"It's nearly time," Wilhelm looked handsome, as he usually did. Combed brown hair sat atop his head, with a perfectly shaven face. His robes were an appropriate mix of practical and regal, as befitting a lord—no, it was king after the latest battles. The outer layer was black, with gold trims and flourishes, and a complementary red undershirt. Warm, sea-green eyes matched the ocean outside the window. "I'll have to leave tomorrow."
"Yes." Seiros wore her usual robes: a white dress with elaborate embroideries. Undoubtedly it had taken weeks for the tailors and embroiderers to weave the ensemble together. Wilhelm always said it complimented her long green hair beautifully, even as when it was dyed blonde. "You will."
"Don't say it like that." Wilhelm was frowning now, the slightest impression of crow's feet forming next to his eyes. "The negotiations and ceremonies will be over in a short few months, and then I will return."
"With a wife."
What little mirth still on his face vanished. "Yes." Wilhelm said. "I will—"
Seiros made the first move, grabbing Wilhelm's collar and crashed her lips into his. He was surprised, but offered no resistance, melting into her embrace. Without a second thought, she tore through his tunic, and pushed Wilhelm down onto the nearby bed. He was well practiced, and began to undo the buttons of her dress while he kissed his way down her neck. Seiros found him too slow, and ripped her garment apart. The two collapsed into the sheets, intertwined.
Later, as the sun set, both laid next to each other. Seiros rested her head on Wilhelm's shoulder and stared out into the harbor, watching as the last few ships docked before the sun's light completely faded from the sky. Wilhelm busied himself with sorting the knots out of her hair, occasionally touching her long, sharp ears. He had always been fascinated by them, but always had enough courtesy not to pester her with his touching, content to occasionally run his finger down their edges. It was soothing, in its own way.
"When you put it like that," Wilhelm said, after the silence stretched too long. "I almost think that I was the one who pushed for this marriage."
Seiros snorted, almost in good humor. "You'd think."
"I don't have to do it, you know." He remarked. As though they hadn't had this same argument a dozen times before. "I can call off the wedding. Tell King Ludwig that it wasn't worth it."
"Oh?" Seiros glanced up at Wilhelm. "Whatever would make you do that? And after all the wars we've fought to get here, you'd throw it all away? Surely the king would not take kindly to this."
"It's simple." Wilhelm reached down and kissed her back. "I'll explain that my foolish eye had wandered." He trailed up to her shoulder. "Caught under another woman's spell. I would never be able to give his daughter the proper attention." Across her neck. "That this beautiful creature consumed my every waking thought for years now, and I needed to marry her instead." On her cheek. Ever so delicately. "And once he comes to the wedding, he would take one look at this woman, and have to agree." His lips ended on hers, slow and passionate.
"And what makes you so certain your would-be bride will agree?" Seiros hummed as she wrapped her arms back around him.
"As it happens, I've been having carnal relations with her for the past few weeks." His fingers ran down her thighs, and she rewarded him with a pleasant sigh. "And just the other day, I heard that the goddess frowns on such romances out of wedlock, so I must save her honor. What do you think, Lady Seiros?"
"The commandment sounds familiar." She shifted her weight, climbing on top of him. "But for the life of me, I can't remember any such scripture."
"I really do mean it, Seiros." Wilhelm smiled. Earnest, genuine. "I love you. More than anything, anyone. I will always be yours."
"My Wilhelm." She returned his warmth, savoring his words. "I love you too."
Like all beauty in the world, it would not last.
They again embraced, and held each other through the night, under the light of Sirius. In the morning, both were gone.
Wilhelm traveled east, to the Kingdom of Gronder, the next largest state still free of Nemesis' tyranny. The king, Ludwig, had been playing coy with Adrestia for years, but now that Wilhelm had grown strong enough to push his territory into the Oghma Mountains last spring, it was clear he would be a major force in Fódlan. King Ludwig had offered to join their kingdoms through marriage, hoping to secure his own legacy, tying his line to a young nation with the voice of the goddess, and the strength to oppose the Eleven Elites.
For their part, Adrestia would be hard pressed to disagree with the union: absorbing Gronder would grant a nigh-bottomless breadbasket, give plenty of soldiers for the upcoming battles, and control over the mighty Airmid river. This would allow Adrestia to rule trade throughout the region, grant easy access to Almyran goods, and undoubtedly secure even more alliances with smaller territories and warlords just from the momentum. It would be the moment they had planned for: finally, the Adrestian army would be ready to attack Nemesis directly, and start their Holy War to free the world from the King of Liberation. Not to mention, it would put an end to the saber-rattling of border nobles on both kingdoms, who were itching to go to war with each other over petty slights.
It was the right move. The correct decision. The only true path forward.
Seiros continued her preaching. On a humble stand of crates in the dusty streets of Enbarr, she preached the faith of Sothis before a captive audience. "And so with the grace of the goddess, we shall cast down the vile King Nemesis, and reclaim the world he stole!" The crowd, easily several thousand strong, roared in approval. The wounds inflicted by the Eleven Elites and their warlords ran deep, and anyone who preached his death was met with approval. The fact that Seiros had gone into battle with Gloucester and forced him to flee last year only made their belief in her more fervent. "Through holy martyrdom, we shall tear his armies asunder, and grind his generals bones to dust, so finely that not even the eternal flames of Ailell will have anything left to burn!"
"Tell them about our king!" Someone in the crowd shouted above the rest. "Tell them how he brings more into the flock! How even now, Nemesis grows to fear him!" Almost certainly one of Vestra's men, using her to spread good news.
Still, Seiros was happy to oblige. "It is true!" She cried out. "King Wilhelm is in the Kingdom of Gronder now, securing a union between our nations!" The crowd murmured amongst themselves. "When our armies join, Even Nemesis, for all his fabled strength, will know to fear the army of the goddess!"
"Is it true what they say, Lady Seiros?" A woman called out. "That King Hresvelg will be wed to the princess of Gronder? That the royal line is secure?"
"...Yes, it is." Seiros remarked, before swiftly moving on. Such a lazy plant deserved to be glossed over. "I say to you truly, it is divine providence! The Goddess Sothis grants our king victory after victory!" Really, what a ridiculous question. Who on earth could be inspired to anything by it? "When our armies are joined, nothing will stop our Holy War from sweeping across the land, and consuming the wretched scum who have infested it!"
The crowd cheered, ecstatic. Seiros breathed it in, and let their euphoria wash over her, as she had for the past few decades.
An hour or so later, the crowd had mostly dispersed, and Seiros retreated back into the palace gardens. The wing was small, but steadily growing. A great many flowers were in bloom, their pollen wafting through the air, and was particularly fragrant this year: The lavender and honeysuckle were quite overpowering, so much so that Seiros had to move away. Perhaps it was a good sign of things to come? Growth in the city portending their greatness? A sign from Mother?
She came to settle next to a young oak. Not quite a sapling, but one that still had centuries left to grow. In fact, if Seiros recalled correctly, this was the same young tree that she and Wilhelm had stood beside when they first swore their pact to destroy Nemesis…
"And there is the lady of the hour." A voice snorted. "How goes the rabble-rousing, sister?"
Seiros opened her eyes to see Macuil staring down at her, with Cichol standing besides him. Their pale hair was losing some of its luster, and the dye would need to be reapplied soon.
The hatred Nemesis had spewed had cut deep, and even if they were now champions of Adrestia, even if it had been decades since one had last been seen, all humans knew the hated Nabateans had pure green hair.
"The faith spreads." She grunted back.
"I heard your sermon." Cichol remarked. "It was thunderous. Quite inspiring."
"And I heard it from across the city, every day, for the past three weeks." Macuil drawled. "Can the humans truly not control themselves? Some of us have work to do…"
"But I have concerns." Cichol finished. "About you, Seiros."
She raised an eyebrow. He continued. "These calls to arms have very violent imagery in them. Open calls for blood. Slaughter. I even heard you mention martyrs?"
"Battling Nemesis will be bloody."
"But you're doing this all in mother's name." Cichol pressed his lips together before continuing. "She never spoke of things like this, even when the Agarthans were at their worst—"
"What do you want me to say, Cichol?" Seiros snapped. "That I lack mother's charisma? Her power of persuasion? That I can only call humans to bloody war?"
"No, it's just that—this is dangerous, Seiros."
"I am well aware." Her eyes rolled back into her skull. "But we've been over this before. Nemesis must be stopped, no matter the cost. Hundreds of thousands will die—"
"If not millions." Macuil added.
"—But we do it all to free Fódlan from his wretched rule. To free our brethren from their filthy hands." Seiros finished. "The dead will have vengeance, and the living justice."
"Hear, hear." Macuil clapped.
"...It's just…I don't like it." CIchol managed.
"This is war." Seiros looked up into the tree's branches. New ones were forming, still green. Brushing against other, more developed leaves, forcing one and the other to turn out in new directions. "We all have to make unpleasant decisions."
Seiros had initially ignored the letters from Gronder. Most were mundane status updates from the bishop she had sent in her stead, a man who enjoyed rattling off every insignificant detail he could think of. Besides, she had little reason to concern herself with the matter. Wilhelm was well practiced in statecraft, and while she had little doubt King Ludwig would make things difficult, the alliance was all but assured.
Still, Seiros made sure to look over each letter as they came in, just in case something important was written, which it never was. From what Seiros gleaned, things were going as expected. Ludwig was impertinent, but Wilhelm made due. Gradually, the bishop's writings shifted focus—even he couldn't bring himself to care about every little detail. Apparently the weather was just as pleasant as it was in Enbarr, and the fields stank of manure.
When the next letter arrived, Seiros was tempted to throw it into the fireplace without a second thought. She resisted, and glanced through her bishop's latest correspondence. More talk of the negotiations, comments on other noble's temperament, and details about the princess Wilhelm was to—
Seiros' brow furrowed. The bishop noted Princess Elanor was young, pretty, and seemed desperate to be wed as soon as possible. That she would always try to sit next to Wilhelm. That just last night, when the princess thought she was alone with him, she had taken his hand and placed it—
From then on, the bishop's letters were immediately placed in her kindling pile. All the better, as the wax he was using to seal the letters was starting to make Seiros' nose curl—It smelled like it came from a human ear.
A week passed, much like any other. Seiros continued to preach. The letters continued to come, and continued to warm the night. Macuil mentioned that he was making good progress on her shield, and that it should be completed before summer was over. Cichol brought Cetheann over for a tea party, which was relaxing.
And then a letter from Wilhelm came.
Dearest Seiros,
Negotiations are going well, and should conclude within the next month. Gronder is charming—fields of wheat, stretching as far as the eye can see, even atop a wyvern! The scenery is a pleasant change from our beloved Enbarr, especially the Airmid. The river seems almost as vast as the ocean at points, but without the salty sea air in the evenings. The current makes it difficult to swim, even at the gentlest points: I'm still not sure how anyone can sail upriver, but the people manage.
King Ludwig is as expected. A cunning, conniving man, he is determined to see—There was smudging here. Signs that Wilhelm had erased the words several times.—the union of our kingdoms on his terms. It is slow, and he is rightfully fearful of Nemesis' reprisals. I have spent quite a bit of our time giving him the reassurances he needs. Indech is providing quite a bit of help in that regard. At least both Ludwig and I have to deal with nobles at our shared border ready to start a war if this falls through.
Overall, I expect—More smudging.—that the business will be concluded in a few week's time. I shall—Again.—look forward to seeing you again after this is all over.
Ever warmly,
Your Wilhelm
Seiros read the letter over carefully several times. It was good news, undoubtedly so. The kingdoms would soon be joined. One final, minimal effort before their great war began. There would only be a few more years of preparation and border skirmishes before war erupted across Nemesis' empire. It was good news.
But why did something trouble her? Seiros searched the letter again, looking for whatever had given her pause. It was nothing actually written, that was for certain. Perhaps it had to do with Wilhelm's rewritings? They were never apart long enough to swap letters regularly, so Seiros didn't know if this was Wilhelm's usual writing habit. Perhaps it had something to do with the shortness of the letter? He thankfully didn't spend much time going over the fine details like the bishop she had sent, nor did he make any mention of the princess—
Ah.
Idly, Seiros glanced down at another letter she had received. The bishop was still using wax with an offensive odor, but it was somewhat palatable today. She held the offending piece of sealed parchment up for study: about the usual thickness.
Seiros weighed her options, before cutting open the seal. The letter contained a large number of procedural notes on the negotiations, estimates of grain quotas, and the fitness of the soldiers already within the Gronder army and how they hated the idea of joining with Adrestia, none of which being terribly important. Then, halfway through the third page the bishop shared actual information:
The princess continues to pursue King Wilhelm. To his great credit, our king is resolute in the faith, and refuses to dishonor Lady Elanor with sexual relations before marriage. Truely, he is a pious man. Though King Ludwig seems displeased at this. Truly, these heathens are unenlightened—
The message went on to other frivolous topics, but it revealed enough. Wilhelm, bless his heart, was holding out for as long as possible. For her. What a hopeless, romantic man. Too afraid to come out and say it in his missive…
…What in the goddess' name was she babbling about?
Looking over the missive once again, it was clear. Ludwig, a shrewd and conniving man, had set his daughter to seduce Wilhelm. If she slept with him before their wedding, Ludwig could rightly demand a greatly increased dowry. Wilhelm could see the forest for the trees, and knew to leave well enough alone.
And here Seiros sat, stewing in schoolyard jealousy. The path forward was decided. This was nothing more than a momentary distraction. She flicked the bishop's letter into the fireplace without a second thought. As the page crackled into nothing, Another scent caught Seiros' nose. Looking about her chamber, her eyes eventually settled on the culprit: Wilhelm's note.
His seal was of the usual beeswax and just a touch of cinnabar—enough to give the regal, red color, but not so much as to overpower the faint ghost of honey still found in the residue.
Seiros found it unbearable. She hesitated, but threw the letter in with the other, both erased from history.
"By the goddess's hand, plants took root, birds took to the sky, and animals roamed the land. Last of all, she created humanity." Seiros recited in front of the children. They all stared up at her with bright, wide eyes. It was one of the smaller orphanages in Enbarr, with barely 200 in its care. Still, they were children, and all of them were precious.
"When the humans wished for power, she granted it. She gifted them the blessings of the heavens and of the earth." The caretakers were happy enough to allow her the pleasure of caring for their flock for one afternoon, giving them time to rest. They deserved it too, with barely ten women to look after so many young ones, all so full of energy and life. Seiros was always happy to oblige.
"By way of the magical arts, humanity attained great power, yet unaware that great power portends great evil." The toddler on her knee cooed as some of the other children gasped while others shushed them. It was always a delight to watch.
"By the grace of the goddess's divine protection, humanity thrived." The toddler reached up to touch Seiros' hair, distracting a number of other children.
"I'z pwitty." Was all the child had to say for himself. Seiros smiled, and ruffled the small tuft of hair growing on his head.
"As is yours, my child." Seiros laughed. "But let us wait until the story is over, and then you can play with my hair."
The boy was entranced, and put his thumb back into his mouth. The rest of the children grumbled at the interruption. "Through her blessings, they grew prosperous and their numbers rose." Seiros continued, and the children quieted. There was something so delightful about human children. So curious. So carefree. So innocent of the great horrors. If nothing else, she would take Nemesis' head and end the war for their sake. Perhaps then she might open an orphanage of her own, and take care of all the youths that man had torn from their families and mothers.
"Before long they became—" The words died on Seiros' lips. A migraine sprung out of nowhere. "They became—" She closed her eyes, and rubbed her temples.
A number of children called out to her. "Lady Seiros, are you okay?" "What's wrong?" "Do you need medicine?"
"No, thank you children." Seiros managed a smile. "Just a headache, that's all. Something I woke up with this morning." Her tea had fixed it too. Perhaps it was time for a second cup.
"You should see a healer, Lady Seiros!" One of the children called out. "Mrs. Finkle says we should always find one whenever we get sick!"
Her head was throbbing, but Seiros smiled through it. "Thank you, child. When our time together is over, I will do just that."
It was worth looking into, at least. How long had it been since Seiros last felt sick? She couldn't recall. And besides, she had been feeling oddly in the past few weeks. After finishing her visit to the orphanage and saying goodbye to the children, Seiros retreated back to her quarters, and cast a few spells. None of the usual healing magic did anything to alleviate her throbbing head. Still, it filled enough time for the tea to come to boil, which more or less put an end to it. Still, some sickness had taken hold of her. Whatever it was, it needed to be dealt with quickly.
Seiros did not have total mastery of white magic, but she had enough experience to cast a spell of diagnosis. Or perhaps not, as the magic came back with no sickness detected. She cast it again, and received the same result.
Frustrating. Seiros considered seeking out a more experienced healer, who might have more luck. Or perhaps it was all just a momentary sickness, caused by some bit of dust stuck on last night's meal. After all, the diagnosis spell had signaled that both of her life-forces were free of any taint. If there was no illness to be found, perhaps it had simply been fought off in the time it took to brew tea—
,,,What?
…Both life-forces?
Seiros quickly recast the spell, one last time. At the confirmation, her teacup clattered to the ground, and Seiros sat, as if bound to her chair.
Slowly, she looked down at her belly. Gently, her shaking hand placed itself atop it. The magic did not lie. It was faint, but she could sense a second, independent life growing in her stomach.
As always, thanks to paradoxsage for beta reading!
So this is what I've been working on instead of the next few chapters of my other fic—not to worry, it will be getting updated soon enough. I just wanted something smaller to wrap my hands around for a few minutes. I also wrote this to be canon compliant with both my fic and actual canon, or closely enough for how little we know of Rhea's past.
In any case the trouble begins here. Because like all worlds where marriage is a financial transaction, what's love but an obstacle to success?
Oh, and as a matter of continuity, all the Nabataens have dyed hair because they do in Three Hopes, and because we never really learn why that was the best explenation I had.