaiddyds."

Sylvain frowned. "How can you be so sure?"

"Look at how many people have flocked to our banner under the reason for the fact that we're not Blaiddyds. In their eyes, Dimitri is dead. That dynasty is over. Between the Empire and Gautier, they picked you, Sylvain. Whether we tear this system down or not, the fact that you're our leader is a change for the better."

Ashe scratched his head. "I guess you're finally getting a straight answer out of me. Yeah, I'd accept the offer. We can deal with Augustus in the future if need be, but we have an opportunity to end this war. We should take it."

Maybe it was just that simple.

"It's not simple matter of making peace," Ingrid said. "You'd be taking his place. The place of your friend."

Sylvain nodded. She wasn't wrong. By what right was Dimitri's birthright his?

"Say he comes back," Ingrid continued. "Say he returns. What then?"

"I think that'd depend on the manner of his return," Sylvain murmured, looking up at Arianrhod from the edge of the mote. Augustus' archers had not fired upon them, true to their word of peace.

"He returns as we knew him before," Ingrid said.

An implausibility. Dimitri was gone. The issue was if Sylvain took power and the people found out Dimitri was alive, it'd be an avenue for someone to vie for power. The Blaiddyd name would carry weight, and they could use it to oppose Gautier rule. So maybe all he'd do is set up a future conflict.

Unless he killed Dimitri.

"I think we both know how likely that is," Sylvain murmured.

For once, Ingrid didn't lash out. She just looked at him and said, "Then why did you come ask me what I think? You knew what I'd say."

"Yeah," he admitted. "Maybe I still needed to hear it."

She nodded. "Augustus seems up front about his intentions, at least. I flew over the fort earlier, he wasn't lying about the Empire pulling out. It's only Rowe soldiers in there."

"Thank you, Ingrid."

"Do you think…" she trailed off.

"Hm?" Sylvain turned back to her.

"That uprising in Rowe not long ago," she said. "Could Augustus have orchestrated that?"

"That," Sylvain said, pausing, "sounds entirely possible."

Ingrid nodded, accepting the answer. "Do what you want, Sylvain. This is your decision. But…whatever you choose, there'll be consequences."

She was acting different, today. Maybe Ashe had finally gotten through to her. Or maybe she was just fucking tired.

Goddess knew she wasn't the only one.

"Thank you, Ingrid."

"Yeah."

At dawn the next day, Count Augustus Rowe met Margrave Sylvain Gautier on the drawbridge.

"I'll admit," Augustus said. "You're here far quicker than I expected."

Sylvain nodded. "Maybe it's to your own credit for your persuasiveness."

"I hold no illusions about the nature of what I'm trying to sell," Augustus said with a half-smile. "I ask for the impossible, yet still I hope."

"I'd open negotiations of peace with you," Sylvain said. "I think you and I can see eye to eye on the fate of this nation."

Augustus' eyes widened before he started to beam. He held out a hand to shake, the first extension of friendship between rebel and loyalist.

When Sylvain shook it, so started the dawn of a new Faerghus.

Author Notes: Shorter than expected, but I'm actually pleased with this one. Of course, this arc isn't so simple as to resolve with a handshake. But more on that next time.

Editing Notes:
10/25/2021: I spelled Gwendal wrong. Oops.
2/18/2022: Minor grammatical adjustments.