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cinlat · 2 months

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Blood in the Breeze: Ch 19 (End Times: Pt 2)

Parts one and two of this series linked.

Read every chapter on FFN or Ao3.

Summary: Shit hit the fan. Now for the cleanup.

Chapter Word Count: 3,257 Chapter Rating: T Author’s Note: Whole chapter under the cut. Better formatting on Ao3.

Odessen Alliance Base Landing Platform 0500 Hours

Jorgan's lungs burned in a desperate plea for air. Grey crowded the edge of his vision, and only the drumming of his pulse kept rhythm with the speed of his feet. Don't trip, he repeated like a mantra, occasionally sprinkling in silent prayers of, Be alive, damn you.

From the moment Fynta had hit the ground, Jorgan had started running. He focused on his breath, on the uneven ground beneath him to keep from snagging his boots on the ripped soil. There was no room for the debilitating fear in his heart, only the constant, agonizingly slow movement forward. He wouldn't think of the raw power that erupted from Vaylin in her final moments, or the fact that his wife, a human with no previous Force ability, had stood before the mad child's psychic storm. He couldn't dwell on the knowledge that it hadn't been his wife, and for a fleeting moment, Jorgan had considered pulling the trigger.

The clank of boots on metal jarred Jorgan's senses. He stumbled, caught himself with one hand on the decking, then continued running. By the time Jorgan reached Fynta, she was kneeling with Kaeto's head in her lap.

Others milled about, starting the tedious process of clearing the debris and tending to wounded. They gave Fynta a wide berth, casting awed glances that turned to fervent whispers as they passed. It wasn't until Jorgan drew closer that he realized why.

It felt like hitting a wall. His frantic pace came to a sudden halt, forcing Jorgan to acknowledge the pain in his joints and burning in his chest. He pushed forward, only to be repelled. Ripping his helmet off, Jorgan opened his mouth to shout when a hand rested on his arm. "Wait."

Jedi Master Notiac Carlo stood at Jorgan's side. Her head tilted as if listening to something. Jorgan pulled free and started forward again. Felix appeared on his other side, gripping Jorgan's shoulder. "Trust the process, brother. This is above our paygrade."

"That's my wife," Jorgan snarled, but he didn't shake Felix away. The man had traveled with the fabled Barsen'thor. He knew things Jorgan couldn't imagine. It didn't make standing down easier.

"She is stabilizing," Notiac whispered, one hand swirling through the air as if playing with smoke.

From the opposite end, Arcann moved closer. Jorgan's senses came alive, every hair on his body rising in warning of a long time enemy. Felix's fingers tightened on Jorgan's shoulder. "Just a little longer."

Jorgan bared his teeth at the young emperor, tracking his movement across the landing platform, through the barrier that kept him locked out. The man stepped with caution, waving his mother back when she moved to join them. Jorgan couldn't hear what was said, but he saw Fynta's shoulder's tense when Arcann squatted by her side. Their lips moved, then Arcann lifted Kaeto from Fynta's embrace and walked back towards his mother. At Senya's command, two Sith moved in to collect Kozen's body, presumably to perform last rights elsewhere.

"She is ready," Notiac whispered.

Felix released Jorgan, and he took a step forward. Though the invisible wall had faded, a sense of rage buffeted Jorgan's mind. A peak at the temper he'd known lived inside Fynta all along. Now, it was being nurtured by the most powerful bastard in the galaxy.

Finding his steps unhindered, Jorgan closed the distance at a run. He slowed the last few feet, instinct warning him not to touch her yet. "Fynta." She gave no response, only stared at her hands where they rested on her thighs. Jorgan knelt beside his wife, resting one hand on the back of her neck. "I'm here."

"You never left." Fynta's tone rang empty, and when she looked up, Jorgan saw the same bone deep weariness in her eyes that he'd seen all those years looking back at him in the mirror. "I heard you, but I couldn't—"

"It's okay." Slowly, Jorgan eased Fynta closer until his arms encircled her and his chin rested on the top of her head. "It's over."

Fynta winced and pressed the heel of one hand to her right eye. "Damn shabuir won't shut up."

"What is he saying?" Lana appeared from thin air, as was her way. Theron and Zolah weren't far behind. Together, they encircled Fynta so that she was cut off from prying eyes.

"He wants me to go to Zakuul." Fynta hissed and squeezed her eyes shut. "To take the throne."

Jorgan's snort ruffled Fynta's bangs, but it was Zolah who spoke. "Take her home." The spy's gaze never wavered from Fynta's face. Though her tone was cool, Jorgan heard sympathy behind it. "People think she's invincible at the moment. Let's use that as long as we can."

"While harsh," Theron interjected, "She's right. Fynta needs to walk away before she falls apart. The Alliance needs this win."

Jorgan wanted to snap at everyone to move back, to leave his wife alone, but Fynta beat him to it. "Help me up," she whispered into Jorgan's chestplate. "I can't feel my left leg."

Looping an arm beneath her, Jorgan leveraged Fynta to her feet. The first couple of steps were wobbly, and her prosthetic gave out numerous times. "Something fried the circuitry," she concluded as they entered the main hangar.

A slow clap began at the back of the room, rolling closer as Jorgan and Fynta hobbled through the building. Someone let out a shrill whistle, which ignited a volley of cheers. Verin and Torian stood at the entrance to the base, soot smeared and proud smiles tinged with sadness as they watched their sister move through the crowd. Noara had one arm wrapped around the clan leader, and it looked like she might be holding him up as much as Jorgan was Fynta.

Cormac's tear streaked face came into view next, with Tayl balanced on his shoulders. Jorgan looked instinctively for Shillet, but she found him first. The girl slammed into them, her spindly arms wrapping around the necks of both Fynta and Jorgan. "You survived," she whispered, then stepped back and wiped her eyes.

Fynta chuckled and aimed a weak punch at the young nautolan's arm. "Never a doubt."

Concern crossed Shillet's face, but Jorgan shook his head when she looked at him. Plastering on a watery smile, Shillet slipped under Fynta's other arm. "You look like you could use a shower."

"And a long ass nap," Fynta added. She stumbled as they turned the corner, leaving the crowd behind with members of the War Council acting as shields.

"I'm about to do something you're going to hate," Jorgan warned as the echoes of cheers grew more distant.

Fynta glared up at him. "Don't you fucking dare. I can walk."

Jorgan stepped in front of Fynta and scooped her into his arms. It had been years since he'd lifted her like that, and that time hadn't been kind to either of them. Jorgan's back cramped and his knees grumbled, but he ignored them. "Shillet, get the door."

"I'll get even," Fynta complained, but she held still.

By the time Jorgan made it to their apartment with his burden, he was dizzy from the strain. Gone were the days of the young Cathar who could deadlift his wife. He was old and beaten down. So was Fynta.

Shillet palmed open the door, and Jorgan all but dropped Fynta onto the sofa. There was no way in hell he'd make it up the stairs. "Shillet, grab a water, will you?"

While the girl moved to comply, Jorgan bent to remove Fynta's armor. Shillet offered the water to Fynta, then wrung her hands. "I want to help with the clean up."

"No." Jorgan didn't look up from the fastenings of Fynta's boots. He didn't have to sense the agitation from his daughter. Glancing back, he pinned Shillet with the same glare that had failed every other time before. "There are dead bodies, roaming Knights, and rogue Skytroopers. It's too dangerous."

"I won't leave the base." Shillet looked to Fynta for help, then squared her shoulders and mirrored Jorgan's glare. "I can help."

The growl building in the back of Jorgan's throat faltered at Fynta's touch. He looked from his daughter to his wife, both so alike despite having spent a lifetime apart. Fynta offered a weak smile. "Cormac will keep her safe. He and Verin are making the verd'ika clear rubble as penance for sneaking off."

"Fine." Jorgan ground the word out. Shillet's lips split into a sharp toothed grin. As she turned to run back to her friends, Jorgan snagged her skinny wrist and tugged her into a hug that was too tight given the armor he wore. Shillet didn't complain. "You don't leave Cormac's side, got it?"

"Got it." Shillet kissed Jorgan's cheek, gave a thumbs up to Fynta, and started away again. Jorgan ruffled her head tresses as she went, watching until his daughter vanished through the door.

Fynta groaned as she pushed herself further into a sitting position. "You did a good job."

"It was a team effort." Jorgan thought back to the Havoc Squad he'd lost at the Spire. Of the gentle way each and every one of them imprinted a part of themselves on the girl. Shaking the old memories away, Jorgan faced his wife. "Come on, let's get you out of this armor."

Odessen Alliance Command Personal Quarters

Fynta's skin tingled like tiny flames dancing under the surface. Ever since Vaylin's death, Valkorion had jumped in and out of view, pausing time only to hurl Fynta back into the stream of movement. Her stomach heaved and it felt like her bones itched. Helping Shillet escape Jorgan's overprotectiveness had been as much for her as it had been for the girl. As Zolah pointed out, Fynta had just done the impossible, she couldn't break with witnesses. Not even family.

Jorgan pulled Fynta's boot off, then switched to examine her prosthetic leg. It sparked when he shifted the foot, sending a jolt through both of them. Cursing, the Cathar snatched his hand back. "We need to have that looked at sooner than later."

"If we leave it alone, it can wait until later," Fynta replied with a poor attempt at levity. Jorgan didn't laugh.

"Some new dings in the armor." Jorgan was avoiding the main problem. The ticking bomb in Fynta's head. "Maybe—"

"You didn't take the shot." Fynta knew he had it. She remembered the pain in his voice, begging her forgiveness. Fynta had been too far gone in Valkorion's power to respond, but she'd known he was there. I forgive you, she'd tried to say. Being removed from the instance, Fynta realized Aric's voice was the only thing that had kept her grounded in reality while lightning raged around her.

Jorgan's hands slipped on the buckle of Fynta's leg plate, then he resumed unfastening it with more concentration that was required. "Couldn't." It was all he had to say. Fynta never expected Aric to put a bolt through her, but she didn't know how to convey that in words. She was so damn tired, so damn electrified.

Hooking a finger under Aric's chin, Fynta bent down to meet his lips to hers. He went rigid at first, then cupped her face to add a gentle sweep of his tongue. With their foreheads pressed together, Fynta felt some of the tension in her body ease. Jorgan closed his eyes. "I thought—"

"Me too." Fynta had been ready to die. She'd always known it was a likelihood of facing Vaylin. And when Kaeto and Kozen's bodies had been dumped before her, nothing else mattered apart from ripping the little bitch to pieces. And then, she'd lived.

Aric pressed another chaste kiss to Fynta's lips, then went back to removing her armor. While he was bent forward, she slipped her fingers into the catches on his chest and back plates, letting them fall away. They continued undressing one another in silence, until only the clingy under armour remained. Jorgan settled on the sofa behind Fynta and pulled her against him.

"We should bathe," Fynta suggested even while the warmth from his body soothed her aching muscles.

"In a minute." Aric's arms tightened. Fynta didn't struggle. She had a feeling there would be time for that later.

Odessen War Room 13:00 Hours

Theron's back slammed into the wall. He put one hand on the fist gripping the front of his shirt while holding the other palm out to show submission. "Okay—okay. Look, before you hit me, hear me out."

"Make this good, Shan." Fynta stood behind her husband, the one currently pinning Theron to the cool and impassable stone. The flatness with which she addressed him was almost as unsettling as the sharp teeth inches from his face.

Theron had known Jorgan for a long time. He'd been on the receiving end of one of the Cather's punches before. That was nothing compared to the feral rage emanating from him now. After all these years, Theron finally saw what had first attracted Fynta to the grumpy bastard. She'd always had a taste for danger.

Theron avoided looking into the unnaturally bright eyes in front of him and craned his neck to see Fynta. Her arms were folded, mouth set in an unfamiliar frown. He'd known her longer, hell, he was half the reason she was here. Not just out of carbonite, but captured in the first place. If Theron hadn't put Fynta's name up for Garza's special assignment more than a decade ago, well, she'd probably be dead. She'd been on a self destructive path, and the snarling Cathar had saved her. But, it had all come at a steep cost.

"I know what you're thinking," Theron began. Fynta lifted a brow, and Jorgan's grip tightened. Theron blew out a breath. "It's risky, I know. But Oggurrobb has ironed out the kinks that Garza couldn't."

"Well, if Oggurrobb says it's safe—" Fynta pinched the bridge of her nose, then waved one hand. "Let's hear what he has to say, Aric."

Jorgan gave a final shove that made Theron's sternum creak before stepping back. "You heard the woman. Make this good, Shan."

There had never been a kinship between Theron and Jorgan. They'd tolerated each other's presence because the mission required it. It might have something to do with Theron accusing Jorgan of fucking his commanding officer for the wild ride that she was. It had been a poor attempt and building trust in a shared misadventure. He hadn't known at the time they were married.

"If you're done threatening my spy," Zolah drawled. The holo in the center of the table came to life with a schematic that made Theron's pulse quicken. It wouldn't look like much to the average pair of eyes, but Theron thought it was pure beauty. A small device, no bigger than the palm of his hand, capable of harnessing the most deadly power in all the universe.

"Darth Kozen," there was a barely perceptible pause in Zolah's explanation. Theron doubted anyone other than him caught it. "Studied the prison that Major Jorgan brought with him from Nathema. He was convinced that the answers to containing Valkorion rested with the soul inside."

Jorgan folded his arms, scowl increasing, but Fynta looked intrigued. She'd been furious to learn that her husband had stolen the artifact until he'd explained the ingenious idea behind it. Unfortunately, being trapped for nearly a milenia hadn't softened Valkorion's sire's heart. He wanted to bargain, but Kozen and Lana had other plans. Then, they'd lost the Sith Lord, and with him, a large part of their advantage. That is where Theron came in.

"I know things didn't go well when Garza tried this." Theron ignored Jorgan's growl, but the betrayal was still there in Fynta's eyes. She still hadn't forgiven him for his part in the Eclipse Squad incident on Rishi. Theron supposed that was fair. "But, they didn't have Oggurrobb or access to Zakuulan tech."

Fynta held up one hand, and Theron paused. His pulse skittered while he waited for her to shut him down. To his surprise, she only tapped the side of her head. "Should I be hearing this?"

"No," Quinn stated plainly. He'd been against inviting Fynta to this meeting in the first place, but Theron refused to move forward without her permission. He was done keeping secrets from the people who mattered to him.

Steering the conversation away from the details, Theron switched off the holo. "You have to consent to the next part."

Fynta's single brow lifted, and Zolah picked up the line of conversation. "You're aware of the Castellan restraints that were imposed on me?" Now, their commander's eyes widened. Zolah nodded. "Something along those lines."

Huffing out a nervous laugh, Fynta braced both hands against the conference table behind her. "Well, I guess that explains why Vector isn't here."

Vector had been against the plan from the beginning. His trauma from breaking Zolah free went so deep that the man couldn't see the practical value anymore. This could work. "Do you get it now?"

"Enough." Fynta shared a look with her husband, and Theron watched an entire conversation happen in a matter of seconds. Her browns lifted, and Jorgan's mouth thinned into a narrow line. When he sighed, Theron knew the answer had been decided. Fynta nodded to the room and pushed away from the table. "I'll leave you to it, then."

Without a backward glance, Fynta left the room. Theron saw fear in the stiffness of her spine, the lift of her chin. The more composed Fynta appeared, the more out of sorts she was on the inside. Judging by Jorgan's glare, he knew it too.

When the door shut, the Cathar resumed his menacing scowl. "Fill me in, and Shan—make it good."

#swtor #blood in the breeze #meet me on that battlefield #fynta wolfe #aric jorgan #notiac carlo #barsen'thor #felix iresso #theron shan #lana beniko #zolah holran #cipher nice #malavai quinn #senya tirall #arcann #the aftermath of the battle #stratgies for going forward #still slogging towards that end #only two chapters left

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the-greater-good-1899 · 9 months

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The dawn of November 1, 1945.

With the chaos of a recently graduated Tom Riddle sent out into the world, and the ministry breathing that much more down Albus Dumbledore's neck for the last few weeks after he'd been forced on "administrative leave" by the ministry while he was in their custody for the last several weeks, beaten and tortured until he gave into their demands to duel Gellert Grindelwald once more. He knew his husband's actions had grown more horrific over the years that even he could not ignore, and between that, the torture...

He had accepted.

The ministry was unaware of his possession of the resurrection stone, given to him by Flamel in case things turn for the worst in that duel. He's made enough potion to live out the next fifty years with himself and his wife- Should Albus not come home from this. Days before, he had sent out a letter. Part of him hoped it did not make it to him, or he would simply ignore his ridiculous quest for a final duel, to see who would finally come out on top. Or, in the ministries eyes.. If good would triumph over evil.

For the greater good.

Days later, he had anxiously arrived at that location, dressed in his usual attire. His wand was grasped tightly in his hand, other shoved in his pocket, wrapped tightly around the stone in his pocket. He had used illusion charms to hide what a wreck he really looked like, after what the ministry had put him through for the last several weeks. In his weakened state he might've still been quite the formidable opponent- But the ministries underestimated Grindelwald when it came to Dumbledore. He truly didn't know who would triumph this time. He hoped so desperately that the letter had not made it, or he would refuse.

But when was luck ever on Albus Dumbledore's side? @magicblooms

(template/layout credit to @seekingabettergood tysm <33)

#fandom: fantastic beasts & where to find them #muse: albus dumbledore #verse; for the greater good #otp; they got on like a cauldron on fire #magicblooms #duel of 1945 #hope u dont mind the spontaneous starter haha 👀👉👈#meet me on the battlefield | Grindelwald

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nikoisme · 9 months

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Hey y'all ever think about the fact that Scamandrius is a baby during The Iliad? Meaning that he was born during the war?? And what if Hector fought so he could give his baby son a safe world to live in??

#the iliad #hector of troy #tagamemnon #greek mythology #in my mind there's an alternate universe where hector gets to raise his son #it's a way for me to cope with the fact that he never gets to raise his boy #god fuck these little characters make me weep like a widow #but hector might have spent time on the battlefield while andromache was carrying their son #and apart from worrying about not fucking dying he worried about his wife #and every battle he fought was to meet his son and-#yOU GET IT #I DON'T FEEL LIKE TYPING OUT EVERY EMOTION THIS MAKES ME FEEL; OKAY??

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koumeowkami · 10 months

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so i came to the conclusion that

#too many twins to count #i really think i deserve some kind of degree on this matter #disclaimer: 2winmez are also cute but i meant it more as “cute - soft - happy” yk. so that category doesn't really apply lol #also yes there IS a difference between angst and “a fucking battlefield” believe me. you don't wanna meet the nijo twins #the nanase twins went through every stage but i know they care deeply about each other okay #only riku had that slight “i hate tenn-nii” phase but it's alright now. i guess #paralive #enstars #argopro #marginal4 #i7

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autumnmobile12 · 1 year

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We carry on through the storm Tired soldiers in this war Remember what we're fighting for ~'Meet Me On the Battlefield' by SVRCINA ... Alma and Yuu The saddest part about Kanda and Alma's arc is the tragedy of knowing they fought and killed and suffered and died for their cause...and then the Order made them do it again.

#d gray man #yuu kanda #alma karma #yuulma #d gray man fanart #d gray man fanfiction #kanda and alma #alma karma female #yuu kanda female #second exorcist program #the black order #exorcists #meet me on the battlefield #svrcina

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childotkw · 11 months

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Okay so meet me on the battlefield, Harry is the cyddler right. he just seems the type. Also how do Regulas and Voldemort learn who he is?

Harry is a cuddler, but it's only consciously with Regulus, since their love language is gentle touching. With Voldemort, any cuddling would only happen if Harry was already asleep / unconscious 😂

As for finding out Harry's true identity - Harry would tell Regulus the truth eventually, probably a few weeks into their alliance / friendship once they had some trust between them.

When it comes to telling Voldemort though...I kind of prefer the idea of him putting it together himself. I think it would speak to his intelligence, his observational skills, and his obsession with Harry, if he took the meagre clues given to him, made some educated guesses, and just confronted Harry and Regulus one day with the whole "so...Harry Potter, huh?"

He'd be so smug hahaha

#anonymous #HP #Meet Me On The Battlefield AU #harry potter #tom riddle #regulus black #regulus x harry x tom

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spearxwind · 1 year

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#sorry cringe post #i have to find out whether this guy has washboard abs or not asap bc if he does ill be taking the piss. taking home a double L #but other than that OH NO HES MEETING ALL MY STANDARDS #me; yeah i hate it when people mistreat their fish bc they dont look up their requirements #him; people killing their pet fish from negligence makes me so mad #me; i think i need to marry you #(i didnt actually say that)#on the other hand hes someone who loves loves going out a lot and im more of a chill person and im a little houhhhg about that bc its like.#damn what if im too boring 😔😔😔😔#do you think love can bloom on the battlefield meme but instead its #do you think love can bloom between a party monster extrovert and a weird little artist freak (me)#i guess we'll find out

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moregraceful · 6 months

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Sharks better be showering this man is kisses I swear to god

#or i'll do it. since yall are cowards #happy cuda hockey is for everyone night to all who celebrate #personally i just talked someone through a gender crisis at church so i need to say something stupid before i explode #wish mackenzie would explode in m- [continuous caltrain horn blast]#my birthday playlist is soooo good this year #i can't share it until my birthday (monday) but it's so good!!#it is not a cry for help. don't put in the papers that it is a cry for help #but i think it does very much capture a year that was hmm. chaotic at best #nightmarish at worst #i think today after i clean out my car and clean my bedroom i am gonna make a list of things i am proud of myself for doing this year #usually i try to make a list of positive things that happened in my life when i'm down but that's hard when i think abt this year #but there's a lot of stuff i did that i'm proud of #i did things this year to be proud of #i did a lot to be proud of!!!!#fresno oilers.txt #but for real. sharks r cowards. kiss this man with tongue or meet me on the battlefield (sap center parking lot)

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1eos · 4 months

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Did you get a gaming laptop? I remember talking about Phantasy Star Online 2 with you briefly and I've been wanting to serve cunt and kill enemies with you. If not, it did get put on PS4 too.

just found out phantasy star had a persona event.....im starting the download now

#asks #give me some time to perfect my character and we shall meet on the battlefield!!!!!!!!!!!

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johnmurphysgirl · 3 months

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#oc: lyra black #evan rosier #marauders era #death eaters #Corban Yaxley #ludo bagman #song: meet me on the battlefield #roleplay

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cinlat · 6 months

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Blood in the Breeze: Ch 18 (End Times)

Parts one and two of this series linked.

Read every chapter on FFN or Ao3.

Summary: Vaylin Attacks! Everyone else scrambles.

Chapter Word Count: 5,237 Chapter Rating: T Characters in Chapter: Fynta Wolfe, Aric Jorgan, Theron Shan, Zolah Holran, Vector, Malavai Quinn, Torian Cadara, Vette, Lana Beniko, Shillet Jorgan, Verin Ejnar/Wolfe, Tranx Vaak, Elara Dorne, Arcann, Senya, Vaylin, Balic Cormac, Darth Kozen, Master Kaeto Vaa, and special appearance by @kunoichi-ume Noara Starspark. And probably others that I've forgotten...

Author’s Note: Whole chapter under the cut. Better formatting on Ao3.

Odessen War Room 03:55 Hours

"Squads two and four to Alpha Quadrant Three. Seven and Ten, you're needed on the landing dock to clear the wreckage. And would someone shut off those fucking alarms?" Zolah didn't look up from her monitor while divvying out orders. To her right, Vector communicated with the medical staff, organizing and dispatching as needed based on the reports pouring in and security footage. Theron huddled at his desk, talking in short sentences with Fynta while she dressed in full view of the camera.

Quinn appeared at Zolah's back, brushing the tips of his fingers against the back of her arm before speaking. It was a friendly warning that he was in her blind spot. "Electrical grids for floors one and two have been damaged by orbital bombardment. I've cut power to the lower levels under construction and routed everything to the infirmaries."

"Good work." Quinn hadn't become Zolah's lover, but they'd developed a professional friendship with Vector at their center. She trusted the man and Vector's judgment. "News on the Enclave?"

"Unharmed. I've tasked units with escorting the young and injured there for safekeeping." Quinn tapped his datapad, then looked up. "It should be deep enough in the mountain to withstand the worst of the assault."

Though Zolah didn't fancy children of her own, the galaxy was nothing without a generation to leave it to. It eased something in her chest knowing that they would be protected. Then, Zolah wondered if that meant she'd gone soft. Maybe she was just getting old.

"Fynta's on her way to the surface." Theron appeared by Quinn's side. Any unease between the men vanished under the chaos of battle. "Torian is leading a group of Mandalorians into the forest, and we have pockets of Force Users taking charge of ground troops."

Zolah flicked the monitor in front of her. The crack down the middle gave it a double image, but there was no mistaking the dropships unloading hundreds of Skytroppers. She sighed and pointed at Quinn. "Make sure we have access to all armor cams. I want a full view of the battlefield."

Quinn saluted and strode off. The man never ran, he never increased his speed so far that Zolah could tell, but he had a certain walk that warned people to stand aside or fall in line. He snapped off orders, sending runners to pass along the frequency all ground troops should tune their cameras to.

Zolah watched the man, grateful for his professionalism, then her gaze fell on Theron. He forced a weak smile. "Just like old times, huh?"

There was no need to ask what Theron meant. Zolah's chuckle ended in a sigh. "We did it on Yavin IV, we'll do it here."

Odessen Commander's Quarters

"I won't be able to join you." Aric's sighed words through Fynta's helmet almost made her stumble. When she'd rushed for the door, still pulling on her armor, Aric had turned in the opposite direction. He was going to get Shillet because that was his first duty as a father. Fynta's was to protect the base.

They'd sworn to meet once Aric was sure that Shillet was safe. Something must have happened to delay him. "Everything okay, riduur?" Fynta asked, focusing her attention back to the lumbering hunk of machinery beneath her. Bolts pinged off the walker's shell, and then the self-destruct of a sky trooper underfoot teetered her to one side. The Walker dropped back onto both legs with a jarring crunch that drove a curse from Lana.

"Ran into some trouble on my way out of the base," Aric answered. His breath puffed in between words. "I'm taking up a sniping position in the ridge overlooking the landing bay. Fighting is pretty thick there."

"Understood." Fynta had known when they promised to stay together in those dark, silent hours of the night that it was a lie. Aric was a soldier. More than that, he was a protector. He would go where he was needed. That wasn't presently by Fynta's side. "Lana and I are nearly at the Gravestone. We'll link up with Sonya and Arcann, then get the Gravestone free to join the fight in the atmosphere."

Silence met Fynta's plan, then her husband sighed. "Stay safe." Aric didn't like her working with Arcann. Fynta wasn't thrilled about the prospect either. That man had single-handedly turned her life, and the lives of those she loved, into a steaming pile of osik for years. But, Fynta never turned down an advantage. Right now, the contrite emperor owed her a debt, and she planned to collect.

"There." Lana gripped the back of the pilot's seat and leaned forward. Fynta followed her finger to the slash of gold and blue against the darkness of the Gravestone's hull. She didn't say goodbye to Aric, she never did. But he knew; she'd spent all night being sure that he knew.

The walker came to a grinding halt at the bottom of the narrow ramp leading to the Gravestone's perch. The ship was too big to keep close to the base, so they'd chosen a cliffside to dock it at. That seemed like poor planning now. Skytroopers swarmed the grating, threatening to overrun the Zakuulan Knight and her spawn.

Fynta flipped the lever to open the hatch, then unbuckled herself from the driver's seat. Without a word, Lana pulled the hilt from her belt and stepped into the opening in the floor. She landed with the practiced skill of a Force user, then darted into the fray. Fynta, being a mere mortal, grabbed the slender handrails and slid down the ladder that extended to the ground.

Lana had left a trail of broken droid parts, making tracking the Sith's progress simple. Fynta took potshots while she ran, finishing the crippled skytroopers that Lana hadn't bothered with. By the time Fynta reached the top of the ramp, the three were fighting in a tight circle formation.

The display of power impressed even Fynta. Arcann was the former emperor and galaxy conqueror, and Senya a vaunted Zakuulan Knight of legend. But Lana, with her quiet smiles and subtle manipulations, shined brighter than both when she finally displayed her full capacity for destruction.

The Sith woman leapt into the air, releasing a Force wave strong enough to topple trees when she landed. The remaining enemies were flung off the edge of the cliff and into the abyss beyond. Then, she straightened, fixed her hair, and nodded. "That takes care of that. What next, Commander?"

Docking clamps groaned free, and the Gravestone lifted into the night. Koth let out a gleeful shout over the comms. "Time to see what these new upgrades can do."

Fynta watched them go, then turned to the rest of her group. "The fighting has spread across the surface. Let's fix that."

"We will fight with you until the end." Arcann's gravelly voice carried a hint of emotion that Fynta almost pitied. She was sure the man cared for his baby sister in some capacity. It remained to be seen if he could hold up his end of the bargain.

Fynta looked at Senya, the real concern when it came to Vaylin. The woman had already betrayed them once by saving Arcann instead of letting him face justice. So far, it had worked in their favor. Fynta doubted they would be so lucky with Vaylin. "You saw what Valkorion did to your daughter?"

Senya winced. Fynta brought up the familial link to gauge the woman's reaction. The older woman didn't hide how difficult this was. With a dejected sigh, Senya met Fynta's gaze. "Valkorion destroyed what was left of my daughter long ago." The dead emperor chuckled in the back of Fynta's mind but otherwise stayed silent. He was enjoying this family drama.

Pulling her shoulders straight, Senya looked Fynta in the eyes. "Vaylin must be stopped."

"You need to draw her out," Arcann suggested, switching the military commander he'd once been. "Bring her to the surface."

Theron's voice cut through Fynta's helmet comm. "Sana-Rae just flanked the enemy, but she could use some more firepower."

Fynta nodded to Lana. The woman hesitated only a moment, her gaze flickering between Senya and Arcann, before darting down the bridge leading deeper into the wild. Her comm chirped again, and Torian's voice echoed through her helmet. "We're getting hammered over here, could use another vod."

Fynta checked Torian's position in the feed that Zolah had linked to her helmet. He was near the front lines. That didn't surprise her. "On the way."

As Fynta turned, Arcann joined her. She spared him a glance, and the man simply shook his head. "You will not face her alone." Fynta almost ordered him to stay, then decided against it. Her gut warned that she would need these two before the end.

Odessen Command Center Force Enclave

Cormac had three children clinging to him, and none of them were his son. Instead, Tayl stood by Shillet, who had started a game of jacks with a few of the tween kids. The younger ones looked on, learning from the mistakes of their elders. Meanwhile, the older kids, the ones who stood on the cusp of adulthood, paced with the relentless stride of a caged manka cat. Most were the Mandalorians that Verin had brought along, so it wasn't a surprise that they itched for battle.

Twice, Cormac had broken up a group of teens who had their heads together, casting keen glances at the exits. He had his eye on Tranx's girl at the moment. Zula barely reached Cormac's elbow, but she had the makings of a leader, unfortunately, it was the young and dumb sort, at the moment.

"Shhh, it's alright." Noara rocked a whimpering toddler, bouncing the boy on her hip. He curled closer when the thumps from above scattered dirt from the Enclave ceiling. Sana-Rae had requested the space be reinforced, but left as natural as possible to help the Force users meditate. It was a beautiful place with the rugged appeal of a long-forgotten cavern. It also gave the impression of instability when bits of the roof broke away and landed among the frightened children.

Then, there was Tayl. Cormac couldn't believe how big the boy had gotten. How much he didn't cling to Elara when she ran out the door with her medical bag. The resignation in those big, grey eyes when he took Cormac's hand for the trip down to the shelter. That was far more worrying than the cries and occasional screams of his peers.

Tayl's entire life had been war. Even when he and Shillet went to the best schools, they'd fought against their parents' reputations and struggled under the weight of those shadows. To Tayl, this wasn't the potential end of their brief moment of happiness, but the simple truth of life. He didn't cry, because all of his tears were gone.

The same could be said for Shillet. She remembered bits of her life before Havoc found her on that wrecked mudball of a planet. She'd won and lost so many battles that now all the girl did was survive. They might all perish in Vaylin's assault, and that was fine because it had always been a possibility.

"Are we missing some?" Noara stood on her toes, scanning the room. "I swear there were—oh no."

Cormac saw it at the same time. The Mandalorian teens were gone. He'd looked away for a second to consider his failure as a father and fucked it up again. "I'll find them."

Noara helped Cormac peel the skinny arms and legs from his body, only for them to latch onto her. She must have been using the Force to prop them all up because there was no way that tiny woman could support all of their weight. He made a placating motion at the Jedi as he backed through the throng of kids. "I'll bring them back."

The last thing Cormac saw as he snatched his rifle from beside the door was the resignation in his son's eyes.

Odessen External Docking Site Alpha

"We need more light," the medic to Elara's right complained. He was right, but they couldn't risk it. Not so close to the front lines.

"Night vision will have to do." The chrono in Elara's helmet told her that less than thirty minutes had passed since the first blaring siren, yet their triage had outgrown the medical tents.

Yuun carried the tail end of a stretcher, having volunteered to leave the confines of the base's intelligence command to aid his friend. They stopped beside Elara so that she could examine the boy. He was Mandalorian, barely older than the group that Verin had brought to Odessen. Her stomach churned at the thought that this could have been one of the children from Torian's clan. Verin's son.

Shaking those dark thoughts away, Elara scanned him and was relieved to find only a shattered foot. He'd lose it more than likely, but that could be replaced. "This one isn't critical, mark him blue and have the medics there administer a sedative. His fight is done."

Yuun tipped his head, then looked up at the sky. Flashes of light in the upper atmosphere, weapons fire between ships, looked like lightning in the clouds. "Many have fallen," her old friend clicked. "But, the way remains clear."

"Of course." Elara pulled her attention back to the surface, to the people who needed aid. Yuun was right. There was work to do on the surface.

The pair staggered towards the medical tents for the severely wounded but not fatal. Eara felt a familiar presence at her back and turned to find Malavai Quinn staring at the sky. She didn't know how to feel about the man. He'd made his opinion of deserters known from the beginning, labeling himself as one of the few people in the galaxy that her husband wouldn't try to befriend.

"Something isn't right." A line appeared between Quinn's brows. Elara looked up and saw the same thing he did. The lightning had stopped, and the clouds above the base began to boil.

Before Elara could register the danger, Quinn cursed and spun towards the captivated crowds. "Get the wounded inside, now!"

The first bolt struck the ground half a klick away. Bright light blinded Elara, she felt a bone-rattling tremor in the ground, then sound and pressure tossed dirt into her faceplate. Instinct kicked in, and Elara wrapped herself around Quinn, the closest unarmoured being. She'd barely recovered when another round struck further away.

"Orbital bombardment," Quinn stated from beneath Elara. He seemed unfazed that they were half buried in loose dirt with the weight of her armor bearing down on him. He wiped grit from his face and squinted into the sky. Had their lives taken different paths, Elara could have respected this man.

Elara pushed herself off Quinn and stood, she needed to pick a direction and move before more damage could be done. To her surprise, Quinn grabbed her arm. When Elara looked back, his face was open and earnest. "I have medical training. Put me to use."

"Get the wounded closest to the base inside and begin triaging any fresh injuries." Malavai nodded and released Elara. She had a direction now. He could handle the medical tents. Elara needed to get into the field. She turned and chose people at random, three Mandalorians and one Imperial soldier. Then, she took the medical kits off the nearest orderlies. "Men, we have comrades to rescue."

Odessen Skytrooper Landing Position Beta

Verin lifted Cinlat's old blasters and felt her soul in the kick of each shot. She'd have enjoyed this, he thought, taking down mechs instead of flesh and blood. For all her ruthlessness, Cinlat had never savored a kill. She'd done her job, and she'd done it efficiently. Skytroopers, however, now they were fun. Verin loved the little self-destructive pop that wrecked the machinery.

"Enemy ambush cut us off." Torian's voice wheezed through the speakers in Verin's helmet. There was pain in each word, and it stole any delight that Verin had found in battle. "I'm the only one left. Position's about to be overrun."

"Almost there, Torian." Fynta had started running, Verin could tell by the bounce in her tone. He pulled up a map that marked the members of Clan Cadera, then noted dots that marked Fynta's approach. Torian wasn't far, Verin could beat his sister there.

Turning, Verin took two steps when another group of markers caught his attention. His blood turned to ice even as he opened a line. "Boy, tell me you are not this stupid."

"Had to do our part, buir." Blaster fire and wild shouts overlaid Tranx's response. He was supposed to be in the Enclave with the rest of the young, not out here with—

The ground rose beneath Verin's feet, making him weightless for a split second before slamming him back to the ground. Tranx's cry was the only thing that kept Verin's wits about him even while his ears rang. "Hold on, son."

Verin scrambled up a newly formed hill of silt and mud. When he reached the top, the world was on fire. Dizziness pulled at him, but Verin shoved it aside and focused on the life signs of his son and those stupid enough to leave the safety of the base. The ground gave way under Verin's boots as he slid down the other side. What had been solid dirt seconds ago felt like rolling in sand.

When he reached the group of verd'ika, he did a quick head count. One was missing, but the rest were on their feet. Verin spotted Tranx's helmet and stormed towards him. The boy saw him coming, and even being a head taller, backed away and held up his hands. Verin grabbed his son's pauldrons and smacked their helmets together. He held him in that embrace long enough to swallow the lump in his throat. "Are you alright?"

"Think so." Tranx's gloved fingers dug into the grooves of Verin's chest plate like they had when he was young. It was the only indication of how shaken the boy was.

Verin released his son and addressed the rest of the group. "Weapons hot, do not hesitate to take the shot. You stay on my back and you keep up. Is that understood?"

Helmets nodded and the kids pulled into a tighter formation. Zula, in her white and orange armor and barely tall enough to touch Tranx's shoulder, stepped up beside Verin. "Lead on."

Verin took the long way to Torian. They were as close to their injured alor as they were to the base, and Verin saw no reason to leave Torian to die alone. By the time they reached the spot on Verin's map, Fynta had arrived with an unlikely escort. Arcann straightened, pulling his blade from a downed knight.

A bolt shot past Verin's shoulder, only to be deflected by Senya. The older woman glared, and Verin turned to find Zula's rifle pressed to her shoulder. As if sensing his gaze, the girl shrugged. "You said not to hesitate." Verin smacked the back of Zula's helmet, but inside, he beamed with pride.

"Friends of yours?" Arcann rumbled as he hooked his now dormant weapon to his belt.

Fynta didn't look back as she tapped on an alien communications panel. "My brother, Verin, and his gangly host of young warriors. Nice shot, Zula."

"I see." Arcann said no more, but he and Senya both took several steps back, making room for the Mandalorians to crowd around Fynta.

Torian leaned against the panel, one arm wrapped around his middle and pointing at the screen. "That was the main comms array. Should get you all the way up to the ship."

"Good." Fynta had removed her helmet and finally looked up at Verin. "Keep everyone back and quiet." She pressed the screen, and evil appeared.

"Well, if it isn't Father's pet." The girl couldn't be older than sixteen, but Verin felt the hatred radiating off her holo. "I was just talking about you."

When Fynta answered, she sounded exasperated. "I have been up and down this battlefield looking for you. I can't believe you're cowering on a ship."

While Vaylin and Fynta traded barbs, Torian limped closer. "She'll be coming for your sister."

"Never doubted that." An odd peace settled over Verin. He had a feeling that Fynta would find a way to cheat death again because this time, she had family at her back. Torian tripped, and Verin caught him. "You going to live?"

"Probably." Torian's voice sounded more strained than before. "Wouldn't mind a hot shower."

Verin chuckled and slipped his friend's arm over his shoulder. "I'll have Noara get right on that."

"The longer you draw this out," Fynta said, arms folded over her chest and smug grin in place, "The more time my agents have to infiltrate your empire. That throne's as good as mine."

Vaylin let out a hellish screech and the image flickered out. Verin couldn't say he blamed the girl, he'd been on the receiving end of Fynta's shit eating grin more times than he wanted to count. If anyone could needle a person into a fight, it was his baby sister.

Turning away from the comm, Fynta's expression turned serious. "Time to shore up our defenses. It won't take Vaylin long to launch her next strike."

At last, Arcann joined the group, though Verin noted that he kept his hands clear of his weapon. "We are ready."

Odessen South Quadrant

Kozen lowered his blade as the last skytrooper fell. He sensed Kaeto on the other side of the trees, her blood singing with the joy of battle. It drove his higher, strengthening his muscles and his will.

"Hey. Hey, can anyone hear me?" The tiny voice rang from the comm on Kozen's belt. He'd lost himself to bloodlust, but Vette's anxious tone brought him back. Kozen palmed the device to find the small Twi'lek who had once shared his ship.

Vetty blew out a breath. "It's about time, big guy. I could use your help."

"Where are you?" There was never a doubt that Kozen would go to her. Vette had softened his heart once, a reason why he'd sent her away. Spoiling the girl, is what Quinn had called it. Though the traitorous bastard had little room to lecture Kozen on the merits of command.

"South Quadrant." Vette popped up over a broken speeder and fired her blasters. "Getting real low on ammo here."

"We are on our way." Kozen ended the call and began running. Before long, Kaeto sprinted by his side, their Force-enhanced strength driving them faster than should be possible.

Though Kozen had never understood why, Kaeto often moved with her eyes shut, sensing the world around her. He supposed it had something to do with Notiac's teachings. A Mirialukan could not help but describe the Force in a different way than sighted beings.

Keato's eyes popped open. "She's close."

Kozen didn't question his lover's ability. She took the lead, and he followed. Together, they vaulted downed walkers and tore through straggling Skytroopers. A pang of, not fear, but sadness caressed Kozen's mind. It wasn't until they broke through the foliage that he understood why.

Vette's feet kicked uselessly in the air. Time seemed to slow down as Kozen took in the multitude of Zakulaan Knights and the woman standing at their center. Vaylin turned a wicked smile on them even as Kaeto drew her blades.

"You're not who I was expecting." Vaylin released Vette, letting the gasping Twi'lek collapse without warning. Kozen took only a second to note that she was breathing before shifting his focus back to Vaylin.

"I recognize you." The girl folded one arm around her middle and pointed at each of them with lackadaisical ease. First at Kaeto, then Kozen. "You're the one who killed father the first time, or so I'm told. And you, you were his Wrath." Vaylin chuckled. "What a useless title."

Kaeto's muscles tensed, and Kozen felt it in his own. They were in sync, one mind in separate bodies. He knew she was going to strike before she moved, and his reflexes followed. Vaylin's eyes widened for the span of a heartbeat, then Kozen was hurdling backwards. His back slammed into an overturned communications relay and pain stabbed through his right side.

Pushing himself upright, Kozen looked down to find his fingers coated with blood. Kaeto saw, and her eyes met his. "I'll see you in the beyond," she called over the roar of Vaylin's building Force. A smile touched her lips, and Kozen remembered this from the vision they'd shared one silent evening. The night Kaeto had finally let him in.

Kozen dipped his head. "In the beyond." There were other things that he wanted to say, but Kaeto knew them already. He'd held nothing back from this strange, alien woman who should be his enemy. They were two sides of the same coin, hopelessly entangled in a fate bigger than both.

There was nothing left for Kozen to lose. He would die beside his soulmate, a perfect equal. Kaeto leaped towards Vaylin with a guttural cry, paving the way for Kozen's attack. His legs already felt weak, his life's blood dampening the fabric of his pant leg. With a final surge of hatred from the Dark Side, Kozen followed Kaeto for the last time. Run, Vette. He sent the thought to the Twi'lek as he passed, moving sluggishly in that moment of pure clarity that comes with a final battle. Vette didn't hesitate, and Kozen didn't see where she went.

The agony of Kaeto's death could not be compared to anything Kozen had experienced before. She had been a vital part of him for so long, that the abrupt severing of their link left ripples in the Force that struck Kozen like physical blows. The golden light that warmed him snuffed out, leaving only cold rage in its place. He would not live through this battle, he refused to. His place was in the Force, beside Kaeto. Kozen would die to give Vette time to escape, but mostly, he would die to be reunited with his soul.

Odessen South Face of Mt. Ne'johaa

Jorgan turned away with a hiss. The image of Kozen's body, impaled by Vaylin's golden blade, his bloody sneer when his fingers closed on nothing but air, was burned into Jorgan's mind. Steeling himself, he looked back down the scope. It had all happened too fast, and Jorgan had never had a clear shot. He panned the scene, noting Kaeto's crumpled body at the Sith's feet.

Vaylin lowered her weapon and watched Kozen slide lifeless to the dirt. Then, she turned and shouted at her men. Jorgan couldn't hear the orders from this distance, but they no doubt included finding Fynta. She stormed into the forest while two sets of Knights gathered the once proud Sith and Faithful Jedi's corpses.

Until that moment, Jorgan had held out hope that they could beat Vaylin. They would turn away her attack because it only made sense for good to win. After seeing the almost casual way she'd dispatched two of the most powerful Force users in the known galaxy, Jorgan doubted. Even Fynta's indomitable stubbornness was no match for the unbridled hatred that fueled Vaylin.

Jorgan had repressed the urge all night to call his wife, now he didn't hesitate. "Fynta, you read?"

"Loud and clear, Riduur." Metal groaned in the background, and Fynta's maniacal chuckle gave Jorgan something solid to hold onto. "How are things on your end?"

Guilt tugged at Jorgan. He was supposed to have met her an hour ago, but circumstances kept detouring him. He looked back down his scope, noting the absence of Kaeto and Kozen's bodies. The decision of whether or not to distract Fynta with their deaths made him hesitate long enough for Fynta's tone to turn worried.

"Fine," Jorgan answered when Fynta prompted again. "I'm up in the mountains, picking off what I can. You?"

"Stomping towards the landing bay in a stolen walker." Someone cursed in the background, a deep, masculine tone that set Jorgan's hackles up.

Jorgan barely controlled the growl in his voice. "Who was that?"

"Sounds like you already know the answer to that one, love." Jorgan could hear the grin in his wife's voice until she sighed. "Arcann and Senya are helping me. We're going to take Vaylin down once and for all."

"You can't." The shouted words tore from Jorgan before he could stop them. Cold silence answered, and Jorgan tried to reign in his panic. He couldn't let Fynta face Vaylin head on, not after what he'd just witnessed. "Are you sure you can trust them?"

It took a few more seconds for Fynta to reply. "Yes."

Jorgan heard the tone of command in Fynta's voice, the subtle reminder that right now, she was his superior and he needed to accept that. Aric blew out a breath. "I'll head that way and offer support. You don't have to do this alone."

"Thanks, Riduur." Fynta's voice softened. "Stay safe."

"You too, and hey, leave the line open, will you?" It wasn't something Jorgan would normally request, but dread tightened his stomach so much that he felt sick. If Fynta was going to her death, he was going to damn well be in her ear. Jorgan had to face the fact that he might lose her again. This time, he wasn't going to miss the chance to say goodbye."

Jorgan stood and had taken two steps towards the landing bay when Bey'wan's growl filled his helmet. "Oggurobb's position is overrun, we need any available troops to cover their retreat."

"Sound like another detour," Fynta teased while the information filled Jorgan's HUD. "I'll be waiting for you."

"You better be." With a growled curse, Jorgan tore through the foliage in the opposite direction, away from his wife. Dropping onto his belly at the edge of the cliff, he sighted on the Skytroopers closest to the retreating forces. "Jorgan to ground troops. I've got your back."

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legaciestold · 6 months

Text

@honorhearted continued from x

sounds reverberate throughout the tunnels under the palace, dirt and stones shifting and falling as a battle of magick and swords and dragon fyre encases everything above. her body feels numb, not even the bloody wound to her skin felt as she's half drug along, deeper and deeper until they turn and then begin moving upward again. 'would you truly let your father's sacrifice be made in vain?' sir ben's words ricochet within her mind, the image of her father's gaze as he'd pushed her into ben's arms so clear. the high queen was dead, a prince was dead. the high king was dying or dead, and she'd been forced to flee as men and women died in her name. it was wrong. oh it was so horrifically atrocious! the princess doesn't remember ben raising her hand to the painting to allow them passage. she doesn't remember her screams or the way she'd thrashed in his hold. 'be strong, lyli -- live for him...for your kingdom!' when she'd recall these moments later she thinks that was the moment she'd stopped fighting. when something else had taken hold of her, wrapping around the horror and encasing it in a broken heart, using it as fuel and deciding she had to survive. her people were dying. her father was dying but she remained and her other brother did too. the horrors of this night would be too horrific if such a toll held no purpose. if she died and her people were left to the venomous wrath of an evil witch to rule them in terror.

and so she had stopped fighting ben and instead began leading them through the labyrinth of tunnels until sounds and smells met their senses, day blackened out by rising smoke as they meet quickly waning daylight a distance from the palace, and her dragon standing high and tall at the ready. there's one man too, a man she'd always fondly seen tending to the royal family's dragon companions. he's wounded, she can see, the bodies of three others laying splayed across the ground where they'd worked to aid him in preparing the riding harness on apophis. if their princess was to take to the skies she would not do it without some precaution. without the best chance for her survival and escape. these people had given their very lives to ensure it. other dragons, wild, spiral through the skies as they clash with two who have been enthralled, covering the activity taking place below. apophis moves closer then, laying flatter as the man meets her and sir ben and urges them forward toward the dragon. everything happens in quick succession then. her forcing benjamin with a commanding authority she'd lacked in her previous shock to get onto the dragon first because she hadn't trusted that he wouldn't attempt to cause her to escape and stay behind and her following quickly after, seated in front of him. she seeks to grant the man who had ushered them forward some form of comforting words yet apo rushes onward as a dragon crashes feet from them and takes the man with him in a cloud of dust.

she wants to scream. this time she doesn't.

the battle had raged around them, apo maneuvering in the way sir poe had taught them never having intended for her or the dragon to have to use such teachings in practice. dragons flank them, dragons fall, the capitol is in ruin. there's a point when anger begins to overwhelm everything else, as she watches myra's men slaughter people in the streets below. she knows they can not stop their escape yet she does have her dragon lower toward the ground, a single command for fyre uttered, engulfing myra's men and their dying victims with it before they surge back into the skies and away from the city, out over the water and into the night. fyre did not care what it touched, it was brutal, but it could be wrath and mercy in one. she thinks that's the moment she truly became something new. when youthful innocence had been tore from her and fyre had remade her. the serpentine princess lyliana had never taken a life before this day. in fact she had strived to protect it even when a plot to take her own had once befell her. in the chaos of the usurping she had killed in defense. but in that moment she had killed as justice. she had killed as the queen they'd need her to become.

she'd nearly fallen off apo soon after, consciousness lost in the dampness of flight and apo's voice spoken into ben's mind to hold her before she slipped. much of the following hours had been cold and chaotic, any pursuers lost to the depths of the sea and darkness of the night. they nearly crash through the raised wards of the kingdom of eldenvale. sir poe had made it. he'd warned them. they'd prepared. soldiers meet them with prince jayson pushing past to meet her as she's passed down off the dragon. unspoken words passed between the last remaining children of a dead king and queen. chaos ensues when her uncle commands sir benjamin detained, untrusting of anyone so near to his niece and nephew when reports came of trusted friends having been turned against the royal family. the princess that would be queen can barely stand, though she rages immediately. authority in her voice that causes pause to even the warrior king-uncle before her. they let sir ben remain with her, escorted to rooms and only the carefully spoken words of her queen-aunt causing lyliana to allow healers into the rooms. they use their magicks to close their wounds and restore their skin though the fatigue and blood loss is not so simply remedied. that would take time.

the princess, like ben, argues the moment sir ben leaving the chambers is suggested by members of court though how she has the energy to have such powerful conviction in her upset is a wonder. they concede to her because they have to. the realms are in chaos but the high king and queen are dead. this girl may be exhausted and in turmoil yet she had become their queen the moment her dragon had made landfall. they call her 'her grace' in respect and in mourning, as a symbol of what was to come in the wake of what was transpiring around them yet the title is lost to her because she's beginning to fall apart again the moment the door closes. the moment the world and reality begin to enclose around her again. the moment she can't be strong as ben had commanded of her anymore. she doesn't remember anything after that. she doesn't remember the exhaustion consuming her or how she'd been laid in the bed. she doesn't remember refusing to let go of her hold on him either.

time passes, hours, as others in the castle move about directed by her uncle and aunt. prepare for war. prepare to protect the castle should myra send others upon them. they do not bother the chambers lyliana and ben occupy, not yet though the small trails of colors begin to play in the skies. it's early, extremely early when she awakens with a strangled scream upon her lips, her surging upward in the bed in horror as if she's back in the moment. her breath is labored, eyes searching wildly until they settle on sir ben. thankfully no one has heard her, no one but him and she knows as her light hues meet his that it wasn't a dream though she wishes it all had been some horrid nightmare. it had all happened. it was all real and the weight of that is gut-wrenching. "they're all dead, ben. she killed them. she killed them all and i want her dead!"

#honorhearted #okay this got like super longer than i intended and most of it is all like just saying what happened in the time inbetween #so you totally dont have to match length #i will say though that my muse for her has returned tenfold which might be why this ended up so long #muse; lyliana carvahali #v; meet me on the battlefield

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