#cause idk which route we'll drag them through bUT HEYO

[heiwanoryu-archive]

Tu ne peux jamais être remplacé.

For @noircisaint Warnings: Death, blood. Word count: 2,110

The day was long, the sounds of metal smashing into one another. The sound of magic exploding into the ground, winds rushing past people. Trees being forced to cave and fall as they were bombarded by the battle. It was near the end. The end of it all. Corrin called out shots, an eight-foot tall dragon standing where a young woman stood. Beside her, her retainers. Including Jeanne, one she had asked to become her retainer before leaving. Things just, didn't feel right without the blonde by her side. Claws dug at the ground as she hurled a large breath attack at the foes that dared to try and take aim at her. How long the battle waged for was unknown. Humans were quite stubborn. Day grew into the early dusk as all of them continued to fight on. Corrin tried to limit the deaths as much as she could, shouting out a reminder halfway through. As her army began to spread out, Jeanne always remained by her side. She knew the other retainers could handle themselves. They were trained to, the very least. Their liege counted on their services like no other. With even that in mind, blind spots were still something they all had to keep in mind. One critical blind spot of Corrin's was her back. Even with the enhancements she held, she was still an open target from her six. An enemy took note of this, judging how Corrin and Jeanne continuously moved in a sort of semi-circle pattern.

The dragon roared, sending hot water towards another gang. It began to show how tired she was -- how all of them were. There was no time to rest! Not until they backed down, or retreated! They had to hold their ground! She could feel the effects of degeneration ebbing at her skin. At her heart that beckoned for her to change back. Jeanne looked over at Corrin, a slight frown forming on her face. What a terrible thing... The longer she stayed like that, the more she lost her mind. Why was it so? No one knew the answer. Perhaps it is why dragons prefered to stay human. 'Lest that is what the princess came up.

Taking note of Corrin's more exaggerated actions, she fired a ball of dark magic into the next water stream that she spued. A hand rested on the beast's forearm. Confidence calling to her, telling her to change back. To not push herself, for it wasn't worth it, in this form. Corrin gave an audible growl, but did as she was told. 'Twould be a shame if their commander ended up dead, or killing her own men. Benevolence was the connection they held. Was it odd, to see Jeanne kind to another? Considering all the pair had gone through, would it be queer if they did not hold such a tight bond? Taking up her sword and a tome, she stood back-to-back with the spirit. The Yato up, holding the hilt tightly. Black magic swirled around Jeanne as she smirked. Yellow began to swirl with the black. Lightning and Nosferatu? An interesting combination, to say the least. The blast was thrusted out as they closed in. Sapping some of their health to replace what Jeanne had lost, bodies fell, still breathing. It was hard for the spirit to hold back at first. Corrin knew this, so it was why she spoke of it often.

The enemy that was watching them from afar took this chance. There was a slim opening, one which could provide a deadly injury to Corrin's neck, should she not notice the man. He pressed against the ground, charging at the pair as soon as their magic began to dissipate. Smoke clouding their forms. Sword raised as he got closer, it came down hard. The sound of armor cracking and a scream of pain echoed in the cloud.

Did it work...?

As soon as the smoke cleared seconds later, Corrin turned her head to the left. Black stood in the way, the tip of the blade dangerously close to her own stomach. Just a mere inch from her armor. Crimson eyes widened as the scene in front of her unfolded. The man had been impaled by Jeanne's hand, covered in the same black magic from earlier. Blood was dripping from her stomach. Pulling back her hand, the spirit scoffed, and he fell to the earth. Dead. Jeanne could only handle so much restraint. If someone dared to touch HER young princess, hell would be paid. The princess took a step backwards to take a look over the scene. Her elder sister’s cry for her younger sister’s safety, noticing the attacker, along with some of her other siblings, could be heard over the shallow clatter. Trying to stand, at this point, was but futile. Major organs had been hit. How on earth did the spirit hold such a form...? Dark magic was the answer behind that, but trying to explain it would be a waste of breath. The form wavered, knees slamming into the ground as pain wracked her body. The blonde fell beside her, holding her mentor and protector close.

"Jeanne, hold on!" Her head tilted up towards her sisters. "Hurry, please!" You could easily tell the waiving of her emotions 'pon those two words. She was already starting to feel the fear of losing her. Right here within her embrace. Jeanne closed her eyes for a moment, not wanting to see Corrin's face. Pathetic? --- no. Emotions were vexing for all, but she was already dead. Technically. Why weep for one whom shouldn't be walking with the living? Corrin tilted her head back down, panic filling her eyes, along with water. Jeanne began to talk, to tell Corrin not to cry. Ah, would she listen? No. She's seen the young girl, no, woman, cry enough during the past decade and a half. Reaching a hand up, she tried to brush off her wound as if it was nothing but a flesh wound.

"Do not say that! It is not 'nothing'! You are seriously injured, and--!"

"Corrin. It’s too late."

"No it is not!"

"You're as stubborn as ever." Did she really have that much of an impact on the dragon? Resting her hand against Corrin's cheek, another gloved hand quickly rose to hold it. Pushing magic through the connection, Corrin tried to heal what she could. She didn't care if she would overexert herself. She couldn't lose her! She couldn't! It wasn't her time!! Jeanne knew it was. She knew that the Gods of this realm were calling, trying to put the restless soul to rest. Corrin, however, was the rope that kept trying to tug her back down.

Death was unkind, and it was terrifying.

Dusk began to fill the daylight's sky. Tears that could not be held back by her own will fell. The sound of footsteps rushed over to the pair's side. Putting her own life force through the connect, Jeanne suddenly spoke up and tried to pull her hand back.

"What are you doing? You're going to kill yourself if you continue that!" She scolded, glaring up at her. "Do you think that it'll help them if you’re dead?!" She gestures to the army getting closer. Her younger sister was the first to arrive, jumping off her horse and moving to the other side. Gentle eyes examined the wound, and a frowned occurred. Holding her staff tightly, small, white pieces of magic began to flutter up.

"Please, please do something! We cannot--!" To hear Corrin beg HURT.

"Corrin. It's already too late." She repeated.

"It is not too late! We can still do something!"

"Enough."

"Pl--"

"Enough." Her heart was breaking into pieces by this point. Why was Jeanne so calm? In truth, she wasn't. She was scared. She didn't want to leave, either, but what could be done? You can't stop this sort of process. Spirits worked differently in this realm, compared to, say, another. When a spirit finally came to rest -- forced or not -- after living an 'extended life', that was it. Reality began to sink in further, when the light got brighter. Her elder brother pulled the youngest away.

"W-- What's going on?" She asked, shaky from emotions running on high. No one answered. No one COULD answer. Corrin's tears fell harder as she suddenly pulled Jeanne into a tight embrace, still holding her hand. Jeanne tensed for a moment from pain, but sighed against her ear and began to pat her head. Surprisingly, she returned the embrace a split second after a few pats were given.

The light intensified more and more each moment. She pulled away, still being held up by another. The familiar cold of death lingered in her body. The paralyzing feeling that danced within muscles, nerves -- even her own blood. She pushed a smile to her face to try and calm the princess.

"You've done very well, Corrin. I couldn't be any more proud of you." She chuckled softly, brushing her fingers against her cheek. A large hiccup echoed from her throat, the feeling of tears coming to her. Huh... Never did she expect this to happen. Tears... Was the reality finally settling in for Jeanne? That she couldn't see Corrin's smile ever again? That she couldn't be there to teach her new magicks, or help her out in battle? Unable to see her continue to grow and to help her out in certain situations? Unable to go out on outings and explore together, like they had the first night she was allowed out of the fortress? Trying to hold back her sadness, Jeanne pressed her hand closer to Corrin's face. The warmth of her cheek the only warmth she could feel.

"You need to live. You need to press on. Everyone is counting on you. I won't be far." Her voice began to grow softer. Gods, goodbyes were never her thing. "Thank you, Corrin. ... Hah.... Goodbyes were never my specialty. Remember all tat I have taught you, and remember to be yourself. I ..."

‘I love you.‘ But those words were never said.

"J-Jeanne, I--- We can still do something! Why isn't anyone helping?!" Sharply turning her head, she could see the look on everyone's faces as well. Her youngers were hiding their faces in some way or another. Her elders looked down, stern but sad, soft looks clear on their faces. Her heart dropped more, as if it was being forced into the ground by bare hands. Returning her gaze, Jeanne's eyes started to drift shut.

"Jeanne? Jeanne, w-wait! Jeanne?!"

Dust began to be picked up into the wind. As Jeanne’s eyes finally shut, tears began to fall.  The last image in her mind was of when they first met, and Corrin’s first smile. Both as a child, and an adult. The only things being left behind were the sword that had impaled her and her cape. A heartbreaking, deafening, voice-cracking, terrifying scream then bounced off the ground as Corrin clutched the cape close to her chest.

“JEANNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!“

Silence. Silence that was broken by the sounds of a woman crying. Wailing as emotions couldn't be held back behind the mask of a commander. Jakob walked over and knelt down, one hand resting on her back, trying to comfort her. Not moving her head, her body leaned towards him. The mood had become dour. Though the battle was won, they had lost someone important. Someone that Corrin also adored with her heart. No amount of comfort could help her in this moment. Not wanting to move from her spot, she could feel hands trying to pry her up. They needed to get back to the plane as soon as possible. They needed some sort of safety to tend to the wounded and to recalibrate their forces. She knew she was acting like a child. Even as coaxing words soon came, it took more pressure for her legs to finally uncurl and rise.

Somber steps followed her men. Felicia stayed close, Flora behind her. Jakob wouldn't let go of her arm, worried that if he did, she could curl back into a ball. Everyone else kept an eye out as one of the royals opened a portal.

Corrin...

Corrin, don't destroy yourself over this...

"I will avenge you." She muttered, slowly putting on the cape. Hugging it close to herself, a new wave of determination came through, the tears not stopping.

"I will avenge you with my bare hands. You... You cannot be replaced." Right after those words were spoken, the portal closed. What would happen next..?

‘....Corrin...”

#noircisaint #☾♔☽ Wᴀɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇ! Wʜᴇʀᴇ ᴅɪᴅ ᴛʜᴇ Oᴜᴛʀᴇᴀʟᴍs ʟᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ?! ( Unknown Verse ) #cause idk which route we'll drag them through bUT HEYO #☾♔☽ A ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ I'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴏʟᴅ ғᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ ( Drabble ) #Ilu Deus <3 #If this will become canon between our babs idk -- but if it does #I will c r y. #Tw: Blood #Tw: Death