Due to Corrin's bad health, the army has returned to the astral plane for a short while before they begin crossing the sea into Hoshido. Corrin tells Xander that it isn't necessary to wait for her to recuperate, that she can make the trip fine, but he firmly denies her.
"If we had the choice, little princess, we would let you rest in the astral plane during the journey. But it's your presence that Lilith uses to determine where the entry and exit points from one realm to another appear, and if you enter in Nestra, we won't be able to get back to you at all from the ship or on the Hoshidan side of the border."
She sighs. "That's a weakness we never really considered," she admits weakly. She's been confined to bed for a few days now, and she's still feeling feverish. Laslow found her when she collapsed in Cyrkensia and she's been told that he was by her side the whole time she was being treated. She's thankful for his care; the medics say she would have died if he hadn't found her, though they're not entirely sure what's wrong with her. They suspect it's fatigue, but having been outside for several hours during the night in wet clothing likely did her no favors.
"No plan is foolproof," Xander says kindly, stroking her hair as he sits on the edge of her bed. "The fortress has been far more useful than I could have imagined, and it's all thanks to your planning and foresight. That Lilith is only able to attune her powers to you specifically is a minor inconvenience, something we can compensate for."
"I suppose you're right. Still, I apologize for causing this delay. It's my own fault. I... I haven't been taking care of myself," she murmurs, ashamed at her negligence.
"That you can admit that shows you've grown," he says sternly. "Your body belongs to this army while we are at war, sister. You have a responsibility to your men, as their commander, to treat it with respect." His expression grows softer. "Still, as your brother, I'm worried about you. We all are. Don't hesitate to speak your mind with us; I know this war is hard for you, harder than it is for anyone except perhaps Azura. But I want you to know, both of you to know, that you are not alone. Your family will always be here to support you, little princess."
A terrible knot of guilt forms in her stomach.
If he knew the truth, he would never say something so kind. I am a traitor, to both Nohr and Hoshido.
And half of my anxiety, half of my carelessness, has nothing to do with the war. Azura and I mean to tear this family apart, but how can I say that I'm already falling to pieces, and because of my own sister?
That's something she can never, ever, admit. To anyone.
"Lady Corrin, a gentleman for you," Flora announced, opening the door to see if her mistress was awake.
She looked up from the book she had been skimming through. "A gentleman?"
"As always," Laslow said cheerfully, peeking in from behind Flora.
"How dare you!" the maid cried, pushing him out firmly. "Lady Corrin has not given you permission to enter her room, you... you fop!"
"Ow! Sorry! Quit pushing, that hurts!"
Corrin couldn't help laughing. Flora was still unfamiliar with most of the army, and she'd only heard Laslow's name in passing.
"Flora, it's fine," she called. "He's a friend."
"A friend?! This rude, presumptuous... thing?!" she asked incredulously, holding the door open.
"Hey, you were calling me a gentleman just a moment ago!" he said, hurt.
"My first impression was woefully inadequate," Flora sniffed.
"Flora, don't be so quick to judge," Corrin said, closing her book and motioning for Laslow to enter. "Laslow saved my life. He's the one who found me."
The maid's expression went from surprise to shame in seconds.
"Oh, I didn't realize-! Please, forgive my rudeness, sir," she bowed, flustered.
"Please," he said. "There's no need for a beauty like yourself to apologize so desperately. But perhaps there's another way to repay the-"
"Laslow, speak another word to my retainer and I'll kick you out myself," Corrin said coldly.
"Ahem, yes, sorry," he said quickly.
"Flora, you can leave us," she said, and Flora bowed, though not without giving Laslow another distrustful glance.
Once the door was closed behind her, he held up a small bunch of wildflowers for Corrin.
"Consider them a get-well gift," he said before she could scold him again. "No ulterior motives, I promise."
"In that case, thank you," she said, accepting them gratefully. It seemed like an eternity since she'd stepped foot outside the castle, and the smell of the flowers pressed against her nose helped her relax slightly.
"How are you feeling, milady?" he asked, pulling up a chair.
"About the same. The fever comes and goes, though it hasn't been nearly as bad as the first one."
"I see... And I suppose they haven't figured out what it is?"
"No. But the medics say I'll be fine as long as I rest a while longer," she sighed, fidgeting with the sheets in her lap.
"You look restless; about ready to escape, huh?" he grinned.
"How did you-?"
"You've always been agitated when you're confined indoors. You were like that in the Northern Fortress as well."
"I'm surprised you remember something so banal."
"I only saw you a few times, milady, but I have a good memory," he shrugged. "I thought I'd come to keep you company. I know I should have come to visit earlier, but the building effort is nearly complete and I'd already promised to help the workers."
"You don't have to go out of your way for me," she said, touched by his thoughtfulness. "You're the reason I'm still here, after all."
"Lady Corrin, you were the one who said you wanted to be friends; perhaps things are different in this country, but where I come from, friends don't keep a tally of favors," he said sternly. "And they most certainly make time to visit each other when they're ill."
"Ha, you're right. I'm sorry."
"That's more like it. You're much brighter when you smile, princess."
"Laslow... you said you wouldn't flirt," she frowned.
"That wasn't flirting, you silly girl," he said, flicking her between the eyebrows.
"Ow!" She meant to yell at him for his shocking arrogance, but something about his face stopped the words on her tongue. His expression was serious and hard to read; Corrin was suddenly reminded that despite his easygoing personality, he was quite a bit older than her.
"Don't you understand how worried we've all been? You've been so lifeless lately, you looked like you were dead on your feet. Honestly, have some more self-awareness, princess! Seeing you smile like this is an incredible relief!"
She was momentarily taken aback; she felt like a child again, being scolded for her thoughtlessness.
"Y-You're right," she said meekly. "I'm sorry." His face softened.
"Good." A moment later he seemed to realize what he'd done and his face paled. "Oh gods, please forgive me for my rudeness, milady!" he cried, bowing his head low. The change was so sudden that Corrin burst into laughter.
"Haha! No, it's fine," she chuckled, wiping at her cheek. "Thank you for worrying about me, Laslow. You're a good man, and a good friend. I'm sorry for ever thinking otherwise."
He looked up at her sheepishly. "Well, er, thank you, milady, but I'm really not worth all that praise. I only make an effort not to annoy you because I know you dislike my usual self."
"Well, even if that's true," she said, "I'm still thankful for what you've done for me."
His cheeks seemed to grow pink at her words, and even Corrin had to admit that he really was rather handsome, once you got to know him.
Kaze was suffering from withdrawal symptoms.
Mozu was keeping her promise, and she'd taken it upon herself to stand guard outside Lady Azura's room every night to prevent her from slipping out or from having Kaze find his way in. She must have had amazing hearing as well, because she managed to catch Azura trying to climb out of her window twice already, and Kaze did not dare slip in for fear of being heard in the act. He was sure that Mozu would tear him limb from limb with her bare hands if he was found; months of fighting alongside her had taught him that though she was no trained soldier, she had a certain ferocity and determination that put many of their new recruits to shame. He had no doubt that she would become a great fighter in her own right, with time.
"For shame, Lady Azura!" she'd lectured after catching the princess trying to escape through the window a third time. "Are ya really so desperate that you would put yourself and Kaze in danger for one night of folly?!" She'd rounded on Kaze almost immediately. "And you! If ya put your foot down properly, she wouldn't still be tryin' to climb into your bed!"
"Mozu, please, don't be angry at him," Azura had begged, taking Mozu's hands.
"I'll be as angry as I damn well please," Mozu huffed. "This ain't a game, milady. You're playin' with your life on the line, and his as well. Ya can't afford to be this careless! You're a princess, not an animal in heat!"
Azura and Kaze both burned with shame, and Mozu sighed tiredly.
"Look, I don't oppose ya bein' together," she said, her tone much gentler. "I don't reckon most anyone in the army does. Everyone knows you're sweethearts, and no one has anything bad to say 'bout it. But this is beyond the two of ya. If ya insist on bein' together, you gotta find a better way to do it. Ya need protection from Lord Xander and the others, and the only way you're gonna get it is if ya petition for the right to get married. If you're not prepared to go that far, you have no business sharin' a bed."
After that lecture, Lady Azura stopped trying to come to him. He missed her presence; he'd grown used to falling asleep with her head on his shoulder and her arm around his torso. He'd become accustomed to the sweet smell of her hair on his sheets, to the warmth of her soft skin pressed against him, to the small noise she made in her sleep when she turned slightly. He missed kissing her goodnight, and he missed the moment when he woke her so she could slip back into her room before dawn broke. Without her, his nights seemed empty and far too long.
He was glad he could at least see her during the day, though it didn't satisfy his need for the intimacy he'd grown used to. He considered going to Prince Xander directly to appeal his suit, but he dreaded the possibility that he would be rejected and forced to break off his relationship with the princess entirely. He didn't dare risk it; he couldn't bear the thought of losing her.
Azura had meant to speak with Corrin as soon as they set off for Hoshido, but when the date for their departure was delayed to give her sister time to recuperate from her illness, she knew she had to talk to her sooner than later. As much as she hated to disturb Corrin while she was ill, Azura was running out of time.
She found Corrin propped up in her bed as usual, her face still rather pale and drawn, though there was far more color in her cheeks now.
"Azura," she said, smiling slightly as Felicia announced her visitor. "Thank you for visiting," she said, gesturing for her sister to sit down. She did as she asked, sitting on the chair Felicia pulled up for her.
"Of course," she said, worried. "Are you feeling better?"
"So so," Corrin said, stifling a small cough. "I'm not feverish anymore, thank the gods."
"That's wonderful." She reached to take one of Corrin's hands. They were very warm, and a wave of concern went through her. She still looks so weak... Her face is all red... Should I really bring this up now...?
But Corrin seemed to notice that there was something on Azura's mind.
"Felicia, do you mind giving us some privacy?" she asked suddenly, and the maid, who had been bustling to serve Azura a cup of tea, started at the sound of her name.
"Huh? Oh, yes, of course!" she stuttered, bowing quickly and hurrying from the room, closing the door behind her. Corrin waited a moment before turning to Azura.
"Is there something you wanted to talk about, Azura? You look worried."
"How did you know?" she asked, and Corrin coughed again.
"Sorry, give me a moment," she said, her eyebrows knitted in pain. Azura waited for the fit to subside.
"Would you like some water?" she asked, looking around for the water jug. Corrin shook her head.
"Nngh, no, I'm okay," she said hoarsely. "I'm fine." She took a deep breath and relaxed somewhat. "You said you wanted to talk, that day by the lake," she finally said. "And you look like you have something you need to get off your chest. You said it was important."
"...It is. But I don't want to stress you when you're already so ill..."
"Don't worry about me; if it's really that important, we should talk about it as soon as possible."
"You're right," Azura said softly, but she found that she was too nervous to keep eye contact.
"Azura, what is it?" Corrin asked, her voice full of concern. She squeezed Azura's fingers gently, and Azura felt a pit of shame open up in her belly at the thought of taking advantage of her sister's kindness.
"I know it's selfish of me, but I need your help," she said, her heart thumping loudly in her ears. The words seemed to stick to her tongue, making it difficult to enunciate. "You see, I... I'm pregnant."
She wasn't sure that she'd heard correctly. Her thoughts were still sluggish from the illness and the medicine she'd been taking, and it didn't help that Azura was holding her hand. It took her a moment to fully process what she'd heard, and even then she couldn't make the words take any cohesive form in her muddled mind.
"What?" she asked blankly. Azura flushed, her face turning a deep shade of red, and slowly the truth dawned on Corrin. She raised her hand to her mouth in horror. "Azura... you didn't!"
She didn't reply, merely nodded slightly, her eyes cast down in embarrassment.
Corrin's vision started to flicker. She'd forgotten to breathe. She gasped reflexively, but the tears that gathered at the corner of her eyes weren't all due to the pain in her lungs. A terrible fear rose within her, and she thought she might be sick.
They'll kill her, they'll kill her! This is beyond me and Xander, if Hans or any of father's men get wind of this, Azura will be executed!
"Are you sure?!" she asked desperately, taking Azura's shoulders and shaking her slightly. "You're absolutely sure?!"
"Y-yes, I haven't bled for two months," she said, so quietly that Corrin could barely hear.
"Two... months..." she repeated, and she vaguely recalled thinking how radiant Azura had been looking, ever since she'd begun her relationship with Kaze in the late summer.
Kaze...!
"The father," she said suddenly, "Who is it?!"
A soft, warm expression came over Azura's face, and Corrin found she didn't want to hear the answer.
"Kaze." It was as if Corrin had been slapped. A terrible fury came over her.
Kill him, her blood snarled, and she found she was clutching at her sheets with inhuman force, her nails sharpening by the second.
"Corrin! No!" Azura cried as she realized the transformation taking place before her. She threw her arms around Corrin's shoulders, holding her tightly, and a fierce battle began between Corrin's clashing instincts and the small voice of reason left in her. "It was my choice, I'm the one who wanted this!" she said, but Azura had no way to know how much damage her words inflicted on Corrin's heart.
Please no, it's a lie... it's a lie! It can't be true!
"Kaze was against it, I was the one who insisted," Azura pleaded, her voice trembling in Corrin's ear. "I know it was foolish, and I know I'm only paying the consequences now. Please, sister, you're the only one who can help me! If you have any love for me at all, please help us! Xander always listens to you, if you're the one who asks to let us marry, now, before it's too late...!"
Don't! Don't ask this of me! Do you have any idea how much you're tearing me apart?! Please, I beg you, no more!
"A-Azura... I'm sorry. I... I need some time... by myself," she managed to say, her voice raspy and weak. Azura pulled away, and Corrin tried not to notice how hurt her expression was.
"O-of course..." she said, and as she stood up, Corrin was sure she saw a tear slip down Azura's cheek. "I... I'll come visit again later... I'm so sorry for bringing this up while you're ill..."
She didn't allow Corrin to reply. In one fluid motion she pulled the door open and fled the room. Corrin was left alone, staring down at her hands in her lap.
Why? Why did this have to happen?!
Tear after tear fell into her open palms, and she felt her face contort painfully as she struggled not to break into sobs.
I can't take this, I can't do this anymore! Why did it have to be Azura?! Why did it have to be me?! No more, I don't want to feel like this anymore!
The dragon in her heart issued a keening, mournful cry, and before she knew it she was bent double, screaming into her hands.
Azura! Why?! Why couldn't it have been me?!
When Jakob and Felicia came running to see what was wrong, she was delirious with fever again, her eyes glazed over and feral, her cries somewhere between the wailing of a woman and the low, wounded roar of a dragon.
Azura's heart felt heavy as she hurried from Corrin's room, her face wet with the tears she couldn't keep back.
I know it must have been a shock, and I know I'm asking a lot of her, but I thought... I hoped...!
Corrin was the only person in the world Azura had trusted with this secret. She hadn't even told Kaze yet, though she couldn't accurately explain why she had kept it from him. Corrin just seemed like the right person to put her trust in, and having her reject that trust hurt more than she could bear.
There was an empty storeroom down the hall, and Azura made for it, not wanting to be seen by anyone. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, staring at the floor.
And gods, her face... she looked so ill! I did that to her...! I knew she was sick and I stressed her anyway, and now I'm upset that she wasn't able to accept it... when did I become such a terrible, selfish person?!
She slid down, her back against the door, until she fell to the ground and buried her face in her arms.
I'm so sorry, Corrin... this is all my fault, and I'm blaming you... just like I've always blamed you.
She had once believed that her resentment toward Corrin would fade with time. She'd thought that having Kaze to comfort her, that having his warm kindness would be enough to make her forget how bitter she felt about their intertwined fates. But she had been wrong.
Why...? I just want to make this ugly, horrible feeling disappear...! That's all I want...! I don't want to keep hurting her, I don't want to hate her!
Corrin was bright; she was kind, and warm, and everyone was drawn to her. In comparison, Azura was nothing but a shadow, and she longed to be a part of Corrin's light.
I'm so sorry... I have been so, so selfish, and I still expect you to save me from my own mistakes, as if I think you owe it to me. I have distanced myself from you, only to come begging for help when it suits me... I am a poor excuse for a friend, and an even worse excuse for a sister. Surely, I'll be just as poor of a mother.
She sobbed quietly into her knees, feeling dirty and disgusted at herself.
No one was allowed to see her for two days.
The mood in the fortress was subdued and the entire royal family seemed to be dreading the worst. Laslow was determined not to fall prey to that negativity; he assured everyone that Princess Corrin would pull through, though when she finally made a recovery, no one was more relieved than him.
"Poor girl," Selena commented over dinner. "I thought so before, but I don't think she has an illness of the body," she sighed.
"What do you mean?" Laslow asked.
"Well, do you remember Nah?" she asked, lowering her voice. "You know how she was really down to earth and serious, but there were times when she went absolutely berserk?"
"Well, yeah. She was a manakete, after all," Odin frowned. "It would have been strange if she didn't have times when she needed to let her instincts take over."
"Right. Well, Lady Corrin isn't a manakete, but she's still a dragon. And you've heard what Prince Xander and the other's say, that she's an ancient dragon. I'm not sure what that means, but if it's any indication of her power on the battlefield, I suppose her dragon instincts are much stronger than Nah's were."
"You think holding them back is what's making her ill?" Laslow asked.
"Maybe, or maybe her emotions are too much, too primal for her body. She has so much more to worry about than the rest of us, and when you factor in her feelings about Hoshido... Perhaps this is a dragon's equivalent of a mental breakdown."
"If that's true, there's really nothing we can do for her," Odin sighed. "She'll have to get better through her own strength."
Laslow stared at the table in silent contemplation. There was something Nah had once told him, something about manaketes that he was having trouble recalling. He closed his eyes, trying to force himself to remember.
"Say, Inigo, do you know why manaketes are so strong?"
Just like that, the memory comes rushing back to him. He remembers sitting on the ground, watching her practice her transformation. Halfway through, she pauses and turns to talk to him.
She's very small, positively petite. In human years she's roughly his age, but in manakete years she's nothing more than a toddler, and her physical size reflects that.
He scoffs. "You're seriously asking me that question? Of course you're strong, you can turn into dragons, for Naga's sake."
"Well yeah, there's that, but changing your form doesn't automatically make you stronger," she says, her tone even and prim. "I mean, look at the taguel, they're strong too, but it's not the same strength as a manakete, right?"
"Again, you're a dragon. Yarne is just an overgrown bunny," Inigo says, waving her point away.
"Well, wyverns aren't as strong as the taguel, and they're dragons too," she says, lifting an eyebrow, and Inigo falls silent. She grins in triumph.
"Ugh, just get to the point," he sighs. "We all know you're dying to get to it."
She clicks her tongue at him. "Fine." She sits down on the ground and picks up a stick, drawing a rough circle in the dirt. "For the purposes of this explanation, this is your soul. They say Naga breathed fire into all living things, so we all have a bit of her flame in us."
"I didn't realize this was going to be a sermon," he mutters, and she punches him in the shoulder with no small force.
"Look, this is useful for you too, dammit. If you're not gonna listen, I'll just go turn back into a huge monster and eat up everything in sight."
"Okay okay! I'm listening!"
"Hmph. Well, what's important about souls, or flames anyway, is that they have currents."
"Currents? You mean like a river?"
"Sort of. The currents in a river flow with purpose and direction," she says, drawing out a wave. "No matter what you do, you can't alter the flow of a current in water. They're resolute, unchangeable. But that's not what happens with currents in a flame."
She draws several short lines, intersecting and breaking over the circle.
"Currents of heat are constantly moving and changing. They're alive, and they flicker and burn, existing one moment and gone the next. If there's a bit of Naga's fire in us, then there's currents in our hearts as well."
"Can you please speak a language I can comprehend?" he complains. "What's with the currents?"
"For Naga's sake, they're emotions, you idiot!" she says, clearly annoyed. "Come on, Inigo, try to use your head, yeah? That was a very clear analogy!"
"Clear my foot! How was I supposed to get emotions out of rivers?!"
"Ughhhh, why do I even bother," she mutters to herself. "Look, you dimwit, the currents are the passions and feelings that all living things experience. You know how we say animals have instincts? This is what we're talking about. But humans don't rely purely on emotions to do things. They temper their impulses with reason. Manaketes, however, are a mix of both. We have the true essence of our emotions, untouched by human thought, but at the same time we're also able to think. Because of that, we feel... different, depending on which form we're in. The dragon part of us feels everything way more vividly than normal, and our strength comes from that pure surge of energy."
"So basically, you're saying you're strong because Naga made you feel more," he says sarcastically. "How is this useful to me at all?"
"It's useful," she says, her mouth set in a grim line, "Because if you remember, we're fighting a war against a dragon. And if you understand where an enemy gets their power, you're one step closer to defeating it."
That shuts him up.
"But Grima isn't the same as Naga, so how can this whole thing about Naga's fire be applied to him?" he asks a moment later.
"Naga's fire is only a legend. It's just easier to visualize when you explain it like this," she shrugs. "But it is true that dragons have far more vivid and powerful emotions and instincts than humans, and that we draw strength from that. But the fact that we are more animal-like than humans is also our weakness," she says, her expression becoming sad. "In the past, there were many dragons, and many manaketes. But over time, the beasts in our hearts began to destroy our minds, and many dragons went mad, lost to their primal instincts."
"I've never heard this before," he says, genuinely interested now.
"I speak with Naga quite a bit," Nah says nonchalantly, as if speaking to a god is nothing worth writing home about. "It seems that the longer we live, the more we lose touch with our human sides. If we go back to the flame analogy, I suppose it's the same as when a flame burns itself out. At some point, there's nothing left to burn, and even the largest fire will become nothing but ashes."
A silence falls between them as her words fade away.
"Hey, Nah... why are you telling me this specifically? I mean, why me?"
"I dunno," she shrugged. "You just happened to be there when I started thinking about it." She stood up and dusted off her skirt. "Anyway, next time I go on a rampage, you know why," she waved as she walked away.
Inigo, or Laslow, as he's known now, never gave that conversation much thought before. But now, seeing Princess Corrin in her current state, he can't help but wonder if perhaps the currents in her fire are too strong for her to handle. And if they are, he's at a loss for what to do to help.
Currents through a flame flicker and waver and burn... until nothing is left but ash.
He feels ill at the thought.
Notes:
Corrin has a theme song. "I'm Dying of Thirst" by The Pony. Because. She's literally dying. Of THIRST.
*cough* ANYWAY.
I finally got around to explaining the title, though I may have mentioned it before... Meh, I can't remember and I'm too sleep deprived to check. Enjoy the drama and suffering x2, and thanks for reading!