Chapter 4
Alfonse had insisted the meeting they would hold in preparation of their next move regarding Veronica's army had to take place in the tent where Fjorm was kept. A few healers had seen her, treating her burns and frostbite, but now the lost princess was battling a fever that wouldn't go down with the help of vulneraries or festals. Kiran, Sharena and Anna had to remember to speak in hushed tones so they wouldn't prevent Alfonse's charge from resting.
"You're very protective of her," Sharena observed.
"It's just seems fair, seeing how badly she was treated."
They had yet to understand who had done this to her and Alfonse was very worried about the potential enemies waiting for them. They could barely handle Veronica's forces as it was, so adding one more opponent… He needed to know more, knowledge truly was the only reason why he even worried about Fjorm. It had nothing to do with the strange feeling he'd felt carrying her in his arms and unto his horse. He'd helped other wounded soldiers before, the fact she was a princess didn't concern him, he was having Kiran summon princesses out of their homeworlds on a daily basis.
Feels wrong when I phrase it like that… he thought.
"How are our supplies?" he asked Anna, hoping that would close the subject.
He didn't need to question his own intentions right now, there was too much on his mind already.
The commander slapped her hand on the hardcover of their books, her light smile not quite reaching her eyes.
"We have enough food to make it through three more weeks, but there were raids on the nearby farms. We might have to steal from the villages in Veronica's territory at this point."
Sharena shook her head at that, her voice coming out stronger than intended, "We can't act like them, we're here to protect everyone, it's not the villagers fault if Veronica set her army right next to their fields."
"But they are feeding her soldiers in exchange for survival, Donnel already explained what was going on out there," Anna pointed out.
Donnel was a villager from the land of Ylisse they'd summoned not too long ago. He was a prodigy as a fighter, despite how barebone his equipment was -the guy was wearing a pot for a helmet and using a stick instead of a lance. They'd sent him on reconnaissance missions a few times to get a feel of the situation in Veronica's territory.
"We'll need more people protecting the restocking routes so we can have enough supplies sent from Askr," Alfonse declared.
Anna nodded. Their convoys had been attacked so many times, they weren't sure which route to use anymore, and the war was turning into a battle of attrition.
"Too bad we can't summon rations, huh, Kiran?"
The tactician didn't even move to acknowledge the red-head, stifling a yawn.
"So sorry for cutting on your 18 hours of sleep," Sharena chided him with a teasing smile.
Kiran huffed a bit too loudly, Fjorm moaning from her side of the tent and the instant glare coming from Alfonse's eyes was enough for his friends to quiet down.
"We'll have Reinhardt and his sister focusing on the convoys's protection. Back them up with Virion and Jorge."
"No close-combat fighters?" Sharena observed.
"They can pick one or two, but we need our troops focused here," Anna declared, taping a spot on the map unfolded on the table between them before going on, "According to Kaze, we will be having company in about three weeks."
"I want to say we take the fight to them before their troops get any closer to our camp," Alfonse started, "but can we even mobilize quickly enough?"
Kiran grunted, reminding them of the number of soldiers they had available. It sounded like they needed to make a lot more summons to feel confident about a straightforward battle, otherwise, they would have to corner a platoon or two of Veronica's army to hold their ground against them.
"We could drive them to follow us down the maze of Anankos," Shareena suggested.
"We will all be at risk of getting lost," Alfonse sighed, "but it would definitely help spreading them out. I can play the bait."
"It's my idea, I should be the one taking the risks!" his sister protested.
Her voice rose enough to wake Fjorm from her feverish daze, the Muspell princess shivering as she shrugged off her sheets and looked up at them.
"What risks?" she inquired weakly.
Alfonse sighed, getting to his feet and walking to the side of her bed, bringing her covers back up.
"I think we should adjourn this meeting for now," he told his friends. "Tomorrow at noon, we'll talk about it again."
Sharena wanted to tell him this maze idea was the perfect occasion to offer Corrin a chance to corner her older brother and have a talk with him if it was possible, but she could tell Alfonse wouldn't be able to focus now. He wanted to be everywhere at once, and she wanted him to worry about only one thing at a time if possible. He was under a lot of pressure as the crown prince, despite the very short age gap between the siblings.
Anna suggested escorting Kiran to his own tent, while the Askran princess stayed back long enough to make sure her brother didn't need her to fetch anything for Fjorm.
The blonde girl was still very wary of every one of them, Alfonse's voice the one thing that didn't make her jump out of her skin with contained fear. He gently pushed Fjorm back against her pillows, careful to only touch her shoulders as he did so.
"No one's any risk right now," he promised. "How are you feeling? Hungry?"
Sharena knew they had cheese, bread and wine at the ready in this tent, and seeing how flushed Fjorm was, she had an inkling it wasn't just her fever acting up.
"Don't be shy of asking, Fjorm," Sharena called from her side of the room, slowly stepping towards the tent's flaps. "We want you to recover quickly."
Fjorm smiled back at her, although weakly, her blush intensifying. Sharena waved at the pair, taking her leave before hearing the small "sorry" the princess uttered.
"Why would you be apologizing?" Alfonse asked her.
"I'm such a burden to you all," Fjorm explained herself.
He shook his head at her, surprised to feel the urge to hold her hands as he wanted to comfort her. He was a protective guy, but he usually preferred to give people space, since he wasn't that fond of having someone invading his personal bubble.
"I decided to help you of my own accord and so did all of my friends."
"You can order them to," Fjorm mustered, pulling the sheets a little more tightly over her.
"I could, but I don't need to. How about focusing on healing right now?" he offered, giving her a glass of water.
His gestures were careful, his hand clasping over hers to help her hold the drink since she was still very weak, Fjorm mentally chiding herself for how much she trembled. She had been trained to be stronger than this, she was a fighter and a mage. But the bruises all over her back and face were still aching, not to mention her extra raw skin.
"Thank you," she managed in between two short gulps.
Alfonse couldn't remember the last time he'd seen someone this tense. He gave her some time to drink a little more, hoping she would settle down, but her shoulders remained held forward and her eyes darted to the spot in the room where her lance was kept. Her circlet was waiting on a bench serving as a night table by the side of her bed.
"Would you mind telling me what happened to you?" Alfonse asked her softly.
Just thinking back on a parcel of what had happened to her most recently, her eyes filled up with tears and she could see his face falling.
"There's no need to…!"
"I'm sorry," she cut him off. "I know the answers to this question are the best I can offer to repay your help."
Alfonse was afraid she'd heard him dismissing the reasons for which he was helping her.
"You don't need to tell me anything!" he assured her, holding her shivering hands with his.
Normally she would have pulled her hands back right away, but she could sense his compassion and blinked away the warm tears as she tried to hold his gaze. His calloused palms comforted her and her voice came up, almost steady as she tried to explain what she'd been through.
"I was supposed to participate in a negotiation that would bring us towards peace, but it turned out Sutr wanted to torture me into revealing everything I knew about Muspell. And a sacred rite that would make him even stronger than he already is."
Alfonse wasn't sure how to process all that. She had been sent out to bring peace to her people only to be beaten up for what might have been weeks. The healers had told him she showed signs of prolonged hunger, which could have been from how long she'd been on the run, but he couldn't fathom how long someone this severely wounded could even manage to run. Which brought more questions to his mind, but there was no way he'd press her more than this.
"I escaped after being burned, I couldn't…" the break in her voice was pure pain, her shoulders jumping as her following gasp turned into a sob.
She remembered the leather gloves hitting her, the chains on her ankles and the way the guards toyed around with her. Sutr's visits and how they always ended. Just the sound of his footsteps had been enough for her to turn into a quivering mess, even though she desperately wanted to keep a strong front.
Her sobs were half-hacked as she tried to hold them back, her hands pulling away from his so she could cover her face and her shame.
"Fjorm…"
She'd asked that he didn't insist on her princess title, but the familiarity felt somewhat strange. And yet, when he shuffled forward just a little and opened his arms a little more, uncertainty and compassion all over his face, the feverish woman couldn't hold still. She hid herself against his chest, a bundle of tangled sheets and shivers.
"I'm sorry…"she whispered.
"No, no, don't be."
"I'm sorry," she repeated, her sobbing breaking through the coughs as her throat couldn't tighten hard enough to hold them back.
"Sorry for what?"
Her breathing was warm through his shirt and he was glad he wasn't wearing his armor right now, otherwise, he would be making her even more uncomfortable, but this was still an awkward embrace, with her nestling herself in his arms while sitting opposite from him.
"I failed my sister. My people. I don't even know… They could capture someone else in my stead. Torture Yglr."
"Your sister?" he tried to guess. "Has she been captured?"
"No, no, thank the gods, but… They need one of us for the rite. By running, I put them all in danger."
Alfonse wasn't sure he wanted to know what that rite was about. But he knew he wanted to help this princess even more than he did when they'd found her in the snow.
"If something's happening, we will do what we can to help," he told her.
"You don't have to…"
"Can you tell me whether Sutr would stop before reaching our borders?"
He already suspected her answer and the hard shaking of her head as she sniffled was an absolute no. Which meant they would have a second war on their hands before long.
"I'm sorry," she repeated.
Alfonse didn't want to give her empty words, so he held her closer, even if the touch of his hands on her back made her gasp and tremble in his embrace, her fingers gripping his shirt so he wouldn't pull away. It took a couple of minutes for her to calm down, her apologies coming back, the prince tempted to shush her with his fingers on her lips, mentally slapping himself for even entertaining such a thought. He already held her in his lap in a way that was improper.
But the only thing that felt wrong in this situation were her tears. When she started sniffing pitifully, trying to get back to a semblance of composure, seeing her light blush, he turned out his pockets, finding a handkerchief to offer, the princess taking it, her blush intensifying. They were still sitting close, far too close if someone was to barge into the tent, but neither of them moved away, Alfonse hoping her trembling would fully subside if he gave her just a little more reassurance. Once she felt she was properly calmed, she looked at him, only realizing then how close they were. Their foreheads were almost touching. And she noticed something with a gasp that startled him.
That sound was cuter than Shareena's squeals of delight when she petted Feh.
"What is it?" Alfonse asked her, realizing she was staring at a spot just above his eyes.
Fjorm reached up gingerly, her fingers running over one of his blue to golden lock.
"It's the exact reverse of mine," she noted.
His eyes widened as he took in the pale blue tips of her blond hair. There was something iridescent about her hair and now he wanted to touch it too, although it couldn't be right.
"May I?" he found himself asking .
She nodded, her hand dropping from his own hair, her thumb brushing against his cheek in an accidental caress. Her hands were callused from handling a spear but that thumb felt very soft. Her lips had parted slightly and her voice was rough on her second gasp, her eyes blinking from the feel of his palm cupping the back of her head. He noticed transparent spots on her gown, where the perspiration from the fever had been too much and he tried to focus on her hair instead. Her strands were even softer then her finger pad and that only led his mind to wonder how soft the rest of her could be.
He followed one of the longer locks, just to see the pattern of fading color bursting into a blue that reminded him of the sky.
The reverse of him, all paler, softer and yet strong enough to withstand torture worse than anything he'd experienced.
How he hoped he could prevent her from facing such pain in the future. Her eyes blinked at him, the princess asking if something was wrong. Her voice rumbled, warm from the fever and he felt very conscious of the fact they were sitting on a bed.
He could picture her head closer to his. Her voice a whisper as musk would fill the air, the sweat on his back beneath her cool fingers. Hair could mix and her blue on his would mean... He blinked at the sharpness of the desire fueling those thoughts, his hand trembling as he let go of her hair, finding her smiling innocently at him.
She was beautiful, despite the fading bruises and the pale, formless nightgown. He needed to veer his thoughts back to reason, but didn't trust his voice.
"It's far lovelier than mine" he commented, his throat feeling a tad too tight.
"Now you're just trying to make me blush."
Which had him flushing because the impure thoughts were still there and she was still half sitting on his lap...
Picture what father would say if he...
He felt sheepish, since that worked, but pushed any foreign or familiar thoughts away to focus on the young woman whose hands were laying between his. When had that happened? How could she feel so at ease around him?
"But you're smiling again."
The smile didn't waver as she gave the smallest nod.
"Thank you for giving me normal. I needed that."
Now he wanted to kiss her forehead, but he was afraid what he'd want next. He settled for giving her hands a squeeze.
Parting would have been awkward if she had been more awake, but her eyes fluttered closed and he laid her back to sleep, mentally chiding himself for wondering about too many different things. Like how her weight in his arms could feel if she was to...
No, no, no, he wasn't going to take that any further.
Where had these thoughts been hiding?
His sister gave him a toothy grin when he stepped out of the tent.
"That took an awfully long time. She's making longer and longer conversations."
Shareena threw her arm around his neck in such a playful manner, he wondered if they weren't back home and not in a war camp.
"I hope I can become friends with her too!"
He smiled, knowing how genuine his sister was.
"She'll need a lot of friends," he whispered.
Now his thoughts were purely protective.
"Brother, you have a very strange look on your face. Could it be you're that fond of her already?"
Oh no.
"Don't be ridiculous, Shareena. I only want to see her better after all she went through."
And he had yet to actually know the lady.
Luckily, food was being grilled and Kiran and Anna had thrown a contest for dishes, to have people forgetting how limited their supplies were. Which meant it was time to step back into his role as leader of this little army. A part of him almost wished he'd stayed in that tent. Protecting one person had to be easier than keeping so many safe.
...
On the following morning, Shareena guided Corrin and Azura to their partners for a surveillance mission.
"Raven is a bit rough around the edges, but that's mostly because he prefers being on his own. And I know you'll love Lyn, everyone does."
Lilith nodded, sitting on Corrin's shoulder to follow them as far as she could go. She knew both women were still getting used to this new world and wanted them to be at ease.
A green haired woman with a slitted blue tunic was waiting for them, her eyes sharp but her smile warm.
"Hey, new recruits! Corrin and Azura, was it? I'm sorry I wasn't there to welcome you aboard. Veronica's troops wouldn't let us off."
Raven groaned something that sounded like "way to be reassuring..."
"Oi, are you done being grumpy? I swear, I only stick with him on missions because he knows Eliwood and Hector from actual memories and not legends." Lyn snarked.
"I'm sorry," Corrin started, "who?"
Lyn cocked her head to the side sheepishly.
"Sorry, those are my best friends from our original world. I'm still hoping I can get to see them again."
It was quite the reminder for Corrin that despite having nothing to do with this world, at least she and Azura had each other. Some other summoned heroes weren't quite as lucky.
"I have to hand it to you Lyn, you're really good at cooking over a fire!" Corrin cheered, taking another bite of the stew. One of Raven's traps had caught a rabbit, and Lyn was quick to skin, gut, and dissect it into stew-sized bits before adding the dried vegetables and salt they packed with them once the water had grown to a boil. It was a very welcome addition to the dried pork they had packed with them for the journey, the stew warming the group in the evening chill.
"Thanks. Did plenty of campfire cooking growing up when we were on longer trips." Lyn explained, filling her mouth. Raven and Azura added their agreement between bites. Corrin's brows shot up, her head turning too suddenly as she looked towards the sound of a snapping twig.
"Corrin?" Azura asked, voice laced with concern as she got up, reaching for her weapon scanning the darkness for the source of her friend's tension. But Corrin had grabbed Blazing Yato, on her feet and eyes fixated on the forest. Lyn had gotten up as well, bow held with a notched arrow, ready to draw back. Raven was getting to his feet, trying to quickly chew and swallow.
"Damnit Damien!" An unfamiliar voice barked. "Can you ever walk quietly? Shit!" A man walked around a tree, "Well the jig is up. But I think we'll do okay. How about you lovely ladies all hand over your weapons and we won't kill you?" He clucked his tongue at them. Three more men emerged,
"You're the asshole what gave us away." The tallest of the group snapped back in a deep tone, his words difficult to understand through a thick foreign accent.
"Oh fuck it all, just kill 'em so we can some fukin' sleep!"
"Smells like they got food!"
"You're not killing anybody!" Corrin declared, shifting her stance and her companions did the same. A loud twang echoed through the trees, followed by a sharp curse while one of the bandits twisted his body, slapping an arm over the side of his neck. Blood was already seeping through his fingers and beneath his palm, and he tightened his grip on his sword. The other three had all turned to him, trying to ready their own weapons.
Corrin was the first to move, taking advantage of the unprepared stance of the newcomers. The man clutching his neck cursed, trying to bring his arm up to have his sword deflect Corrin's stroke. She shifted the weight on her leg, grunting as she brought her sword up again, the off-balance man dropping his sword from the way Blazing Yato impacted the metal. She could hear cursing and clashing around her, and grit her teeth together praying she wouldn't hear Azura sing, no matter how beautiful the song. Another shift in weight, another motion of her arms, and she felt metal tear through skin and muscle, the impact of her weapon against stone. She withdrew Yato, and with her opponent crumpling to the ground, blood spurting from a lethal wound in his side, she shifted her attention.
Lyn had dropped her bow, a short dagger in her hand as she shuffled in an awkward dance against the tall man named Damien. Raven was beside her, axe in hand. But it was Azura who caught her attention. She was recovering from her flourish, but her opponent had recovered his stance faster than her. His sword was raised, the tension in his neck and shoulder, the shift in the weight on his legs, the turn in his hips, all betraying the motion about to come.
"Azura!" Corrin screamed, dashing between the two. She tried to lift her arm, wrist twisting to get Yato between the bandit's sword and herself, but she wasn't fast enough. Her arm was forced town, a sharp pain in her shoulder as her arm was forced downward when the bandit's sword impacted between the plates of her armor and dragged her arm with the downswing. Pain bloomed in her arm and shoulder, rolling through the entire limb and her fingers went numb. She tried to command her hand to clench, retain her grip on her weapon, but the numbness caused her grip to falter. She sidestepped, and danced back to try and regain her balance.
The bandit drew his sword up to try and strike another blow while she was off staggered and she cursed as she struggled to lift her arm. She managed to get the sword up, but wasn't braced for the impact and the bandit threw aside her stroke with ease.
"I'm 'a fuck you good, just m' type." He growled, licking his lips. "Put down that sword and I might ev'n be gentle 'nuff for ya to 'njoy y'rself!" he laughed, his left foot stepping back while his right shoulder rolled with his next clumsy blow. Azura growled from behind Corrin, stepping around her, and her lance moved faster than Corrin could track. She shifted her sword to her left hand, bringing it up. The bandit was startled by Azura's bellow, already committed to the motion. He tried to turn his shoulders but the lance impaled his chest, his curse caught in his throat replaced with a gurgled gag.
Azura grunted as she drew her lance from the bandit's chest. She stepped back and eyed him as he curled on his side, hand clamped over the new wound while he gagged and sputtered. She scowled, Thrusting the lance through his chest, giving a twist effectively silencing him as he turned limp. She looked at Corrin, a frown pulling her lips.
"Corrin, are you okay?" she asked. Her friend was doubled over, a hand clamped over her shoulder. She could make out blood on the white armor, and the pain etched on Corrin's features.
"Yeah," she grunted, righting herself and forced a smile on her face. "You okay?"
"Yes…" Azura answered, voice trailing off.
Corrin turned her attention to see Raven burying his axe in the back of the man who had cursed out the one named Damien. A second blow rent his head from his shoulders, silencing the pained screams he was letting loose echoing off the forest trees.
"We'll have to find a new place to set camp." Lyn said, grimacing at the three corpses, and the one whining man on the ground. "You'll never run again, but I don't think that leg will kill you." Lyn continued, cocking her head. "So get up and get far away from here." She answered. "Told you I could handle myself." She added, making sharp eye contact with Raven. Corrin and Azura exchanged glances, wondering what exchange they missed while occupied with their own portion of the combat.
"You should let me look at that arm." Azura suggested, stabbing her weapon into the dirt to keep it upright to step closer to Corrin. She reached out, gently grabbing her by the hand and turning the offended limb. The woman winced, taking a sharp intake of breath through her teeth. Azura quickly let go of her arm, pulling her hands back, "I'm sorry, I just wanted to assess the wound."
"Wait until we find a new place to camp." Corrin countered, frowning. "And I'm okay. Are you okay?"
"Can you use your arm?" Azura ignored the question.
"Yeah. I don't think it's that deep." Corrin answered, "the armor did its job."
"Did the sword break it?" she asked, cocking her head to try and get a good look at it. Corrin shook her head, rolling her shoulder.
"Loose plate." She suggested, looking at the weave of her armor's sleeve. "I'll have to have the blacksmith fix it once we get back."
"We'll have to find a new place to set camp." Lyn remarked, grimacing at the three corpses, and the one whining man on the ground. "You'll never run again, but I don't think that leg will kill you." Lyn continued, cocking her head. "So get up and get far away from here." She answered. "Told you I could handle myself." She added, making sharp eye contact with Raven. Corrin and Azura exchanged glances, wondering what exchange they missed while occupied with their own portion of the combat.
Corrin walked over to the tent she was sharing with Azura, pulling up the first spike. The other woman was quick to join her, packing up.
"Were the horses scared off?" Raven called up, "I'll kick you again if you don't stop that whimpering, get your ass up, and far away from here." He growled at the man still whining on the ground. "Or should I make you look more like your friends here?"
"Maybe he is feeling left out," Lyn concurred, setting down her supplies, walking up to the bandit, pushing her boot against his shoulder. "Should I fix that?" she asked.
"Please! I'll go!" he begged. She lifted her boot, the man sitting up and used a nearby tree to right himself. Raven suggested leaving him alive was ill advised, concerned about a second wave of bandits following suit. Lyn shrugged, looking around the trees for any sign of their horses. She brought her thumb and forefinger beneath her tongue, a shrill whistle carrying through the trees. After the second whistle a slight whinny answered, her horse reappearing.
"Not all of us can summon animals on a whim. Any sign of the other horses?" Raven asked, grunting as he finished tying off his sleep pack.
"Just a good horse trainer." Lyn countered quickly, letting out a sharp huff of air through her nose. "I don't see the others." She grimaced, though the thick foliage then pointed, "They ran that way."
"I'll go get them." Raven offered. He rejected Lyn's offer to go with him, "I can manage fetching some horses."
"There's three of them, might be handy to have a second person." Lyn tried to push.
"He makes a good point. We can hold the fort for a bit while you go. We can finish packing up." Corrin offered, nodding her head at Raven. Lyn wrinkled her nose, then let out a long sigh and shrugged.
"Just watch my horse." She asked. The pair left through the thick brush running north-west of the trail they had been following. Between the noise, and the pungent smell of blood and spilled bowls Corrin looked around fearful of attracting animals. The quiet chirp of crickets was replaced with a loud buzzing of flies swarming the fresh corpses, the agitated screech of birds settling back into the quiet.
"Corrin…" The young woman flinched, turning to meet Azura's stern gaze. "Please let me look at that arm." She asked, holding out an expectant hand. Corrin sighed, extending her arm,
"We should be packing the rest of camp. Who knows what'll be attracted to all this…" she curled her nose, stomach starting to unsettle as the air grew thick with the stench.
"It'll be but a moment." Azura countered, brows furrowed together. She found a knot in her chest as she used her sleeve to brush away the blood on Corrin's armor, hoping for a glance of the wound through the aforementioned gap in the plates. The armor was long worn. The plates loose, dented, and scratched throughout. The scars of the war she had won. The heaviness found its way up into her throat, squinting for a moment.
"Does it hurt?" she asked, trying to force back the pain of her own lost war, the images of the fallen Corrin, just one casualty among many.
"A little but I'm fine."
"We should take the arm off of the armor so I can get a better look and dress the wound." Azura offered, reaching up to Corrin's shoulder, the latter stepping back.
"When we make camp again, I promise I'll bandage it up. But I don't want us staying here any longer than necessary." She countered quickly. She took a step back, Azura's arms falling by her sides. Corrin busied herself setting Lyn's pack upon her horse and paced around the animal to assess it for wounds. "Seems okay." She announced to fill the gap in conversation with Azura. She tried to listen for the sounds their companions' return, coughing into her fist. "Are… you? You haven't answered yet."
"I'm okay," Azura assured. "You shouldn't have injured yourself for me." She blurted, back teeth biting down on her tongue, eyes flickering from the ground to Corrin.
"I couldn't let you get hurt." She countered quickly, brows knit together. A palm tapped against her thigh. "You don't have armor." She added, and felt her cheeks heat up.
"I can defend myself." Azura tried to insist, but couldn't muster the anger behind her tone when she saw that pitiable expression. Brows knit and lifted with worry, her wide eyes wiping years from her face, and the childish way she was almost pouting had Azura step closer to her. "You can't be so reckless." She chided. "And you allowed your armor to fall into disrepair for it to have a loose plate like that. What if the man had been wielding a heavier weapon? You may have broken your arm!" her tone rose, finding the anger she previously lacked.
"I didn't think." Corrin tried to defend, "I saw him about to… I couldn't let him hurt you."
"I'm far faster with my weapon than you think." Azura wondered if this dead version of her, don't think of it. Push that thought from your mind, was not a warrior as well as a dancer.
"I know you are." The other girl's tone had dropped and a hand came up to rub at the pain in her healing ribs, reminded of a time she had asked Azura for a sparring match to burn off some agitation two days into a four-day march to their next battle. The dancer had proved her agility applied to more than just dancing, and she carried more strength than just her voice. She could have sworn she had broken a rib that day. Though hell came upon them before she admitted to her friend how much the blow had hurt. That'll teach you not to wear your armor when sparring with real weapons. She remembered Ryoma scolding her.
Tears burned her eyes, too many memories filling her mind. The way Azura had insisted on preparing dinner for her after their sparring match. Ryoma's scolding, and oh what she would do just to see her brother again, even if it was just to be sitting there trying not to roll her eyes as he lectured her. Of what Elise would think of her now, in another world so far away, again entangled in war when she had wanted nothing but peace and happiness for her elder sister. There must be a way to get back. She thought, and looked up to meet Azura's gaze, and her thoughts staggered. But Azura is here.