Chapter 55: Defiant Will
2nd day of the Verdant Rain Moon 1181. Zanado.
Preparations were under way for Byleth to leave via Warp platform. It was an unexpected move, considering the enemy army camped outside of Garreg Mach. Nevertheless, his grandmother had considered it prudent to send him away.
"If it is the enemy's wish to confine you to the Monastery, we must defy it. Leave and join the Emperor in her campaign," she had said.
It was a fair consideration, and he had agreed. The defences of Garreg Mach were formidable, and they would hold for some time. Hopefully, it would be enough time for the Imperial front to be concluded. If that were to be the case, then the besieging army would be caught between two hostile forces. It was a gamble worth taking.
That said, he was not leaving alone either. Beside him was one of his former students
"Are you sure I should come with you, Professor?" asked Lysithea.
"I'm not your Professor anymore," he said in reply, "And yes, I am sure. Edelgard will appreciate your presence."
A conflicted expression overcame the girl. She said, "I admit that I'd like to see her again, but leaving the Monastery while it's under siege doesn't sit right with me."
"It's strategy. They intended to waste my time, so I intend to waste theirs. Either they lift the siege to chase me or they stay committed and unmoving," retorted Byleth.
"Won't that make the Monastery more vulnerable?" asked Lysithea.
Byleth's expression remained unchanged as he answered, "Every decision in war is risky."
"Even if we've been winning so far?" she asked.
"Especially so," he replied.
Overconfidence had often led people to steal defeat from the jaws of victory. Morale was high from the continued progress in the war, but with the threat of the resurrected army of Nemesis, staunchly believing that defeat was impossible was a delusion. The Alliance especially would suffer; he was sure. There was going to be loss.
There was a moment of silence as they walked. There were still burning questions on Lysithea's mind, but she did not know how to voice them. Eventually, however, one came to the forefront of her mind.
"Professor," she began, "Shouldn't we head for the Alliance if we're going to reinforce anyone? They need more help than Edelgard's front, don't they?"
"No. There are only two of us, and I need to return to my corps," answered Byleth.
"I see," said Lysithea with a frown.
Byleth then added, "We will be picking up reinforcements, however."
She asked, "What sort of reinforcements? I was unaware that new forces were being assembled."
"Agarthan defectors from across Fodlan. While most remain prisoners of war, there are many who feel betrayed by their government. The truth of the Dark Shells has angered a lot of them," answered Byleth.
Lysithea bit her lip before asking, "Can they be trusted? They might stab us in the back."
The former Professor inclined his head and said, "There is always a risk, but you'll see for yourself."
"I guess so," she said. Her voice did little to hide her scepticism.
Byleth decided to change the topic. "But enough about that. How have you been?"
"Is this really the right time?" asked Lysithea with a raised eyebrow.
He pointed at the sun and said, "We have plenty of time."
She sighed, but she did not deny that statement. There was still an hour or so left before they were scheduled to leave. She was simply a bit anxious.
"I have been well," she eventually answered, "My health and stamina have improved a lot, as you've seen when we last sparred."
Byleth nodded. "I have. Were there any side effects from the ritual?"
She shook her head. "Not that I can see, at least not negative ones. I think I might be hitting a growth spurt, considering some of the aches I've been feeling lately. Professor Manuela says it's growing pain. It's possible that this is a side effect of the ritual. It's rather late for a girl my age to have that."
That was a fair point. From the works on biology he had read, Byleth knew that girls entered and finished puberty earlier than boys. As such, it was highly unlikely for a girl of 16 years like Lysithea to have a major growth spurt now, though not unheard of. When one considered the effects the blood reconstruction surgery had had on her, it was a distinct possibility that her body was now catching up on what should have been her normal growth.
Then, he wondered if the same was happening to Edelgard. She was older, yes, but if Lysithea's growth spurt was a side effect of the healing ritual, then Edelgard was possibly experiencing it as well. He did not like the thought of growing pains hindering her in battle. However, a small, treacherous part of him wondered how that would affect the young Emperor's looks. She was already attractive in his eyes, but he was curious.
"Professor?" asked Lysithea.
Byleth refocussed on the conversation, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Sorry. I was lost in thought."
The girl's eyebrows rose in disbelief. "I never thought that could happen to you," she said.
"I'm full of surprises," he said drily.
She giggled at him before she caught herself. "Sorry, Professor."
"Why are you apologising?" asked Byleth. "It's as I said; I'm not your Professor anymore."
She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. After a moment, she said, "I just don't know what to call you."
"Byleth will do," he said. "Or you could try Brother," he added teasingly.
She turned sharply to him. "So you're serious about Edelgard?" she asked.
"I'm not absolutely sure yet, and I want to spend more time with her, but I'm inclined to say yes," he answered honestly.
Lysithea hummed. Then she laughed and said, "I'm starting to believe that this might have played a role in Lady Rhea's decision to send you away. Maybe she's a romantic."
Byleth smirked at her, which surprised her. He said, "She might also simply be tired of me telling her to get laid."
The girl's eyes nearly popped out of her head, and Byleth had to suppress a genuine laugh. "Wait, what?!" she shouted.
5th day of the Verdant Wind Moon 1181. Shambhala, hideout of the rebellion.
"Oh, fuck me," she said with a groan as she awoke.
Kronya was not in the best of moods right now. She was in immense pain; throbbing head and fire in her veins included. It was hard to put coherent thoughts together because of it, and she had just enough awareness to realise that she was in a bad state. Part of her was amazed that was awake at all, having half-expected to simply die from using Lady Sothis' divine power with her unprepared body. Still, here she was; alive but very much cranky.
"Careful," said a voice from beside her.
Kronya slowly turned her head to look at the person who had spoken. She spotted a familiar face.
"Nadja?" she asked.
"Don't strain yourself," said the other woman, "You were badly hurt."
"How badly and for how long?" asked Kronya.
Nadja grimaced and answered, "It's been over a week. You had severe internal bleeding along several organs, including your brain. By the time the healers could stop it, you'd lost two litres of blood. We… we thought you'd die, Kronya."
The half-delirious woman took a long moment to mull over that statement. She knew that death would not have been a permanent thing, what with her being a psychopomp, but her Lord and Lady had told her that it would not have been a pleasant experience at all. That, and finding a way out of the Underworld was apparently very tedious, even with authorisation. Not to mention the impact it would have had on her comrades.
"I'm glad I didn't die, then," she eventually said.
Nadja smiled at her. "I'm glad as well. Everyone was really worried about you."
"Who's been handling our group?" asked Kronya at the reminder.
"Nikola. He's complaining about the workload all the time, but he won't even consider letting you get back to it until you've fully recovered," answered Nadja with some admonition in her voice.
Kronya let go of the tension she did not know she had built up. A hard breath left her nose as she settled in the surprisingly soft bedding the rebels had managed to scrounge up for their improvised medical station. It was good to know that she and the rest of her comrades were in good hands.
"if it's that cranky has-been, he'll keep us afloat until I'm back up," she said. "How long do you reckon will it take for me to recover?"
"That's difficult to answer," said a new voice by the entrance of Kronya's small room.
The man who walked in was tall and lanky, and he walked with a limp. He had been among the first to join their movement and had served as chief of medical staff since, even if that job had not seen much work up until the rescue operation. Everyone simply called him Medicus, regardless of his actual name. That said, he was a familiar face.
He continued, "Your body is oddly strained. It's not just your muscles, but also your bones and organs. It made stabilising you very difficult. That strain still remains, though in lessened intensity. At least it didn't hamper the anti-atrophy treatment. All in all, I expect you'll be back on your feet in two or three weeks."
Kronya sighed. "That's good news, at least. Nadja, tell Nikola to pick up the pace on the recruitment. After that massacre, there will be a lot of dissidents. I want them on our side so they don't turn into easily crushed little revolts. Also, have him prepare for offensive operations in three weeks, if possible. We need to hit hard while Thales and his army are away."
Nadja couldn't help but chuckle. She said, "Already giving orders, huh?"
"I can't help it, okay?" shot back Kronya. "Our window of opportunity is small. Our planning won't amount to anything if our allies on the surface get smashed by Nemesis before we can achieve our goals."
"I know the plan. Most of us do," retorted Nadja with a small smile. "Just lie back and let us do the work. We're not going to disappoint Lord Hyperion, if that is your worry."
That was indeed Kronya's worry. Perhaps she was bit too fixated on him, and recently on Lady Sothis as well, but it truly was her greatest concern to live up to the faith they put in her. That was not to say that she did not care for her people. She cared a great deal for them, but it was not her people who had saved her. Nevertheless, it was her mission to liberate the Agarthans, and she would. It was both for her love for her people and for her love for her Lord and Lady.
Her wishes and goals considered, it was still hard work. Everything relied on well-timed attacks against the current power structure of Agarthan society. The current system had to be torn down in with surgical strikes and quick operations before the remaining garrison could call back the army. And after the war, the real work would begin.
Good governments did not emerge from nowhere. A lot of thought would have to be put into devising a government that would lead Agartha into a future of liberty and friendly co-existence with outsiders. That alone had the potential to be the work of a lifetime.
She was drifting off-topic with her thoughts, she thought. She shook her head, only to be met with a blinding headache.
"Ow!" she hissed.
"Kronya, what are you doing?" asked Nadja.
Medicus moved closer and examined her quickly. "Fortunately for you, it's nothing too bad, but your body isn't in much of a state to move now. I suggest you sleep now, though. Bedrest will speed up your recovery."
"That's not a bad idea," admitted Kronya. She smiled. "It was nice talking to you, Nadja."
The other woman nodded. "Likewise. It's good to have you back. Have a good rest."
Nadja and Medicus left promptly, leaving Kronya alone. Relaxing took a bit of time due to her worries, but she managed to let go eventually. As she calmed her thoughts and tried to go back to sleep, she comforted herself with the knowledge that her allies were more than capable at their jobs. She fell asleep with the conviction that they were doing their best.
7th day of the Verdant Rain Moon 1181. Eastern Gloucester territory.
Claude considered the situation that presented itself to him. His current forces were hopelessly outnumbered. Even if he pulled all the Alliance's troops together and added the Almyrans on top of it, he still would have only barely reached a third of the enemy's total numbers. It made facing the enemy head-on impossible as well. A further complication was the upcoming harvesting season, during which enemy troops could not be allowed to trample all over the crops. The braying and barking of the nobles that made up the Alliance served as a further irritant as well. Consequently, Claude was stretched to the limit.
There were upsides, however. The previous armies the Agarthans had sent into Alliance territory had been hunted down and destroyed, so there were no enemies at his back. The recent victory in Faerghus was another boon, as it had freed a significant amount of the forces stationed there. The Alliance would thus receive reinforcements soon. The Empire was also due to mount another attack on the enemy's other flank.
Complicating the matter were the enemy numbers and the recently established siege of Garreg Mach. The former was a real problem, while the latter was largely a time-wasting problem meant to bind forces in place and buy time for Nemesis. The transparency of the move did nothing to lessen its effectiveness however. It meant that additional reinforcement for the Alliance would be delayed significantly.
It was for this reason that Claude had decided to limit combat operations to raids and fighting retreats. As painful as it was to give up the valuable farmland, it would not do to lose the entire army. He also hoped that the frequency and severity of his raids would slow the enemy advance. He also often participated in these raids himself.
This led to the current situation. Between cavalry and flying troops, Claude had assembled a few hundred soldiers for his most recent raid. It was an experienced group he was leading since this day's target was both juicy and risky. It was the kind of mission that fit him best.
"Is everyone ready, Nader?" he asked.
The burly man answered promptly, "My cavalry is raring to go. Let's hope those flimsy lizards of yours can keep up."
Claude laughed in replied, "Don't you worry about my wyverns. Even the pegasi are more than ready for the action. Tell everyone we're heading out in five minutes."
Before long, the raid force had departed the camp in the direction of their target. It was a crucial supply convoy bearing food and weapons, and it was guarded accordingly. That also made it slow and obvious, which served to entice attacks such as the one Claude was committing to now.
It took about two hours for them to reach the current position of the supply convoy. As expected, it was surrounded by a significant guard complement. There must have been several thousand soldiers guarding it, from what Claude could see. They also had scouts quite far ahead of the formation. It would be a tough nut to crack.
"No time like the present," he muttered. "Give the order for the cavalry to attack the outer cordon of the guard formation. I want their horses down. Ignore the scouts."
Trumpets relayed the order, signalling the beginning of the attack. Claude and the other fliers immediately took to the skies while his cavalry crested over the small incline they had hidden behind. Nader's Almyran heavy horse was not all that fast, but neither was the Agarthan cavalry. They were also in guard formation, which meant that the bulk of their force was not ready for the frontal charge yet. The hostiles now had to adapt.
That said, the distance between the two forces was significant. Nader knew that the Agarthans would be more or less braced once he reached them. As such, the Almyran general struck not at the centre but at the still forming left flank. He had no intention of getting bogged down, after all. There was more ground to cover and more targets to strike.
Behind Nader's cavalry flew Claude's wyverns and pegasi. They peppered the Agarthan horses with arrows to cover Nader's advance and prevent an encirclement. The damage they did was limited, as it was more of a strafing run than a genuine follow-up attack. The goal was to keep the cavalry mobile, not to take out the enemy's own.
After they broke through the Agarthan cavalry line, Nader's troops pressed onwards. They fanned out, dividing themselves into small groups as they sped forward. The sporadic spell fire and arrow hail that greeted them thus failed to inflict a significant amount of damage. Only on the last stretch of the charge did they converge again. The casualties they took increased through this, but there was little time for the Agarthans to take advantage of it. Nader's forces were upon them.
The clash was brutal, and many Agarthan archers and mages were trampled in the charge. That situation continued as the Almyran cavalry swept to the right instead of heading for the heart of the convoy. The Agarthan melee troops were left to run after them as they devastated the long-range troops of the guard force.
After a few minutes, trumpets blasted their tunes again. Nader's cavalry immediately broke off from the right flank. They scattered again as they galloped away from the convoy guards. The retaliatory strikes failed to reach them due to Claude's forces, who had disengaged from the Agarthan cavalry to harass the ranged troops. Once the remnants of the enemy cavalry arrived on the scene, Claude ordered his own troops to pull back as well. It was a full retreat.
Twenty minutes later, the combined force of Alliance and Almyra converged again at a significant distance away from the Agarthan convoy. Everyone was exhausted, and it would take some rest before they could enter combat again. It was time to take stock of the situation.
"That went rather well," said Claude. "We got a lot of them."
Nader grunted. "We did. About half their cavalry is down, their archers might as well be gone, and their mages took a severe beating. We lost about 200 soldiers though."
Claude nodded grimly and said, "It was to be expected. At least we succeeded in our objective."
"Are you sure they'll take the bait?" asked Nader.
"They can't afford not to. If they ignore us, we'll whittle down the convoy guards until we can take it over. In addition to that, they wanted to bait us into attacking it. No convoy would be packed with so many resources under any other circumstance. No, they'll reinforce it for sure in hopes of pinning me down and eliminating me. We'll just have to maintain the attacks on the convoy, and their trap will turn into our trap," answered Claude.
"See, that's the tricky part. They'll come and surround us," groused Nader.
Claude smirked. "So long as the others do their part, it'll work out."
10th day of the Verdant Rain Moon 1181. Agarthan army camp in Gloucester territory.
Hell had broken loose. Tents were burning, soldiers were panicking, and nobody knew what was going on. People were dying left and right, and screams threatened to deafen those within the camp. This was clearly an attack from Alliance forces.
Granted, Alliance troop activity was at an all-time high. Raids had been launched on supply convoys, scouting parties and small foraging parties for weeks now. Several days ago, those raids had picked up in frequency, and the bait convoy had come under attack as well. Noticing that things had been going to plan, Odesse had been left behind by that battle-hungry maniac Riegan. The man had stated his intention of putting his descendant down himself. That decisive action was meant to break the Alliance's resistance and scatter its troops.
Except, it seemed that the young Sovereign Duke was cleverer than anyone had wanted to admit. He had clearly sensed the trap and devised one of his own around it. The results were unfavourable to the Agarthans.
This very day, only two days after Riegan had left, the camp had come under attack. Odesse had managed to spot Judith von Daphnel, who was no doubt in command of the attacking force. After that, however, everything had turned into a chaotic mess. The attack had come unexpectedly and with enormous ferocity.
As a result, Odesse was left with the unenviable task of commanding the defence of the camp. This was a tall order, considering the current state of affairs, but it was his duty. Fortunately, his Agarthans were easier to command than the rabid plunderers Riegan led. Unfortunately, without said plunderers, defending the camp would be much harder. It was a mixed bag.
Said mixed bag then rapidly turned into a catastrophe when he spotted further enemy elements. It was light cavalry, by the looks of it. At the small force's helm rode a distinctly dressed figure Odesse identified as Leonie Pinelli, a recent graduate of the Officers Academy and a rising star in the Alliance's armed forces. Her presence here boded ill for him and his troops.
Ordinarily, light cavalry was not much of a problem. Their purpose was to harass and pursue, and they generally fared ill in prolonged combat. The problem in this situation, however, was that they had taken up flanking position on a panicking force. Morale dropped, and soon, a few units were breaking ranks to flee. They were the first to be mopped up by Leonie's troops.
"Form up! Mages at the centre! Everyone else, form a ring outside the camp!" shouted Odesse.
He was under no illusions that this was a fight he could win. Breaking through was also out of the question, seeing as his troops were surrounded. The only remaining option was to make the enemy bleed and then Warp out with as many soldiers as his mages could take with them. He would only be able to save a few hundred, but it was better than total annihilation.
In the chaos of the fight, it was difficult to get his orders relayed to all units, and some never found out. However, Agartha's soldiers were not made of weaklings and undisciplined dogs; at least not his – the less said about Chilon's butchers and Thales' sadists the better. As such, the majority of his troops soon found themselves in a circular formation away from the burning ruins of the camp, just as he had ordered.
"Lord Odesse!" shouted one of his soldiers while pointing to the east.
His gaze followed the soldier's outstretched finger, and he cursed. There were Alliance mages he had failed to spot before. They were not numerous and they were not engaged in the battle, which told him exactly what their purpose was. They were here to cast special anti-distortion wards.
"Prepare our mages for immediate Warp," he ordered. "Tell them to get as many of us out of here as they can."
"Yes, my Lord," said the soldier with a trembling stance. He knew that his chances were not good.
Warp casting began within the minute. The first round saw the most valuable soldiers transported; logistics officers and other vital assets. The second round of Warps sent out a group of mages and some melee fighters to serve as their guards in the future. The third round, which should have transported some of the archers, stopped halfway through. The wards were now in place.
This was it. No one else would be able to get out now. "Remain steadfast and hold your positions," he ordered, "Make them bleed!"
His soldiers answered that proclamation with vigour. Their resistance was fierce, but oddly, the Alliance's forces refused to mount a committed assault against their circular formation. It was mostly an exchange of arrows from the Alliance with spells from the Agarthans that dominated the battlefield for the next ten minutes or so. And so, the fierce will to remain defiant gave way to confusion.
Twenty more minutes of these exchanges followed. Only small skirmishes took place, yet the soldiers on both sides stayed braced. They could not afford not to. Something bigger had to happen at some point.
Eventually, something did happen. The light cavalry of the Alliance suddenly charged in, releasing arrows and javelins to soften up the line before crashing into it. The charge did some damage, but it failed to break through. Leonie was forced to pull them back. The attack had failed, yet its goal had been accomplished.
Odesse realised as much when he noted with resignation that his soldiers broke rank to give pursuit.
They wanted my troops to be on edge, eager for action and ready to abandon their positions. Shit! he cursed in his head
"Get back in formation!" he yelled. "Remain in your defensive positions!"
His orders were relayed, but it was already too late. His soldiers had taken up pursuit of the retreating Alliance cavalry, unheeding of the infantry on the other side of the cavalry. The riders parted, and heavy infantry bearing Daphnel heraldry clashed with his Agarthans; something they were not prepared against.
In the face of this development, the cohesion of the Agarthan ring formation suffered greatly. It soon began shifting as soldiers scrambled to plug the gaps, creating new ones in their place. The Alliance host was quick to exploit these gaps, and its units charged in as soon as they spotted one. The formation that had originally been a circle now resembled a dried prune more than anything.
It was not long until resistance began to crumble completely. Battle order disintegrated together with the last remnants of unit cohesion. Units that had been fighting effectively were quickly cut down until there was very little left. Individual unit leaders began to disobey standing orders and surrendered, heedless of the magical kill-switch that had been cast on them. Before long, there was only one left standing.
"Curse Thales and his folly," groused Odesse as he nursed his gut wound. It was lethal.
He had put up a valiant fight, but even a mage of his talents was not invincible. On top of it, there had been no demonic beasts nearby for him to summon. His defeat had been swift and decisive.
He collapsed shortly thereafter, only noting absently that an arrow had inflicted another wound upon his body. His breath grew shallow and his eyes heavy. He felt cold.
Odesse committed his last thoughts to the over 10'000 men and women he had lost in this debacle. He hoped that the ones who had escaped were safe, and that their comrades on other battlefields were having more success. Then, he stilled, and died.
11th day of the Verdant Rain Moon 1181. Aegir territory, city of Lindburg.
Edelgard scowled as she considered recent developments. The emergence of new enemy forces had led to setbacks on the Aegir front. She had been forced to lift the siege on the Duchy's capital and retreat to friendly territory. After that, skirmishes and a handful slightly lager engagements had forced her to retreat further than originally intended lest she be surrounded. This withdrawal had eventually found its end at the city of Lindburg.
The city itself, while part of Aegir territory, was one of a deep tradition of the Seiros faith. Legend had it that the city was founded by Saint Seiros herself as a fortress to secure the surrounding lands in the War of Heroes. That adherence and loyalty to the Church of Seiros had served as an irritant to Edelgard once, but now it was a fortunate turn of events. The people had opened the gates for her forces and welcomed her. She was currently allied with the Church of Seiros, after all.
It was a small break in an otherwise very bad month so far. The imminent victory in the war had been snatched away and instead been replaced with continued war against a superior foe. Unless the enemy unexpectedly collapsed like a poorly built sandcastle, the war would last several months longer than anticipated; possibly even years. The warm welcome she had received here was thus a slight balm for her irritation.
With the situation being as it was, she was now stuck in the office that had been provided to her deliberating her next move.
"Hubert," she said to the man beside her, "How should we proceed?"
The man grabbed his chin pensively as he answered, "We cannot afford to retreat further. Morale would not endure. Additionally, we face the risk of the enemy forces fanning out and sowing destruction in the territories we hold. These resurrected bandits are Nemesis' warriors; people who we have been informed love wanton destruction above all else."
"The fact remains that we are outnumbered at present. The difference is not insurmountable, but the campaign would suffer if we lost too many troops. If we turn around and meet our foes head-to-head, we must win decisively," said Edelgard grimly.
"You are correct, Your Majesty," replied Hubert, "It is a risk, but we must attempt it. Fortunately, there are factors that favour us."
Edelgard grimaced. "Are you speaking of the Agarthan defectors? I am unsure if we can trust them."
Hubert nodded and answered, "Indeed. Their loyalty will always be in question, but we can still make use of them. Perhaps a vanguard position-"
"Your Majesty!" The shout interrupted Hubert. It came from the door, where a soldier poked his head in. "Banners on the horizon! They're coming from the west."
"Were you able to identify their coat of arms?" asked Edelgard.
The soldier shook his head. "I did not recognise it, Your Majesty. The banners bear the imagine of a sun and an eye within on a field of white."
These banners were new, so neither the Emperor nor her right hand could fault the soldier for not recognising it. Even they had only learned of it recently. "That is the heraldry of our new allies. They do not yet have an official name, but they consist of Agarthan defectors, former captives of ours," she informed the soldier. "Tell the troops to be wary but not hostile. While they have not yet proven their trustworthiness, it would not do to spark hostilities. We have enough on our plate as it is."
The soldier bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty," he said and the left.
Edelgard then turned to Hubert. "We should prepare to meet them as well. We can continue our discussion afterwards with the full war council."
An hour later, Edelgard, Hubert and some of their officers stood at the city gates. Riders bearing the banner of the newcomers were fast approaching. There were five of them, though, curiously, only four horses. One of the riders wore with a second one in the saddle. Edelgard recognised those two as they approached.
"That's Byleth and Lysithea," she said to herself.
The riders arrived a moment later. While she knew Byleth and Lysithea, the other three were a mystery to her. One of them was clearly in charge of the others, considering the intricate pattern on his armour, but the other two were dressed like guards.
Everyone dismounted from their horses, as was proper protocol when the host was not astride a mount. Respectful bows were exchanged.
"Your Majesty," began the Agarthan she suspected to be the leader, "I am General Haran, leader of the Agarthan exiles you see behind me. I have come to introduce myself to you."
Edelgard inclined her head. "Greetings, General. Welcome to Lindburg. The reinforcements you bring are a relief for my troops."
"Yet you view us with apprehension," countered Haran.
A small frown now adorned Edelgard's face. "My apologies," she said.
He shook his head and replied, "That is not necessary. There is enmity between our peoples, and it is easy to understand that you would not trust us. Frankly told, my people hold no trust for you either, but we have a common enemy. We will work together until Thales is defeated; be assured. What happens afterwards, however, is still an uncertainty."
"How unexpectedly honest," said Hubert with a dark chuckle.
Edelgard shot him a quick look of reproach and then took the floor again. "It's an acceptable answer for now. We will discuss the details during the war council after you have quartered your forces. It will take place in two hours in the castle at the centre of the city."
With a nod from Haran, the formalities were concluded. The Agarthan party left soon thereafter, leaving behind the two others who had come with them to greet Edelgard.
The Emperor smiled as she looked at the two of them. "It's good to see you. I did not expect your arrival."
"Grandmother thought that it would be best if I left Garreg Mach. She believes that the siege's purpose is to keep me there, and she refuses to fall victim to an Agarthan plot," said Byleth in response, "But I'm also happy to be back."
"The Professor took me with him because he thought that I'd like to see you again. I did miss you, so I let him convince me," explained Lysithea.
"Well, in any case, I am very glad to have you by my side. I have been struggling to deal with the stress of the war lately, and your company comes at a very welcome time," admitted Edelgard.
Byleth could not help but engage in a minor bit of mischief. "Happy to be of assistance," he teased.
Lysithea chuckled next to him. "Likewise," she added. "But seriously, if my presence helps you relax a bit, then I'm glad I agreed to come."
"Thank you, little sister," said Edelgard with a smile.
The shorter girl made a noise of embarrassment. "Don't call me little!" she protested.
Once more, Byleth could not stop himself from engaging in a bit of fun. "It's the hair," he said, "That colour makes you look adorable."
"Hey!" shouted Lysithea in partially feigned outrage but also very much pleased. She liked it when people commented on her "new" hair colour.
Edelgard meanwhile laughed.
Wishing to continue with his shenanigans, Byleth then told her, "Your brown hair, on the other hand, just makes you look more beautiful. Others would call it plain, but I think it's radiant."
The laughter immediately ceased. In its stead, Edelgard was beset by a rapidly spreading blush. To compensate for the resulting silence, Lysithea started giggling.
Teasing people is fun, thought Byleth to himself.
"Byleth! Please don't embarrass me like that in public!" exclaimed Edelgard.
Lysithea had a different opinion, however. "No, please continue. I'm enjoying this."
Byleth allowed himself a small chuckle and said, "I'd love to, but we have preparations to make. I need to meet with Shamir and Jana to talk about the state of my corps. I also need to pick up Lars from Haran's camp."
Edelgard sighed. "You are right. There are still matters to attend to before the war council. And by the time we're done with that, it will be dark."
"That still leaves some time to catch up," pointed out Lysithea. "We can have another talk then."
The Emperor smiled. "I would like that. Let us have a little heart-to-heart this evening, then."
14th day of the Verdant Rain Moon 1181. Derdriu.
"Sylvain!" yelled Ingrid.
"Yeah?" he turned and asked back.
The two stood near the barracks of the city, where the Kingdom's army was currently stationed for the day. Sylvain was by the gate, intending to leave. Ingrid had just left the stables and spotted him. She had been forced to yell to get his attention due to the distance.
Once she stood next to him, she asked, "Do you have time? I'd like to talk to you. Alone, if possible."
Sylvain was of half a mind to tease her, but the serious expression on her face conjured one on his own. He valued his friendship with her deeply, and he was not about to be deliberately insensitive when it was clear that something was bothering her big time. So, he simply nodded and gestured for her to walk.
She led him to a small side building of the barracks which normally served as the quarters of the garrison commander. The woman was currently quartered in the palace, however, which freed up this place for others. Ingrid and Annette had taken residence in there instead. Since Annette was currently on kitchen duty, this afforded Ingrid and Sylvain a degree of privacy.
"So, what did you want to talk about?" asked Sylvain. "It sounded urgent."
Ingrid looked uncertain on what to so, and he could see that she made several false starts. Eventually, she said, "It's… it's happening. The thing we talked about. I need your help."
Sylvain threw his hands up. "Back up a bit and take a breath. Give me some context."
She took a deep breath and sighed. "Do you remember the conversation we had before we faced Rufus for the last time? Things have become worse since."
"How much worse?" asked Sylvain.
Ingrid explained, "Now that Rufus is dead, a lot of nobles already act as if the war is over. The ones who don't are still investing in the war effort and don't have many funds available. There has been an increasing number of proposals for my hand. All of them come with a lot of money, which House Galatea desperately needs, but I'm under no illusions that I wouldn't end up being a bedwarmer and broodmare. Or worse."
Sylvain grimaced. "It's come to this, huh? I promised to help and I will. How are we going to do this?"
The young woman swallowed the lump in her throat and said, "I'll write my father and tell him there's a potential betrothal on the table. Your name will have to come up."
"I thought as much," said Sylvain. "Guess I'll have to write a letter to my father too. He'll be all stubborn about having to pay a bride price, but since he's so obsessed with Crests, he'll like that my bride-to-be has one."
A look of disgust came over Ingrid. She said with disdain, "I hate how much of an importance everyone puts on Crests. They dictate our lives and we just have to sit there and take it."
A short burst of cynical laughter escaped Sylvain. "Ha! You're right on the money. How I hate it. The Crests and everyone obsessed with them. At times, it seems like everyone just wants to use people for the Crests they bear."
Ingrid cringed. "I'm sorry," she said.
"Whatever for?" asked Sylvain with a raised eyebrow.
"For using you to get out of an unpleasant situation," she answered.
He shook his head and said, "I would've minded once, but it's okay. You didn't choose to be born with a Crest. Not to mention that I was the one who offered this in the first place. If anything, I should be sorry. I know you're not interested in me. Plus, I get to avoid other, unpleasant betrothals as well with this arrangement."
The way he had phrased his knowledge of her lack of interest made Ingrid uncomfortable. She was aware that this was the sort of situation the would usually sting a man's pride quite significantly. "You're not unattractive," she said diplomatically.
He snorted. "But you don't love me. I don't blame you. I'm not exactly prime husband material. All things considered, I've not been a good friend to you either. My track record with you is abysmal. How you don't hate me is a mystery to me."
"Don't say these things," protested Ingrid, "Yes, your antics were irritating – infuriating even – but you've always been there when I needed help or was in danger. I've always hated your womanizing, but I've never hated you as a person. And even then, you've dialled it back a lot this past year."
"We've talked about this before, haven't we? I was a heartbreaker out of a misguided sense of revenge against women and the world in general. It was pathetic, and I'm glad I stopped. Knowing my reasons would have been more than enough to make you hate me more; not less," he said. "I'm glad you don't think I'm scum, but I'm not deluded enough to think you're happy about becoming my betrothed. Besides, you're still attached to Glenn's memory."
Words failed Ingrid, mostly because he was right. She was not thrilled to have to resort to this approach. In fact, she was only doing so because she was confident that her father would otherwise have been pressured into accepting a betrothal to someone who would have made her life a nightmare. He was also right that she still grieved Glenn. Sylvain was simply the last safe option.
"I… I'm sorry," she said.
He shook his head. "I told you, don't be. Maybe someday your opinion of me will change. Even if it doesn't, I'll try not to make you unhappy. I won't stop you from being a knight, you know? Far be it from me to deny you your life's ambition."
She sighed. "I'm glad to hear that. I'll make an effort to make this work too."
"Don't force it," he said, "I'm not doing this just to get a good-looking woman. I'm doing this because you're important to me."
Ingrid was surprised by the compliment and the admission. Despite herself, she was flattered. Normally, she would not have been moved by his typical pick-up lines, but she had a feeling that this was more genuine.
Oh Goddess, she suddenly realised with a sinking heart, He likes me.
She was beset by an awful feeling. If she was right, then this was up there with the worst sort of things she could ever have done to him. She would be with him, much like he wanted, but he would also know that she felt nothing resembling romantic feeling towards him. That had to be some form of-
"I know what you're thinking," he interrupted her thoughts. "Don't stress out over it. You owe me nothing."
His statement abated the conflict in her somewhat, but she was still a bit unsure. "Okay. Seriously though, I'll try to make this… arrangement work. You're trying to accommodate me. The least I can do is to return the favour."
Sylvain chuckled slightly. "Can't say I'm unhappy to hear that."
She inclined her head, and silence ensued.
"Well, I guess it's time to write that letter to my father," said Sylvain. "You should probably do the same. His Majesty might call us at any moment to discuss our next move."
"Yes, you're right," replied Ingrid. "I'll see you," she said.
"See ya," he responded and exited the room.
AN: Hello there, dear readers!
Welcome to another chapter of Headmates. Seiros and Byleth have decided to foil what they believe to be the Agarthans' plans; there's a back-up plan, after all. Claude is up to his schemes again, and Odesse pays for it with his life. Edelgard gets to have a reunion with Byleth and Lysithea, new hair colour included. Then, there's also the return of Haran, whom we first met in chapter 32. The background of his Agarthan exiles will be explored a bit in chapter 57. And finally, two of the Blue Lions got some screen time again, even if the subject matter of their conversation is a bit uncomfortable. Not everything can always go smoothly. All that said, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
Next time, we will be with Hyperion and Sothis again, dealing with the problems of the second Fodlan. I'm not sure yet if it will be the last or second-to-last chapter there, but I'll wrap that subplot up soon. It's time for the two deities to stretch their legs a bit.
At this point, I would like to thank everyone who has followed, favourited and reviewed this story. Headmates as achieved another milestone at over 800 follows. I'm happy that it's become so popular.
Well, that's everything for today. Until next time. Stay happy and healthy, everyone!