Bouquet: Full Bloom, part two
Title: Bouquet, Full Bloom part two
Series: Fire Emblem 7: Rekka no Ken/The Blazing Sword
Rating: PG
Genre: Drama
Characters: Pent/Louise
(C) Intelligent Systems and Nintendo
Note the First: I use this and this other site for my Victorian flower translations. The second is more thorough than the first.
Summary: The beginning of the end.
Full Bloom, part two: Coltsfoot
(justice be done)
According to the various soldiers of their small force, it was hot and not hot, the bright August days still strangely mild compared to Etrurian summers. That didn't mean that everyone accepted the weather stoically; Pent had the dubious pleasure of receiving any number of complaints with every assignment he put to his men.
"It's too hot to cut firewood, Captain! And anyway, why do we need firewood? It's so hot!"
"Because we require fire to cook meat. Or would you prefer to hunt?"
"Hey Captain, I think the heat is making me sick. That means I don't have to work medic duty, right?"
"It means I can put you on water-gathering duty, actually."
"Captain, you should put me on the fishing crew. You know how good I am with that."
"You've been on it for the last three times. Furthermore, Kellis, don't you think you're setting a poor example here?"
"C'mon, we're all criminals already. This is nothing, yeah?"
Pent refused to admit anything; the truth of the matter was far more complicated than that. If these were Etruria's worst, so terrible they had to be banished across the Miltein Strait, Etruria was truly a blessed kingdom. The only thing that bothered him was the thought of another mutiny, even though it seemed that tensions had lessened. Because he had admitted that he was Count Reglay, though since then he had found out he was believed dead on the mainland, his position felt tenuous--at any time he could be captured and used as a hostage if enough people were of a mind to do it, but at the same time he was worthless as collateral.
Like many things about his past life, he didn't care to think of it much.
-0-
Pent was feeling content, basking in the midday sun as he rubbed his smooth jawline. It was the first time he had shaved in five days--although he hadn't needed it for the first two--and he had to admit that he simply felt more like himself once he was able to perform his toilet, meager as it was on an island far away from home and lacking those noble duties that required him to look immaculate. In a group of men it was almost mandatory to let go of some of his fastidiousness, but considering his hair color he thought it best to ward off any jokes about being an 'old man', if for nothing else than because he would like to retain some respect.
For once, the camp was quiet; anyone with a chore to perform was supposedly out doing it, while everyone still in the camp stayed within their tents and napped away the noontime heat. He was the only one outside, which allowed him to commune with the spirits of nature, few though they were in this place. One brushed across his cheek as a slight breeze and he smiled. Yes, he may have lost his life while still existing in this world, but on a day like this when he could simply rest and indulge in something to do with anima, he could almost accept his lot in the world.
Then the man walked into the camp.
Pent climbed to his feet, warily gazing at the newcomer without making a move that suggested he felt threatened. He was still deciding whether he should be; the man wore the uniform of a high-ranking Etrurian soldier, though he had no armor. Perhaps he was an aide to a ranking officer, but which one? Pent could only remember the lieutenant-general of the magic branch of the military, and that man was not her. If this man was the knight general's, then Pent knew this could become a worse-case scenario in an instant.
The man looked around, clearly unimpressed, then settled his gaze upon Pent. "Your defense is shoddy."
"The resistance group prefers attacking during the evening," Pent said mildly.
"If they are unable to withstand the heat, why not use this weakness to destroy them in their dens?"
"Our orders were to defend Etrurian interests," Pent stated, fresh annoyance causing him to frown. "They were not to annihilate our opposition indiscriminately."
"I see you follow your orders to the letter," the aide said. "You are Pent Martel, Count Reglay?"
"I am. And you are?"
"An aide for the man who wishes to see you." The aide gestured towards the shoreline. "We'll be traversing the strait, so I suggest you inform your comrades."
Pent paused, his natural sense of suspicion growing--he felt he would be a fool to trust without reservations, but there was more than that. "Exactly who do you work for? I know you belong to the military."
"And that is all you need to know. I was ordered to escort you, not to provide all the information you demand. All I can say is that he is your ally for as long as you do not cross him."
"Would I be able to bring another with me?"
"No."
Closing his eyes, Pent brought his hand to his forehead, fingers squeezing the bridge of his nose. It did not help him think with more clarity, nor did the aide's obvious signs of impatience as the other man shifted his weight from one leg to another. "It would be difficult to agree. My life is not only mine; I have to think about the men I lead as well. If you intend to harm me, let me warn you that I will not succumb easily."
The aide only blinked at these words. "I would hope so, Captain. Now, will you go?"
"Let me 'inform my comrades', as you put it," Pent said with the barest hint of humor before he left the aide, walking swiftly towards the tents of his sub-leaders. Kellis was out, ostensibly supervising the water-gathering group, but Henri only nodded thoughtfully when Pent came upon him, his blue eyes still bleary with the remnants of his nap. Pent also had the forethought of informing Simon as well, who only nodded, though his eyes were much sharper. Though Pent wasn't sure what to make of that, he let the priest be before departing with the military aide. The seafaring vessel obtained for their use was no boat but just a skiff, easily maneuverable over the calm waves that comprised the strait; low tide being what it was, Pent hardly had a fear of being splashed as the skiff skimmed over the lazy rolling of the passage waters. They arrived on the beach of the mainland in very little time, though there was still an entire cliff to climb, as the aide stated that the man he served preferred this little-used locale rather than the small port town of Piraeus adjacent to it.
Pent only raised an eyebrow at this, wondering if this man truly intended to appear this suspicious or if it was simply an ill-timed fluke. If it was the latter, it was quite impressive in its own way.
Rude formations that could only be described as rudimentary stairs had been carved into the rock at a sideways angle, parallel to the face of the cliff. It didn't resemble Etrurian design; Pent remembered from his history lessons that the berserkers of the Western Isles had attempted many times in centuries past to invade Etruria. Perhaps this was from one of those attempts. He could only imagine fishermen using it now as a way to avoid the larger ships at the docks. Making his way to the stairs, he noticed that the military assistant wasn't following him. "Won't you be presenting me to your superior?" Pent asked.
The aide shook his head. "He told me this was to be a private meeting. I will tend to the boat."
This did little to quell his suspicions, but Pent decided it would make it easier for him if he didn't feel he had to watch his back. At a time like this he wished for Nestor's presence, though thankfully the man was serving guard duty back at the camp, which allowed Pent to worry only about himself at the moment. While the military aide didn't wear the crest of the hibiscus that was the knight general's family emblem, Pent had also noticed the other man only wore the insignia of the Etrurian military--in other words, he could never be traced back to the actions of his superior.
Why?
For all his thoughts--perhaps paranoia, if only the last eight months hadn't put the lie to that--about danger awaiting him at the top of the cliff, it was surprising devoid of anything threatening. There was a carriage in the distance, and there was someone departing from it, and...?
Pent stilled. He had not noticed any particular degradation of his eyesight, which had always been excellent, but perhaps he would be the last to know about such a thing. This had to be true, because what he was seeing couldn't possibly exist. No matter how much he wanted it to, he was dead to Etruria now.
He was dead to her now.
This is what he believed, but the figure rapidly approaching him had hair the color of the most vivid, blinding gold, and the closer she got the more the flimsy outline of months of thoughts, fantasies, became solid and filled in with the vibrancy that only belonged to her--her.
"Louise," he whispered, and never had such a utterance held such a tangible weight on his tongue.
She stopped mere feet from him, looking up at him with such a sense of expectancy that he was frozen by it. The last fourteen months had changed her for the better in his eyes; there was a maturity to her face that he hadn't remembered from before, a lessening of baby fat that made the shape of her face nearly perfect to his eye. Yet, he could tell by the brightness of her gaze--lavender eyes more vivid in color than any bloom he had seen among the tangled weed-like grass of his campsite--and the eagerness of her smile that she was still the same, wonderful girl he had missed so much. The bow in her hand and the quiver slung along the hip of her elegant, muted dress proved this more than anything else.
Perhaps he had been staring too long, because the expression on her face was dulling in shades, which in turn confused him. "Lord Pent," she said, and he could have sworn that something inside him actually fluttered at the sound of her voice, "it's...I have...you don't seem very, um, pleased to see me..."
He was feeling somewhat wounded by that; there were many other more pleasant greeting words. But someone like Louise thrived on emotion, on the giving and receiving of it, and he understood that he could stand to be more effusive at such a time. And, as well, he had been thinking of doing this for too long.
Crossing the few feet between them, he embraced her.
It was no surprise to him when she stiffened in his very light hold; he had not wanted to startle her, but perhaps he was being too forward? He knew he was not being any more considerate of her when he bent down and murmured, "This may be unpleasant to you, and I apologize, but please allow me this much for just a moment." It was interesting to him when she relaxed afterward, but it was when she leaned into him and wrapped her own arms around his waist just as lightly as his arms wound around her shoulders that he felt...strange. Happy, he supposed.
"It's fine, Lord Pent," she murmured back, "Thank you..."
He hardly believed he was owed any gratitude, but he had no interest in challenging her words; this moment did not deserve the interruption. All he wanted was to drown in the sensation of her body in his arms, from her soft hair against the side of his face to the curves of her body pressed against him to the feel of her hands against his back. Holding, being held...certainly he had felt the spiritual equivalent when communing with the spirits in Etruria, but to readily experience another person in this way deified description. It felt like something he had experienced long, long ago, something that had seeped into his body's memory and was now reawakened--he, perhaps, had reawakened.
Yes, this feeling was not new. It only had been rediscovered and it was...she was...
Everything was fine.
Separating from her had to happen eventually, but he kept his hands on her elbows as he looked down at her--she had grown taller, the top her head reaching his chin, but she was still charmingly petite. Her hands were on his forearms, not any more willing to completely let go than he was, and that too was very charming. "Louise, I have to admit that I'm surprised to see you here. I'm aware of my current status in Etruria," he said, willing himself to focus and get to the heart of the situation.
Her brow furrowed at his words, a determined look on her face now. "I know, but I knew you were alive."
"How long have you known this?"
"...Since your funeral." Something seemed to occur to her, as her eyes widened afterward and she quickly said, "But I spent all my time preparing to come here! I never meant to leave you here, I--"
"I'm not angry," he hurried to reassure her, surprised at her sudden burst of emotion. "You came here, and that is enough."
Her eyes lowered to his coat. "I should have come here sooner, but no matter how hard I trained it didn't feel nearly enough. Your feelings told me that it was very difficult here and that you suffered greatly, so I wanted to make sure I could be the equal of that."
"My feelings?" he asked. Looking up at him again, her vivid eyes held something strange there, almost reverent.
"Yes. When I was overtaken by despair, your feelings came to me and helped me find the power to unlock the truth." This admission surprised him; he vaguely remembered asking the spirits to send his feelings to her at a time when he had no hope left. However, the powers of the spirits in the Western Isles must be even dimmer than he had imagined if it had taken them three months to come to her.
"Unlock the truth?"
"I opened your coffin," she clarified. Pent felt a little bemused at this.
"In front of the entire service?"
She smiled slightly at this. "If I had, then everyone could be persuaded the truth. The knight general put rocks in a coffin he had bought and claimed they were your remains." There was anger, real anger, in Louise's expression as her hands gripped his arms with a surprising strength. "Lord Pent, the knight general plotted everything against you! He--"
"I know, Louise," he said with a quietness that in turn stilled her words. "I know."
"He did it as revenge against Mother."
"No, at least, not completely. He did it because I defied him."
"How?" she asked, a clear innocence to her lovely features that made something inside of him ache to see it. It made him feel glad that he could say the next words to that beautiful face and see the purity of whatever her reaction would be.
"Because I wanted to be with you."
Her mouth made a perfect little 'O' of what he supposed was surprise--he was being awfully bold, but he felt he deserved the right. His time separated from her taught him that only a fool would come away from the experience with his feelings locked down and hidden from those he cared about. To live like Louise did, with her emotions always readily available for others to see, seemed like it could lead to painful experiences, but she had the strength to live by her convictions without hiding them away. He truly admired that, and he would be a poor example of a man to refuse to reciprocate as much as he could.
Besides, she had come to the far reaches of Etruria to find him. With that in mind, a confession such as his would not fall on deaf ears.
A blush suffused her cheeks as she smiled at him, though she wouldn't quite meet his eyes as she said, "Y-yes. I...I also want the same."
To actually hear the words directed towards him was far more satisfying that the assumption of her feelings, and Pent smiled in response. "I'm glad," was all he could think of saying, and perhaps that was enough, for her smile rivaled the sun in its sheer vivacity. He hated to dim her smile, but he had to ask the next question on his mind. "Louise, how did you get here?"
"Ah, my grandfather. Actually," she continued, her smile lessening, "he's waiting for us. He wanted to talk with you."
"Well, let's not keep him waiting," Pent replied, releasing his tentative hold on her in favor of taking her hand in his. He remembered the sensation of walking hand-in-hand with her, and to recover the experience of it made him smile even as they headed towards the carriage where her grandfather awaited them. He had no idea as to the character of her grandfather, but he reasoned that the man had to have something of a good temperament, considering that he came with his granddaughter to this place to seek a 'dead man'. Something bothered him about his assessment and he ignored it, because he felt so, so close to a satisfying conclusion for himself and his men.
It was when he laid eyes on the man that Pent began to rethink his optimism, as Louise's grandfather looked down on him with dark eyes and an impassive face that suggested he thought very little about Pent. When Louise introduced her grandfather as, "Duke Mersey, the former Great General of Etruria," Pent realized that Lady Catherine had once told him that her father had once brought an armed expedition down to Alloway to bring her back, striking down her new husband and only turning back when Count Alloway brought his own forces to bear. All this, for the sake of the man the duke considered a son...the current Knight General of Etruria.
Suddenly, Pent was unsure about the man's willingness to decide anything in his favor.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lord Trent," Pent said after the introductions were finished. "What do you have to speak with me about?"
Louise's grandfather ignored him for his granddaughter. "Louise, wait in the carriage. This business does not concern you." Pent could feel Louise loosen her grip, but he only tightened his as he kept his eyes on the duke.
"I apologize, but I would prefer she stays. As her fiancé, I feel it does concern her as she has valuable information regarding this whole ordeal."
"You are a dead man to Etruria," the duke said. "That means you no longer have a claim to her."
"I'm not dead and have never been. Claims aside, Louise knows as much about the situation and I feel it would be best if she were present," Pent replied in clipped tones, annoyed. Her grandfather only shrugged, as if none of his words mattered, which only served to irritate Pent further. Turning to Louise, he asked her, "What would you like to do?"
There was a queer uncertainty to her manner, so at odds with her usual robust earnestness, that he found himself displeased even when her answer was, "I'd like to stay," in a quiet voice that had all the force of falling leaves in autumn. In the presence of her grandfather Louise became less than she was, what Pent knew her to be, and he had to wonder if he wasn't be the cruel one by keeping her nearby.
Her grandfather ignored her; Pent could see it happen with only a flicker of the elder man's gaze, which was now entirely directed at him. "What do you believe to be the cause of your current situation?" the duke asked, his tone suggesting that Pent couldn't ever really know the truth behind it. Unimpressed, Pent sought to keep his voice mild and emotionless in an effort to restrain himself.
"I believe that the knight general has knowingly contributed to the ordeal my men and I have suffered since January of this year by failing to bring reinforcements after the death of our commander, then refusing to acknowledge our existence by no longer sending supplies to our location. I believe this is because, in part, he was aiding my political enemies in Reglay by assuring that I would no longer return, allowing a claimant with a weak tie to House Reglay to succeed my position as Count Reglay."
"And what would he get out of such an alliance?"
Pent frowned, knowing that the answer was beyond him other than conjectures, but he was saved by Louise's soft voice. "Because he hates Mother, and he hates me by proxy," she answered. "He told Mother that she should understand that he is everything as far as the kingdom goes, and she is nothing. And...I heard a rumor."
"I do not deal in such unreliable things," her grandfather warned, and whatever comfort Pent derived from hearing Louise's voice was immediately banished. He could feel Louise squeeze his hand, perhaps wanting his attention, and he squeezed back and hoped that the action comforted her.
"The former steward of Reglay Castle wrote to me a couple months ago after he settled in his new situation at Caerleon Castle. In passing, he had heard that the knight general's son would be formally announcing his engagement to the niece of Baron Tilley, who was adopted as his daughter, so..." When Louise glanced at him, Pent could see something hesitant and sad in the way her mouth was set. "The knight general's son will then be the next Count Reglay."
The news caused a silence that Pent thought was at least partially in amazement at the sheer nerve of these people. Glancing at Louise's grandfather told him that the man had no idea of this plan, not because of any betrayal of surprise but rather how entirely his expression was shut down, as if it was a wall to all the feelings that dwelt in his heart and mind. He had probably been an excellent great general during his reign, but now as a man living in his retirement it seemed that having such a severe attitude towards life would be more a detriment than a useful quality. But any sense of pity for the man was stopped short when Pent realized something in Louise's narrative. "What do you mean that Raike is now working for Count Caerleon?" he inquired.
"Shortly after Baron Tilley took your position, Master Raike was let go and someone else was placed as the steward," Louise replied, looking troubled. "He wasn't inclined to leave because of his family and his house were all settled, and he did find a place in the mercantile district, but then the city guard because harassing him and Madame Amy over her pegasus, about needing a special license to own one and questioning her loyalties, so they had to move. I asked Nella if she knew of a clerical position in Caerleon and she was able to take in Master Raike and his family, but it's still sad. He wrote that his family had lived in Reglay since they immigrated from Lycia generations ago, and his mother is especially distraught about having to move."
"But you did them an excellent service by securing a position for him," Pent reminded her. "And, as this seems to bear repeating, I'm not dead. Raike and his family will be able to return once I've been legally recognized again."
Louise grinned. "That's true. How wonderful!"
"Before you get carried away, there are still the terms of your return to consider," Louise's grandfather said. Pent stared at him, confused.
"What sort of terms would I need? This is all the fault of a conspiracy of which I and my men are blameless for."
"More or less," her grandfather intoned. "But I will be the one who decides that."
"Grandfather?" Louise questioned, her profile a study of incomprehension. Pent squeezed her hand again, but her grip seemed only to slacken further.
"What are your terms?" Pent asked.
"In exchange for your silence regarding the alleged truth of your detainment, I will have you and the rest of your forces escorted from the island and returned to their homes."
Pent said nothing for a long moment--he was too appalled to do so. To be forced to bargain for what he and his men rightfully deserved was terrible enough, but for the knight general to be allowed to escape from his many crimes in exchange was simply beyond him. How could he even consider such a thing? He and everyone else had suffered so much because of this one man, and now he was to agree to...to this?
He couldn't. He simply couldn't, even knowing what would happen if he refused. To rot away on that island, utterly abandoned by his country, until an inevitable death in battle...that would be his only expectation should he refuse, and yet it was the only option in line with his values. Glancing at Louise was a secret torture he allowed himself, knowing that to refuse would be to give her up forever, yet he could not help himself any more than his body could avoid food and water.
"Grandfather, why would you...how could you do such a thing? I trusted you to help..." Louise spoke, breaking the long silence between the three of them. The very sound of heartbreak was in her voice, and hearing it made something shift inside Pent's mind.
He never wanted to hear her voice sound like that again.
"I require help in return," her grandfather said. "Were the news of this to get out, the people would lose their confidence in not only the Three Generals, but perhaps even the king himself. That would be unacceptable."
"What is unacceptable is to hide the truth of the evils done by any member of the royal court, including the generals. As a knight, you swore certain oaths to both king and country, and disregarding them now for the sake of protecting someone who willingly threw away his own oaths is asinine at best. At worst, it is an action that only proves that Etruria has no right to consider itself a holy kingdom in the following of the saint." Pent could feel his anger rising with every word he said, realizing more and more with every word exactly how terrible the entire situation was. It was that anger that made him demand of the man in front of him, "What would be worth throwing away your honor in such a manner?"
Louise's grandfather was looking down his nose at Pent before he'd even finished talking, and that, combined with the older man's naturally imperious nature, only worked at frustrating Pent further. "It is no such thing," her grandfather stated. "I am offering this deal to you in good faith. If you cannot accept that, then you must know that you are dooming the rest of your men to an ignoble fate. Justice is not about wanton destruction for the sake of revenge."
"And then?" Pent questioned, unable to hide the slight disgust in his tone. "What will you do, should I agree?"
"I will talk to him," the older man declared.
"And?"
"That is all you need to know. It has nothing to do with you."
"It has everything to do with me!" The words burst forth without encountering even a hint of Pent's normal standards of self-control, and he felt no shame in it. "Hasn't anything either of us have said registered at all? That man hasn't committed these crimes out of altruism--he is benefiting in every possible way he can from his actions! If this is not something that should be brought before the king and punished, then what is? Is your friendship with him worth everything Etruria purports itself to be?"
With a short sigh, more of an exasperated huff than one of exhaustion, Louise's grandfather only shook his head. "Perhaps it would be best if you did not return. A count should be more reasonable than a boy throwing temper tantrums. Certainly I would not sanction my granddaughter's marriage to you, after seeing what a poor example of a man you have shown today. Well? What is your final decision?"
Pent did not hesitate. "Your deal is unacceptable and should never have been uttered in the first place. It lowers all of us to have even heard it. I refuse."
"Thank you." To Louise, her grandfather nodded. "Come here. You have much to answer for, requesting that I do so much for such an unworthy boy."
Steeling his heart for the inevitable separation, Pent found it almost difficult to breathe when Louise instead gripped his hand with a surprising strength even for an archer. "I'm not going, Grandfather."
"I shouldn't have to tell you twice--"
"Then please do not. Everything I've done was to reach Lord Pent. If he is staying, then I will too."
"You foolish girl--"
"I don't believe so, not in this case." Pent caught the strained look she gave him before she returned her attention to her grandfather. "Celia, my maid, is already returning to Alloway with a letter I wrote. It's addressed to Mother, and in it there are details of every proof I have regarding the conspiracy surrounding Lord Pent. She will have to believe it, because I will be with Lord Pent. Mother is already writing something that promises to ruin the knight general for good, and this will only spur her forward. Celia is to wait a week before she gives Mother this letter, Grandfather."
Her grandfather only crossed his arms. "And will ruining everything satisfy you, Granddaughter?"
"No, it wouldn't. But the fact that I have planned this much...doesn't that tell you how little I think of your willingness to choose the right path? Doesn't that show that I fully believe you would pick the man you think of as a son over your trueborn daughter?" Louise looked down; to Pent, she looked as though she were reaching the end of her limits, though he had the feeling that she could go much further if she had to. "I don't want to call home an Etruria that has forgotten Saint Elimine's words. Not anymore."
"And so it is more Eliminean to run off to a foreign land with a man who is not your husband."
"Actually," Pent interjected, "there is a priest with our company. He will marry us, if it comes to that. But, speaking respectfully, it doesn't have to. That is up to you to decide what is more important, whether it is family and personal honor, or the friendship of a man who destroys because he can and seeks to gain in any way he can from his malicious actions. All we can do is follow our own path, no matter where you intend to go."
The one thing Pent was fully aware of in the silence that followed was the pressure of Louise's hand in his. Between their hands was a heartbeat, their shared heartbeat, as if the two of them were for once in time with the other. There was no separation, no awkwardness of their earlier times nor the physical distance; there was only him and her, Pent and Louise. It was a very strange thing to realize, but it gave him great comfort at a moment like this.
He wasn't alone.
So he held her hand and she held his, and they waited. Louise's grandfather looked no more troubled than he had before, Pent not having met the man before, but he could sense that the elder man was bothered. Was it that yet another family member was willing to challenge him over essentially the same man? Was it Louise's plan, and Pent's acceptance of it? Whatever it was, Pent did feel a measure of pity for him because he could not understand the older man. Was his need for a son so overwhelming that he would forsake his daughter and granddaughter for it? His own knightly vows to be true to Etruria?
When her grandfather finally said, "I will make the arrangements for your forces to be brought back to Etruria," Pent released the breath he hadn't even been aware of holding. They were all going home--thank God. Thank God. He looked at Louise and found she was staring up at him with eyes shining with a peculiar wetness, to which he could only smile because, well, he was feeling sufficiently overwhelmed too.
"Thank you, sir," Pent said, meaning every word. Louise's grandfather only nodded at him before returning to the carriage. To Louise, who he had too many words to say and not enough--never enough--time to say them all, he said, "Louise, you're incredible."
"He was more convinced by your last words, Lord Pent," she said with a giggle he suspected was borne out of a rush of relief. "You're different but the same."
"The same could be said of you," he replied, lightly touching the fringe of her bangs with his unoccupied left hand. She giggled harder.
"But I like your long hair."
He withdrew his hand in favor of his own hair, which hung down his neck and continually annoyed him. "You have strange tastes," he informed her with a smile. In response, she looked surprised for a moment before she pouted.
"It does look good. But if it gets in your way..." She let go of his hand and reached behind her head, extracting a long white ribbon from her elaborate hairstyle. This caused the length of her golden hair to fall over her shoulders and back like some sort of fantastical waterfall, but she didn't seem to notice as she held out the ribbon to him. "Here, Lord Pent. For now, you can borrow this."
"Yes," he said, "I intend to be returning home soon, so for now I'll take care of it for you." He took the ribbon from her hand and tied it around his hair in a similar fashion to how some of the men in the company wore their hair; the only thing he could say was that it bothered the back of his neck less, and that was good enough. "Thank you."
"No, it's fine..." Hesitation was plain on her face for a long moment before she reached forward and gave him a quick hug, then withdrew before he could properly return it. It was slightly disappointing, but the bright smile she gave him afterward more than made up for it. "I have to go, but I'll see you soon. Grandfather never dishonors a promise."
He nodded. "Until then, Louise."
He stayed there for some time after she entered the carriage and it began to drive off, watching it grow smaller and smaller, before he made his way down to the isolated beach where the skiff was kept. He wondered what he was going to say to his men, if he should explain the circumstances that had kept them away from any news of their families for so long, how he would answer their questions...
Or, he thought as he absently brought his fingers to his lips to find a smile there, perhaps it would be enough for them to see him like this. All that mattered in the end was the essential truth.
They were going home.
-end-
Series: Fire Emblem 7: Rekka no Ken/The Blazing Sword
Rating: PG
Genre: Drama
Characters: Pent/Louise
(C) Intelligent Systems and Nintendo
Note the First: I use this and this other site for my Victorian flower translations. The second is more thorough than the first.
Summary: The beginning of the end.
Full Bloom, part two: Coltsfoot
(justice be done)
According to the various soldiers of their small force, it was hot and not hot, the bright August days still strangely mild compared to Etrurian summers. That didn't mean that everyone accepted the weather stoically; Pent had the dubious pleasure of receiving any number of complaints with every assignment he put to his men.
"It's too hot to cut firewood, Captain! And anyway, why do we need firewood? It's so hot!"
"Because we require fire to cook meat. Or would you prefer to hunt?"
"Hey Captain, I think the heat is making me sick. That means I don't have to work medic duty, right?"
"It means I can put you on water-gathering duty, actually."
"Captain, you should put me on the fishing crew. You know how good I am with that."
"You've been on it for the last three times. Furthermore, Kellis, don't you think you're setting a poor example here?"
"C'mon, we're all criminals already. This is nothing, yeah?"
Pent refused to admit anything; the truth of the matter was far more complicated than that. If these were Etruria's worst, so terrible they had to be banished across the Miltein Strait, Etruria was truly a blessed kingdom. The only thing that bothered him was the thought of another mutiny, even though it seemed that tensions had lessened. Because he had admitted that he was Count Reglay, though since then he had found out he was believed dead on the mainland, his position felt tenuous--at any time he could be captured and used as a hostage if enough people were of a mind to do it, but at the same time he was worthless as collateral.
Like many things about his past life, he didn't care to think of it much.
-0-
Pent was feeling content, basking in the midday sun as he rubbed his smooth jawline. It was the first time he had shaved in five days--although he hadn't needed it for the first two--and he had to admit that he simply felt more like himself once he was able to perform his toilet, meager as it was on an island far away from home and lacking those noble duties that required him to look immaculate. In a group of men it was almost mandatory to let go of some of his fastidiousness, but considering his hair color he thought it best to ward off any jokes about being an 'old man', if for nothing else than because he would like to retain some respect.
For once, the camp was quiet; anyone with a chore to perform was supposedly out doing it, while everyone still in the camp stayed within their tents and napped away the noontime heat. He was the only one outside, which allowed him to commune with the spirits of nature, few though they were in this place. One brushed across his cheek as a slight breeze and he smiled. Yes, he may have lost his life while still existing in this world, but on a day like this when he could simply rest and indulge in something to do with anima, he could almost accept his lot in the world.
Then the man walked into the camp.
Pent climbed to his feet, warily gazing at the newcomer without making a move that suggested he felt threatened. He was still deciding whether he should be; the man wore the uniform of a high-ranking Etrurian soldier, though he had no armor. Perhaps he was an aide to a ranking officer, but which one? Pent could only remember the lieutenant-general of the magic branch of the military, and that man was not her. If this man was the knight general's, then Pent knew this could become a worse-case scenario in an instant.
The man looked around, clearly unimpressed, then settled his gaze upon Pent. "Your defense is shoddy."
"The resistance group prefers attacking during the evening," Pent said mildly.
"If they are unable to withstand the heat, why not use this weakness to destroy them in their dens?"
"Our orders were to defend Etrurian interests," Pent stated, fresh annoyance causing him to frown. "They were not to annihilate our opposition indiscriminately."
"I see you follow your orders to the letter," the aide said. "You are Pent Martel, Count Reglay?"
"I am. And you are?"
"An aide for the man who wishes to see you." The aide gestured towards the shoreline. "We'll be traversing the strait, so I suggest you inform your comrades."
Pent paused, his natural sense of suspicion growing--he felt he would be a fool to trust without reservations, but there was more than that. "Exactly who do you work for? I know you belong to the military."
"And that is all you need to know. I was ordered to escort you, not to provide all the information you demand. All I can say is that he is your ally for as long as you do not cross him."
"Would I be able to bring another with me?"
"No."
Closing his eyes, Pent brought his hand to his forehead, fingers squeezing the bridge of his nose. It did not help him think with more clarity, nor did the aide's obvious signs of impatience as the other man shifted his weight from one leg to another. "It would be difficult to agree. My life is not only mine; I have to think about the men I lead as well. If you intend to harm me, let me warn you that I will not succumb easily."
The aide only blinked at these words. "I would hope so, Captain. Now, will you go?"
"Let me 'inform my comrades', as you put it," Pent said with the barest hint of humor before he left the aide, walking swiftly towards the tents of his sub-leaders. Kellis was out, ostensibly supervising the water-gathering group, but Henri only nodded thoughtfully when Pent came upon him, his blue eyes still bleary with the remnants of his nap. Pent also had the forethought of informing Simon as well, who only nodded, though his eyes were much sharper. Though Pent wasn't sure what to make of that, he let the priest be before departing with the military aide. The seafaring vessel obtained for their use was no boat but just a skiff, easily maneuverable over the calm waves that comprised the strait; low tide being what it was, Pent hardly had a fear of being splashed as the skiff skimmed over the lazy rolling of the passage waters. They arrived on the beach of the mainland in very little time, though there was still an entire cliff to climb, as the aide stated that the man he served preferred this little-used locale rather than the small port town of Piraeus adjacent to it.
Pent only raised an eyebrow at this, wondering if this man truly intended to appear this suspicious or if it was simply an ill-timed fluke. If it was the latter, it was quite impressive in its own way.
Rude formations that could only be described as rudimentary stairs had been carved into the rock at a sideways angle, parallel to the face of the cliff. It didn't resemble Etrurian design; Pent remembered from his history lessons that the berserkers of the Western Isles had attempted many times in centuries past to invade Etruria. Perhaps this was from one of those attempts. He could only imagine fishermen using it now as a way to avoid the larger ships at the docks. Making his way to the stairs, he noticed that the military assistant wasn't following him. "Won't you be presenting me to your superior?" Pent asked.
The aide shook his head. "He told me this was to be a private meeting. I will tend to the boat."
This did little to quell his suspicions, but Pent decided it would make it easier for him if he didn't feel he had to watch his back. At a time like this he wished for Nestor's presence, though thankfully the man was serving guard duty back at the camp, which allowed Pent to worry only about himself at the moment. While the military aide didn't wear the crest of the hibiscus that was the knight general's family emblem, Pent had also noticed the other man only wore the insignia of the Etrurian military--in other words, he could never be traced back to the actions of his superior.
Why?
For all his thoughts--perhaps paranoia, if only the last eight months hadn't put the lie to that--about danger awaiting him at the top of the cliff, it was surprising devoid of anything threatening. There was a carriage in the distance, and there was someone departing from it, and...?
Pent stilled. He had not noticed any particular degradation of his eyesight, which had always been excellent, but perhaps he would be the last to know about such a thing. This had to be true, because what he was seeing couldn't possibly exist. No matter how much he wanted it to, he was dead to Etruria now.
He was dead to her now.
This is what he believed, but the figure rapidly approaching him had hair the color of the most vivid, blinding gold, and the closer she got the more the flimsy outline of months of thoughts, fantasies, became solid and filled in with the vibrancy that only belonged to her--her.
"Louise," he whispered, and never had such a utterance held such a tangible weight on his tongue.
She stopped mere feet from him, looking up at him with such a sense of expectancy that he was frozen by it. The last fourteen months had changed her for the better in his eyes; there was a maturity to her face that he hadn't remembered from before, a lessening of baby fat that made the shape of her face nearly perfect to his eye. Yet, he could tell by the brightness of her gaze--lavender eyes more vivid in color than any bloom he had seen among the tangled weed-like grass of his campsite--and the eagerness of her smile that she was still the same, wonderful girl he had missed so much. The bow in her hand and the quiver slung along the hip of her elegant, muted dress proved this more than anything else.
Perhaps he had been staring too long, because the expression on her face was dulling in shades, which in turn confused him. "Lord Pent," she said, and he could have sworn that something inside him actually fluttered at the sound of her voice, "it's...I have...you don't seem very, um, pleased to see me..."
He was feeling somewhat wounded by that; there were many other more pleasant greeting words. But someone like Louise thrived on emotion, on the giving and receiving of it, and he understood that he could stand to be more effusive at such a time. And, as well, he had been thinking of doing this for too long.
Crossing the few feet between them, he embraced her.
It was no surprise to him when she stiffened in his very light hold; he had not wanted to startle her, but perhaps he was being too forward? He knew he was not being any more considerate of her when he bent down and murmured, "This may be unpleasant to you, and I apologize, but please allow me this much for just a moment." It was interesting to him when she relaxed afterward, but it was when she leaned into him and wrapped her own arms around his waist just as lightly as his arms wound around her shoulders that he felt...strange. Happy, he supposed.
"It's fine, Lord Pent," she murmured back, "Thank you..."
He hardly believed he was owed any gratitude, but he had no interest in challenging her words; this moment did not deserve the interruption. All he wanted was to drown in the sensation of her body in his arms, from her soft hair against the side of his face to the curves of her body pressed against him to the feel of her hands against his back. Holding, being held...certainly he had felt the spiritual equivalent when communing with the spirits in Etruria, but to readily experience another person in this way deified description. It felt like something he had experienced long, long ago, something that had seeped into his body's memory and was now reawakened--he, perhaps, had reawakened.
Yes, this feeling was not new. It only had been rediscovered and it was...she was...
Everything was fine.
Separating from her had to happen eventually, but he kept his hands on her elbows as he looked down at her--she had grown taller, the top her head reaching his chin, but she was still charmingly petite. Her hands were on his forearms, not any more willing to completely let go than he was, and that too was very charming. "Louise, I have to admit that I'm surprised to see you here. I'm aware of my current status in Etruria," he said, willing himself to focus and get to the heart of the situation.
Her brow furrowed at his words, a determined look on her face now. "I know, but I knew you were alive."
"How long have you known this?"
"...Since your funeral." Something seemed to occur to her, as her eyes widened afterward and she quickly said, "But I spent all my time preparing to come here! I never meant to leave you here, I--"
"I'm not angry," he hurried to reassure her, surprised at her sudden burst of emotion. "You came here, and that is enough."
Her eyes lowered to his coat. "I should have come here sooner, but no matter how hard I trained it didn't feel nearly enough. Your feelings told me that it was very difficult here and that you suffered greatly, so I wanted to make sure I could be the equal of that."
"My feelings?" he asked. Looking up at him again, her vivid eyes held something strange there, almost reverent.
"Yes. When I was overtaken by despair, your feelings came to me and helped me find the power to unlock the truth." This admission surprised him; he vaguely remembered asking the spirits to send his feelings to her at a time when he had no hope left. However, the powers of the spirits in the Western Isles must be even dimmer than he had imagined if it had taken them three months to come to her.
"Unlock the truth?"
"I opened your coffin," she clarified. Pent felt a little bemused at this.
"In front of the entire service?"
She smiled slightly at this. "If I had, then everyone could be persuaded the truth. The knight general put rocks in a coffin he had bought and claimed they were your remains." There was anger, real anger, in Louise's expression as her hands gripped his arms with a surprising strength. "Lord Pent, the knight general plotted everything against you! He--"
"I know, Louise," he said with a quietness that in turn stilled her words. "I know."
"He did it as revenge against Mother."
"No, at least, not completely. He did it because I defied him."
"How?" she asked, a clear innocence to her lovely features that made something inside of him ache to see it. It made him feel glad that he could say the next words to that beautiful face and see the purity of whatever her reaction would be.
"Because I wanted to be with you."
Her mouth made a perfect little 'O' of what he supposed was surprise--he was being awfully bold, but he felt he deserved the right. His time separated from her taught him that only a fool would come away from the experience with his feelings locked down and hidden from those he cared about. To live like Louise did, with her emotions always readily available for others to see, seemed like it could lead to painful experiences, but she had the strength to live by her convictions without hiding them away. He truly admired that, and he would be a poor example of a man to refuse to reciprocate as much as he could.
Besides, she had come to the far reaches of Etruria to find him. With that in mind, a confession such as his would not fall on deaf ears.
A blush suffused her cheeks as she smiled at him, though she wouldn't quite meet his eyes as she said, "Y-yes. I...I also want the same."
To actually hear the words directed towards him was far more satisfying that the assumption of her feelings, and Pent smiled in response. "I'm glad," was all he could think of saying, and perhaps that was enough, for her smile rivaled the sun in its sheer vivacity. He hated to dim her smile, but he had to ask the next question on his mind. "Louise, how did you get here?"
"Ah, my grandfather. Actually," she continued, her smile lessening, "he's waiting for us. He wanted to talk with you."
"Well, let's not keep him waiting," Pent replied, releasing his tentative hold on her in favor of taking her hand in his. He remembered the sensation of walking hand-in-hand with her, and to recover the experience of it made him smile even as they headed towards the carriage where her grandfather awaited them. He had no idea as to the character of her grandfather, but he reasoned that the man had to have something of a good temperament, considering that he came with his granddaughter to this place to seek a 'dead man'. Something bothered him about his assessment and he ignored it, because he felt so, so close to a satisfying conclusion for himself and his men.
It was when he laid eyes on the man that Pent began to rethink his optimism, as Louise's grandfather looked down on him with dark eyes and an impassive face that suggested he thought very little about Pent. When Louise introduced her grandfather as, "Duke Mersey, the former Great General of Etruria," Pent realized that Lady Catherine had once told him that her father had once brought an armed expedition down to Alloway to bring her back, striking down her new husband and only turning back when Count Alloway brought his own forces to bear. All this, for the sake of the man the duke considered a son...the current Knight General of Etruria.
Suddenly, Pent was unsure about the man's willingness to decide anything in his favor.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lord Trent," Pent said after the introductions were finished. "What do you have to speak with me about?"
Louise's grandfather ignored him for his granddaughter. "Louise, wait in the carriage. This business does not concern you." Pent could feel Louise loosen her grip, but he only tightened his as he kept his eyes on the duke.
"I apologize, but I would prefer she stays. As her fiancé, I feel it does concern her as she has valuable information regarding this whole ordeal."
"You are a dead man to Etruria," the duke said. "That means you no longer have a claim to her."
"I'm not dead and have never been. Claims aside, Louise knows as much about the situation and I feel it would be best if she were present," Pent replied in clipped tones, annoyed. Her grandfather only shrugged, as if none of his words mattered, which only served to irritate Pent further. Turning to Louise, he asked her, "What would you like to do?"
There was a queer uncertainty to her manner, so at odds with her usual robust earnestness, that he found himself displeased even when her answer was, "I'd like to stay," in a quiet voice that had all the force of falling leaves in autumn. In the presence of her grandfather Louise became less than she was, what Pent knew her to be, and he had to wonder if he wasn't be the cruel one by keeping her nearby.
Her grandfather ignored her; Pent could see it happen with only a flicker of the elder man's gaze, which was now entirely directed at him. "What do you believe to be the cause of your current situation?" the duke asked, his tone suggesting that Pent couldn't ever really know the truth behind it. Unimpressed, Pent sought to keep his voice mild and emotionless in an effort to restrain himself.
"I believe that the knight general has knowingly contributed to the ordeal my men and I have suffered since January of this year by failing to bring reinforcements after the death of our commander, then refusing to acknowledge our existence by no longer sending supplies to our location. I believe this is because, in part, he was aiding my political enemies in Reglay by assuring that I would no longer return, allowing a claimant with a weak tie to House Reglay to succeed my position as Count Reglay."
"And what would he get out of such an alliance?"
Pent frowned, knowing that the answer was beyond him other than conjectures, but he was saved by Louise's soft voice. "Because he hates Mother, and he hates me by proxy," she answered. "He told Mother that she should understand that he is everything as far as the kingdom goes, and she is nothing. And...I heard a rumor."
"I do not deal in such unreliable things," her grandfather warned, and whatever comfort Pent derived from hearing Louise's voice was immediately banished. He could feel Louise squeeze his hand, perhaps wanting his attention, and he squeezed back and hoped that the action comforted her.
"The former steward of Reglay Castle wrote to me a couple months ago after he settled in his new situation at Caerleon Castle. In passing, he had heard that the knight general's son would be formally announcing his engagement to the niece of Baron Tilley, who was adopted as his daughter, so..." When Louise glanced at him, Pent could see something hesitant and sad in the way her mouth was set. "The knight general's son will then be the next Count Reglay."
The news caused a silence that Pent thought was at least partially in amazement at the sheer nerve of these people. Glancing at Louise's grandfather told him that the man had no idea of this plan, not because of any betrayal of surprise but rather how entirely his expression was shut down, as if it was a wall to all the feelings that dwelt in his heart and mind. He had probably been an excellent great general during his reign, but now as a man living in his retirement it seemed that having such a severe attitude towards life would be more a detriment than a useful quality. But any sense of pity for the man was stopped short when Pent realized something in Louise's narrative. "What do you mean that Raike is now working for Count Caerleon?" he inquired.
"Shortly after Baron Tilley took your position, Master Raike was let go and someone else was placed as the steward," Louise replied, looking troubled. "He wasn't inclined to leave because of his family and his house were all settled, and he did find a place in the mercantile district, but then the city guard because harassing him and Madame Amy over her pegasus, about needing a special license to own one and questioning her loyalties, so they had to move. I asked Nella if she knew of a clerical position in Caerleon and she was able to take in Master Raike and his family, but it's still sad. He wrote that his family had lived in Reglay since they immigrated from Lycia generations ago, and his mother is especially distraught about having to move."
"But you did them an excellent service by securing a position for him," Pent reminded her. "And, as this seems to bear repeating, I'm not dead. Raike and his family will be able to return once I've been legally recognized again."
Louise grinned. "That's true. How wonderful!"
"Before you get carried away, there are still the terms of your return to consider," Louise's grandfather said. Pent stared at him, confused.
"What sort of terms would I need? This is all the fault of a conspiracy of which I and my men are blameless for."
"More or less," her grandfather intoned. "But I will be the one who decides that."
"Grandfather?" Louise questioned, her profile a study of incomprehension. Pent squeezed her hand again, but her grip seemed only to slacken further.
"What are your terms?" Pent asked.
"In exchange for your silence regarding the alleged truth of your detainment, I will have you and the rest of your forces escorted from the island and returned to their homes."
Pent said nothing for a long moment--he was too appalled to do so. To be forced to bargain for what he and his men rightfully deserved was terrible enough, but for the knight general to be allowed to escape from his many crimes in exchange was simply beyond him. How could he even consider such a thing? He and everyone else had suffered so much because of this one man, and now he was to agree to...to this?
He couldn't. He simply couldn't, even knowing what would happen if he refused. To rot away on that island, utterly abandoned by his country, until an inevitable death in battle...that would be his only expectation should he refuse, and yet it was the only option in line with his values. Glancing at Louise was a secret torture he allowed himself, knowing that to refuse would be to give her up forever, yet he could not help himself any more than his body could avoid food and water.
"Grandfather, why would you...how could you do such a thing? I trusted you to help..." Louise spoke, breaking the long silence between the three of them. The very sound of heartbreak was in her voice, and hearing it made something shift inside Pent's mind.
He never wanted to hear her voice sound like that again.
"I require help in return," her grandfather said. "Were the news of this to get out, the people would lose their confidence in not only the Three Generals, but perhaps even the king himself. That would be unacceptable."
"What is unacceptable is to hide the truth of the evils done by any member of the royal court, including the generals. As a knight, you swore certain oaths to both king and country, and disregarding them now for the sake of protecting someone who willingly threw away his own oaths is asinine at best. At worst, it is an action that only proves that Etruria has no right to consider itself a holy kingdom in the following of the saint." Pent could feel his anger rising with every word he said, realizing more and more with every word exactly how terrible the entire situation was. It was that anger that made him demand of the man in front of him, "What would be worth throwing away your honor in such a manner?"
Louise's grandfather was looking down his nose at Pent before he'd even finished talking, and that, combined with the older man's naturally imperious nature, only worked at frustrating Pent further. "It is no such thing," her grandfather stated. "I am offering this deal to you in good faith. If you cannot accept that, then you must know that you are dooming the rest of your men to an ignoble fate. Justice is not about wanton destruction for the sake of revenge."
"And then?" Pent questioned, unable to hide the slight disgust in his tone. "What will you do, should I agree?"
"I will talk to him," the older man declared.
"And?"
"That is all you need to know. It has nothing to do with you."
"It has everything to do with me!" The words burst forth without encountering even a hint of Pent's normal standards of self-control, and he felt no shame in it. "Hasn't anything either of us have said registered at all? That man hasn't committed these crimes out of altruism--he is benefiting in every possible way he can from his actions! If this is not something that should be brought before the king and punished, then what is? Is your friendship with him worth everything Etruria purports itself to be?"
With a short sigh, more of an exasperated huff than one of exhaustion, Louise's grandfather only shook his head. "Perhaps it would be best if you did not return. A count should be more reasonable than a boy throwing temper tantrums. Certainly I would not sanction my granddaughter's marriage to you, after seeing what a poor example of a man you have shown today. Well? What is your final decision?"
Pent did not hesitate. "Your deal is unacceptable and should never have been uttered in the first place. It lowers all of us to have even heard it. I refuse."
"Thank you." To Louise, her grandfather nodded. "Come here. You have much to answer for, requesting that I do so much for such an unworthy boy."
Steeling his heart for the inevitable separation, Pent found it almost difficult to breathe when Louise instead gripped his hand with a surprising strength even for an archer. "I'm not going, Grandfather."
"I shouldn't have to tell you twice--"
"Then please do not. Everything I've done was to reach Lord Pent. If he is staying, then I will too."
"You foolish girl--"
"I don't believe so, not in this case." Pent caught the strained look she gave him before she returned her attention to her grandfather. "Celia, my maid, is already returning to Alloway with a letter I wrote. It's addressed to Mother, and in it there are details of every proof I have regarding the conspiracy surrounding Lord Pent. She will have to believe it, because I will be with Lord Pent. Mother is already writing something that promises to ruin the knight general for good, and this will only spur her forward. Celia is to wait a week before she gives Mother this letter, Grandfather."
Her grandfather only crossed his arms. "And will ruining everything satisfy you, Granddaughter?"
"No, it wouldn't. But the fact that I have planned this much...doesn't that tell you how little I think of your willingness to choose the right path? Doesn't that show that I fully believe you would pick the man you think of as a son over your trueborn daughter?" Louise looked down; to Pent, she looked as though she were reaching the end of her limits, though he had the feeling that she could go much further if she had to. "I don't want to call home an Etruria that has forgotten Saint Elimine's words. Not anymore."
"And so it is more Eliminean to run off to a foreign land with a man who is not your husband."
"Actually," Pent interjected, "there is a priest with our company. He will marry us, if it comes to that. But, speaking respectfully, it doesn't have to. That is up to you to decide what is more important, whether it is family and personal honor, or the friendship of a man who destroys because he can and seeks to gain in any way he can from his malicious actions. All we can do is follow our own path, no matter where you intend to go."
The one thing Pent was fully aware of in the silence that followed was the pressure of Louise's hand in his. Between their hands was a heartbeat, their shared heartbeat, as if the two of them were for once in time with the other. There was no separation, no awkwardness of their earlier times nor the physical distance; there was only him and her, Pent and Louise. It was a very strange thing to realize, but it gave him great comfort at a moment like this.
He wasn't alone.
So he held her hand and she held his, and they waited. Louise's grandfather looked no more troubled than he had before, Pent not having met the man before, but he could sense that the elder man was bothered. Was it that yet another family member was willing to challenge him over essentially the same man? Was it Louise's plan, and Pent's acceptance of it? Whatever it was, Pent did feel a measure of pity for him because he could not understand the older man. Was his need for a son so overwhelming that he would forsake his daughter and granddaughter for it? His own knightly vows to be true to Etruria?
When her grandfather finally said, "I will make the arrangements for your forces to be brought back to Etruria," Pent released the breath he hadn't even been aware of holding. They were all going home--thank God. Thank God. He looked at Louise and found she was staring up at him with eyes shining with a peculiar wetness, to which he could only smile because, well, he was feeling sufficiently overwhelmed too.
"Thank you, sir," Pent said, meaning every word. Louise's grandfather only nodded at him before returning to the carriage. To Louise, who he had too many words to say and not enough--never enough--time to say them all, he said, "Louise, you're incredible."
"He was more convinced by your last words, Lord Pent," she said with a giggle he suspected was borne out of a rush of relief. "You're different but the same."
"The same could be said of you," he replied, lightly touching the fringe of her bangs with his unoccupied left hand. She giggled harder.
"But I like your long hair."
He withdrew his hand in favor of his own hair, which hung down his neck and continually annoyed him. "You have strange tastes," he informed her with a smile. In response, she looked surprised for a moment before she pouted.
"It does look good. But if it gets in your way..." She let go of his hand and reached behind her head, extracting a long white ribbon from her elaborate hairstyle. This caused the length of her golden hair to fall over her shoulders and back like some sort of fantastical waterfall, but she didn't seem to notice as she held out the ribbon to him. "Here, Lord Pent. For now, you can borrow this."
"Yes," he said, "I intend to be returning home soon, so for now I'll take care of it for you." He took the ribbon from her hand and tied it around his hair in a similar fashion to how some of the men in the company wore their hair; the only thing he could say was that it bothered the back of his neck less, and that was good enough. "Thank you."
"No, it's fine..." Hesitation was plain on her face for a long moment before she reached forward and gave him a quick hug, then withdrew before he could properly return it. It was slightly disappointing, but the bright smile she gave him afterward more than made up for it. "I have to go, but I'll see you soon. Grandfather never dishonors a promise."
He nodded. "Until then, Louise."
He stayed there for some time after she entered the carriage and it began to drive off, watching it grow smaller and smaller, before he made his way down to the isolated beach where the skiff was kept. He wondered what he was going to say to his men, if he should explain the circumstances that had kept them away from any news of their families for so long, how he would answer their questions...
Or, he thought as he absently brought his fingers to his lips to find a smile there, perhaps it would be enough for them to see him like this. All that mattered in the end was the essential truth.
They were going home.
-end-