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ncfan-1 · 7 months

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Had a moment yesterday when I was outlining a chapter in To the Limits of Your Choice and Ingrid was listening to Linhardt talking about how he doesn’t want to inherit his family’s lands and titles, and she’s kind of repelled by it because she knows he’s an only child and she thinks of it purely as him choosing his own wants over the good of his family (and to an extent it is, and Ingrid isn’t yet in the head space where she can see that that is, to an extent, a good thing, can’t see that a person has to prioritize their own personal good at some point), but it brings into stark relief the perceived selfishness of her own desire to become a knight, for that will mean not abiding by her father’s wish for her to marry a wealthy man and saving her family from financial ruin, and she can see her own selfishness reflected in his eyes and she really doesn’t like it, and wow, that is so enlightening about how I had been envisioning their dynamic.

I had already imagined Linhardt and Ingrid as two extremes learning to meet each other in the middle. They both start out the fic completely unbalanced: Ingrid practically killing herself in the name of trying to personally better herself while struggling to accept that the same dreams she’s practically killing herself to be capable of achieving are unattainable because of her duty to her family; Linhardt wanting nothing more than a life in which he fulfills his own desires without having to care about the way it impacts upon other people (There are other, fic-specific reasons, for why he doesn’t want to inherit the family title, but I’m leaving that for people to find out in the fic itself). One tries to completely ignore her own personal good in the name of fulfilling her duties to others, no matter how miserable it makes her. The other prioritizes his own personal good to the point of becoming detrimental to those who would rely on him, and tries his best to stifle the occasional stab of guilt this provokes.

And then in Part 2, we have Ingrid’s wavering between her duty to her family and her desire to be a knight and not a marriage pawn, with her duty to her family feeling like a pair of shackles when her father has fallen in her consideration considerably as a result of the events of her paralogue, but shackles she isn’t quite capable of shaking off, not yet; it still feels so selfish to reject the one route her father feels certain will save their family from financial ruin, still feels so selfish to refuse to give herself up in order to keep them all from starving.

But she’s starting to see that there were other options for her father to pursue, and that he didn’t pursue them, he simply latched onto the idea of marrying her off to the highest bidder, and she’s had some of the scales pulled from her eyes, and even if he is by the standard set for fathers of noble girls in Fódlan not a bad father, not by any means, Ingrid can no longer force herself to believe that her father would not make a decision that was not in the service of her own good but was in the service of the family’s good, can no longer force herself to believe that her good and the family’s good are one and the same in her father’s eyes, not after she and her classmates and Byleth uncovered her would-be suitor’s misdeeds so easily that her father could have found it pretty easily himself, if he hadn’t been blinded by visions of dollar signs (Uhh, so to speak). But she still loves her father, even if she’s lost a lot of faith in and respect for him, and she doesn’t want her family as a whole to suffer. She knows what she wants, and it’s getting harder and harder to find reasons to tell herself that she shouldn’t just reach out and try to take it, when it seems like the only way to ensure that she isn’t forced to live like a broodmare until she dies. But she still loves her family, and she doesn’t want them to suffer, so there’s still that guilt.

Linhardt has decidedly mixed feelings about his family, his father in particular, thanks to that thing I mentioned above, which will be expanded on in the fic itself. He can’t say that he has a great deal of respect for his father, and he still doesn’t particularly want to inherit his family’s lands or titles, doesn’t want the hassle that comes with it, but he does love his parents, and he has chosen to side against them in the war, and since this is Azure Moon and Azure Moon at a point when Dimitri is still in the middle of his personal Black Swordsman Arc, Linhardt can’t convince himself that Dimitri wouldn’t just kill them if he actually did manage to get all the way to Enbarr, just the same as he would probably put the whole city to the sword if he thought it would get him to Edelgard more quickly. So, yeah: guilt.

And more than that, Linhardt has grown to appreciate wanting to better the lives of his loved ones. He wants to use Crest research to better their lives, and even would like to just do what it takes in general to make the world a better place for them, regardless of how much work it might pose. But he’s so daunted by the specter of the work, so daunted by the task that seems so great that he can’t see how he would ever be able to see it through, that he’s become paralyzed, and hovers in indecision. And as for Crest research, he’s seen Remire, seen what was done there, and is so fearful of what someone could do with his research if they wanted to bend it towards violent ends that he can’t even bring himself to begin that, either, not in earnest. He’s so wrapped up in his fears of what could go wrong that he can’t make a decision either way.

Ingrid is pushing stubbornly along towards an uncertain conclusion, racing down the path without being certain where the path leads. Linhardt is standing still, perfectly aware that it will do him no good, but too fearful of the bad that could come of it to try to seek the good. Both are bogged down in their uncertainty, torn between two impulses, even if they’re dealing with it in a different way. They can see it in each other’s eyes.

But Ingrid has always thought that Linhardt should value more highly the work that can be done to better the world, and Linhardt has always thought that Ingrid should take more care for her own well-being and not work herself into exhaustion. As the fic wears on, they get along better, and become friends, and care for one another deeply, and it is by this, by the recognition of themselves in the other’s eyes, that they are able to edge away from the extremes they began the fic at, and meet each other in the middle.

And then we get to the post-game content.

Ingrid has chosen firmly to pursue the path of a knight, and has permanently estranged herself from her family as a result, her family who had expected her to follow the conventional path of a noblewoman with a Crest, just as Fódlan at large expected it from her. She’s broken the unspoken social contract that exists between fathers and daughters, and even though her father could be argued to have broken it first by not properly vetting one of her suitors and nearly setting herself up for a horrible future as a result, the consequence is that she has broken from her family, and even though she’s a war hero, even though she has acclaim as one of the king’s knights, the bridges between her and them are burned, and while her friends understand and defend her choice, those at court are just as likely to look upon her askance as a disobedient daughter as they are to admire her as a knight.

Ingrid has shed the chains of familial duty, but now it’s Linhardt who has been shackled in her place. He lives at court, and would have formally renounced his inheritance if he could have, but Dimitri won’t have it: he needs as many reliably loyal people among the present and future lords of the former Empire as possible, and if Linhardt renounces his inheritance, his parents will have to look further afield for an heir, and their choice might be a man less inclined to remain loyal to their new overlord. He is more confident in pursuing a path that makes the world a better place for his loved ones, even if the amount of work it takes still grates on him, but he, too, has grown estranged from his parents. His bid to renounce his inheritance failed, but they still know he did it: his mother struggled for years to become pregnant, and feels as though her struggle to bring a child into the world is being thrown back in her face, and it just stings his father’s pride on general principle. But even this is fraught, for both of his parents are well aware that Linhardt’s having chosen the winning side probably played no small part in his father having survived the fall of Edelgard’s government, retaining their family’s nobility, and being allowed to (largely) retain the power in the governance of that part of Fódlan that he had enjoyed before Adrestia was absorbed into the Kingdom. It’s not simple, not simple at all.

A lot of times, I think of Azure Moon in terms of “You fought for the status quo and won, and now you get to live with the consequences of that.” But here, it’s also a matter of Ingrid and Linhardt learning how to live happily when there are no perfect solutions for their problems, of finding the moderate path together, and all that can spring up from it. Now, they see reflected in the other’s eyes their own hopes and their own lingering guilt, the future they look to grasp and the past they cannot entirely shake off, and as they love these parts of themselves, they have come to love each other. If guilt cannot be escaped entirely, it can at least be reduced to something that it’s possible to live with. An extreme of thought does not have to be discarded entirely if it can be moderated, if it can be tempered into something that doesn’t harm the one who bears it. And love can be a balm for guilt, and a cure for extremes of thought.

#To the Limits of Your Choice #ncfan's writing process #Fire Emblem Three Houses #Fe16 #Ingrid Brandl Galatea #Linhardt von Hevring #Linhardt x Ingrid

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bouwrites · 11 months

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Those Warm and Halcyon Days: Chapter 45

The Gautier Canal

Ao3.

First, Previous, Next.

Story under read-more.

Despite Dorothea being a general in the resistance, and more than a few old Black Eagles from other classes supporting them as well, the Black Eagle classroom, with its Adrestian colors and regalia hanging everywhere, is understandably left to disrepair. Perhaps they can find a purpose for the room, but they have more than enough space without it, and with Edelgard’s war on everyone’s minds, most people tend to avoid the place.

Veery sometimes sees Dorothea standing outside, watching the door with an utterly unreadable expression on her face, but otherwise people seem to treat the room as if it’s haunted, and give it as wide a berth as they reasonably can. Even Veery has yet to go inside since coming back to Garreg Mach. No one uses the room, so he has no reason to. It might be a decent place to find some quiet and alone time, now that he thinks about it, but the Blue Lion classroom isn’t exactly bustling either and that doesn’t hold so many memories of friends turned enemies.

Which is why it surprises Veery when he follows Caub’s scent to the door.

Unlike the classrooms for the Golden Deer and the Blue Lions, the red banners marking the Black Eagle classroom are taken down. Personally, Veery thinks the bleak brick wall so starkly contrasted with the other classroom banners is much worse than simply leaving the banners up, but… he also doesn’t equate the Black Eagles with the Empire in the same way that many people here do.

Veery stands outside the door and hesitates because he expects to see red on the side of his vision, but instead there is only the pale stone. Veery thinks that, if it is his choice, he would leave the banners up. He would not allow people to forget that the Adrestians, the Eagles, and most importantly, Edelgard, is one of them. Garreg Mach brings up many people in its time, and just because Edelgard is tearing Fódlan apart now, that does not mean that Garreg Mach wasn’t also her home once, too.

Taking down the banners… Veery sighs, shaking his head. It’s just sad, because it’s another reminder that the moment someone does something out of line, they’re ostracized and othered. Edelgard does need to be dealt with, but they should not forget that she comes from the same group as Claude, that she studied under Professor Byleth just like the other heroes of this resistance.

People refuse to acknowledge their capacity to harm, and so they hide away all reminders. They run and hide up a tree rather than put in the effort to change themselves. It’s disappointing.

But Veery can’t say that he doesn’t understand.

Regardless, Veery needs to collect Caub. They’re leaving soon. He opens the door and slips quietly inside, unsure what he’ll find there or what Caub’s interest in the place is.

Gods… the desks, the fireplace… it’s all just as it was before. The only major differences are the stuffiness of the air, the dust, and the boxes and piled up red banners. This is where Veery learns Faith magic – and arguably where he learns faith, period. Veery used to nap by that fireplace, he remembers laying out Bernadetta, after she faints in terror while hiding under her desk. He remembers Linhardt conducting all his odd experiments, and Caspar always roughhousing with no mind paid to the furniture.

He can see the marks of his old friends. Scratches in the desks, a discoloration in the carpet from when Bernadetta panicked and bumped into Linhardt, making him drop some solution, it’s obviously been cleaned – Veery thinks the Eagles do it themselves before they leave – but some marks don’t come out so easily.

And here stands Caub, frowning down at one of the Eagles’ banners still hanging on the back wall. It seems like this has become a sort of storage space for all the Eagle regalia around the monastery, so it makes sense that no one bothers to take them down.

“I’ve been thinking,” Caub says, startling Veery. Veery sighs and stands with him, taking Caub’s hand in his before following Caub’s gaze to the black eagle adorning the wall. “In old Albinean poetry, we detail a method of… well, ritual execution. I’m fairly certain it’s just fiction and wasn’t ever actually used, but I’m also sure that there are those cruel enough to do it, even if they were only copying the stories, rather than inspiring them.”

So… not a light conversation, then. Not that Veery expects that when he walks into the Black Eagle classroom. “Execution?” Veery asks.

Caub hums grimly. “I’ve only seen it described once, which is part of why I don’t believe it was ever a regular thing, but… you cut open their back, sever the ribs from the spine to open up space, and then pull their lungs out of the holes made. Spread them apart, like wings. It’s… gruesome.”

He can say that again. Just imagining it sends a chill down Veery’s spine. It’s so… unnecessary. Veery has no problem with gore, but he can’t understand why anyone would make such a show of it. Death isn’t a joke to be laughed at, nor anything to take pleasure in. Death isn’t a statement. It’s just the end. If ever execution is deemed necessary, there is absolutely no excuse in not making the death a quick one.

“The poems refer to it as the blood eagle.” Caub says, finally tearing his eyes away from the banner. “I just… it was on my mind.”

Veery eyes the black eagle proudly emblazoned on the banner of red. “…I can see why.”

“…Veery…” Caub’s voice is uncharacteristically small, sounding almost like a plea. “Do you remember when I would go sailing? You weren’t usually around when we set off to… but when you were, I always felt bad leaving you behind when you came all the way to town for me.”

“I remember,” Veery says. “I never minded. I like being on the move, so heading down to the coast and back to the mountain is a nice trip.”

Caub nods, smiling ever so slightly. “I’m sure you already know, but those were raids. Us Albineans… Albinea doesn’t provide a lot. You know that. So, we set sail and raid other countries. Bring back the spoils. Sreng, mostly, because it’s so close, but also Faerghus. I… When I think about Edelgard’s reasons for starting this war, and the suffering she’s causing… I can’t claim to be any better.” He sighs. “As Edelgard destroys Faerghus, I helped pillage them.”

That’s… a very good point. It must be hard, when those people he raids are now the very same ones he’s trying to protect. The ones the people who make the decisions here are actively deliberating exactly how much they’re going to bother helping. “Faerghus isn’t in a good spot,” Veery admits. Even so. “So? Do you think that makes you a bad person?”

Caub hesitates for a moment, then shakes his head, letting out the smallest of chuckles. “No, that’s not what this is about. Not exactly. Honestly… I’m not entirely sure what this is about. I just… I’ve never seen a battlefield like we were on just a couple days ago. I’ve never seen death on that scale. You tried to warn me, but… I don’t think anything can prepare someone for real war.” Caub squeezes Veery’s hand tightly. “The worst part is that I know that’s nothing compared to what will come. I can’t believe that was considered a small skirmish, in the grand scheme of things. Are there really just that many Fódlanders? I’m pretty sure we killed more people than live in my village.”

Ah. Yeah. Veery knows that feeling very well. “Imagine how I felt,” he says drily. “The first battle of Garreg Mach was… by far the worst.”

Caub hums. “Every time we kill, we affect more than just the person who meets our axes. Or… claws. Every time I raided Faerghus, I left people homeless, starving… maybe orphaned. And this war does the same thing. I’m worried. I’m scared. Veery…” Caub sighs heavily, then turns to Veery to meet his eyes seriously. “I hear what people say about me. About you, and Hoarvug, and Sadi, but… also about me. And they’re right. I’m a raider. I’ve hurt people, hurt Fódlanders. On a smaller scale, I’ve hurt people just as bad as Edelgard is right now. And they hate me for it. They think us northerners are violent savages. I… can’t say they’re wrong to think that about me.”

Veery knows what Caub is talking about. He knows intimately how people’s tongues wag, and how the prejudices they hold fester and spread.

“I think I understand you better now. I can see the appeal of… untangling the thread of my fate. When I think of all the people I’ve hurt, who are hurting already and only getting worse… I can see the appeal of just not affecting people. To worry about myself without my actions rippling, dealing with the rewards or punishments all on my own, without dragging anyone else into it with me.”

“It’s simpler,” Veery says. Even as he speaks, his mind is on the smoldering corpse of Randolph. Veery wonders how Caspar will feel when he hears, if he hasn’t already, and Veery feels sick to his stomach. He doesn’t want to hurt Caspar, but he kills Caspar’s uncle regardless, for reasons that have almost nothing to do with Caspar himself. Yet still it feels so personal. “It’s easy to understand, when it’s only you.”

Caub laughs mutedly. “I imagine so. You know… we believe fate is a tapestry. Our lives, single threads. We’re all woven together to make the world. We’re each just a part of a bigger picture. For all our twists and turns, we don’t really see what the tapestry shows us unless we can somehow get an outside perspective. And I’m satisfied with that. I like that we can all come together to make something bigger than ourselves. Even so, I… I just…” He sighs. “This is bigger than I think I was even capable of imagining, and I’m starting to realize that.”

Veery reaches up to cup Caub’s face in his hands. “Are you going to be okay?”

Caub takes a deep breath for a moment, and then nods. “Yeah, I’ll be okay. Don’t worry. My resolve hasn’t wavered at all. It’s just a… bit of a shock.”

Thinking back to Professor Byleth, how she acted back when everyone was shell-shocked from Remire, Veery says, “Caub… it’s okay to be upset. I’m upset. This much death and violence, no matter what you’ve seen before, is a terrible thing. And… I’m here for you. If you’re ever not okay, or even if you are and just want to talk, I’m always going to be here for you. Okay?”

Caub blinks at Veery for a moment, and then Veery finds himself squeezed into a crushing, trembling hug.

“I don’t want to say goodbye. Not again.” Claude holds Veery tightly, unwilling to let go. “I feel like we just reunited.”

Oh, Claude. Veery hugs him back, gently rubbing his back as he does so. He keeps his voice low and gentle as he says into Claude’s ear, “It’ll be okay. Lysithea will keep us safe. And… you’re my brother, remember? Even if we’re saying goodbye now, this isn’t it for us. Count on it, just like you did last time. I came back then, and I’ll do it again. As many times as I have to. Right?”

Claude chuckles. “Using my own words against me, huh? Who taught you to do that?”

“You. Duh.”

“Ha! Of course. Well, as much as I’d like to never let you go, I know that’s a fool’s errand. And Petra needs you. Just be careful, okay? We don’t know how much control Edelgard has over Brigid right now. You may end up fighting essentially another front of the war, and we know you’ll be outnumbered.”

Dorothea giggles. “We have Lysithea, Leonie, and four Albinean berserkers. I guarantee you that whatever force Edelgard has in Brigid doesn’t stand a chance.”

Claude grins but shakes his head. “Still, I’m asking a lot of you guys here. While we go on a fetch quest, you’re taking a skeleton crew to liberate a whole nation. And you don’t even have Teach. I wish I could go with you.”

“You and Teach are both too necessary to the war here,” Lysithea says firmly. “We can’t spare you, even if our task is ostensibly more difficult than yours. You’re needed in Garreg Mach. That’s why you have me.”

“That’s true.” Claude ducks his head. “There’s no one else I’d trust to do this, Lysithea.”

Lysithea nods sagely. “Good. Then, let go of Veery. We need to go.”

Claude, who still has a hold of Veery arms, makes a show of pouting but nonetheless releases Veery from his grip.

And that is how they leave Garreg Mach, with Claude pouting at their backs and a great task ahead of them. And it is a great task. Veery wonders just how this will go. He’s confident in this team’s ability to survive nearly anything that comes their way (especially since this team consists solely of perhaps the most practical survivalists in Garreg Mach) but… they’re going to war in an unfamiliar land. It may not be anything different from what Caub, Sadi, and Hoarvug sign up for, but unfamiliar scenery should not be underestimated.

On the bright side, Petra will be with them, so they do technically have the homeland advantage. It depends on just how long the Empire has occupied Brigid.

They march and discuss the plan. Ultimately, they’re going to have to kick the Empire out of Brigid. The only way Brigid will have the strength to defend itself between them leaving and finishing the war is if they’re in a good position to defend themselves – which means no occupied forts already on the archipelago (the navy is Brigid’s real strength, so they can keep the Imperial fleet out for a while) – and the resistance in Fódlan stirs up enough trouble that Edelgard doesn’t see any advantage in prioritizing taking it back.

If she’s truly devoted to keeping Brigid, Edelgard can easily conquer the place. Luckily, Brigid is removed from the frontlines and the fighting. Another front breaking out is going to be more trouble than it’s worth. Most likely, Edelgard will simply withdraw what naval forces she has to defend Enbarr’s harbor. Though she can reconquer Brigid if she wants to, she will have to pull resources from the other fronts, which the Kingdom and Alliance won’t be allowing her to do.

Or that’s what Lysithea says, anyway, and she knows a lot more about this stuff than Veery does. Veery understands battlefield tactics well enough, but bigger, war-scale tactics? This goes right over his head. His Albinean family may follow him, but there is a reason that Veery is not a commander.

But Lysithea sure does understand it, so they’ll be fine.

They march through Leicester territory uncontested. Aside from economically, the war doesn’t reach this deep into the Alliance on account of Edelgard focusing so heavily on the Kingdom. It’s nice to see that, at least in the smaller, self-sustaining villages, life isn’t overturned for these people because of this war.

It’s a long march, but they have a much longer ride ahead of them. No one complains. It’s nice and brisk out, too, which all the Albineans love but which the Fódlanders complain about. Shamir doesn’t say a word about it, but she does bundle up where Caub and all three cats don’t even bother to roll down their sleeves.

(The fact that they push up their sleeves in the first place in this weather probably says a lot, now that Veery thinks about it, but it’s not that cold.)

But though the march is long and mercifully cold, it does eventually come to an end. When Derdriu comes into view, Veery is equal parts in awe of the aquatic capitol and relieved that this trip doesn’t turn into a bunch of hijinks like his fleecing spree with Anna did.

He can do without another road trip with Anna for the rest of his life, frankly. And if he never has to make another Pallardó, it’ll be too soon.

But Derdriu… wow. Veery likes the ocean. He likes the ocean almost as much as he likes the mountains. Probably the only complaint he has about Garreg Mach as a location (not the residents, or overabundance thereof) is that it’s landlocked.

Seriously, the complete lack of salt in the air is more than a little disquieting, even though the same is true further inland in Albinea. Veery is too accustomed to going back and forth and seeing the ocean fairly regularly, even before he meets Caub and travels specifically to visit him.

Derdriu is massive. Easily the size of Garreg Mach, but probably even bigger. And part of it, which Shamir points out from their vantage point, is on the ocean. It’s floating! Boats connected to each other, smaller boats sailing the channels between the larger ones, under bridges and between buildings. Much of the city is on land, but a whole other part essentially has water for roads!

And it’s so colorful!

“Welcome to the single most multicultural city in Fódlan,” Lysithea says drily as they enter the walls. “We have foreigners on the docks.”

Dorothea snorts. “Well, a glowing review. It sounds almost as if Garreg Mach might have Derdriu beat.”

Lysithea chuckles. “That might be true normally, but with Shamir, Caub, and the agell here with us, we’ve cut down represented nationalities in Garreg Mach by more than half.”

“It is so sad how true that is.” Leonie sighs.

“Really, though,” Lysithea says, “Derdriu is one of the few places in Fódlan where foreigners are… generally accepted. In Garreg Mach, for the most part they’re forced to live like us, but here, no one will call you out for being different so long as you don’t hurt their profit margins.”

Sadi scowls, glaring at a passerby who openly gawks at her ears and tail. “Are you sure about that?” She asks pointedly.

Lysithea awkwardly clears her throat. “Well… mostly, anyway. Caub could blend in. Maybe not you guys. They’d sell to you, if you had money to buy with, and buy from you too if you had things to sell, which is more than I can say for Garreg Mach.”

“Should we be hiding?” Veery asks. “Is it a good idea to let people see us here?”

“So long as no one knows what ship we board, it should be fine,” Lysithea says, waving off his concerns. “Besides, if Edelgard’s spies are around, they’re going to be looking for me, and probably Dorothea, too. Just hiding your ears won’t help much. Now come on, let’s go find our ship.”

“Just like that?” Leonie asks, though she follows just like everyone else. “I hoped we’d have a chance to look around. I don’t get many opportunities to visit Derdriu, and most of us haven’t ever been here before!”

“We have no time to waste,” Shamir says. “Who knows how long we’ll have to stay in Brigid, and the journey isn’t short, either. If our ship is ready, we should set out as soon as possible.”

“I see your point.” Leonie sighs. “I’m not complaining, it’s just a bit of a disappointment that we won’t be able to see the city.”

“On the bright side,” Dorothea says, “I’m sure we’ll all spend plenty of time here with Claude once this war is over. We can do the sightseeing then.”

“And who knows?” Lysithea offers. “Maybe our ship isn’t ready yet. It wasn’t that long ago that they should have gotten in. They may still be loading supplies.”

As it turns out, their ship is totally ready to leave the moment they find it. Plus, the cute, tattooed man who greets them is very antsy, eager to get under way despite everyone only just arriving.

…Is it weird that Veery is starting to find humans cute? Maybe he’s just used to the weird ears and lack of a tail now. Desensitized, more like. But this guy is definitely cute, and not in the baby way either – the way Sylvain calls Veery cute.

Huh. It’s not like Veery doesn’t understand what Sylvain (and others) mean about someone being easy on the eyes. The part he doesn’t understand is the whole ritual around dating and being together; just appreciating attractiveness makes total sense to Veery. Even so, he doesn’t usually look at people like this.

The guy is built a lot like Petra, lithe and quick rather than bulky like Hoarvug or Caub, with the same skin and his own set of tattoos. Prayers, Petra says the tattoos are. To the spirits. Veery remembers Petra showing hers off to him, and him showing her his stripes in return. Veery wonders how many this guy has that aren’t clearly visible… and where.

He’s a little tense, though. Not that Veery can blame him considering the circumstances.

“Hello!” The man waves, eagerly welcoming them aboard. “I am called Kieran. I am being sent…” He trails off, wincing. “Ah… I was…?”

Lysithea smiles gently. “You’re the one Petra sent to guide us to Brigid?”

“Yes!” Kieran grins widely, cheeks slightly red. “Please be accepting my apologies. I am not mastering your language as our princess is.”

“Don’t worry one bit about it, Kieran!” Leonie says, clapping him on the back. “You’re not much worse than Petra was when we went to school together.”

“Church Common is our second language as well,” Caub says. “Or third. Don’t worry about it. We know the struggle.”

“You are having my gratitude.” Kieran says rubbing his neck. “I am practicing, but… I am still making the errors.”

Adorable.

“Ah,” Kieran continues, “we can be sailing as soon as you have readiness. The princess of Brigid is wanting… um… quickness.”

“Of course,” Lysithea says. “We have no important reason to linger. As soon as the captain is ready to set sail, we can go.”

Kieran beams. “Then I will be telling my crew to be going.” Kieran calls over a man who shows them around the ship, and then begins shouting at the loitering crew in Brigid’s language.

It doesn’t take long to leave the harbor. In fact, the crew is so quick about it that it convinces Veery that the agitation he sees in Kieran isn’t just imagined. He wonders how long these people wait there at the docks before Veery and the others arrive in Derdriu.

As much as exploring such a bustling city as Derdriu is enticing – or Veery assumes it is, anyway, for those more inclined not to hide away in solitude their whole lives – Veery gets the sense from Kieran and the crew that they just want to get back to Brigid as quickly as possible.

In theory, the situation shouldn’t be that bad. Edelgard can’t just openly subjugate them – that would only rile them up and force her to spare resources to slaughter a people that, at least five years ago, she legitimately respects. But she does need to maintain a presence, to remind them that she is in charge and that they can’t go supporting her enemies…

Again, Veery isn’t any good with this kind of macro-tactics. But his understanding nonetheless is that Edelgard is at the very least not violent with the people of Brigid. They shouldn’t be in any immediate danger unless Edelgard gets word of the royal family attempting to support the resistance. And, hopefully, by then it’ll be too late to stop it.

Actually, these people come directly from Brigid, don’t they? So, they should have the most up-to-date information on what everyone is in for when they get there. This is the thought that drives Veery to sniff out Kieran at the helm. Sidling up to him, Veery smiles. “Hi. I’m Veery, by the way.”

Kieran eagerly smiles back. “Hello! I must be showing my gratitude for…” All of a sudden, Kieran’s eyes go wide. “Ah, Veery? You are the cat who is saving the life of our princess!”

Veery’s ears flatten back as he frowns. “Is saving? Um… I’m sorry, are you talking about five years ago, or this expedition now?”

Kieran’s cheeks go red. “Uh… before. Our princess is owing you a debt.”

“Oh, ha, it’s fine.” Veery playfully nudges Kieran, hoping to cheer him up from the blunder. “Petra’s my friend. She would have done the same for me.”

Frankly, Veery isn’t sure exactly what Kieran is talking about. He knows Petra is a little protective of him for a while, alongside Leonie, after the Sealed Forest, but he never imagines that she owes him anything. He… doesn’t want her to owe him anything. He’s not interested in debts, especially from royalty. There is way too much obligation tied up in that kind of thing.

Besides, Veery helps her because he can. That’s all there is to it. He certainly tells Caub that enough times. Maybe with hindsight he can acknowledge that his choice in the Sealed Forest is a bit of a stupid decision, but in the moment, he does what he can without thought of what he can’t. Or more precisely, he does what he can in spite of what he believes he can’t.

And honestly? He’s not entirely sure that it is really a decision, anyway, with how Sothis tries so desperately to rip open his heart. Again with the benefit of hindsight, Veery doesn’t think she would allow him to give up without healing every one of Byleth’s precious students afflicted by that poison, anyway. And how much of his determination to push through the pain was him versus Sothis’ desires? It’s impossible to remember. Sharing their hearts and power in such a stressful situation, things are all muddled between who was what at what point throughout all that.

Kieran grins, blushing as he looks away. “The princess is telling of your bravery. She is saying that you are as beautiful as dangerous. I am thinking… that she is telling the truth.”

“Geez.” Veery clears his throat, knowing that his own cheeks must be red. “I’m really nothing special. I just impressed her when we went hunting together, I think.”

Kieran shakes his head insistently. “No. She is saying that you have a spirit of the mountain inside of you.” Oh, Veery is not the one with a spirit inside of him. What will the people of Brigid make of Professor Byleth, he wonders? Although, it is technically true that Sothis inhabits him, however briefly, so maybe the spirit person qualifier isn’t totally off, at least compared to most people.

Veery just giggles. “I’m just a cat trying to make my place in the world.”

“But you are earning the respect of our princess,” Kieran says cheerily. “Both can have truth.”

“Ha. Yeah, I guess they can. What about you? It sounds like you know Petra pretty well.”

Kieran ducks his head a little, obviously bashful. “I am no one special. I am… a sailor with wishes to free Brigid. That is all.”

Veery hums. “If Petra trusts you with something like this, you must be at least as dangerous as I am. And I can plainly see that you’re more beautiful. No wonder she likes you.”

Kieran’s face quickly turns redder than ever as he stumbles through a protest.

Veery snickers, wagging his tail a little as he enjoys how flustered Kieran is. “You know, one of the first things Petra said to me is to tell me how beautiful and deadly I am. It’s nice to know she still appreciates that in her friends.”

“I… would not dare to be calling me her friend,” Kieran mutters after a few more futile attempts to put words together. “I am only a sailor.”

“Hm.” Veery eyes Kieran carefully. “And I’m only a cat. Unless she’s changed a lot, Petra doesn’t care where you come from.”

“You are…” Kieran groans physically covering his face with a hand now. “You are… more than me. Serving her brings me happiness. She is very kind, but I am not asking for her friendship.”

Oh, ew. Serving bringing happiness. Part of Veery wants to press the issue, partly because he doesn’t think that Petra would trust the task of retrieving them all to someone that she is not close enough to to call a friend, but also partly because while he accepts that helping people can bring satisfaction, he stands adamantly against serving anyone. It’s a small difference in practicality, perhaps, but very different in meaning.

Then again, perhaps that is simply a limitation of Kieran’s vocabulary and not the actual connotation he means.

And Veery may be teasing him a little too much. He honestly does not expect as much of a reaction to being told that he’s beautiful, and Kieran only gets more flustered from then on. (Humans are weird.) So, Veery decides not to push. Dedue also insists that he’s not Dimitri’s friend, despite obviously being that, and Veery has to admit that he does not know the relationship between Kieran and Petra nearly as well as he knows Dedue.

…Knew Dedue.

Wow, that hurts.

Veery doesn’t know what to expect from the Gautier Canal. It’s apparently a water passage through Gautier territory, connecting the oceans so that ships don’t need to sail all the way around Sreng just to get to western Fódlan. In fact, the canal is very nearly in Sreng, lying just on the border. Sylvain mentions it sometimes, citing it as a major reason why House Gautier can’t afford to lose any ground to Sreng in the conflict on that border, and likely a major tool in eventually brokering peace between Sreng and Fódlan.

According to Sylvain, with northern Faerghus being as harsh as it is, the Gautier Canal essentially funds the struggle against Sreng. If they could just stop fighting, House Gautier might have a pretty penny to their name, even by noble standards, which really makes it a wonder that Sylvain is among the first Gautiers to aim to broker peace with their neighbors.

It really is too bad that Margrave Gautier is still in power. Veery is certain that Sylvain will do a better job, even if he’s in the minority in that opinion.

Well, perhaps not. Not now, anyway. Having Margrave Gautier here to mind the border while Sylvain fights in the war within Fódlan is, as little as Veery wants to admit it, probably necessary.

But with so much importance placed on the canal, it surprises Veery just how plain it is. Enormous stone walls line a river, and that’s it. In the snow, it’s easy to miss even the walls. Frankly, it’s more astounding to think that this is built by man than the sight is astounding in itself.

They come to a halt before a giant chain, maneuvering closer to the canal wall so that the people manning the gate can board. Kieran, the captain of the ship, and Lysithea, who is leading this mission, both hurry to greet the boarders. Veery himself stays back, chuckling at how everyone present who isn’t Albinean or Faerghan seem to be completely miserable in the snow.

And then Veery spies someone very familiar and rushes over to join them. Sylvain lights up when he sees Veery, grinning widely and throwing his arms out. “Veery! It’s been too long!”

For Sylvain, Veery will never deny him this hug. “I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Veery says. “It’s great to see you again. You look good!”

“Well, when I heard you’d be passing through, how could I possibly stay away?”

Veery snickers. “Good point. I am irresistible.” He rolls his eyes. “Unfortunately.”

Sylvain shakes his head and ruffles Veery’s hair. “I can’t deny that. But it looks like Captain Kieran here is dying in this cold. I’ll, of course, happily grant you passage through, but, uh… Veery, Lysithea, we should talk. Why don’t we go inside where you won’t freeze your pretty faces off?”

Lysithea eyes Sylvain warily. “Yes. We should. Veery, would you mind gathering the others?”

“Of course, not. I’ll be right back.”

Lysithea and Kieran lead Sylvain into the ship, to a private cabin where they can talk about important war things, while Veery quickly sniffs out all of their allies. Most are already on deck, drawn by their journey stopping at this gate, but the few remaining aren’t difficult to find. It’s not actually a very big ship and Veery has a good nose.

With everyone gathered, Lysithea scowls. “Not that it isn’t good to see you, Sylvain, but I wouldn’t expect you to leave the frontlines just to greet us. What happened?”

Sylvain sighs. “Gustave happened.”

“Gustave?” Leonie asks. “Do we know him?”

“You know him as Sir Gilbert,” Sylvain says. “Annette’s father.”

Oh. Veery doesn’t like that guy much. What did he do now? “Is Annette okay?” Veery asks.

Sylvain nods, smiling again. “Yeah, she and Mercedes are together in Itha.” Quickly, his smile falls. “Like most things with Gustave, this has nothing to do with Annette.”

Dorothea grunts with disgust, but when he looks at her, she merely shakes her head and allows Sylvain to continue.

“I’m sure you all know by now what happened to Dimitri, right?” Sylvain eyes everyone, accepting their nods. “Well, Gustave never believed that Dimitri actually died. He’s been searching for him all this time.”

“Why would he think that?” Lysithea asks. “Surely there is no way that Prince Dimitri could escape execution.”

Sylvain tilts his head. “It’s more likely than you’d think. We don’t share a lot of the details, but the execution was private, and no one except Cornelia – who most of us still loyal to the Kingdom believe staged the whole thing – has apparently seen the body. Even Rodrigue was refused when he asked to pay his respects. So, there’s definitely something shady about it, and not just the fact that Dimitri would never have murdered his uncle.”

Lysithea scowls. “I see your point. And what does this mean for today? You don’t mean to say that…”

“That’s right.” Sylvain nods solemnly. “Gustave has apparently found Dimitri.”

“Dimitri is alive?” Lysithea gasps. “Faerghus has its king?”

Sylvain clicks his tongue. “You’d think that. It could change everything if he truly is alive. On the other hand… Gustave tracked him down by following rumors. Imperial platoons attacked without warning. Incident after incident of Imperial generals being slaughtered in Kingdom territory. But the concerning part… that each died in such a brutal, gruesome way that it’s hard to imagine they were killed by human hands.”

Veery snorts. Hard to imagine they were killed by humans, huh? Humans always underestimate their own capacity for horrors.

“Yeah, I know,” Sylvain says, lips quirking oddly as he looks at Veery. “I thought the same thing. Still, we unfortunately have to question just how capable Dimitri is of taking the throne. Mentally, I mean. Most of you saw him towards the end of our time at Garreg Mach, after Edelgard outed herself as the Flame Emperor. If he’s alive, he’s been wallowing for five years. He’s one of my oldest friends, so I hate to say it, but I don’t think he’s going to be the king we need him to be to win this war. If anything, he might hurt our chances.”

Lysithea hums. “Have you reached out to Claude or Teach about this?”

Sylvain shakes his head. “No. We haven’t written any of this down. Felix and Ingrid dropped everything to chase after him as soon as they heard. I might’ve done the same, but with those two gone, I’m needed here more than ever, and… well, I’m not sure what exactly Felix hopes to get from finding him, but I’m not optimistic about crowning him like Ingrid is. I just have to trust them to figure it out, and do my part here with Annette, Mercedes, and Ashe.”

He sighs heavily. “Honestly, I should still be in Fraldarius with Rodrigue. But someone had to come let you guys know. I know it’ll be some time before you’re done in Brigid and go back to Claude, but who knows if I’ll have the chance to come here to tell you on your return trip?”

“I understand,” Lysithea says. “Thank you for letting us know.”

“What else can you tell us about His Highness?” Shamir asks. “Location, rumors, anything.”

“If the rumors Gustave is following truly is him, then he’s been ransacking the Dukedom for years now. Most recently, there have been incidents in Sacre Gwenhwyvar, Gideon, the Tailean Plains, and Charon. Because of that, it looks like he’s moving east. Felix and the others are heading down to Galatea territory to look for him.”

“East?” Lysithea taps her chin. “If he does truly keep heading east, could he pass through Ailell?”

“I doubt it,” Sylvian says. “From the reports, though he’s moving around a lot, he hasn’t left Faerghus in five years. Unless he sees some kind of opportunity, I don’t think he’ll go as far as the border with the Alliance. Unless Ingrid finds him and drags him there, he’s not going to meet up with your army.”

“Hm. Good. While it’s still uncertain what kind of mental state he’s in, I’d prefer he stay away from the common soldiers.”

“Good to know,” Shamir says. “We’ll relay this information to the leaders of the resistance as soon as we return to Garreg Mach.”

“I appreciate that.”

#write #fanfiction #FE Fanfiction #Fire Emblem Three Houses #fe3h

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mommymooze · 3 years

Text

Lack of Vision

Reader x Black Eagles

The smell of ancient vellum, leather, ink, paper and polished wood fills your nose before you enter the room. Some of the students have begun to clear out having finished the bookwork assigned by their professors. You prefer the library to be nearly void of others, their whispered conversations disturbing your concentration and you can feel their eyes upon you as they watch you reading and looking for the proper materials for class. You come from a well-respected family in the Empire, not a noble, however your family works with them and high level healers and mages.

None of that matters here at Garreg Mach. Teenagers are cruel creatures, judging everyone by their superficial standards. The more aesthetically appealing, the higher the regard given to the student. You are nearly invisible to most of the students, nothing of importance about you. There are thick eyeglasses on your face that warps your appearance into something strange and difficult to look at. You attract no attention, nor do you draw attention to yourself. The only person that notices you for any reason is Hubert. He took interest in you for a short period of time to confirm that you are no danger to his Lady, once cleared he ignores you like the rest.

The Professor is extremely hesitant to allow you to accompany the group into any battle. Your primary focus is Faith magic and healing, however you do cast reason spells. Targeting enemies at a distance is, extremely difficult for you. As far as healing, Linhardt keeps his fellow students alive long enough for the group to make it back to the monastery, Dorothea being his backup. When the student is brought back to the infirmary, that is where your magic becomes the most useful. Your healing skills quickly rival Manuela. Not being distracted by sparring, fighting and traipsing around the campus flirting, fighting or pranking like most of the students, you immerse yourself completely into your studies.

You constantly write home requesting additional and more advanced healing tomes and books about magical theory. Even Professor Hanneman is jealous of some of the people you correspond with regularly, discussing points of rune manipulation and theory. Professor Byleth is surprised that you pass the Gremory test before the ball. You would be upset if you had not passed, perfecting your magic skill is your obsession.

Eyeglasses are the worst in every weather. They fog in winter, get drippy with spring rain. Summer they slip and slide from sweat. Fall it is back to rain. At the academy, there is just enough space between the buildings that your glasses quickly get acclimated to the cooler temperature outside, then as soon as you step inside, they fog up immediately, rendering them useless. Useless for you means near blindness. You can tell that things moving around are other people. There is no depth perception, stairs are terrifying. As soon as you make your way inside a building you seek a wall to put your back against as you wait for the fog to clear.

Once Ferdinand had found you just inside the building containing the library. He grabbed your hand and started to drag you to the stairs. You had to stop and explain to him why you were so intimidated and refused to go with him.

He should offer his arm so that you can hold on and if anything bothers you or you do not feel comfortable you could let go and keep your balance and composure. He then starts to march forward at his normal pace, which is great if you are tall and long legged such as he is, however your height is more in the category of Edelgard’s and you would have to nearly run to keep up with him.

“Pretend you are carrying a teacup filled to the brim with hot tea. How quickly would you move with that in your hand? Do you want to spill it all over yourself and possibly burn your hand?” You ask.

“Goodness no!” Ferdinand responds. “What a terrible waste of tea!” Ferdinand thusly takes his time and you arrive at the library unscathed.

Time passes, Emperor Edelgard declares war. You join her side without hesitation. The church is indeed corrupt. The noble system is useless and only sustains power to those that should never have been entrusted to it in the first place. The Emperor also announces the Black Eagle Strike Force. Not long after this announcement you approach her, Hubert always alongside of his liege.

You reach forward placing a handful of necklaces with a Black Eagle medallion on them. “I wish to distribute these to the members of the Strike Force with your permission.”

Hubert immediately notices that the necklaces are enchanted. “What is this?” He demands an answer.

“As you know, my sight distance is limited. This will expand my abilities greatly. Should someone undergo severe injuries or become surrounded by enemies I can remove them from the situation or cast physic on them. It does not have to be visible on their person, they can wear it under their armor.” You answer.

“How do you know one from another?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Once everyone has worn them for a few days I will be able to tell the difference, who has which necklace and once in battle I will have no issue identifying the correct person to assist.”

“Hmmm.” Hubert is hesitant to agree.

“I think it is a wonderful idea. We have a long difficult road ahead of us. If it provides the opportunity to save an ally, I cannot see how this would be an issue.” Emperor Edelgard smiles.

Leaving a necklace for the two on the table, you seek out the remainder of the Strike Force handing them their necklaces, giving them instructions to try to wear it at all times, always wearing it during a battle. You then find Linhardt and discuss the intricacies of the spell with him. He is quite impressed, not impressed enough with needing to learn anything further, lest it cause him more missed naps.

Unfortunately, you are not able to give Professor Byleth theirs before the attack on Garreg Mach.

Without being amid the battle itself, you greatly aid your allies. Two clerics with minor healing skills and perfect eyes describe the battle as it unfolds. They both speak at the same time describing everything they see. You have been training them for weeks. They keep you appraised of nearly everyone on the battlefield. You cast physic and fortify on several allies, healing them, allowing them to keep fighting. Nobody must be rescued as a result, however it is always an option.

The weary warriors return to camp, the injured head to the infirmary. Once you heal all wounded there, you quietly make your way around camp. Stopping at the entrance to a tent you announce yourself.

“You are injured. Let me attend you.” You whisper to the canvas entrance flap.

“I have seen too much blood today. Let me sleep.” Linhardt moans.

You enter the tent, shuffling forward until you touch his cot. “You’ll sleep better if you are healed. Assist me if you want this completed quickly. Fight if you want this to take longer.”

“Very well.” The sleepy man turns on his side, tugging at his robes to show his right leg and the gash in his calf.

You need little light to work, most of what you do is by touch. Cleansing the wound, folding and refolding the cloth to have the clean portion removing the debris and dried blood. Healing the wound, finally rubbing the scar with light soft touches of magic until nothing is left but smooth and slightly pink skin.

You leave, heading for the next tent. It is easy to tell who is injured. Sometimes the smell of blood alerts you. Whimpers of pain, cursing, stuttered breathing, all of them involuntary tells that they are hiding their wounds. No amount of chastising them has worked thus far. You must seek them out and find them before they fall face first in the dirt, fevers burning because of infection that quickly settles in their neglected wounds.

You can tell this tent belongs to Ferdinand. He makes the smallest high pitched squeak when he moves an injured muscle the wrong way.

“Ferdie, I’m coming in.” You give him ten seconds before you enter.

“S-Sorry. I should’ve…” The redhead begins to apologize.

“Shh. Guide me to the worst first.” You instruct him. You’ve been through this many times before. You recall back at the monastery you would drag him back to the infirmary after returning from battles. He would then invite you to tea and tell you about everything that happened. He would frequently let slip about a few people that had been hurt, and those you had not seen in the infirmary would be sought out later.

His hip had a deep gouge in it from the point of a sharp lance. You wonder how me made it back to the tent with something that deep, the blood had dripped all down his leg. You cleanse it, pouring some healing potion in to soften the burn as you prepare him for the alcohol to follow, flushing out the debris and who knows what that was on the enemy lance tip. Finally, you heal the wound closed now that you are certain it will not become infected. He tells you the next injury is to his shoulder.

Completing your treatment of each and every one of his wounds you get back on your feet. “Tell me what you find in the morning. The worst infections can come from the smallest cuts.”

“I know, thank you.” He calls out to the darkness of his tent.

You know whose tent is next. You stand outside, pausing. “Don’t blast me into next week. I must do what is necessary.” You announce before entering.

“Your concern is unnecessary.” He fumes.

“You prefer necrosis?” You sass.

“To be looked after –ugh.” Hubert groans.

“Better than dead. I’m going to be here a while, aren’t I?” You kneel in front of his cot, smelling blood everywhere. You know he has a high threshold for pain but this man is ridiculous. He is a human pincushion filled with so many holes he should be classified as swiss cheese.

You begin by placing him under a magically induced sleep. This slows his heart rate, making him bleed out slower. Lighting several candles in the room you need to pick apart this man, healing every possible wound new or old, removing all signs of infection.

He cares so little for himself it is a miracle that he can remain standing on his own feet most days. Tweezers and a scalpel assist you with removing four pieces of shrapnel from his back. Two fractured ribs are also healed. His legs are battered by the fallout of spells attacking him. He can deflect them from his head and torso, however he is so tall that his legs still feel some of the impact of magic and what it carries with it. One last scan for any further untreated injuries makes you sigh in relief. You pull back on the sleep spell a bit. He remains asleep, allowing him to rest, however he should not be so deep in sleep as to not be able to be rustled awake.

Sitting on the ground in front of his cot, you rest and meditate until morning. You will not leave him unprotected. Once he begins to rustle several hours later, you stand and face the exit to the tent.

“I would ask if I missed anything, but you will never tell me if I did.” You state matter-of-factly.

“Thank you.” He mutters softly.

You nod and leave.

Camp is broken down. Everything is packed into wagons or on the back of horses. Enbarr is the next destination. Back to the capital to plan.

Most of the fights for the next few years are smaller skirmishes. The larger battles are much fewer and further between. However, this current battle is quite serious. The Empire has had control over the bridge at Myrddin since the Emperor declared war. There is word of kingdom forces approaching, threatening the bridge and surrounding territory. The entire Strike Force is called together to interfere with the invasion.

You have the bridge map memorized. The strategic meetings provide you with the locations of where everyone is to be deployed and defending their area. Your assistants inform you of the fighting and position changes as the battle unfolds. They update you as the enemy moves forward beginning their attacks. Suddenly the watcher to the right is quickly rambling, upset and excited.

“What! Tell me what is going on!” You order, having no idea what is happening due to their rambling.

“They are swarming, trying to get past Caspar and Ferdinand, many are getting through and overwhelming Hubert. He’s moving back but…”

Immediately you cast Physic at Hubert then Caspar.

“I can’t see Hubert there are so many around him!” the observer is shaking moving left to right to see.

You cannot let him fall. You cast warp and appear standing alongside his fallen body. There are a few surprised utterances by the soldiers, however they are quickly gathering their wits about them. They are not as fast as you are, you throw a series of spells. The first is your Thoron. You cannot see well enough to cast it as a normal Thoron, your modified version is closer to clusters of ball lightning emitting from around you, arcing out in a rotating pattern. You lean over Hubert, who is still alive from what you can feel. The soldiers swarming him are very very much at risk and feeling your wrath. Their bodies jolt and shake with the electricity. Just as the spell ends you cast recover on Hubert.

“Muh…more coming!” The dark mage blurts out, casting Mire at the closest one.

You call upon the hellfire from within you, casting your own special Ragnarock. The smell is horrific as all flesh in a huge circle around you is incinerated in the heat of the flames that extends around you for a 30 foot radius.

“What next?” You ask the dark mage on the ground beneath you.

“You were successful.” Hubert says as he takes your hand to assist him in getting back onto his feet.

Hubert begins to walk briskly towards the next sign of melee. You grab his elbow and are dragged along.

“Are you certain you wish to do this?” The dark mage asks.

“I’ve made it so far.” You counter, scared and excited at the same time as you are headed for the center of the battlefield.

There are a lot more sounds around you than normal. Spells going off, horses rushing in at the direction of their riders, the clashing of metal against metal. You keep turning your head at every sound. You hear the sound of boots coming closer, you cannot clearly make out a face, but the colors donned by the fighter are of the enemy, so you cast a normal Thoron spell at him. Hubert calls out and you direct your attention to him.

“Heal Ferdinand!” He orders.

You lock on the cavalier and cast Physic. A hearty Yes! is heard not too far away as you continue to be aware of your immediate surroundings.

Hubert dashes away from you, headed further toward the center of battle. You know better than to run into the thickest part of things where your clear vision extends not more than six feet ahead of you. A green coated figure comes close and you grab onto the arm of Linhardt as he walks past.

“Everyone good?” You ask as he is dragging you along with him.

“So far. I am glad this is almost over. I am so exhausted.” He groans.

You listen as the noise dies down, the sounds of spells being cast has ended. The voices are calling out more organizational orders than directing the forces to attack. Linhardt takes you to the area where they have set up camp, pointing you into the direction of the infirmary tent before he gets close enough to be dragged inside. A healer outside notices you and hauls you in, you are needed to put a few soldiers back together. Much later, as you emerge from the tent you are grabbed and warped away.

“Sit.” You are pushed backward until your calves hit a surface for you to sit upon. He stands in front of you, arms crossed.

“I know. It is a risk I had to take. You are too stubborn and so am I.” You confess before you are asked a question.

“Do you have any idea what-“ Hubert’s voice is full of venom and anger.

“Yes, I do. More than you. I did not join this war to do anything halfway.” You calmly answer. You know his bark is worse than his bite. And if he wanted to harm you, he would kill you first and ask questions later.

The dark mage turns to step away, then spins around to face you again. “And what of after the war?”

“I have no vision of what is beyond anything that I can see right now. I have bound myself to you through a blood oath that you did not participate in, so that I could help you live through this war.” You respond, quiet and rational. “You are not committed to me and owe me nothing. I knew you would not wear the necklace. I did what is necessary to keep you alive. We cannot win this without you. It is not like I will ever have a suitor clamoring at my door.”

Hubert is furious. You knew he would be. Based on ancient customs and rituals in several countries, one of them Brigid you created the spell. There is an exchange of blood between wedded parties, mixing their blood so the two could ‘become one’. However further research into the matter reveals that as a part of one’s self being with the other could be extremely useful, especially relating to magic spells to locate the other and/or to assist them.

The moment you warped to Hubert’s side, he knew what had occurred. You knew he would treat it as a betrayal of his trust in you, however this being a ‘one way’ blood passing would not bind him to you in any way. A complete exchange blood oath on his part would sever this one sided oath and cause a magical backlash to yourself. Since you had initiated this blood oath, you cannot perform this with another.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “What is done is done. Leave.” He orders.

The tents and supplies are packed away again, the long convoy is back on the road. The anniversary of the millennium festival approaches quickly. The weather has turned quite miserable, raining day and night. The roads are getting sloppier every day. Riding in the back of the supply wagon is dangerous for you, but you feel it is worse it is worse as you cannot tell where you are stepping. Just as someone announces they can see Garreg Mach in the distance, the wagon you are riding in flips onto its side due to the deep ruts in the roadway and shifting of the cargo. You are buried under multiple boxes and cargo from the wagon.

When you awaken you are dry and clean and lying on a cot in the infirmary of the academy. You sit up in the bed and recall what happened. Your left arm is wrapped up to your shoulder. You feel a bump on your head. What you don’t feel, is your glasses.

“Cleric?” You call out. You know someone was in the room with you, you had heard them with papers.

“Oh! You are awake. I will fetch Manuela.” You hear her footsteps getting further and further away down the hall.

Manuela arrives and explains the situation. Your left arm will have to be in a sling for a few days. Your glasses were crushed under the wagon. A message was written and sent today requesting a replacement pair, nothing we can do for that in the meantime. She fits you with a sling and at your insistence you walk from the infirmary down to the first floor. Alone.

You were able to slowly make it to the end of the corridor that led to a courtyard. From there you only have to cross the courtyard, find the stairs down and then the dorms in order to get to your room. Piece of cake you think to yourself. You know the layout of the monastery, where the obvious dangers are. It’s just the minor details that you can’t see. If someone leaves items out where they don’t belong or an item is in an unusual spot, that could be a problem for you.

The open courtyard is intimidating, people can come at you from all angles, and they do. You do not get run over, but you get spooked when a large something crosses your vision suddenly. You feel better when you get to the area that has bushes all along one side. You stay close to the bushes, keeping out of the way of the faster people.

Now is the dangerous part. The stone walkway in front of you, and the stairs that go down to the dorms. You must choose embarrassment or death. You choose to not die today. Sitting on the ground you scooch your behind closer and closer to where you think the edge of this level is until your feet reach the end of the stone covered walkway. You scoot until your lower legs are over the wall and feet are hanging. From here you scoot right until your feet touch the stairs leading down.

Whew. Now you can stand on the steps, hold on with your hands on the level above as you cautiously descend down the stairs. One step at a time. Your hands are now flat on the wall above the stairs. One last step and there’s no further steps. You made it! Nobody saw you or if they did they said nothing and you lived!

Cautiously you walk across the small courtyard until you knock into the porches of the dorms. You grab a post, sit on the porch, spin your legs and then stand up next to the post. No stairs, no problem you think.

You are at the last room, that belongs to Byleth. You knock.

“Come in.” Is pleasantly called from the inside.

“Byleth, can you give me a hand and get me to my room. I’ve been released by Manuela.” You request.

The former Professor walks past you, stopping so you can take her elbow. “I am happy that you are out already and didn’t have any serious injuries. Your eyeglasses were smashed beyond fixing. Are you going to be okay getting around on your own? She inquires.

“I can make it here and there. I have problems with stairs, anything that is left out of place, cats and dogs being on the paths. I perhaps should get a walking stick to help with balance. I can see a little, everything is just very very blurry. While you may see a barrel, its edges, the lines of the wood, the metal band holding it together, I see a brown almost oval blob. I can judge by the size of the blob if I am close enough to bump into it.

Byleth leads you out the door, pausing at the stairs, then through the courtyard to the next set of stairs, finally over to your room that is next to Bernadetta’s. Thanking her you go through your room, arranging your clothes and belongings. You are always quite organized in your room. Everything must be in its place or you can’t find it. You go to your desk drawer and pull out your magnifying glass. If you have plenty of light you can just make out a few letters in a row on a written page. So you can read, but it’s going to give you eye strain. You decide that maybe it’s time to do some handiwork. Heading out the door you walk to your neighbor and knock on hers.

“Bernie, can we talk a minute?” You ask pleasantly.

Bernadetta cracks her door open then shuts it quickly. “Who is it!”

“Bernie, it’s me. I don’t have my glasses, so I guess I must look different?” you question as you answer her.

“Oh! You do look much different without your glasses on.” The purple haired woman opens the door, now recognizing you, she lets you inside leading you to a chair by her desk.

“I heard they were broken when the wagon tipped over. How are you doing? I bet Bernie can help you some.” She smiles.

“Oh Bernie, that would be wonderful if you can walk with me sometimes. I don’t want to be a burden on anyone. I know you don’t like getting out much, but I do need to get to the dining hall. Honestly, the stairs scare me a lot!” You confess.

“Oh! I think they would be scary to someone that can’t see them. I will help you. Just let me know, okay?” Bernadetta offers.

“You have perfect vision, I trust you so much Bernie. Oh! I came over because I have a request. Since I can’t read much right now, I thought I would knit. Can I borrow a couple pair of needles you’re not using right now?” You request.

“Sure! I have quite a few different sizes, so you have a few to choose from.” The woman dashes to a drawer to grab her needles.

You are sitting on a bench outside the greenhouse knitting, a small rectangle grows longer below the needles.

Without turning you call out, “Hey Ferdinand, are you busy?”

“I did not see you there. You are looking quite well. Are you getting along all right? May I be of assistance in any way?” He happily answers, being the noblest of nobles, he must offer his assistance to all that could possibly require it.

“If you would have some time to escort me to the market briefly in the next few days, I would like to purchase some yarn.” You request.

Ferdinand bows low, “Of course, I would be most happy to assist. I do have somewhere I have to be, however I will return for you before dinner. I will then escort you to your room to store your purchase, and then take you to the dining hall as well. It is my duty to help all in need of aid. Please do let me know if there is anything else that I can assist you with.” He smiles brightly, you know because you can hear it in his voice. If a smile was ever loud, it would be his.

Time passes and Ferdinand returns to greet you again. “I am yours to command.” He says bowing before you.

“If you could please take me to the market and find the one selling wool and other knitting materials.” You say grabbing his elbow as he leads you past the pond.

“How are you getting along without your glasses? I see you are keeping busy.” He asks as you slowly stroll.

“I am doing fine. It’s not like I’ve suddenly lost my vision altogether. I simply cannot see clearly at the moment. The finer details are not visible. A basket of apples is varying shades of red in a brown circle. Grass is simply mottled green with no individual blades. Stairs do not show their depth, the ground does not reveal its pitch. If small thin items are on the footpath I cannot see them. Reading is difficult without a magnifying glass, and that gets tiresome after a while. I could not see very far away before, so nothing has changed there.” You reflect.

“Here we are.” Ferdinand brings you forward to the cart.

“Sir,” you ask the proprietor, “Have you any lambs wool or perhaps Angora?”

The man hands you two skeins of wool, one being a bit softer than the next. You feel some of the wool that he has on display. These two skeins are softer, but not by much, certainly not Angora wool.

“I have a project in mind for the Emperor you see…” You don’t care much for name dropping, however in this case, it is the absolute truth.

“Oh.” The merchant gasps. “I think this may be more in line with what you are looking for.” He takes the other two balls of yarn and replaces it with a different one.

This skein feels very silky and soft. There are long, soft hairs mixed in with the wool, which is much closer to the feel of the yarn you desire. “This is more like what I will need.” You answer. Haggling the price a bit you make your purchase. You also buy 8 other skeins of wool in different colors. And several pairs of knitting needles.

The merchant packages your goods and hands them to Ferdinand.

“Anything else?” the noble asks as he walks you back towards the dining hall.

“Thank you so much, it went much faster than me wandering from cart to cart, trying to identify what the merchant is selling.”

The next week you take your shifts in the infirmary, go to meetings and knit in your spare time. Bernadetta attends the meetings regularly, since she must escort you.

Guardian Moon is extremely cold to those from Enbarr. People from the Kingdom would probably walk about in their shirtsleeves. You invite Emperor Edelgard to tea in your room this day and she accepts.

You bustle about your room, gathering everything necessary for a lovely tea. The bergamot is steeping, smelling wonderful as she knocks.

“Please come in, Lady Edelgard.” You answer.

“You are as bad as Hubert! Just Edelgard, please!” She laughs.

“Please help yourself.” You offer sweet pastries with a delicious cinnamon crumble on top.

You fuss with the tea, removing the leaves now that the brew is complete. You pour for the both of you and offer sugar cubes or honey.

There is a knock on the door, “Package!” is called out in a male voice.

You are so excited you nearly knock over the tea table. You dive to the door and take the box from the delivery person, throwing coins at them and slamming the door.

You return to the table and hand it to Edelgard.

“Please open it for me. My new glasses!” You are beside yourself with excitement.

She laughs as she is handed the package and quickly removes the wrapping. Sliding the lid of the box open, she hands the box to you.

Your hands shake a little as you reach inside, taking the glasses in hand at the edge of the lenses, flipping the temples out, you slide them onto your face. You will have to adjust things a bit for the fit, but they feel like home.

“Well, how are they?” Edelgard excitedly asks.

“Perfect! You look even more beautiful than I remember you!” You grin widely, so happy to be able to see her clearly again.

“It is a shame that you have to wear them.” Edelgard comments. “They really distort your eyes. Perhaps some day they can create some type of magic to correct your eyesight.”

“Thankfully, I am not vain. I choose being ugly and able to see rather than be blind and pretty. As Dorothea says, beauty is only skin deep. It is the true beauty of the person inside that counts.”

“So true.” Edelgard nods.

You stand and scuttle over to a dresser. “I have something for you!” Reaching inside you remove a long red fluffy scarf. “It is getting colder outside, my hands need to keep busy. I made a scarf for everyone on the Strike Force.” You announce, handing her the scarf.

Edelgard takes it in hand and wraps it around her neck. “Oh my! This is the softest thing I have ever felt! It is so warm! I can feel my neck is warmer already!” She exclaims, then stands to give you a warm soft hug.

“We certainly need to keep warm through the next few battles.” You nod.

“Your perseverance is your strongest attribute.” Edelgard commends you. “We need people with that on our side. To engage the obstacles head on, finding new and different ways to get around them. I admire your strength in continuing to do your best, no matter what adversity is thrown your way. Knowing you makes me a stronger person.”

#fe3h #fe16 #fire emblem three houses #fe3h x reader #black eagles #fe16 x reader

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riddlelikesstuff · 3 years

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hello!!!!!!! adding to my growing list of fe3h ocs, and i finally have an oc for each house, which is lovely :) as always, info is under the cut! thank you for reading my stuff!!! :D

also just a note about them, i noticed that the wolves’ classes are Forbidden Classes from i think awakening?? that didn’t make it into three houses, so i’m making aurum a dread fighter >:) muahahaha

Aurum / Quinn Foster

Pronouns: They/He

Birthday: 5th of the Wyvern Moon (October 5th)

Age: 18-19 (23-24 post timeskip)

Initial Info:

Starting House: Ashen Wolves

Starting Class: Commoner

Starting Closest Allies: Yuri and Hapi

Combat Details:

Strengths: Swords, Axes, Faith, Reason, budding talent in Riding

Weaknesses: Lances, Armor, Flying

Personal Ability: Illusory Magic - Foes within 2 spaces suffer Hit/Avo -10 during combat.

Supports:

Yuri A*

Balthus A*

Constance A*

Hapi A*

Hubert B+

Linhardt A*

Bernadetta B

Dedue B+

Ashe B+

Claude A*

Lysithea A*

Marianne B+

Hilda B+

Seteth B

Alois B+

Jeritza B+

*all their A support endings are platonic, they’re aroace. :)

Other Info:

Interests: Magic studies, learning new things

Likes: Spending time with friends, studying, shiny things

Dislikes: Reflective surfaces, being stared at, loud noises, bandits

Lost Items: Foreign tome, Scorched quilt piece, Green gemstone

Background Info:

Originally from the city of Morfis, they were the child of a couple of traders who worked in Fódlan.

One day their caravan was attacked by bandits, and they were left orphaned and wounded to roam around.

They happened to collapse near Abyss, where Yuri found them on the verge of death and nursed them back to health.

Since then they have lived in Abyss, but under a pseudonym and with an altered appearance to hide their Morfis heritage.

They wield powerful illusion magic taught to most people from Morfis at a young age, which allows them to change the way others perceive their appearance and the appearance of other people and objects. The people of Morfis fear their magic being used for bad purposes, so they disguise themselves to hide.

However, the magic only effects others’ view of them, so when they’re in front of reflective surfaces, it reveals their true appearance. They tend to avoid mirrors and puddles.

They stay with Yuri in hopes of repaying their debt to him and finding their way home!

Personality:

They tend to be very skittish and jumpy, and have a very sheepish and mellow personality. They always act a little guilty.

Love to help out, and they always repay their debts, no matter how tall. They still feel an incredible debt to Yuri, so they’re especially sheepish around him.

They’re pretty shy, but they tend to get attached to friends once they make them. They miss their family and are trying to form a new one for themselves.

Quinn has a passion for experimenting with unique kinds of magic, trying to figure out what they can accomplish away from home.

They don’t really know how to do things for themselves without being asked. Self care is important but they’re not really familiar with the concept, and tend to work to the point of burnout a lot.

Their personality is the truest part about them! They’re not putting on an act, they’re just an anxious and mild-mannered person. :)

#fe3h ocs #quinn foster #babe wake up new oc tag dropped #riddle's fe3h kids

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themoomoorn · 3 years

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Random Thot #46,853

I had a health exam for my upcoming new job and put my two weeks in for my current one, so I’m rewarding my neurodivergent ass-brain with this. Sit tight and enjoy.

46,853: I’m half-convinced that Edelgard is like the Soul Series’ Alexandra sisters and daughter when it comes to her combat ability - or rather, lack thereof. Unlike Claude, Dimitri, and Byleth, who all explicitly received combat training as children, Edelgard likely did not. The tools given to her are what likely allow for her to fight at all - heck, they may even do a bit of the fighting for her. How else can a noodle-armed womanlet like her wear all that armor and heft that axe?

(Also, how the eff does this dress make clanking armor sounds when she walks in the game despite this dress having like no armor whatsoever)

To begin with, we have in-game factoids of her stat caps being the second highest in the game (390 when combined, with Cyril only beating her by 5 points due to his Aptitude skill), and she even has a magic cap that’s not only on-par with other magically-inclined units (72), but it’s actually better than some of them (Dorothea and Linhardt, who are both dedicated mage types, have caps of 61 and 66, respectively, while Manuela, who tends to get placed in Faith Magic-aligned classes despite being a hybrid unit, has a piddling cap 48). She even has a quirky but feasible spell list for both magic types (Fire/Bolganone/Luna Lambda/Hades Omega for Reason, and Heal/Nosferatu/Recover/Seraphim for Faith, which is one of her banes, mind you). I imagine this is the work of the experiments that gave her her version of the Crest of Flames - after all, the 2020 DREAM interview noted that the Hresvelg children were given a more “refined” version of the experiments the Ordelias had. The refinement isn’t just reflected in-game with caps and magic too; Edelgard is also more robust in terms of health, whereas Lysithea is prone to bouts of weakness and illness. In-game, she has poor Luck and Strength, and the single lowest HP cap of all the playable units at 48. And while this one is admittedly conjecture, Edelgard doesn’t hint that her lifespan was drastically cut, as she gets to live a long life in all of her endings. Even in her Crest-heavy ending with Hanneman or her healthcare-related ending with Manuela don’t mention that she had one or both of her Crests taken out. Lysithea, on the other hand, is extensively motivated by the fact that she doesn’t have many years left, and it’s only in two endings (Lorenz, Balthus) where she’s able to live fairly long without removing her Crests; The rest either have her dying young or being able to live long only after her Crests are taken out.

Now what of her combat abilities? Let’s turn to the source of where this silly thot came from.

For the uninitiated, Sophitia Alexandra, a fighter who’s been in the Soul Franchise since its very first game, did not grow up as a dedicated combatant like the other fighters - she was an ordinary baker living in Athens during the late 16th Century when Greece was part of the Ottoman Empire. When she was bathing in a lake one day, she received a message from Hephaestus himself in that she has a divine destiny to destroy the cursed blade Soul Edge, and he gifts her with a divinely crafted short sword and shield in order to fulfill her mission. While she does gain training in Athenian combat styles, a lot of her power and capabilities are tied to her weapon set, which are named the Omega Sword and Elk Shield. Her younger sister Cassandra would follow suit in SoulCalibur II, actually going out of her way to steal the same holy armaments Sophitia used in Soul Edge and SoulCalibur I before getting her own specially empowered set.

(Sophitia Alexandra)

And Pyrrha, Sophitia’s daughter in SoulCalibur V, takes it to new heights. Per a data book, the timid, mistreated Pyrrha has absolutely no combat experience, not even in self-defense. While Sophitia and Cassandra were able to train themselves into formidable soldiers outside of their divine weapons’ influences, this is not true for Pyrrha. If it were not for the sword and shield Pyrrha wielded (which is the same exact set Sophitia wielded before her passing), her clumsy attacks and timid guard stances would amount to ineffectual, useless flailing.

(Info about Pyrrha’s fighting style from the SCV data book)

Back to the Egg. Now it’s made abundantly clear that while Dimitri’s Jean Valjean-levels of raw strength heavily stem from his Crest, he’s also from the land where, in lieu of milk and honey, there’s extreme sports jock training in heavy armor in the dead of night with boulders for weights and weapon mastery. Dimitri loves to train, and it’s a big aspect of his character. The tritagonist of his route is also one of his combat trainers, and he’s done that job for three generations’ worth of Faerghus royalty, with his ending hinting that he keeps doing it for one more. I imagine that even without the Crest of Blaiddyd, Dimitri would still be extremely strong and formidable, he’d just have to actually exert himself a little when saving some poor soul from a runaway cart.

(Just in case the savior imagery wasn’t clear enough with Dimitri, he even did lift a cart the way eventual saint Jean Valjean did in the book/musical)

Claude is far more in favor of covert combat, and his own Crest is more defensive than offensive, but he’s no slouch either, having had a renowned war general serve as his combat instructor since childhood. He’s from a kingdom that, much like Faerghus, values the way of the warrior and prides itself on the strength of its people. His hidden talent, tying to wyvern mastery, is in friggin axes, and he’s also shown to be adept enough with a sword at various points. Plus there’s the fact that he was abused and mistreated by his Almyran family, complete with his father plopping him on a horse and making the horse ride off with him backwards with no safety net as a form of punishment - Claude tells Hilda that there was a “trick” in how he survived that. As any horse jockey can attest to, you need raw muscle in every part of your body in order to really ride one, and I imagine that’s doubly true for your local albino wyvern that’s decked out in Ottoman visual puns. Plus learning how to be crafty and protecting oneself more covertly undoubtedly contributed to his combat abilities too.

(I mean you’d have to be shredded if you can pull off the Parthian shot on a fucking flying dragon. 61 Strength cap my ass.)

Byleth, as we know, grew up as a mercenary to the point of detriment. There’s no need to go into extensive detail as to how Jeralt sacrificed almost everything else in exchange for contributing to Byleth’s combat abilities without being abusive and cruel, but even if you took away Byleth’s self-insert aspects, they’d likely bear a passing resemblance to Rei Ayanami in terms of behavior and attitude - An intended vessel/Avatar for a divine being from one end; Conditioned for little more than combat from another end. Kind of a gloomy picture before she starts to express herself better and actually bond with other people meaningfully.

(At least she’s cute as a button. Kinda like Rei.)

But where does that leave Edelgard? It’s a big question mark. There’s no mention of her growing up with any kind of combat training, unlike the other three. Heck, if tea time, Crimson Flower, and Heroes quotes are anything to go by, Edelgard grew up living a carefree lifestyle prior to the Insurrection. She got to stuff her face with sweets and play with teddy bears and both dote and be doted on by her siblings. Being child number 9 in her current generation, combat training and political studies likely weren’t major priorities for her, and since it’s speculated that Ionius favored her mother, she was likely lavished and spoiled by him. After all, he expresses grief for her specifically when she inherits the throne from him, not the rest of her siblings.

(Even the official merchandise notes how childish Edelgard is)

(This is all after she literally kickstarts her war, by the way).

While there’s varying degrees of elaborate flair that the Lords all wield their weapons with, Edelgard’s regular strikes with an axe feel far less rigid and more informal, and she’ll spin around her axe like it’s some kind of prop. Her default battle stance isn’t even remotely protective and quite impractical; Dimitri’s stance with a lance is both of these things, while Claude’s arrow-twirling is a real-life exercise that’s done to keep the wrist flexible. While she does refine her axe skills come Part II, she’ll still do things like throw her massive shield ten feet in the air for a critical hit.

(Seriously what even is this why is your hand out like that)

There’s even some proof of this: In her study request for axes and heavy armor, Edelgard will even acknowledge that the only reason she can likely keep up and wear heavy armor at all is because of her Crests. And unlike Dimitri and Claude, who can get lesson plans for their respective Hidden Talents once they’re mastered (Horse riding for Dimitri, axes for Claude), Edelgard doesn’t get a lesson plan for Reason Magic, which is her Hidden Talent, so she likely didn’t get any kind of formal education surrounding magic either.

(She has a similar quote in Heroes that’s even more explicit about this.)

The closest hint we get in Edelgard maybe having a hint of training as a child is in her Supports with Ferdinand, and even then, there’s no clear cut hint noting that his failures in beating her were combat-based. She’s able to one-hit KO him in their B Support, but it’s locked to Part II and at this point she’s been both riding on the power highs of her Crests along with actually taking combat seriously. She even says that their difference in skill level isn’t that great.

(Should’ve used Swift Strikes, Ferdie)

What’s more, in addition to all of those enhancements, she not only spends a lot of Part I in a custom set of armor that only archaic technology from the Agarthans can make, but they also made her a custom Relic that’s tailor-made to her specifications. The other Relics as well as the Sacred Weapons, being over a thousand years old, still require their wielders to train in order to wield them properly, and in the case of the Relics, their potential cannot be fully tapped into unless the wielder’s Crest matches the Relic they’re wielding. There’s also that particular safety issue, per what happens with Sylvain’s brother Miklan. But this is not the case with Aymr, which is brand new, has a mismatched Crest that doesn’t negatively affect Edelgard, and requires the Agarthan tech-compatible Agarthium to fix, not the Umbral Steel that’s used to fix both the Heroes’ Relics and other Crest Stone weapons like the Vajra-Mushti. The Aymr’s specific Combat Art even emulates the oft-broken Galeforce skill from Awakening and Fates. It feels like that Aymr in particular is the Edelgard what Hephaestus’ swords and shields are to the Alexandra family.

Now I don’t really think that an Edelgard who’d be stripped of her Crest of Flames, the Amyr, or her special Flame Emperor armor, would be as hapless as Pyrrha would be without her mother’s sword and shield. I imagine she likely started to do some kind of formal combat training once the experiments were done with, not just to kickstart her dreams of imperial conquest, but also to protect herself anyway after everything that happened; She’s also the only Hresvelg heiress of her generation left. There’s also her natural Minor Crest of Seiros to consider. But if you stripped all that away from her, then her ability to fight probably would come off as useless flailing to the other three more experienced combatants.

All those cakes and that lack of muscle would at least catch up to her, anyway.

#fe3h #fe3h meta #fire emblem three houses #edelgard von hresvelg #edelgard critical #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #claude von riegan #byleth eisner #headcanons #ramblings #soulcalibur #this literally popped into my head one day #seriously #edelgard isnt buff you cant change my mind

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onyxedskies · 3 years

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a couple fun tips and facts for/from FE3H that many people probably already know:

when making sylvain a dark knight, teach him faith. he can learn (and use) physic.

marianne is best as a holy knight.

linhardt is effective as a dancer.

dedue doesn’t take damage from physical weapons, and when he does it’s only minimal.

ingrid is not strong against armored units, but she is not majorly harmed by magic.

felix can learn reason and bow and be effective with both.

ferdinand and lysitheas paralogue battle may seem underwhelming or annoying but you get the lance of zoltan from it.

the chest nearest to byleth at shambala has the bow of zoltan.

completing dedues paralogue in the first part of azure moon allows for his return at the great bridge of myrddin.

assigning adjutants raises support levels.

edelgard and bernadetta have an ending.

#fe3h #fe3h various #fe3h tips #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses

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kendrixtermina · 4 years

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Cindered shadows Reaction

tl;dr - Fodlan is a crapsack world and I want to strangle Rhea (or break Amyr on her again). Yuri is a very good contrast to the others and a cool addition to the ‘verse for all that he is basically Joker XD

I took live notes while playing

One thing to take note of here is the house leader’s “canonical” classes (Fortress Knight/Warrior, Hero/Paladin, Assasin/Wyvern ride, though some of those assume the budding talents to be unlocked already) as well as just more of a look into what their dynamic is when they’re together - as such well-contrasting characters I always thought it was a shame that they didn’t interact more so I’m glad for this

Edelgard is always somewhat standoffish/ closed off and generally the ‘logical’, least personable one, Claude is surface-level friends with both. Dimitri would like to think they are full-on BFF, calls Claude “my friend”, defends him etc. Claude’s friendship with Edelgard is very banter-driven, but there (the bit where she says “wow this trap could have been your idea” and hes flattered). Of course both of these carry over into their post-timeskip interactions especially when they part on good terms (Dimitri always does, and Edelgard easily can part with him on good terms, but Claude, though he doesn’t like the thought of them dying, wouldn’t take risks on either them) - and of course it’s Claude who proposes the feast after the mock battle where they all eat together. Edelgard and Dimitri were never friendly (at least not during the academy), but at this point they’re civil.

Claudes Dialogues are BRILLIANT like he really shines in this one (Edelgard probably gets the least exposure but all of this is set before the reveal, so she has to keep her cards close to her chest - Or maybe there just cant ever be enough Edelgard for me lets be honest)

First impression of the Ashen Wolves is that they’re all very dramatic with a lot of bluster (Hapi being the contrasting exception but over-the-top in concept) - they have really been the Kings of their own little world, having a lot of free reign underground, accountable to few and throwing down for the heck of it

So it’s Yuri Leclerc and he was adopted by a Kingdom noble, the same Gwendal and Lonato served and who dies if Arianrhod is blasted, but it seems like unlike wish Ashe who was taken into the family this was just a temporary gig for him

That makes him a commoner, which by itself is a big difference from the other three. Dimitri is and always was the crown prince whereas Edelgard suddenly ascended the sucession list due to tragedy and Claude has a much doubted claim on both sides of the border

I suspected he was going to be from the kingdom as we already had the Alliance, the Empire and the token Foreigner accounted for - also ‘Yuri’ is a slavic name like ‘Dimitri’ - though being adopted he isn’t necessarily from there

(Later we learn that he was in fact born in a village in the Kingdom)

Also liked the callback to count Gloucester’s sheming and how he had Balthus spy on Claude

They do go through some work to flesh out Abyss and make it feel lived in as a sort of society.

Just look at that very very makeshift classroom. Few down there were getting any sort of education before Aelfric set this up

They do something clever here where Balthus tells you part of why he’s wanted, prompting the question of everyone else’s stories

This idea of a wretched hive beneath the Church reminds me of Amsterdam where the big church was in the prostitutes’ quarter and they actually had flourishing trade agreements going on

But as a hiding place for outcasts it shows us all the uglyness about fodlan and how much persecution/ need for change there really is (Really wants me to play Crimson Flower again. Or Verdant Wind.)

There’s people “chewed up by the Nobility”

Duscurians and Almyrans

Many in the church want the place “purged”, Rhea wouldnt go so far but is at the very least unsympathetic

Tons of Banned Books (is this where Seteth puuts them?) Claude and Linhardt have a field day over it

That poor woman (probably Dagdan since she talks of a war) who was persecuted for believing in other religions (which was a thing under Rhea - I’ve been saying it, Shamir and Cyril are “allowed” because they work for Rhea which to her is the same as believing, both are “working for her family/ for us instead of against us” because Sothis is not just her god but someone she knows personally)

Yuri and his trouble are a sort of quasi-police or keeping order, reporting to Aelfric. As his second in command Yuri is a sort of “prince” and already lead his own bandit troupe, or perhaps more a chieftain than a prince, he’s a leader, an authority but not an inherited one but 100% selfmade, he comes from nothing - People call him “boss”,

One wonders if he already dressed in this noncomforming manner before comming to the abyss

He is very very self-reliant, decides and opines for himself, gives Byleth backtalk, very much a natural leader who owns his influence entirely to that natural-leader ness

Byleth asks very good, very direct questions

Hilda, Linny and Ashe are here because of their connection to the Abyss characters and the information they can provide - Ashe knows Yuri, Linny knows his book lore, Hilda heard rumors from Holst...

Here we get to appreciate why Claude keeps Hilda around she knows all the gossip, all the ‘local’ information that Claude doesn’t have, she’s an excellent info source

Lets appreciate that it was those three specifically because they were slacking off

Ppl say there the church scorns them pretty much I like how they’re no longer even pretending that the church is nice

The four MCs, meanwhile, might all have ended up here in a different life; If El had escaped the experiments she could’ve been like Hapi, Claude was already an outcast, Jeralt fled with Byleth as a refuge(or could have been sent there as a mercenary to torment the locals and then decided to stay there instead), maybe not young!Dimitri, but timesskip Dimitri was outright a vagabond and says in his lecture questions that he travelled many places and temporarily lived in slums he didn’t go full murdery until a few years in, as Gilbert recounts

AU where they all grew up or met in the Abyss is what im saying, and the four MCs and Yuri team up. The slitherers still stir up war, perhaps Duke Aegir or Arundel made themselves Emperor etc.

Characteristically, Dimitri really likes the idea of a secret haven for the outcasts (see all his dialogues about “acceptance” and general ‘help-the-orphans’ thing) - but also characteristically he’s a bit of a tool for the status quo- “Claude don’t be rude this guy is giving out charity~” but the issues Dimtri the issues they shouldn’t need to hide anyways and this is why I prefer the ‘revolutionary’ routes (CF and VW) - though to his credit Dimitri does do charity and stop ppl being poor when he’s king.

Claude is absolutely having a field day, this is right in the way of his “Political program” - “What you’re helping the poor and downtrodden by barely tolerating them in a sunless hole where they have to hope the church doesn’t decide to purge them” They basically live in ever present danger

Bit sad that they had Edelgard “tied up” catching up with Constanze rather than stating a reaction to the abyss as a whole though it’s probably very deliberate that she keeps her cards close to her chest - As constance asks “What is the princess doing here?” - investigating that’s what. She mostly asks questions or voices conclusions - shes certainly also investigating for her own purposes

But of course Dimitri and Ashe, pure as always, immediately want to help the locals

Edelgard meanwhile is thinking strategy, talking of capturing and interrogating the enemy

Of Yuri ppl tell you both that he’s a real scoundrel/ “our scoundrel” - he loooks out for them so they obey him, “when I say jump they jump” - a Mafia leader of sorts. He’s like Claude in the ‘motivating ppl through taking care of their interest’ parts but claude’s alliances are looser and no one does “jump” like Yuri projects authority, its not quite the honor loyalty Dimitri inspired because he “pays”, Edelgard projects authority but it’s loyalty to the cause more than personal loyalty, and she’s an ideologue and inspires the same in her followers theres no “pay” from Edelgard. She warns you that you might die and that’s it. She is the same herself.

I think Yuri would die for another the way that Claude and Edelgard would not, like when Aelfric got his mom putting her in danger was never an option. I don’t think you could pressure Edelgard with a hostage, she’d just be like “Hostage-kun, I won’t let your death be in vain” and then tell their captors to screw themselves.

He has things in common with all the others - he has a certain honor and a people-driven leadership style like Dimitri (rather than ideals-driven like Edelgard, Claude and Seteth) - though unlike Dimitri his honor is only for the “in” group, he cares about protecting his turf, his people... and nothing else. Thus he doesn’t fit into the revolutionary (Edelgard, Claude) vs restorer (Dimitri, Seteth) dichotomy because he’s not concerned with the system as a whole - he doesn’t like it or have faith in it, but he will absolutely work with it when it suits his aims (such as when he makes his own alliance with the church behind Aelfric’s back, or just working with Aelfric in the first place)

This alliance is probably also supposed to give a reason why the Wolves would sttick with the church later (though Hapi’s non CF supports talk alot about reforming the crap institution that it is) even though they mostly have reason to dislike them

Like Edelgard he is calculating and ruthless more than Dimitri or Claude. (He laughts at peeps who fell in his trap) But you couldn’t see Yuri sacrificing an ally like Edelgard does (like with Dimitri the people come before the plan) and Yuri often markedly does NOT tell allies what they’re getting into while El makes a big point of telling everyone the risks and allowing them the chance to step out

In a way he’s Claude with a edge but without the big vision. Yuri is the most small-picture, Claude the most big-picture of the lords

They also have a different relationship with trust - some describe Yuri as “devoted to his own but too trusting” , he says it’s a choice... but he is never really fooled, just pretending to be, he solves a great part of his plot on his own.

Like Claude and Seteth he prefers to play it safe/ know he can win (though Claude and Yuri arent against calculated risks) whereas Edelgard and Dimitri will do what they think is right with no guarantee of victory and don’t care much if it kills them or their followers

Otherwise tho they have a lot in common and are fast friends XD Yuri makes some great observations “Wow look at you three trying to suss out each other’s motivations must be exhausted”

“Doesnt take a title to have an agenda“ - Yuri and Claude are really... a “takes one to know one” situation

Claude tells us they generally get along tho (”Any misunderstanding might spark a war... ”... yeah)

Likewise, Yuri immediately gets that Claude’s friendliness is esentially “maintaining neutrality” more than actual allegiance

Yuri also seems relatively forward in romantic matters which is unlike the others lol

Remember how I was frantic for Claude/Linhardt or Claude/Hubert friendship content? Here’s another great team that ought to have interacted more, I could even see them working romantically assuming that Claude would be so inclined.

Hapi/Sylvain, too! Because they’re both cynics

But despite her cynism Hapi is also characterized as considerate

Yuri likes board games! hes in the board game squad with Hubert, Claude, Sylvain and Edelgard. The Board Game squad is incidentally the Best Characters club

He’s not big picture and only develops something like that toward the end of his support chain (to fight poverty)

So in a sense his style and the hole in it is more like Byleth’s own - he learnt practical leadership in the field and applies it for those he likes. He’s more self-directed

aaand more undercover fun

It seems that both the slitherers and Alferic were after the Chalice at the same time - the Death Knight’s presence hints at it, Metodey’s confirms it. So far I’d assumed he was one of Edelgard’s loyalists like Ladislava but it seems he works directly for Arundel, Edelgard is not too friendly with him and accuses him of “Disrespecting her house”

Since Aegir was in power during the Bridgid and Dagda war, the slitherers could definitely have had something to do with how Constance’s family was treated, if they were onto her secret - I don’t see how Aelfric could have done it

Bold of El to order Jeritza away in broad daylight. At this point she’s probably come to accept that no orders are gonna keep him from Fiting PPl where he can, especially her she is a very tough opponent

I trusted Aelfric until he spoke. The voice is... its not a good guy voice. Same with how the eyes are drawn

then he called people “his flock”

“They are charitable only when it suits them”

“they have eyes and ears everywhere”

Yeah. I’ve always said that Rhea is like one of those millionaires who give their pocket change to charity but then support policies that keep people poor. Hopefully no one will keep arguing that she cares about the poor or the disenfranchised.

“Her grace thinks its a nuisance”- This tells us alot. Alfric had to convince Rhea to give half a rats ass about the poor but still speaks of her with honorifics. That’s the crack in his soul right there

I also love how Yuri protests whenever anyone - the church etc make plans for him, hes very self-governed

Hapi, Lysithea, El and Byleth should have a “victims of human experimentation” support group

Alternatively, Cursed People support group with Hapi, Marianne, Bernadetta and Dimitri

I like the C supports with Byleth and Balthus as well as Hapi because they tell us not just about them but about Byleth - Both adress Byleth’s go-with-the-flow tendencies and lack of own direction, though Byleth makes clear that by this point they actually like the professor gig

“I could see this person just about anywhere”...in a bad way. Oh but Hapi you too can be recruited to all routes XD No she’s right. By-By is being used and she should tell them.

MORE PARENTS LORE I rejoiced so much and this was such a cool thing to adress here

At first it seems that Rhea was also after the chalice but turns out she had written it off and the one pursuing it within the church was Aelfric

But you all do catch the implication that she did this all before and “great tragedy” resulted? Right? You get what that means?

For once she actually noticed a mole though Aelfric likely wasn’t subtle

It results in a zombie dragon because she meant to revive a dragon not a human

By now people should really be used to Rhea handing out legendary treasure to byleth

there are friendly reminders of the western church purge still going on

I like how constance smells a spy right away

Also the contrast between Hapi’s jaded “Lets just give them the thing so they leave us in peace” (Yes, Lapis Lazuli) and Constance’s “We can’t let them have the artifact! theyre bad” - Constance might be shrill but she’s a person of action

The sunlight thing is a tad over the top/unrealistic but it’s not per se the cliched split personality thing, more like going outside brings out the bad memories after hiding away underground for so long (she tells mercedes as much) while she otherwise covers it with bluster. Her parents and older brother were killed and her hometown destroyed, after all. She is still basically talking the same overdramatic/ formal way

Perhaps two sides of nobility like the pride but also the demure good breeding n shit, there is some forced quality to the bluster even indoors

But ultimately she’s pretty hard working and determined underneath

At one point Hilda says something like, “You sure that we should interfere? I don’t want to make anything worse it might be better to stay out” - This right here is why you can’t get CF Hilda

Further Hilda facts: She had countless suitors and knows her way around “magical doo daads” and fortune telling

Having her mildly superstitious is of course a fun contrast to claude

“Compared to you even Hubert looks like a spring chicken” lol

I was going “Linny I love you” the whole time

Speaking of love... The moment I decided I loved Yuri is when I learned why he was expulsed - because the church sent him to kill someone he knew and rather than be upset, or thing how he might change society to prevent it or draw other conclusions from it... He refused on the spot and fough church ppl. That’s when I saw how he fits with the other characters. What the contrast was.

Yuri is one of those rare types who would never give the full voltage in the milgram experiment

Because see? That ties back so well into the themes

One of the main scenes that contrasts the house leaders is their reaction over having to fight Lonato. They all sympathize to a degree, but none acts against it. Claude and Edelgard show their dislike of the church and want to stop crap like this, but right there right then, they play along for the sake of their plans. (Claude’s plan at this point still involves stealing relics)

Dimitri is the closest to Yuri in that he immediately regrets it massively and says they should have found another way (in part because he is against the notion of “sacrifices for the plan”) but this realization comes to him only after all is done because ultimately he follows authority/ sees some good in it and the status quo

Yuri, meanwhile, flat out refused. Yeah he also killed whoever the knight escord was but he refused

Also let this sink in: Yuri was slated for execution because he refused to kill someone he knew. This is what might have happened to Ashe, Sylvain etc. if they had refused to fight Lonato or Miklan.

Aelfric arranged for him to fight someone he knew but that’s all he did, the rest is the result of normal church policy and then begged for pardon (meaning the normal policy would be to kill him) The mission might have gone to a different house, but the church constantly makes ppl fight ppl they know. You realize just how easily all our beloved characters could have ended up just like Yuri?!

I loved how, when offered info about their parents, Byleth immediately seeks it out with no delay

“Never discard a wild hunch lol“ Claude I love you Linhard I love you

Generally we see Dimitri being the local people person and catching onto details about people’s emotions and dispositions , while Edelgard is like, “Investigate this, investigate that” (i love that about her), and Claude is the oddball/curveball and follows his intuition. Yuri goes on instinct, Seteth, if I had to say, on experience perhaps, certainly caution.

So she doesn’t even recognize Dimitri. She did say that “she can’t say the name” so she probably never learned that her little friend was the prince. Can ppl stop acting like she snubbed Dimitri or like she has any reason to treat him like a brother?

I don’t think he pieced it together until the ball, and she only realized either during the parlay (AM) or some time before their final confrontation (She distinctly knows by the time she killed him)

Another poignant moment is when she basically didn’t trst Aelfric and only started considering that he might be good by the time Team Slither showed up. Yeah she’s not trusting and would have zero base assumptions that any church ppl are good

By the time she learns about the Nuvelle crest she’s so done like, “Are there any MORE conspiracies I should be aware of?” And indeed there are

Aelfric is sort of a consequence of Rhea’s coverup certainly not an 1D villain. He started doubting her after the coverup began semi thinking for himself and at first this led him to try and make the abyss less chaotic and speak in their favor before Rhea, but then when Sitri’s body fell into his hands he was just too tempted

And UGH remember when I said that for all that im not a Rhea fan, i don’t thnk the human experimentation was so bad because she didn’t harm anyone and it seems like the homunculi lived out normal lives? yeah i take that back

Even if Sitri wasn’t healthy enough to travel she didn’t need to be completely isolated exept for trusted church peeps

This would have happened to Byleth. You see how this would have happened to Byleth? Completely isolated and controlled?

Oh Jeralt jeralt baby you were so right to flee with Byleth so right

Worse because Rhea was a parental figure

Also she kept creating more homunculi though they turn out frail and basically live miserable lives

and the first attempt with the chalice probably did kill ppl

sitting with the corpse all the time is creepy too

doest that mean Byleth won’t rot either?

So she was a book worm - Jeralt did say she was brainy

It did start as a mentor crush, much like Byleth’s own relationship might

I love how Edelgard is all subtly concerned after Yuris fake attack

I wonder how that apology line was phrased in Japanese, “useless” seems a bit harsh given that Edelgard generally seems to love her father, but there is no denying that he lost control of his empire and that as a result villains wrecked havock all over it so there’s nothing better she can say there excuses wont help constances situation

Like this must be very hard for her

Constance’s support definitely confirms that it was the Seven Families/ ie the PM and Arundel who did this to her (also lol at the concept that she basically wants to make Byleth her very own Hubert or Gilbert)

Edelgard is saddled with all this stuff from the previous administration - I mean so is Dimitri with the instability, the recent anexation of Duscur and part of Sreng... but she gets confronted with it more, iDK if it’s common knowledge who’s really in charge

Because Yuri is concerned with his turf, not the world, it makes sense that “his” route would be the sidestory. I kind of wanted a part 2 in the sense that I like this cast and want more of him as a main character but I also get why there isn’t one... because he wins no matter what. Lucky seven! He’s the one who can’t lose (except if you dont do the sidestory I guess) ”He works with whoever’s in power to maintain his own, just like when he made the deal with Rhea. He gets all three house leaders and Byleth to promise that they will look out for the Abyss so his bases are covered no matter who wins.

- even so he basically solved his own problem and Byleth’s presence just kinda gave him the opportunity . Well, one defining factor is that they trust Byleth exactly because they don’t “seem like a typical church funky

Still since Rhea tells us the backstory here what use is the silver snow ending? I suppose she doesn’t mention the homunculus/ “I created you” bit but the lack of decay and the transplanting heart bits do sort of hint at it

Certainly a contrast tho, like in SS you learn the magicky parts us in CS you get way more about who mommy actually was as a person

Poor, Poor Byleth. This must be such a mindfrick for them. Like I had so many feels for By-By

It’s so weird to go back and have the Yuri & so present throughout the monastery,but not know us yet

#fe3h #cindered shadows #ashen wolves #fire emblem: three houses #fire emblem three houses #three houses

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fodlandancers · 4 years

Text

Dancer Class Advices

Who to avoid

Characters who are not available on a certain route should not partake in the White Heron Cup if you plan to play that particular route. (Duh!) These are as follows:

Flayn on Crimson Flower

Edelgard on Silver Snow

Hubert on Silver Snow

There are also characters who will have to be re-recruited after the time skip and they only appear several chapters in, meaning you can make them your dancer, but you won’t have access to them for 2-4 chapters. These are:

Dedue

Ashe on Silver Snow & Verdant Wind

Lorenz on Silver Snow & Azure Moon

Dedue is a special case. If you did not complete his paralogue during the school phase he will not return to you at all.

Things to consider when choosing a dancer

There are pros and cons to every character but it ultimately comes down to what your average combat situation looks like.

If your dancer is used purely for support and kept out of trouble most of the time their bulk does not matter.

But if you need your dancer to take multiple hits because you throw them into the thick of battle along with your best units you might want to use somebody with decent bulk or avoid. Mind that the dancer class has -5% growth rates in Str, Def and Res.

If your dancer spends a lot of time trying to catch up to the rest of the party, because you have only horses and fliers, using a unit with long range attacks or assists might be a good idea. However, that issue can be avoided by equipping your dancer with a March Ring and giving them the Shoes of the Wind stat booster.

Relevant Skills & Stats

Swords - The dancer class grants bonus experience to Swords, the Sword Avo +20 Skill and the Sword Dance combat art, making them the weapon of choice. Moreover, it’s the only weapon they will make a little dance with after a kill or level up.

Authority - The other skill this class gives an experience bonus to. The lowered growth rates make equipping a strong battalion a good idea. In case you want to equip your dancer with one of the dancer battalions, the Opera Co. Volunteers require a B rank and the Blue Lion Dancers an A rank.

Faith/Reason - Dancers can use magic and if a class can use magic you should consider utilizing it. Some of the utility spells in Faith can give the dancer an opportunity to do something even when they cannot reach an ally in that turn. Physic, first and foremost.

Riding - Upon reaching an A+ in Riding you get the Movement +1 Ability. This is useful to patch up the previously mentioned movement problem in the late game.

Charm - A character needs at least 13 Charm to win the White Heron Cup. Beyond that, a dancer needs Charm for 2 things: avoiding Gambits and Sword Dance. Getting hit by a Gambit means the dancer won’t be able to move, which is something you should avoid at all cost. You get 5 Gambit Avoid for every point of charm you have. The value of Charm increases with difficulty. The damage of Sword Dance scales off of Charm. Don’t fret about this too much, though, since you probably want to dance most of the time anyway.

The Candidates

Flayn - Squishy type (below 40 Spd growth and at least one poor defensive stat). The original “I don’t know what to do with them so I might as well make them a dancer“ character. Has a talent in Faith and a budding talent in Reason. Boosting her movement by leveling Riding will prove difficult since she has a weakness in it. Might need some stat boosters to patch up her middling Spd. But has the highest Res in the game. And a pretty high Charm, too. You could give her a Levin Sword and go Sword Dance on the opponents’ collective assess. Oh, wait, we were supposed to be dancing.

Black Eagles:

Edelgard - Balanced type (40 or above Spd growth with good defenses). Has bonkers stat growths, therefore the -5% to Str/Def/Res don’t hurt her too much. Has talents in Swords, Authority and Reason. Personally, I’m biased against Armored classes due to their bad movement, cruddy Spd and Res, so I’d say her unique endgame class should be changed for something more worthwhile. Dancer is a valid option.

Dorothea - Speedy type (40 or above Spd growth with at least one poor defensive stat). Tailored to be a dancer, with talents in Swords and Magic. Her budding talent gives her White Magic Avo +20 and she learns Physic for that ranged heal in case she can’t dance. Has a weakness in Riding, though.

Ferdinand - Speedy type. Has a talent in Swords. His personal skill gives him Avo +15 at full HP. His talent in Riding can make it easier to get that +1 Movement ability. The ability to use magic is wasted on this guy. But he 11/10 wants the job just so he can do the Sword Dance.

Linhardt - Balanced type. Has a talent for both types of magic and comes with Physic. Not a bad choice in terms of overall stats, except for his horrendous Charm. May be better off as your main healer.

Petra - Speedy type. Oh, boy, is she! Has a talent in Swords. But also a weakness in both types of magic and her stats reflect that, both offensively and defensively. So, that’s wasted potential there.

Hubert - Speedy type. Talent in Reason and Authority. Weakness in Faith. Great Res. Probably your main magic nuke and would likely hate you for making him a dancer.

Bernadetta - Speedy type. Weakness in Swords but a budding talent in Riding, which gives her Pass. Learns Physic (with a 20% Mag growth, PFFFT!). ngl I’d just let her stay in her room and forget about her.

Caspar - Speedy type. Weakness in Magic and Authority. No relevant talents. Cruddy Charm stat. He’s bad but he’s bad at everything else, too. (This is going to be a trend with the “Heavy” of each house.)

Blue Lions:

Dimitri - Speedy type. Has a talent in Swords and Authority but a weakness in Reason (and magic in general). A little more hurt by the negative growths of the class since his Res is already bad. Budding talent in Riding. He might be better off as your main damage dealer, though, because he’s such a beast and the movement of his unique class is at least okay.

Felix - Speedy type. Talent in Swords and a budding talent in Reason (though his Mag growth isn’t all that great), but weak in Authority and his Charm is below average. You’ll likely want to equip him with his Relic, which means you cannot equip him with the March Ring.

Sylvain - Balanced type. Has a budding talent in Reason from which he gets Black Magic Avo +20 (his Mag growth is below average, however). Talent in Riding. Learns Physic. Amazing color scheme. “This is what a real man looks like.“

Ingrid - Balanced type. Has a talent in Swords and Riding and comes with Physic. High Charm. Great pick due to above-average defenses and godly Spd. She doesn’t hit all that hard anyway.

Ashe - Speedy type. No relevant talents. Bad Charm stat. Physic. Looks adorable. You are better off giving him a bow and putting him on a pony.

Annette - Squishy type. Talent in Reason and Authority. Makes an okay dancer in my experience but you should keep her out of harm’s way.

Mercedes - Squishy type. With great Res. Talented in both types of Magic but weakness in Swords. Learns Physic. She’s better off as your healer.

Dedue - Meh type. Weakness in Faith and Riding. Highest Def among all characters but abysmally slow. His Res is horrible and so is his Charm. If you want to make him a dancer then, ironically, this wall of a man will have to stay in the back most of the time so he won’t get picked off by bird men with jazz hands.

Golden Deer:

Claude - Speedy type. Has a talent in Swords and Authority but weakness in Faith. His personal skill gives him Pass. Best personal endgame class! Why would you want him to be anything else? He looks great as a dancer? Fair point. Has a ridiculous Charm stat, second only to Edelgard.

Lorenz - Balanced type. Talent in Reason and Riding. Has the same defenses as Ingrid but trades Luck and Spd for HP and better offenses. i.e. he won’t dodge as often but is pretty durable. Makes up for lack of Charm with excessive tea parties. Gets disowned over losing the dance competition.

Ignatz - Speedy type. Talent in Swords and Authority and budding talent in Reason. Learns Physic. His Charm is pretty bad. I had trouble even promoting the guy.

Lysithea - Speedy type. Has talents in both types of Magic, Authority and a budding talent in Swords. However, her Charm stat reflects her personality. Better off as a magic nuke. I mean, how else are you going to collect those Dark Seals?

Marianne - Speedy type. With great Res. Talented in Swords, Faith and Riding. Comes with Physic. Has a sword Relic. Has good Charm. Not a bad choice but, admittedly, looks 60% better as a Gremory. (That dark blue dress looks so nice!)

Leonie - Speedy type. Talent in Riding and learns Physic. Statwise, very similar to Petra. Her Mag and Res are horrendous. More Charm-ing than people will give her credit for. Still wants to bang my dad, probably.

Hilda - Speedy type. Weakness in Faith and Authority. No relevant talents. Bad with magic. Highest Charm stat of all non-lord characters. A delicate maiden who should really just cheer on her class mates from the sidelines and is totally not better off being sat on a flying lizard to one-shot people.

Raphael - Meh type. Weakness in Reason and Riding. No relevant talents. Statwise similar to Dedue.

Conclusion

For Black Eagles my top picks are Dorothea, Edelgard or Ferdinand. For Blue Lions definitely Ingrid. Followed by Sylvain or Felix. And for Golden Deer I’d honestly go with Flayn. But for students I’d pick either Lorenz, Marianne or Hilda.

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fe16 #misc #wow this took me forever to write

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randomnameless · 4 years

Text

Thinking about magic in FE16, thanks to a SF post :

The TC in that post went by the basis that Archanea/Jugdral/Valentia mechanics about magic applied to Fodlan, which I personally don’t believe.

In the Naga verse, magic is tied to spirits/faeries living in the land.

However, in FE16, I think it is tied to Sothis and Nabateans.

Macuil’s bio hails him as a pioneering figure for and master of the magical arts. Does it mean that before Macuil, no one knew how to use magic in Fodlan ? Or they might have known some stuff, but Macuil theorised it.

Still, Morfis is known around as being that “metropolis of magic”. Did they learn their own way to perform magic, using another source? And yet, the Morfis squad we can recruit wears the traditional agarthian get-up (iirc?) so Agarthians went there to build their city or, the devs forgot about coding a specific get up for some battalions (kuddos for the mittelfrank one though i love it).

Or maybe their knowledge of magic predates the Nemesis era, and one random Nabatean, just like Aubin who went in Dagda, decided to form a colony in Morfis and teach humans about magic. Maybe that random who went in Morfis was Macuil, idk.

Bar Morfis, we do not know if any other places outside of Fodlan developped magical arts, and if they developped it on their own or were helped, at the foundation, by a Nabatean.

Back to magic, the SF topic went on a recurrent take, saying that people who sucked in the Faith branch of magic didn’t have any attachment to the Church or didn’t believe in Sothis.

However, while I don’t know and can’t say why this branch of magic is called “Faith”, Linhardt, in his Flayn support, actually calls is “white magic” (idk how it is called in the jp script though!)

Linhardt: You are quite skilled in white magic, yes? My understanding is that you have a very high affinity for the art. Flayn: Yes, I do. I am confident in my abilities. I am glad of my abilities, for it is a way in which I am able to help others.

White magic is, per Flayn, a magic able to help others, or to support them. I know we have offensive white magic spells, but they kind of suck compared to “reason/black magic” ones. Maybe because the basis of white magic is to support, so using it to attack is a sort of failed hybridization of white and black magic.

It is also interesting because Linhardt, nerd as he is, knows that “Faith magic” is the same thing as “White Magic” and calls it by its name “white magic”.

So while “white magic” was turned into “faith magic”, someone’s proficiency to “white magic” isn’t really based on “Faith” or if you really love the Church and believe in the Goddess - else you’d have to make a case that Seteth doesn’t really believe in his mom because he doesn’t have “Faith” proficiency while Flayn does.

In Annette and Sylvain’s support chain, we see how Annette learns magic through formulas, and when someone uses magic (white and dark), we can see a weird vertical (?) circle, with I suppose, those formulas, being cast. When someone uses dark magic, the circle appears too, but on the ground, circling the caster, not in the air.

Dark Magic being associated with Agarthians, it might be a remnant of the good’ol days where Nabateans and humans worked together, they taught Agarthians how to use magic, and those guys customized it (to use the more powerful dark magic).

(Funny how one can suppose that if FE16 mages don’t use tomes, maybe in the other verses the formulas are inscribed on tomes?)

Agartha uses of magi-tech (some sort of magic + technology) is also shown in the Titanus who, despite attacking on physical defense unlike their Nabatean counterparts, also have an Aegis shield to reduce ranged damages (a more practical version of the anti-magic armor the Nabateans equipped their golems with). With magical basic teachings provided by Nabateans, humans managed to develop their own brand of magic.

Following this, it means that without Nabateans/Sothis and her lizards, there’d be no magic in FE16 (or in the Fodlan world)?

As I pointed out above, Morfis is a big question mark, and given how Nabateans scattered around the world per the devs, I cannot affirm that humans managed to discover/find/use magic on their own or not.

Still, we have two instances where it is suggered that Nabateans have a special relation to magic and/or are pure magical being.

First, in CF’s last chapter, again with one of Linhardt’s comments:

Linhardt: What? Her howl as unadulterated magic. I didn't know such a display of power was possible.

Rhea’s roar is “unadultered magic” meaning 1) Linhardt thinks magic exist in both forms, adultered and unadultered, the adultered version is the one humans use? He thought it was impossible to “display” this power, unadultered magic + 2) if a roar can covey “pure” magic to golems, either Nabateans can master magic very well and this was the only way Rhea found to power up far away golems, or, most plausible, a Nabatean is a magical being, its roars are pure magic and its blood is a catalyst to enable people to use magic?

Which brings me to the second point, Hanneman (Linhardt’s teacher!) and Alois’ support convo:

Hanneman: Well, if I'm completely honest, you're less of a student and more of an experiment. You have no Crest, but you might be able to learn magic... despite our early results. And the potential magical ability of those who lack a Crest is precisely what I hope to research. Alois: That's a surprise. A Crest scholar researching people without Crests? Hanneman: When studying Crests, it is also important to understand the effects of their absence. After all, the very reason for all of my research is to grant the power of a Crest to anyone who desires it. If it is in fact possible to increase the magical potential of people lacking a Crest, then I find myself one step closer to my goal. Hence my experiments with you are quite valuable to my research. Alois: Ah, that's wonderful! What a great man you are, Professor Hanneman. Truly, a man among men! Why, if I could prove it's possible to use magic without a Crest, what an honor that would be! Please, use me as you see fit! I won't let you down, I promise!

Crestless people have more difficulties to learn magic to the point where Alois claims that he’d be honoured to demonstrate that it’s possible to use magic without a crest.

It’d go with Macuil and the Nabateans’ motto of helping humans to use magic - for every humans, not for the few ones they blood-bonded with (I don’t think they were expectig a Nemesis and his Dudes to happen).

And yet, after the Nemesis incident, people with crests became a common-ish occurence in the world, so the paradigm shifted - magic wasn’t thought as something everyone could use, but something only crested people could use because it’s easier for them to do so because they have Nabatean DNA/blood.

Meaning that being part Nabatean, Full-blooded Nabatean or even having a drop of their blood impacts one’s ability to use magic - it’s usage isn’t exclusively granted to crested people, but damn if it isn’t easier to use it with lizard genes. I can only hope Morfis’ people were badass normals who mastered magic without using some kind of shortcut like the people of Fodlan did.

Do we know what is the source of magic in Fodlan? Nope. I can only suppose it is tied with Nabateans, and Sothis herself.

We don’t have any clues or evidences of magic existing in Fodlan before Sothis’ fall, but we don’t know a thing about that time. Magic is used in “foreign” countries, Morfis is an exemple, but it might have been influenced by a Nabatean.

Still, given how Nabateans are “magical” beings of blood and flesh, having been created from Sothis’ own blood, Sothis herself might have been “full” of magic and magic is implicitely tied, in the continent of Fodlan, to Nabateans.

Tl;Dr : In FE16, magic comes from space.

#FE16 #fodlan stuff #how does magic works no one knows #Lizards gave basics then humans are supposed to work from here?#why white magic was changed to faith magic?#to better blend with the church thing?#Magic existed before Saint Macuil but maybe he made magic available to random peons and not only to humans who knew/interacted with a lizard #idk #maybe he vulgarized magic?#'how to cast in 10 lessons' instead of reading a thesis or smthg like that #the morfis guys were stuck with the thesis version and yet managed to build their city of illusions #Rhea's roars are magic #Indech make a magical mist in his chapter #magical mist is also used by a random in the lonato chapter #you can a lot of things with magic in this world tbh #headcanon : Cethleann' AoE healing that put her to sleep was also unadultered magic

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pridelessdaydreamer · 1 year

Text

Wanted Plots for November

Mission Board Prompts

As a bona fide Black Eagle, Linhardt is willing to take any muse on.

bird tamers. [Gauntlets +1]

The premise of such a village is an interesting one, and it's certainly one Linhardt would like to investigate first-hand. The giant bird, however, is only a fascinating creature when not being crushed beneath it. taken by: [byleth ( @ashenprofessor )]

happy thoughts... [No Skill Point]

A village devoid of unhappiness can only be hiding a dark secret, but just what is hard to determine. Nonetheless, there's a strong chance that it has something to do with magic — which suffices. Consider Linhardt interested. taken by: [leanne ( @allegreta )]

self-sustained. [Axe +1]

He doesn't want to do this heavy-lifting, but it's all a means to an end, he supposes. Still, these rules are ... interesting to say the least. Just what exactly could they be about? taken by: [sakura ( @gentlenekomata )]

Non-Mission Board Prompts

for the books and the books only. [No Skill Point]

You threaten his books, you threaten his livelihood. He's doing this for what he might lose, for as exhausting as it may be. taken by: [midori ( @salveden )]

divining futures. [Reason or Faith +1]

He may not be too concerned with seeing any futures, but for something so common as tea leaves to be used as a method of magic? If Lin can learn about it, he absolutely will. taken by: [artur ( @shadesofpurity )]

As always, I'm open to other thread ideas (including others on the board, given Lin is aptly motivated), so hit me up if you have ideas! Discord is always best, but I'm eternally signed into all of my muses' blogs. Send me a message and I'll see it the next time I open my laptop.

#[‘that was a weird dream…’] (ooc)#toa open #// watch me be a bit TOO insane!!#// i looked at the mission board in the middle of chorus class :crylaugh:#// to be FAIR. we had a sub.#// anyways.

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tomnooksdingdong · 3 years

Photo

exc use my shit handwriting cause i have the handwriting of a kindergartener but here my fire emblem three houses oc. her name is florence fleance sinclair. i have made an extensive list of info about her!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

lore

Date of Birth: 15th of Ethereal Moon

She was born in the kingdom to a rags-to-riches apothecary owner and a drunken layabout. Shortly after her birth, her mother started receiving death threats from her partner and they fled to the alliance where she went to a very small school that turned out to be a very small offshoot of the Eastern Church where they did terrible things to those who disobeyed. she learned the trade of making poisons and herbal remedies. She is inquisitive by nature and came to garreg mach monastery to learn as much as she can.

she can be aloof and a bit eccentric at times, but she means well. she appreciates art and music and tries to find beauty in everything. however, she is hard on herself and tries to keep to herself. Yet being demure, her vocabulary is quite vulgar and gets stressed easily and uses her free time to paint or fish.

Likes:

- small flowers, art, music, animals, mysteries, tactics, making poisons

Dislikes:

- loud noises, heights, herself, controlling people, needles

Favorite Tea:

Crescent-Moon tea

Four-Spice blend tea

Possible supports:

BE:

Bernadetta (c-a)

Dorothea (c-b)

Ferdinand (c-b)

Hubert (c-a)

Linhardt (c-a)

BL:

Annette (c-b)

Ashe (c-a)

Mercedes (c-a)

Sylvain (c-a)

GD:

Claude (c-a)

Hilda (c-b)

Ignatz (c-a)

Leonie (c-a)

Lorenz (c-b)

Lysithea (c-b)

Marianne (c-a)

Raphael (c-a)

SS:

Cyril (c-b)

Hanneman (c-a)

Seteth (c-a)

Shamir (c-a)

AW:

Balthus (c-a)

Constance (c-b)

Hapi (c-a)

Meta shit:

Personal Skill:

Poisoner: Chance to inflict poison on foe when dealing damage.

Growths:

HP: 25%

STR: 50%

MAG: 45%

DEX: 40%

SPD: 30%

LCK: 45%

DEF: 20%

RES: 25%

CHA: 20%

Stats: (lv 1)

HP: 23

STR: 12

MAG: 11

DEX: 8

SPD: 5

LCK: 8

RES: 6

CHA: 5

Learned Magic:

Reason:

Miasma- D

Death- C+

Dark Spikes- B

Hades- A+

Faith:

Heal- D

Physic- C

Rescue- B

Warp- A

She would work well as a War Cleric, Valkyrie, Dark Flier, Gremory, Wyvern Lord, Falcon Knight, or Mortal Savant imo!

#fire emblem 3h #fe3h oc #fe3h #longpost #fire emblem #my art sucks #my artwork #oc

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bea-meupscotty · 4 years

Text

until you lose the road

He looks at Ferdinand, sagging in his arms, eyes fluttering, and wonders what kind of a man the professor would have let him shape himself into.

The moment Hubert lets himself believe in a different future.

Basically I got really inspired by all the ferdibert week goodness and wrote a little one-shot. Read it on ao3 here.

The ring of steel on steel peals across the battlefield, a mockery of bells ringing discordant unholy cadence of a hymn to some religion that Hubert lives and breathes and worships. The smell of blood and freshly churned earth and unmistakeable death are all around, even as he lurks in the little copse of trees on his corner of the battlefield, waiting for the enemy’s advance. This is war, glorious war fought in Lady Edelgard’s name, and it sings like the heavy pulse of magic within Hubert’s veins, grounds him and gives him purpose, his path through the dark days that have stretched endlessly from his childhood through today.

The charge, when it comes, makes him hesitate. It is a knight, in gleaming armor atop a dappled grey charger, and while the smears of mud and blood across the horse and its rider can dull the steel, nothing can cover or distract from the tumble of long ginger hair spilling across the rider’s shoulders, and Hubert watches the rest of the ambush, steps ahead of him in the trees, spill out to confront the paladin. It is Ferdinand, it had to be Ferdinand, charging ahead desperate to prove something and protect everyone, like always. Hubert tries desperately to summon the disgust and hatred that had seemed to simmer always shallowly beneath his skin for the red haired knight when he was younger, but he finds it out of reach, his mind grasping blindly in the depths of what passed for his heart these days. As he watches Ferdinand startle only for a moment before he is reoriented, he and his mount nimbly dodging and swinging his great lance, powerful and competent, Hubert realizes that hatred is gone, has sunken into the depths over the past five years—maybe more, if he is willing to admit to himself. Maybe, if he had met Ferdinand on the battlefield in the days right after that great betrayal (because as much as he always sniped at the man, it was a betrayal, he’d let himself think they might stand on either side of Edelgard at the end, Hubert her knife in the darkness and Ferdinand her gleaming diplomatic jewel), when the wound was raw and fresh and Hubert’s mind was clear and confident, filled with the certainty of Lady Edelgard’s path, he would have had the strength to step forward out of the trees and, while Ferdinand was busy with the swordsmen attacking him from all sides, snuff him out in one twist of his hands and surge of the darkness inside of him. Now though—he watches Ferdinand take a hit to the side and grimace in pain before his mount is pulling them out of the swordsman’s reach so that Ferdinand can, with a grunt of effort against the pain, throw a javelin with such strength that it crumples the imperial soldier’s breastplate and leaves him laying unmoving on the ground. He takes a half-step forward in the forest, fighting the tremor that wracks his body—another side effect of the darkest magics, he tells himself, and not a tremor of unnamed unexamined emotion at seeing the man who would have been the prime minister by his side spear another imperial fighter.

Hubert allows himself to shut his eyes against the sight of Ferdinand’s long hair blowing in the wind, the color of the sky over Enbarr at sunset, but all that does is let his mind wander freely over the memories of long nights at Garreg Mach, mornings spent training and nights spent working together in the library that turned into long debates about the future of Adrestia and the best way to serve Edelgard and the people, the smell of Ferdinand’s tea mixing with the familiar scent of his own coffee, and Hubert feels his hand clench into a fist reflexively. He shakes himself—it won’t do to dwell on useless sentimentality, on futures that could have been—and opens his eyes just in time to watch Ferdinand take a blow to his side as he’s twisted around to slice through the second to last member of the ambush team. For a moment he thinks the sword has struck true and deep, but it must have just been glancing, because Ferdinand barely hesitates before he swivels around and strikes the last man down.

He is turned away from where Hubert stands in the trees, head hanging down and lance slumping downward as he seems to pause to catch his breath. The sounds of his comrades are still far off, and Hubert steps out of the trees at last, for the moment that will be his inevitable triumph, because Ferdinand is still trying to regain his composure, weakened and distracted, and all it will take is one spell. He’s imagined it before, this, the moment of confrontation—more than he’d imagined it with any of the others, Dorothea or Caspar, even the false king Dimitri or that useless schemer Claude, even more than their professor, faithless in the end (faithful, in the end, a traitorous voice mutters in the back of his mind, to the father whose death your shortcuts and compromises caused)—confronting Ferdinand, the one he’d thought loved Adrestia more than anyone else, but had turned against it in the end. Which is all to say, he has imagined this dramatic speech playing out a thousand and one ways.

“Noble to the end, von Aegir,” he says, stepping into the light from the shadows dappled through the forest, “but I’m afraid that this is, in fact, the end.”

Ferdinand does not move, back still turned, shoulders still slumped. His mount twitches one ear towards him, but Ferdinand himself is still. Hubert wonders if the man even heard him—maybe he’s gone deaf with the ringing of clashing metal. Maybe he’s just too tired to care. Neither will do for what Hubert has in mind—for the end of their erstwhile rivalry, his shining counterpart, killing him with his back turned seems… dull. He wants the moment to gloat, to revel in the triumph of his own ideology against Ferdinand’s faithless optimism, to reassure himself that this is, in fact, a triumph.

This is why he tells himself he stays his hand, steps closer and tries again. “Can’t even bear to turn and face me at the end, von Aegir?”

Nothing.

Ferdinand’s mount shifts uneasily, restlessly, and the lance slides lower, nearly touching the ground now.

“Von Aegir? … Ferdinand?”

The horse takes another nervous sidestep and Hubert finally notices that, with the motion, Ferdinand lists slightly in the saddle. His heart is hammering in his chest in a way that has nothing to do with the thrill of battle and everything to do with what suddenly feels like a pit of aching dread that has opened in his chest. He takes a step closer, tries to soothe the horse with a gentle shushing tone, and when he finally manages to inch close enough to grab the horse by the bridle and spin her around, he realizes with a sudden zip of emotion that feels uncomfortably close to fear, an emotion he thought he’d long stamped out of his heart, that his earlier observation had been true. That last blow had struck true, between the gap in the plates exposed when Ferdinand was turned, and the armor is now stained red, Ferdinand’s breeches are stained red, the coat of the horse beneath him turned dark and sticky—all of it blood, blood, so much blood.

“Ferdinand?” Hubert knows his voice is high now, nervous, for reasons he can’t quite say, but—there’s so much blood. He’s no stranger to death, it has come at his hands more times than he could count if he had a lifetime to try to remember, but he favors poison, magic, death swift and from a distance, as if he is an avenging angel carrying out Lady Edelgard’s divine will. He is woefully unprepared for the sight of Ferdinand’s hands slowly losing their grip on his lance, his aristocratic face, so familiar and delicate and strong, going slack and pale, for the slight tilt in his saddle that leads Hubert to inexplicably lean closer and keep him from falling, for the raspy breath that shudders through Ferdinand and makes Hubert understand with vivid clarity the phrase death rattle.

Hubert feels a heat behind his eyes and realizes that he is fighting back tears. The rush of shame that fills him only makes the sting of tears burn hotter, makes them well up faster no matter how hard and fast he blinks them away. This is not how it was supposed to be, not any of it, a voice roars desperately through his chest. They were supposed to unveil a glorious future together, all of them, and the seed that was planted the moment he’d watched the professor, head shaking in disbelief, whisper no, you… it was… you…. killed my father…., and seen them, one by one, Linhardt and Caspar and scared little Bernadetta and sweet Dorothea and proud Petra and then, the last stab that had clawed whatever light was left in him out of his chest with jagged claws, Ferdinand, fear and disappointment in his eyes as he looked at Hubert, all of them go to the professor—that seed of doubt suddenly bears heavy fruit, sickly sweet with the taste of shame. He looks down at Ferdinand’s blood on his hands—his hands, the hands that have shaped an empire, that have conquered half of Fodlan, filled with a magic that has served him well, and realizes that they are the hands of the man he has always told himself to be, a faithful servant, a blade in the dark, a serpent in the grass, viper and vicious—and for all the power and magic that curls within his veins that man has never learned a single goddess-damned healing spell. He looks at Ferdinand, sagging in his arms, eyes fluttering, and thinks about all of the times his professor tried to convince him to sit through a lecture on faith, the useless riding activities she’d forced him to complete with Ferdinand, and wonders what kind of a man the professor would have let him shape himself into.

A single hot tear finally escapes to slide down his face.

Before he lets himself think about everything he is doing, he pushes Ferdinand up and manages to hoist himself onto the charger’s back, hissing at the mare to stay steady as he dislodges Ferdinand’s feet from the stirrups to slide his own in, wraps an arm around the shorter man’s waist to hold him and spurs the mount forward into a recklessly fast gallop back into the fray of the main battle, where the bulk of the resistance forces—the enemy forces—must lie. A soldier—Hubert can’t tell where the soldier is from, Empire or Kingdom or church—steps into their path, axe raised, and Hubert snuffs his life out with a flash of magic that makes him grit his teeth with effort. The horse startles slightly at the rush of it, the hint of sulfur that hangs in the air, and even Ferdinand in front of him groans slightly before Hubert feels a shudder wrack Ferdinand’s body and hears another of those gasping kind of breaths.

“Do not die on me right now, you useless fool. As you are so fond of reminding me, you are Ferdinand von Aegir, and this is not how you are meant to die,” Hubert hisses into Ferdinand’s ear, hoping the familiar venom hides the creeping panic and desperation in his voice as he spurs the horse on ever faster, dangerously fast across this terrain, but he can see the clash of the main forces now, mostly to his left, and further back, near the safety of a small forest, the flash of healing magic. More importantly, he can feel the familiar rustle of Linhardt’s magic that direction, like a cool stream or a brush of silk or the warmth of the sun’s first rays at dawn, remembered from long ago and so different to the feel of his own magic.

He’s almost to them when someone else makes to step into their path, a lean figure with swords criss-crossing his back, and, more importantly for Hubert’s urgent purposes, lightning crackling at his fingertips.

“Come to play, Vestra?” snarls the familiar voice of the Fraldarius heir, and Hubert curses that that useless goddess just can’t let him have this one.

“Healer—” he yells, slowing the horse as much as he dares into a quick canter, trying to raise the hand that isn’t keeping Ferdinand upright and breathing shallowly against his neck in a show of surrender.

“We’re not falling for your tricks, snake,” Fraldarius says again, and he’s drawn a jagged-looking sword and energy is gathering, stronger now, ready to lash out towards Hubert and Ferdinand.

“For goddess’—I’m trying to—you will not stand in my way,” he roars now, and he knows he sounds unhinged, all trace of the ever smooth, ever unruffled hand of the emperor gone now in the crack of his voice, but there’s another rush of hot blood over the hand wrapped around Ferdinand, and he can hear a pained whimper and Hubert is letting his emotion fuel a rush of magic, anger and doubt and fear, gaping aching fear that Ferdinand will die in his arms steps away from a healer because Hubert has made himself into the kind of man no one can trust for even half a second, and he is seconds from letting that magic swallow Fraldarius in darkness when he feels a soft whisper of another magic against him, slipping around and then tightening—and he twists his hand and nothing happens.

He looks up and sees, a few paces behind Fraldarius, the soft blue hair of the von Edmund girl, head actually held high for the first time he can remember, face serene and confident and not haunted by dark circles. Her voice is still soft, but it rings clear enough that Hubert can hear it across the battlefield as she calls to Fraldarius, “it’s okay, Felix, I’ve bound his magic.”

He’s upon them in an instant and dismounting, and von Edmund is calling for others, eyes widening as her hands already begin working over Ferdinand’s wounds. As soon as he can feel the soothing lightness of healing magic prickling nearby, Hubert sags into the rough grip that Fraldarius has on his arms, twisted behind his back as if the man doesn’t quite believe in the binding magic.

“You’ll be our prisoner. I’ll take you to the professor,” Fraldarius tells him, voice rough. But for all of that, he doesn’t make Hubert begin to walk away, across the battlefield where the last of the imperial forces are being routed, until Linhardt has looked up and told them that Ferdinand will live, and Hubert stores that small kindness in the place inside of him where once he thinks he might have had a heart.

⁂

Death, Ferdinand thinks, should be less painful than this.

He’d always expected to float softly into an afterlife, into the goddess’ warm embrace. As it is, he exists in darkness and pain, flickering between the dark swallow of unconsciousness and a burning that engulfs the entire left side of his torso.

Sometimes he dreams that someone is touching him—a hesitant brush of fingers that seem oddly scarred against his own hand, his forearm, once against his cheek. He knows he must have died, because once he thinks he smells coffee—a scent he’d thought he’d long ago forgotten but that must have been waiting in the deepest recesses of his memory to return, to torment him with memories of late nights shoulder to shoulder with fastidious handwriting and sharp smiles and green eyes he’d fooled himself into thinking he saw an ounce of kindness in, with imagined futures where that kindness was real and they’d been able to sit together and plan a new world, one that was actually kinder and better and not just needlessly forged in blood.

The fact that he realizes this can only be imagined is what convinces him he’s alive—if he were dead, the memory of a future he could never have wouldn’t hurt quite so badly.

After what feels like wading through a never-ending swamp of pain and confusion, he gives an almighty heave of effort—and blinks at the late afternoon sunlight filtering into the familiar infirmary at the monastery. He groans slightly, and his eyes focus enough to see Marianne, sitting in a chair in the corner, giving him a bright, reassuring smile.

“Marianne,” he croaks. It takes two tries, and his voice is rough like sandpaper from what must be long disuse. “What happened? I… I thought…”

“We can talk about it all later,” she says in a soft voice, leaning forward to pat his arm reassuringly, and Ferdinand ignores the pang of disappointment that it must have been Marianne touching him all along, “but you were hurt very badly. There was an ambush, and you would have died if it hadn’t been for—”

He is startled by the sound of the door opening, and then the shattering of what sounds like ceramic against the floor. His nostrils flare as he smells coffee.

“Marianne,” he whispers, “I think I have a head injury.”

Turning over to look in the direction of the doorway feels like a monumental effort, a thousand times worse than opening his eyes or speaking, and certainly not worth the pain of turning just to see that his senses are deceiving him and he will find only Manuela or Annette in the doorway, not worth the useless pang of disappointment even after all of these years. He thought he’d shoved that hope deep down inside of him and let it die long ago; the fact that, faced with near-death, this is what his brain has chosen to bring to the surface almost offends him.

“… Ferdinand?”

The voice is unmistakeable, even if he has never quite heard it sound so hesitant, so disbelieving, so far from the cold certainty that had marked their school days.

Ferdinand whips his head around so quickly it sends a deep pulse of nausea through him, forcing his eyes shut as he fights back a groan. Barely moments later, there are hands at his arm, gentle and hesitant.

When he forces his eyes open again, the sight makes him draw in a sharp breath. Hubert is kneeling at the side of his bed. His hair has the tousled look of having had hands run through it repeatedly, he is even paler than Ferdinand remembers, and the bags under his eyes are so deep and dark they look like bruises, but it is unmistakably him.

“What... how?” Ferdinand whispers. Hubert shifts slightly and Ferdinand looks down to realize that there are chains on Hubert’s wrists. He doesn’t know if he’s more surprised at their existence, or at how little they seem to bother Hubert in this moment.

“Von Aegir—Ferdinand,” Hubert breathes, disbelievingly, and then his voice seems to steady somewhat, “There is… much to confess. But first… may I get you some tea?”

#oops i made myself sad #fanfic #ferdibert #ferdibert week #fic #fe3h #fire emblem #hubert x ferdinand #ferdinand x hubert #ao3

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