Chapter 20 – Final Duel
The throne room doors rumbled and shuddered. A couple of wood beams braced against the doors and nailed to them held it firm. A myriad of muffled voices called for blood on the other side, demanding Dimitri's head and jeering at the kingdom's downfall. A hundred fists and bladed weapons beat and attacked the doors, ready to cleave those inside in half. They only paused as another thunderous boom crashed against the doors, no doubt some battering ram threatening to break them open.
On their side, Annette chewed on her thumb amid the last of their soldiers. They numbered close to fifty and only a fraction of those were battle-ready. Any injured were sequestered in a private room behind the throne, where Mercedes and Dorothea worked whatever magic they could to tend their wounds. Mercedes herself was about to collapse, having run nonstop all over the castle to heal anyone who needed it.
When Annette tried to encourage her to rest, her friend had smiled. "I'm fine. These people need me." But her pale face and jittery hands said otherwise.
Many of the remaining soldiers were just as tired and frightened and who could blame them? Annette was scared out of her mind too. They had the rebels bottlenecked in a corridor outside, but once those doors opened, if they didn't keep the rebels out of the throne room, they would stream in and surround the kingdom forces. Not if, when.
Dimitri must've realized that too, but he showed no sign of weakness. He stood stoic at the head of his small band, chest proudly puffed out, gripping his lance tight, as staunch and stolid as a rock against the coming tide. Ingrid and Gustave flanked him on each side, completing the indomitable show of force. They wouldn't go down easily.
Behind Annette, Bernadetta moaned and her arrow clacked and knocked against her bow. She was holding up better than Annette expected and she gave the scared girl an encouraging smile.
Felix stood beside Annette, sword at the ready and watching the door, unblinking. She never understood how he could be so calm before a battle, especially one as desperate as this. But she was glad for it. It eased her own nerves, if only a little. However, the battle fatigue was getting to him, as it was her. She felt drained, as though she needed a week-long rest to recuperate.
Dimitri moved between Gustave and Felix, never taking his eyes off the door. He lowered his voice, but Annette still heard him. "What do you think?"
"They'll make it through the door," Felix said. "And the windows in here are too high to escape."
"And the walls too thick to break through." He looked to Annette. "Could you conjure a barrier of some kind?"
"I don't know if I have the strength to hold it," she said. "They have mages out there who could tear it down. I maybe have enough left for one large spell to take out some of them, but that's all."
His lips thinned and he nodded. The terrible truth stood before them, though none of them dared speak it aloud. They were trapped, with no help in sight, and no clear path of escape. Short of some miracle from the goddess, this was their last stand.
The soldiers murmured nervously to one another. They realized their situation all too well and some asked if surrender might be better. Felix glared at Dimitri. "You need to do something. You're our king, so lead."
"Right." Dimitri stepped back between Ingrid and Gustave, furrowed his brow for a moment, and looked to Felix once more. "Soldiers of Faerghus," he said, his voice clear over the battle cries on the other side of the door. "I know you are afraid. That this battle appears already lost and our lives forfeit.
"However, do you know what I see? I see the bravest men and women in Faerghus – no, all of Fodlan. I see soldiers who have sacrificed time and again to save the people of the land, who have faced down the darkness with the courage of King Loog himself, and shouted back, 'We will not yield! We will not fall into the abyss!' "
He stepped forward and faced his troops, pointing his lance behind him at the doors. "What do they have? Murderers? Cutthroats? Villains that cower in the shadows? What is that compared to what we have? We have the most valiant knights," he nodded to Ingrid and Gustave.
"The brightest mages of our time," Annette smiled at the compliment and he turned to Felix, "the most skilled swordsmen. And yes, even the most courageous archers." Bernadetta mumbled to herself. "I see the finest soldiers I could ever ask for. And we have the goddess herself supporting our cause. We know this. I have seen it myself during the course of the war."
The door splintered as the battering ram struck it again and the rebels' cheer filtered through. The soldiers shifted, but Dimitri demanded their attention. "Our allies are on their way. But we must buy them more time. So I ask you, will you stand with me? Soldiers of Faerghus, will you drive our enemies back? Will you protect your home? Will you face down the darkness one last time and declare, 'This is the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus! By the goddess, you will not have our home or our lives!' "
He looked round the room at them and Felix raised his sword. "We will! Faerghus! Faerghus!"
Ingrid and Annette joined the chant. "Faerghus! Faerghus!"
Soon, the rest of the troops joined the chorus, stamping them feet, beating swords on shields, and raising loud shouts to the ceiling. Dimitri took his place beside Felix and Ingrid, and waited as another piece of the door splintered open.
"You really think they're coming?" Felix muttered to him.
"I do," he said.
"So do I," Annette said. "The professor has never let us down before. I trust she'll be here."
"Let's hope you're right," Felix said as one of the door handles broke off and a beam cracked. "We're going to need them."
"Just keep them bottlenecked," Dimitri said. "That should be enough to…Wait, why'd they stop?"
Complete and absolute silence fell over the throne room as the constant pounding ceased. The soldiers braced themselves and Felix stepped forward. Where one of the door handles had been, a large gaping hole the size of his head peered out into the corridor, dark and black.
Annette sensed it before she saw it. She knew the sensation of magic all too well and the familiar heat of a fireball. She screamed for Felix and he immediately ducked as a gout of fire swept into the room.
She expected it to strike their army head-on. Instead, it blasted into one of the beams angled against the door and broke it in half. The upper portion swung off its nails and Felix rolled out of the way, back to Dimitri and Annette.
Through the hole, a slender hand jabbed through, already conjuring another spell. "Stop her!" Dimitri shouted. "Archers!"
Annette heard a shrill scream behind her as arrows flew overhead. It was too late. The fireball loosed and seared through it. A few of the arrows struck their target and the mage cried out, gasping her last as the pounding started again.
"Get ready!" Dimitri ordered and the soldiers scrambled into position.
Annette helped Felix to his feet. "Annette!" Dimitri pointed at the doors as they creaked and bent. "Now!"
She stepped forward and summoned every ounce of strength she had left. The doors exploded inward, the ram forcing its way through, and rebels started forward on either side. She focused her hands down the center and let out her spell, hoping to catch as many of them as possible.
Lightning raced forth in the blink of an eye, arcing through the enemies. Dozens yelled and dropped their weapons, collapsing to the ground and convulsing. She gritted her teeth, drawing on whatever reserves she had to propel the lightning further into the corridor, catching more of them. Scores of rebels behind them backed away in fear, pushing for cover as their allies fell.
When she'd spent all she had, Annette fell to her knees, gasping for air. Felix swept up and pushed her behind him. Her head spun and she looked up at him. "Stay behind me."
She shut her eyes, willing her vision to stop shaking. The sudden battle cries didn't help. Soldiers stormed past her, rushing the corridor. Felix placed a hand on her shoulder and met her gaze. "Wait here."
He moved to join them, but she tugged on his waist. "Come back to me," she said. He nodded and she let him go.
The rebel army quickly recovered from Annette's spell. Climbing over the bodies surrounding the ram, they charged Dimitri's forces with renewed vigor. Their numbers appeared endless and it dawned on Felix that despite her best efforts, she'd only defeated a fraction of the enemy.
They were at a clear disadvantage. However, Dimitri waded into the fray, cutting down foe after foe, refusing to show any sign of fear for their people's sake. Felix followed suit, driving through Faerghus soldiers to the front and slashing the nearest rebel across the chest. He stepped over the rebel and a vacant-eyed Bias, staring up at him with arrows sticking out of her ribs.
Their only hope was to end things fast. Anaximandros, Felix thought. They needed to find Anaximandros. If they could kill him, they might be able to scatter the rebels. He stabbed one frenzied cutthroat through the side. The bearded wild man turned on him, spittle flying everywhere, and hewed at his left ribs, tearing through armor to the skin. Felix stumbled back and chopped the man in the shoulder, putting him down.
Then again, maybe not. He held his side, trying to staunch the bleeding and quickly assessed the battle. The rebels were fighting with an intensity he hadn't seen. Probably because their target was right before them. Still, Anaximandros was their best option.
Felix cut wildly through a swath of rebels to Dimitri's side, standing shoulder to shoulder with him between the wall and the battering ram. It was cramped and they could barely move. Felix noticed an open gash ran down the side of one of the king's legs. Dimitri favored the better leg, putting his weight on it.
"We need to put down the leader," Felix said.
"Do you see him?"
As though answering the question, a sudden wave of dark magic coursed through the corridor on the other side of the ram. Several soldiers, including Ingrid and Gustave, flew backwards and rolled into the throne room. Through the gaps in the battering ram, Felix spotted Pittacus, the veil failing to obscure the sheer delight she took as she threw out another spell, breaching their line and letting the rebels stream through. Behind her, Anaximandros marched with deadly intent, stabbing any fallen soldiers along the way, snuffing out their pleas for help.
"Dammit! This way!" Felix blocked a blow from the nearest rebel and socked him in the jaw, sending him reeling. Then he grabbed Dimitri's shoulder and pointed to the other side. "Back to the throne room! We can catch him there!"
But by the time they made it back to the threshold, it was too late. Despite the best efforts of the Faerghus troops, the enemy pushed them back and forced their way into the throne room. Pittacus raised her arm, aiming for the center of the rear guard, the archers, and Annette. The redhead girl scrounged up a bow and arrow from a fallen archer and clumsily tried to nock it.
Pittacus grinned, the swirls of deep purple building about her fingers. Felix jumped and pushed through the crowd, sword raised high, and swung with all his might.
When he looked up, Pittacus and he both looked at her arm. Or where it had been. She turned to Felix as he slashed her midsection and she fell backwards against the ram, mouth slowly drooping and blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Then she slumped to the ground and bowed her head.
A deep burn cut through his left shoulder and Felix stared down at the tip of a blade poking through. "You're going to regret that," Anaximandros growled in his ear.
Dimitri yelled somewhere to the side and the sword withdrew quickly, leaving Felix shuffling forward. The wound bled profusely, snaking down to the cut in his ribs and mixing with its red stained outline. His left arm felt weak and he couldn't lift it.
Annette rushed to his side, ripping off the hem of her dress and stuffing the material into his injuries. "It'll be okay," she said over and over. "You'll be okay." However, he wasn't concerned about the wounds. For some reason, all he thought was how lovely she looked with the light sparkling off the tears in her eyes.
Behind him, Dimitri faced off against Anaximandros. Rebels poured in and surrounded the remaining soldiers, forming a fighting circle and keeping anyone from leaving, while most of the rest of the enemy army blocked off the corridor, handling any isolated soldiers. Most of the Faerghus troops in the throne room laid on the floor, injured or worse, and the few standing were exhausted. The archers had spent their arrows and the swords and lances of the rest were covered in so much gore as to be useless.
"Lambert's disappointment," Anaximandros sneered and gripped his sword with both hands. "At last we meet. Tell me, how does it feel to be the last king of Faerghus?"
Dimitri spun his lance and planted his feet, ready for any sudden moves. Blood dripped down his forehead and curved around his eyebrows. He wasn't in any position to fight alone against Anaximandros, who hadn't even broken a sweat. "Not bad. Considering I'm also the first king of Fodlan. In what will be a very, very long line."
Anaximandros threw back his head in laughter and the rebels joined him, a hateful chorus echoing through the throne room. Ingrid and Gustave moved to assist Dimitri, but he shook his head. As long as it was the two of them, the rebels wouldn't attack. For now.
Felix murmured to Annette, "Are you sure you don't have anything left?"
She shook her head. "If you could give me a few minutes."
Dimitri didn't have a few minutes. He nodded at the bow and arrow she still held. "Can you shoot?"
"Not well."
Anaximandros calmed down and rolled his shoulders. "Oh, you have spirit. I'll grant you that. I'm willing to be merciful. Lay down your arms and submit, and I'll make your death as painless as possible. That's more than the goddess' children will receive, I promise you that."
Dimitri glowered at him. "Do you think I would bow to anyone who dare threatens me and my people?"
"No, I suppose not. You are a stubborn brat after all."
Silence swept through the throne room, the calm before the storm. It suddenly shattered as Dimitri exploded forth intensely, jamming his lance at Anaximandros. The rebel leader parried it and swiped at Dimitri. The king jumped back, but Anaximandros pressed the attack, landing blow after blow on the haft of the lance.
"Try to aim high on my signal. I'll take care of the rest," Felix said, stepping away from Annette as casually as possible. Dozens of pairs of eyes watched him from the makeshift ring as he knelt down, pretending to rest. Beyond the throne room, he heard a few shouts and clashing of swords. Stragglers making a last stand, he supposed.
Dimitri spun around Anaximandros and stabbed upwards. The black armored man stepped out of the way, now on the receiving end of Dimitri's flurry of blows. The king feinted left, then right, catching Anaximandros across the left forearm. The spear tore into the vambrace, but didn't pierce it and Anaximandros threw him off.
"Where's the great warrior king I heard so much about?" he asked, dodging a blow. He rushed past Dimitri, slicing him across the shoulder. Dimitri stumbled and his grip weakened for a moment.
Felix flicked his gaze to Annette and tensed his legs. She nocked the bow and drew it back carefully, pointing it at her feet.
Dimitri charged at Anaximandros, lance at his side, and yelled. Anaximandros raised his sword, grinning. "Yes, come so I can take your head."
As Dimitri thrusted his spear at the rebel leader, Annette quickly raised her bow. She aimed at the tall man's head and let the arrow fly.
Felix followed right behind it, sword raised high. The arrow whizzed past Anaximandros' head, but it was enough to grab his attention. Dimitri pressed the attack, hammering against the sword, while Anaximandros turned left and right, trying to determine who had interrupted their duel to the death.
He didn't notice Felix until the swordsman was right on him. Felix growled and ran his blade through Anaximandros' twisting torso, catching him in the hip rather than the middle. His face flashed with rage behind the helmet and he threw Dimitri away from him. "Damn you!" He swung at Felix, who withdrew his sword and quickly backed away. "I should've just killed you back at our base."
"Yes, poor decision on your part." He and Dimitri had Anaximandros pinned between them and the wound bleeding down his side helped. However, their own wounds were worse and had had longer to fester, so waiting for Anaximandros to die of blood loss was out. Felix glanced at Annette hopefully, but she bit her lip and sadly shook her head. No magic yet either.
Anaximandros glanced at Annette curiously. Felix had to keep his attention on him. "If you want to kill the king, you have to go through the Shield of Faerghus."
"Is that a fact? If you're so eager to perish alongside your king," Anaximandros raised a hand and several rebels joined him, "that can be arranged." Death cries and scared yells echoed out of the corridor, giving voice to the frightened soldiers trapped in the ring of rebels closing ranks around them.
"I'll cut you down," Felix said, putting more bravado in his words than he felt. After all, the battle was essentially lost. All he could hope for was to drag Anaximandros down with him.
He readied his sword and Dimitri brandished his spear. The rebels split off, facing them down, and Anaximandros smiled at them. "I'm going to enjoy this."
A sudden boom echoed from the corridor and the combatants faltered, turning to the noise. Felix hadn't realized it before, but the rebels outside ran into the throne room hurriedly. Fled, actually, pushing and punching their way through, covered in lacerations, burn marks, or dragging injured companions.
"What in Fodlan is going on out there?" Anaximandros bellowed and a cheer answered him.
Felix glanced out the corridor, still keeping his sword pointed at Anaximandros. Above the heads of the numerous rebels, he saw Faerghus soldiers. Numerous soldiers, with Sylvain, Dedue, Mercedes, Ashe, and others ordering them. Not only that, but he saw additional troops, the Knights of Seiros, cutting through the rebels with ease. At the head of the army, Byleth strode forward confidently, taking on all those brave enough to cross her path.
He couldn't believe it. They came. They actually came, like a miracle from the goddess herself. Anaximandros seemed to violently shake with rage at the sight. "I think you're right," Felix said and Anaximandros glared at him. "Almost. We're going to enjoy this."
"The false goddess will never put us down!" Anaximandros yelled and rushed for Dimitri with two of the rebels beside him. The reinforcements closed in, but they wouldn't make it to the king in time. Felix needed to stop Anaximandros himself.
He ran toward the line of five remaining rebels determined to stop him. Felix stabbed one through the chest, ducked another's swing, and used the corpse on the end of his weapon to block the other three attacking. He pushed the body off his sword and left the other rebels behind. He had to reach Dimitri.
Dimitri had already slain the two rebels with Anaximandros. The leader himself swept up on him as the last underling went down, his sword raised high. He had Dimitri dead-on. Felix wasn't going to reach him in time.
Then Anaximandros stopped in his tracks, unable to move forward. He wrenched his foot, frozen to the floor in a thin, hastily formed block of ice by Annette's hand. She slumped to the ground as Felix breezed past her and pierced Anaximandros through his back.
On the other side, Dimitri did the same, landing the killing blow in the center of the tall man's chest. His sword dropped from his hands and clattered to the ground. "Damn you. Damn the goddess."
They withdrew their weapons and he collapsed into a heap. Felix rolled him over with his foot and confirmed that he was gone. The last one was finished. It was over.
All around them, the rebel army exchanged nervous glances with one another. Then one by one, they dropped their weapons and raised their hands in surrender.
As the last few gave up, Byleth finally cut her way through to the throne room. She made a beeline for Dimitri and swept her arms around him. All the weight he'd been carrying gave way and he collapsed to his knees in her arms.
Dedue pushed through with the others and, together with Ashe, started corralling the remaining enemies into a group. Sylvain approached Felix, whistling and nodding appreciatively at him. "Looks like you did just fine without us."
Ingrid joined them, glowering at Sylvain. "What took you so long?"
"Whoa, easy there." He pointed to Byleth. "We were on our way to chase down the rebels Dimitri sent us to when we ran into the professor leading the Knights of Seiros. She suspected it was a ruse and we hurried back as quick as we could. Speaking of," Sylvain looked at Felix suspiciously, "I'd like to hear more about those bases you sent us to."
"It's alright," Annette said, standing beside Felix and taking his hand. "It wasn't his fault. He's fine now."
"Hm, well, I'd like to hear it later all the same. In the meantime," he nodded to Ingrid, "why don't I get you over to one of our healers?"
"What about the army outside Fhirdiad?" she asked. "And the townsfolk we sent to escape?"
"All taken care of," he said. "Most of the rebels scattered when they saw us approaching. The townspeople are safe. C'mon." With that, he led her away down the corridor.
"You should probably see a healer too," Annette said, touching his shoulder. His hissed as her fingers brushed it and the gash in his ribs, hyper aware of the pain now that the adrenaline died down. Blood soaked the cloth she stuffed there earlier.
"Doesn't sound like a bad idea." He shuffled slowly forward, Annette holding onto his arm and offering her support if he needed it.
Byleth fussed over Dimitri, examining him and wiping away the trails of blood from his forehead. He cupped her head and smiled as he spoke to her, no doubt reassuring her that he was fine. Dedue kept splitting his attention between the king and Mercedes, who had emerged from the back room and fallen into his arms, at the limit of her energy.
In the corridor, they passed Bernadetta as she helped Ashe prop up one of the injured soldiers before moving him. Ahead, several healers were helping people into rooms down the hall and quickly converting them to makeshift infirmaries. They herded Felix and Annette into one of the rooms and over to a couple of beds.
A half hour later, the healers had bandaged them up and tended to their minor injuries. They instructed Felix specifically to refrain from moving much. He laid back on his pillow and looked over at Annette. "Looks like it's finally over."
"I hope so," Annette said. "I could sleep for a month."
"Me too," he said. Then quietly added, "As long as it's beside you."
She blushed furiously and raised her blanket, hiding her face. "You're so evil, Felix!" He laughed and winced. "Serves you right."
That only made him laugh harder and he continued despite the pain. For the first time, in a long time, he felt happy and at peace.