Fire Emblem: Crestfallen [Sharks, Moon, Astoria]

Marlowe

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It was supposed to be a good day.

It was supposed to be a good day, like any other-- she'd wake up, get dressed, have a delicious breakfast, then take a seat on her throne and plan what to do with the rest of her waking hours. When she arrived at the feasting hall robed in a crimson-and-black Grimdallian dress and in a somewhat decent mood, she caught the smell of roasted meats and eggs. The queenly woman sat at the head of the table, her head held high as she waited to be served.

"Good morning, your excellence," murmured an older woman with long, black hair tied up in a tight bun atop her head. "I trust you slept well?"

Sherry would have smoldered in the presence of the other woman if it wasn't for the fact that she was one of her most trusted advisors. The red-haired queen leaned back in her chair and tipped her head up at her, somewhat uninterested in her question.
"It was lovely like always, Tulipana. What brings you here at such a late hour? I would have thought that you had eaten already."

"Well, my liege, I came here to let you know you should expect visitors from out of the country in the next hour or so."

Sherry narrowed her eyes. It was the dead of summer and there wasn't a reason for anyone to come "visit", especially without a reason. Her mood slowly began to sour.

"Before you ask, it seems like our guests are arriving from the north."


"From Mordlind?"


Tulipana said nothing, but Sherry already knew it was true. With how much Galbia had been pressing into Mordlind's territory, it was only a matter of time that someone came around to confront her. It was surprising that they didn't knock on her doors any sooner. That didn't mean that she was in the mood to speak to outsiders, especially when they were nothing more than her enemy. Suddenly, the thought of the roasts and eggs for breakfast didn't seem so appetizing anymore.

How dare they decide to arrive uninvited? Sherry was tempted to have her men cut them down once they reached her borders. It'd be easier for both parties; she'd be rid of the pests, and they wouldn't disturb anyone ever again. It was a win-win.

"I suggest you listen to them, your highness. You might be able to convince them to join you without spilling any more blood. All you would have to worry about then is conquering Cretus, which should be an easy task if you have Mordlind on your side."

She thought about this for a long moment. Tulipana's suggestion was wise, but killing sounded so much more fun. Not to mention those miserable northerners had ruined her breakfast. Sherry sighed.
"Very well. Prepare the guard and tell them to greet our guests at the city limits."
~~~~
An hour passed more slowly than she would have liked. Sherry didn't want to admit it, but it was difficult to not become excited over having guests from Mordlind. Already, she was wondering how she would greet them? Would she play cool and silent? Or would she try to gain their trust by being warm and receptive? She leaned back in her throne, awaiting the arrival of her guests. Surely they would be impressed by the sight of the throne room, which was decorated in crimson and ebony banners. Every once in a while there was a dash of gold, and torches flickered with the flames of Grimdall's blood wyverns.

The guards opened the door. As the small troupe from Mordlind were guided into the room by several Galbian soldiers, Sherry perked up at the sight of a familiar face.


"Theodoric! We haven't seen each other in what, two, three years?" She grinned at him as she placed her elbow on the armrest and leaned her cheek against her palm. "To what do I owe this wonderful occasion? Have you been enjoying your time in Galbia?"

 
Three years. Three long years since everything had went wrong. Since the world had gone mad. And now this. Yhriel above, he didn't want to do this. The last thing Theodoric wanted was to confront a former classmate and friend over her attempting to conquer his homeland. But it had to be done. Despite everything, he likely had the best chance at convincing Sherry to stop this madness. Parthenia would have been a better talker, but at this point, Doric doubted she even wanted the chaos to end. After all, this sort of environment was what she thrived in.

As they approached the throne room, Theodoric resisted the urge to stroke his beard out of habit. It was a nervous tic, and indulging in it would do nothing for him at the moment. The captain of his bodyguard noticed, though.

"Sire?" Ser Falwyn peered at his liege, more than familiar with the man's habits by now.

"Nothing to be concerned over, Captain." Duke Theodoric replied quickly, his gaze set on the doors of the throne room. "It's simply been quite a few years since I've been here last." A wordless glance passed between the men, before Doric's bodyguard captain simply nodded, his gaze determined. He knew what was at stake here.

As the Mordlind troupe entered the throne room, Doric took note of the chamber and its occupants, his gaze passing over the guards before finally settling on Sherry. Well. She seemed physically healthy, at least. As a friend, that was good. As the duke of House Marlon? That was...not optimal.

He approached the throne, a sheathed Brave Sword at his side. Thankfully, the guards had the sense to not confiscate a high lord's weapon, though even if they did, he wasn't incapable of defending himself. Blaze and bolt would have sufficed to preserve his safety, no matter how much he preferred to wield a blade in tandem with them. The fact that it wasn't Imperius sheathed at his side, however, still rankled.

"Three years, Lady Grimdall." Theodoric gave a brief incline of his head. "Forgive me for not keeping in contact since our days at the Monastery. After my father's...passing, there were a significant amount of affairs to bring into order." He very tacitly kept the rage from his tone at the mention of what had happened out of his voice.

"Allow me to dispense with the rest of the pleasantries. As I recall, you never were particularly fond of them. I will be blunt: we both know why I've come. And I implore you to reconsider your plans, Sherry. Both of our lands, both of our nations, we share the same enemy. We saw the enemy, three years ago. Mordlind is not your foe. Continue on like this, and you risk weakening both your own nation and a key ally in needless bloodshed. What say you, Lady Grimdall?"
 
Sherry chose to listen to Theodoric's plea without interrupting. Her old friend had always been good with words, leading him to become one of the academy's shining stars during their time there. As he spoke, however, the smile quickly fell from her lips as her brows knitted together. That was very much like him; getting straight to the point instead of beating around the bush. His blunt way of speaking irritated her. What did he think she was, a fool? She had earned her place on this throne-- he had no right to speak to her in such a way.

"Firstly, Theodoric, you shall address me by Queen and nothing else. Secondly, what makes you think I'm interested in fighting that beast at Irinduil? Contesting it is futile, and it leaves my nation alone as long as I don't meddle with it," Sherry spoke in a harsh tone, as if she was a mother scolding a child. It was obvious that Theodoric was already testing her patience. "Watch your tongue, Marlon. You act as if Galbia cannot hold its own against Mordlind. I remind you that this nation has been a nation of conquerors for as long as Musentia has existed. If you do not relinquish your title and swear fealty to Galbia, I will cut you down myself."

Sherry sat upright in her throne now, her emerald eyes smoldering down at Theodoric as the remnants of her words echoed around the throne room. There was a slight rustle of armor and cloth as the Grimdallian guards stationed at the back of the room shifted nervously. She was confident that they would pounce upon Theodoric and his men if she gave the word to do so. A cruel smirk crossed her features.

"Now, now, I am not so low as to slay you here where you stand. You are my guest, after all. If Mordlind is to fall under my rule, I might as well prove that I can be a merciful queen. If you would kneel before me at this very moment and pledge your allegiance to Galbia, I will promise you a position as one of my trusted generals. What say you, Duke Theodoric?"


 
Theodoric allowed a deep frown to cross his face as his worst-case scenario came to pass. He'd wished it wasn't also the most likely scenario, but Yhriel always seemed to spite him whenever Sherry was involved. Damn it all. Every single time, in every instance of this situation in his life, he couldn't seem to make Sherry see reason.

Still, deep down within himself, Theodoric was tempted. It would be the easiest solution. As his bodyguard retinue took position behind him in a half-circle, leaving the space between himself and Sherry free, he briefly considered simply bending the knee. First and foremost, he had a responsibility to the people of his own lands. Duty dictated that he preserve their lives and livelihoods first, and fighting a disadvantaged war was in no way fulfilling such. The thought of both his father and Marlon himself stopped Theodoric from kneeling immediately, however.

Perhaps it was pride. Perhaps it was simply not wishing to enter the history books as a traitor to his nation and Marlon's legacy. Or perhaps he simply had no wish to indulge Sherry's insanity one last time.

Theodoric stood where he was, and made no move to bend the knee.

"I cannot do that, Queen Sherry." He shook his head sadly as his men lowered their hands to their swords, though they didn't draw yet. "If you refuse to stand against Irinduil, our paths diverge. You know who killed my father. Who stands as the witch's right hand even now." He narrowed his eyes, finally allowing some of the venom and fury he felt up to the surface.

"Gwendolyn Lavoire forfeited any blood ties to House Marlon the moment she cut down Lionel Emoire Marlon. I will have justice for him. If you are unable to give me that, I am unable to join you." Theodoric snarled, his eyes cold.

There. If vengeance didn't make Sherry feel any amount of sympathy to his cause and allow him to walk freely, nothing would. That, and it had an added benefit of being entirely truthful. Still...what lingering sentiment remained within Theodoric caused him to attempt reason with Sherry once more. Perhaps for the final time.

"I made no secret of my intent when I left Mordlind. My absence will be missed. Cut a high lord of Mordlind down in your halls, and you'll unite every single one of them against Galbia in an instant. To say nothing of your willingness to betray those you've extended hospitality to. Is that what you want, Queen Sherry? To become as reviled as your father?"
 
For a long moment, nothing happened. Sherry watched Theodoric coolly, confident that at least some of her words struck home. There was a change to his demeanor; was he going to take her advice and simply bend the knee? The thought thrilled her. Theodoric Marlon, bending the knee to her. It was like a dream come true. All of the fun she could have with him-- he'd be naught but a puppet on a string. She was sure she could mold him however she wished if he were to lay his head low.

But Theodoric didn't move. He simply stood there.

The sight made her heart rise to her throat and her stomach churn. All of their lives, Theodoric had stood defiant against her. He did the same thing now. Nothing had changed. His words, however pained they sounded, only fueled the fire that built up in her. He really was an idiot... a brainless fool who thought too much of himself in situations like this.

She had been relatively able to keep her cool during Theodoric's explanations and reveries. However, the moment that he mentioned her father is when Sherry's cool-headed facade dropped entirely from her being. The queen bristled before him, her eyes wild with rage.


"How dare you," Sherry snarled like a blood-lusted wyvern. If she had had her lance on her, she would have charged him where he stood.
"How dare you speak to me in such a way in my very court! I should slay you where you stand, honor or no honor, you damned plague-ridden beast!"

"If you insist on continuing to serve under Mordlind's banner, then so be it. But know this, Marlon-- the next time we meet, it shall be as enemies."
she spat. "You won't receive any mercy from me. I will hunt you down on the battle field and run you through with my lance. I will take your life with my own hands, and after your death, Mordlind will be at my feet!"
 
One last throw of the dice, and it had failed. Theodoric had tried the one tactic he'd never attempted with Sherry: a low blow. Perhaps this said more about his rhetorical abilities than it did her mental state. Or maybe she was always this unstable, and he'd just been willingly blind.

As Sherry's ire grew, Theodoric's cooled. Once she'd finished her rant, he simply stared calmly at her.

"I invite you to try." Was all he said as he gave Sherry a courtly bow before turning to leave. Against the protests of his bodyguard, Theodoric pushed his way past them, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword as magical sparks danced in his other hand.

"Gentlemen," Duke Theodoric said coldly to the guards, his gaze promising violence should they get any ideas above their station. "We will be taking our leave now. Our regards to your liege lady."

Once Doric and his retinue were out of the throne room, they made a hurried pace towards the city gates, constantly on the lookout for any sign of a pending attack until they'd reached their mounts.

___

A few miles outside the city proper, Theodoric finally let loose the breath he'd been holding, exhaling a relieved sigh as they rode through the blistering Galbian heat.

"Well. At least we're not dead. Congratulations, men. It seems you won't be needing those wills of yours for some weeks yet." Theodoric said dryly to his bodyguards, receiving at least a few laughs from the men in return.

"My lord, if I may..." Sir Falwyn spoke up from his position riding at Doric's side. "You were friends with that woman? Truly?" He murmured, shaking his head as if in disbelief that the queen of Galbia was a raving madwoman.

"Before, yes." Theodoric replied ruefully as they continued on towards cooler climes. "Even three years ago, things were...better. The current Archbishop's rise destroyed many things."

"You'll not have to tell me twice, sire. I want that pretender to the Archbishop's seat dead as much as you." Sir Falwyn nodded with conviction. As Doric recalled, the captain's brother had been a knight of the Church. Evidently, the poor man had died in the chaos surrounding...that day. And Sir Falwyn had blamed Archbishop Iris since.

"I know. We will have justice, Captain. For all we've lost because of her." Theodoric spoke with conviction, cracking the reins on his steed as they rode along.
 
Sherry's eyes remained glued on Theodoric as he bowed before her. His words were sharp like daggers, which was to be expected-- he always had a sharp tongue. She said nothing as the Mordlind men left the throne room, but her temper was dangerously close to boiling over. Her men were prepared to pounce on the departing party whenever she so pleased. All she had to do was give a silent command and they would attack them from behind.

She caught Tulipana's warning glance from the side. Of course the other woman would be so keen as to ruin her fun. When they were finally alone, Tulipana approached her.

"Well, that could have gone better."


"The Marlon boy knows how to get on my nerves."

"Try your best to withstand his prodding. He wants to get a reaction from you. He may do the same on the field, so I suggest you try to keep yourself composed during battle."

A long sigh left Sherry's lips as she placed her cheek in her palm.

"Now that that's over with, we might as well head to the war room and plan out our next steps. There's no doubt that they will do the same."


"Very well," Sherry muttered as she rose from her throne. Her legs felt somewhat unsteady as she went to leave the room. It looked like her emotions had really gotten to her a few minutes ago... "Let us get this over with..."

~~~~

One week later...

Sherry sat tall in her wyvern's saddle, both of them clad in shining, dark gray armor as she flew above the snowy fields of House Ciran's territory. Men and women clashed below her, Galbians and Mordlinders wetting their blades with each other's blood. A cacophony of screams rang out from the heated battle as both armies fought tooth and nail for not only their lives, but their families' and comrades' as well. By the end of the spat, many of Mordlind's soldiers would lie dead in the snow.

"Leave no one alive! I have no use for prisoners!" The Queen of Galbia roared as she flew closer to the battle. Her wyvern landed upon the snow with a guttural bellow. "Stain the snow red with their blood!"

As soon as her wyvern's claws had touched the snow, a horse-mounted soldier clad in Mordlind's colors charged at her from the fray. The nameless man's hand brandished a silver sword as he pelted towards her, but Sherry's wyvern was quick. The beast snarled as it lashed out with its broad wing, knocking the man off of his horse and sending him tumbling to the frosty field. Sherry grinned down at her quarry, not even bothering to give him a moment to react before her lance penetrated the gap between the soldier's chin and collarbone. Blood spilled from his mouth as she dug deep into his throat, grinning wildly as he shuddered and then fell still. Her lance was dyed crimson when she pulled it from the corpse at her feet.

"Are you hiding, Theodoric?!" Sherry howled above the clamor of battle. "Show yourself, you coward! I'll slaughter every single one of these men until I find you!"


 
They'd planned for this. He'd coordinated with Parthenia for this exact scenario. House Ciran was always going to have been first in Mordlind's line of defense against Galbia, and Theodoric had ridden straight for their lands the moment he could, sending for his men via messenger. And now here they were.

In Sherry's haste to do battle, she'd dangerously overextended her lines. Since the moment his scouts had reported a Galbian army setting foot on Mordlind soil, this was what Theodoric had been building up to. The majority of House Marlon's men and House Ciran's infantry held the front line. Meanwhile, a significant amount of both horse cavalry and pegasi led by Parthenia would assault Sherry's supply lines and her rear guard while she was distracted leading the charge.

"Lord Marlon!" A messenger bearing House Ciran's colors dismounted from his horse, kneeling before Theodoric as he watched over the battle. "Lady Ciran sends her regards! She reports that the Galbians' supply lines have been destroyed and that they move on the rear guard now!"

"Good. Now we can finish this." Theodoric nodded his thanks at the messenger, dismissing him before turning to his men. "Form up! We end this battle here! For Marlon! For Ciran! For the Concorde!" He roared, drawing his Brave Sword and rearing his horse up.

---

Sherry's call was met by a Thoron bolt, tearing through one of the bodyguard around her. In the distance was Theodoric and his bodyguard retinue of mounted knights, surrounded by units of Paladins and Cavaliers. A cold glare was all Theodoric afforded her before turning his steed on a dime, gesturing for those around him to do so as well. Theodoric and his retinue rode off at a canter, without a second glance afforded behind them in an obvious dismissal.

Meanwhile, the remainder of the mounted cavalry he brought charged, warhorses racing at a full gallop towards the lines of the Galbian army. Lances crashed into Galbian soldiers, the steeds bearing them trampling infantry as they tore through the already weakened front line.
 
Sherry's lance had just sunk into the chest of another Mordlind soldier when she saw a beam of lightning cut the wind and tear into the form of one of the Galbian men beside her. The blow killed him instantly; his mangled, burnt body dropped to the ground without an ounce of life in it. There were only a few spellmancers that could summon such an attack. She whirled around to face the new apparition, her gaze wild with fury as she met Theodoric's glare across the field. Grinding her teeth, she yanked on the reigns of her wyvern and positioned herself to chase after the man and his cavalry.

The rest of his mounted units, however, chose to charge towards them. Before she knew it, many of the men on her front lines were being trampled under the weight of furious hooves and impaled by lances. Sherry growled a curse as she once again took to the sky in order to avoid the onslaught. The sight of crumpled Galbians splayed on the ground made her rage burn brighter.

"Queen Grimdall!" shouted another wyvern rider as he soared to her side. Several others followed closely behind. "Our supply line's been compromised! I suggest we pull back and regroup!"


Damn it all... I'll kill him! Sherry scowled at the news. Of course Theodoric had planned something like this.

"No! If we retreat now, this will all have been for nothing!" Sherry cried out over the clamor of battle. She pointed her bloody lance towards Theodoric's fleeing figure. "Follow me! We'll hunt them down like the cowards they are! If we kill them, the battle will be won!"

She spurred her wyvern to fly after them, knowing that her wyvern squad was close behind her. Victory was so close-- so close! When they won here, more of Mordlind's territory would fall beneath Galbian rule. They were almost upon them now, just a bit closer and they'd all be within their range-

Arrows suddenly shot through the air and streaked towards the wyverns that flew above. They dug into several of the wyverns' tender wing membranes, and the wyverns screeched as man and beast collided with the ground. Sherry's eyes went wide when she saw another volley strike her own wyvern's wings, and her mount wrenched to the side in agony.
"No!" Sherry screamed as her steed lost control of its flight. Before she knew it, the wyvern careened towards the field along with the rest.

The force of the impact was jarring, but it did not throw Sherry very far from her saddle. Instead, the wyvern fell to the ground and made her tumble from her seat, though the beast rolled over onto her leg in a violent fashion. Sherry cried out with pain and frustration as she found herself trapped beneath the motionless beast. Her lance had slid only two or three feet away from reach of her hands.

Sherry ground her teeth together, dazed from the anger and frustration, but mostly from the pain that rocketed up and down her leg, all the way up to her hip. It was definitely broken, though she'd definitely be able to fight. She just had to get out from beneath the stupid wyvern...
 
Theodoric watched dispassionately from afar as his ambush played out exactly as he'd thought it would. It was...disappointing. After everything that had happened at the Officers' Academy, all they'd learned, Sherry was still so easily baited into a textbook trap. Thankfully, Professor Juno wasn't here to see how bad of a job Sherry had done at internalizing every lesson she'd ever been taught. With a sigh, Theodoric kicked his steed into motion, gesturing for his men to advance on the downed Queen of Galbia and her dying entourage.

"Spread out. Bind the Queen and have her most pressing wounds treated before bringing her back. We need her alive." He commanded to his men. "Give clean deaths to any of her riders that can't be saved. Take the rest prisoner."

"Yes, lord!"
Several knights cried in unison as they approached, dismounting from their steeds and beginning to carry out the duke's orders. Meanwhile, Theodoric slid off his horse as well, his sword in hand as he slowly approached Sherry along with a few of his men.

"This is over, Queen Grimdall." Doric spoke, kicking her lance away as his men began to extricate her out from under her dying wyvern. "Your forces are routed, and I have you at swordpoint. Surrender to me, and you'll be treated well."

As his knights began to tie Sherry up while performing what battlefield medicine they could on her wounds, Theodoric turned to another of his knights, still mounted.

"Send word to the unit commanders. I want casualty reports within the hour. We've lost too many men in a battle that never should have happened in the first place."
 
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Sherry glowered up at the men that approached, seething with rage when Theodoric kicked her lance away. Was this it? Was this really the end for her? Yet, her foe made no move to kill her. His men didn't, either. Instead, they focused on pulling her out from under the unconscious wyvern and moved to tend to her wounds. At this point, she was a bit too dazed to offer up much resistance. Other than struggling slightly in their grip for a moment, she only surrendered when they tied rope around her.

"I will never surrender to the likes of you,"
Sherry hissed at his words as she was brought to her feet. Even though her minor wounds were wrapped in bandages, the pain that razed her leg was almost too much to handle. But the woman stood tall in front of Theodoric, the fire within her still burning bright as ever. As if to affirm her previous statement, she launched a thick globule of spit at his feet. "Best kill me now. Keep me alive, and you'll be making the worst mistake of your life."
 
Stupid. Silly. Simpleminded.

Sherry.

Of all of her former classmates, Parthenia had always been the most unhinged one at school. She knew; she had always been good at introspection. If there was anybody in the Red Chimeras that was going to go supremely off into the deep end, it was most likely herself. Despite the mess three years ago, she would never have thought she would have been the sane one, cleaning up Sherry’s mess together with Dory. Yet, here she was, on the battlefield, defending her own territory from her erstwhile red-haired friend’s invasion.

And Sherry had already done her dirty. It wasn’t even a good one. When in history, exactly, had an enemy army actually been smashed right at the border?

The plan was simple. The main body of her own troops would hold together with House Marlon’s as the primary defending army, with Theodoric in command. Parthenia had command of a second, mobile force of horse and aerial cavalry. She would hold back until Sherry’s forces were committed, before swinging back into her rear in a classic envelopment tactic. Dory would be the anvil; Parthenia was the hammer.

It was risky, all things considered. Parthenia was primarily working with a cavalry force, which could still be broken with a well-coordinated pike-and-archery counterattack if their gambit was exposed. Except, she hadn’t actually expected Sherry to overcommit to the point that she could hit her supply train with impunity while also overwhelming her rear. It was still little compensation for all the blood spilled in her territory, and by her people.

Parthenia glided through the air atop her armored Pegasus, taking the position of squadron leader in classic House Ciran finger-four formation. Looping and dancing through the sky, she kept up a dogged aerial fight against a rapidly loosening formation of wyvern knights. Below, her Mordlind cavalry smashed into the undefended rear of the Galbian forces. The poor infantry didn’t have the time to turn around and face the new threat. For them, it was bloody, and chaotic—yet they still had a chance. Sherry still had wyverns in reserve to break just that sort of ambush, but that was what Parthenia and her elite Pegasus knights were here for.

She made a hand-signal for her knights to follow, and she dived on an unsuspecting group of wyvern knights with a cry. They just needed a little push, and the battle was theirs. “Come, knights! Mop up the sky!” Leading with her lance and the superior maneuverability of her lighter unit, the tip of her weapon crashed into an unsuspecting knight and dismounted him. Unable to recover in time, mount and rider alike crashed into the Galbian lines, crushing an entire squad of infantry, and at that moment, the enemy finally began to rout.

But, sandwiched between the two intact Concordian forces, there was nowhere to retreat to. The battle now was tantamount to wanton slaughter.

With a nearly disappointed look on her face, she formed up alongside one of her Pegasus knights. “Inform Dory,” she ordered, almost flippantly. She had always disliked referring to her peers with formality, and a war wasn't about to stop her now. “Battle here is over. We’re wrapping up, I’ll be along shortly after I have the surrender of the rearguard commanders.”
 
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"No, I don't think I will." Was all Theodoric said in response to Sherry's rant before he raised his sword. The hilt slammed into Sherry's skull, knocking her unconscious for the moment. With that particular annoyance silenced for now, Theodoric looked over his men going about their duties for a moment before he noticed a pegasus rider descending from the sky. His grip on his sword tightened for an instant before the colors of House Ciran were visible on the woman.

"Duke Theodoric, Duchess Parthenia is pleased to inform you that the Galbians have been fully routed. She will be returning to camp once she has the rear guard commanders in tow."

"Understood."
Theodoric nodded in satisfaction. "Relay a message back. I have Queen Sherry in my custody as a prisoner. I'll be happy to convene with Duchess Parthenia at her earliest convenience."

As the pegasus knight flew off, Theodoric gathered his men up and back onto their mounts, sheparding their prisoners along as they returned to their base camp.

---

Back at camp, Theodoric sat in his tent, dictating orders to a trusted lieutenant.

"Ser Alric, you and your men are to escort the queen of Galbia to Castle Marlon at all possible speed. She is to be kept in comfortable enough conditions as befitting any noble prisoner of war. However, I want a rotating guard around her room at all times. Anything that can be used as a weapon is to be confiscated from her quarters, and nothing of the sort is to be brought in, either. You have my express permission to use your personal judgement in this case until I return to the castle. Am I understood?"

The knight captain saluted and quickly left the tent, leaving Theodoric to stew over his thoughts as he summed up the casualty reports he'd been given in his head. While it was good that they'd nipped an invasion in the bud during its first battle, that was still a loss of men that could have been directed towards Induril Monastery in the future. This close to the monastery, the end goal was in sight, but stayed so far out of reach. Frustrating.

The duke sighed, taking a sip of coffee from the steaming cup that had been left on his desk. All that was left to do at the moment was wait for Parthenia to return, and discuss where to go from here.
 
Parthenia sniffed in displeasure as she realized her mistake. She had sent the wrong knight. That one actually had proper etiquette training.

She broke off from combat with her remaining squad of two falcon knights, surveying the closing moments of the battle. With it being a foregone conclusion, the cavalry commanders on the ground were finally putting an effort to stop the murder and pillaging of the remaining soldiers as they began surrendering en masse. Unlike a certain enemy commander, she actually did have use for prisoners. She was going to extract as much blood out of a stone as she could in the form of ransom, as much as she wanted exact retribution in other, more permanent ways for invading her land and harming her subjects. No, as distasteful as the whole ordeal was, she was going to get as much out of it as possible.

She continued to observe, a few other messenger knights flitting back and forth to her from the ground relaying information as she did. Soon, her missing member returned with information from the front, seamlessly falling back into formation. “Milady. Duke Theodoric has Queen Sherry in custody. The battle is won.”

Parthenia sniffed again. She’d half expected Sherry to fall on her sword before letting herself be captured. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to take it as good news, or bad news. She decided to insult her competence instead. “Sad. Right then, let’s tally up the harvest, shall we?”

---

“Yoohoo, Dory. I heard you’ve got everything squared away nice and tight here?”

Parthenia ducked into the main tent a little while later, offering a casual wave and greeting as usual. She was still wearing her battle armor, tidied up a bit, and holding a steaming wooden cup of tea from… somewhere. She made herself comfortable on a nearby free chair, and immediately began nursing that cup.

“We got the whole baggage train, and then some. It'll take my men a while yet to get a proper inventory of prisoners and captured supplies." She frowned. "You know, I’m actually appalled that Sherry made it that easy.” She’d been given the rundown on the casualties, too. The cavalry and Pegasus knights had gotten off relatively light, given that they’d flawlessly executed that ambush, but the consequences were far higher casualties on Theodoric’s side as they’d taken the brunt of the fighting. Annoyingly enough, it was larger than she’d thought, but on the other hand, the invasion was stopped in its tracks and they’d also captured a not-insubstantial war chest out of the whole thing.

“Speaking of which, how is our new guest doing?”
 
At this point, Doric had long since given up on trying to correct any of Parth's idiosyncracies. He simply tolerated it, instead. Thus, when she burst into his tent with nothing but a casual remark, he barely reacted, simply nodding at her in acknowledgement.

"Unconscious. I knocked Sherry out upon capturing her, and she's not woken yet. She'll be sent along to my castle soon. I intend to keep her prisoner for now. A ransom for a queen will be substantial. I aim to empty her treasury and cripple any financial standing she has remaining. She'll not be able to wage another invasion without gold to pay, arm, and feed her troops."

Theodoric took another sip of his coffee, savoring the rich flavor before continuing on.

"I trust that the horse cavalry I lent to your command are relatively intact? As easily as the battle ended, holding the Galbians' front line in place has cost me a significant portion of my heavy infantry. And harvest season is coming up, so I can't levy more men from the peasantry yet without risking losing food for the winter." He sighed at the thought, allowing some of his frustrations to come to the surface.

"Parth," He turned to face her, his use of her nickname far more uncommon now than it used to be. "Where did all of this go wrong? Us three, we were friends once. Even before the Monastery. We'd grown up together. And yet we've just finished waging war." Doric set his coffee down, the taste suddenly ashes in his mouth. The Theodoric of better times, ridden with doubts, insecurities, and consideration, rose to the surface once more.

"A part of myself regrets not simply killing her then and there. I don't know if anything of Sherry can be salvaged from the disaster she is now. But...I couldn't bring myself to do it. I'm already sworn to kill my sister. Am I wrong for not wanting to add one of my oldest friends to the blood I have to shed?"
 
“Probably for the better. I can’t imagine that going smoothly otherwise,” she murmured, sipping on her hot beverage. “Good plan, though. I like it.” She nodded in agreement on his thoughts of economic warfare. It was a very Cretian style of thinking, she realized. Her eyes flickered bitterly at the memory of the destruction of the mercantile nation and the horrors that followed.

“Don’t worry. I took good care of them. You can’t really fight back when you’re already getting lanced in the back, after all. I bet they took more casualties from accidents rather than from Galbians,” she boasted. And it was basically true. Once an infantry line lost its cohesiveness, pitting them against heavy cavalry was… not pretty for anybody not on a horse. Then, she frowned. “I’m not going to like the final butcher’s bill for my own infantry, am I? Bloody Sherry.” If Theodoric was already complaining at the preliminary casualties, then it was likely her share of losses would be proportionally worse, considering that the fighting was on her territory and she had fronted more men. Unfortunate.

“Fuck if I know,” she commiserated, turning more serious. “I liked our time at the academy. I miss those days already.” She tipped her cup back. At least the taste of her drink was still good for her. “The Pretender was the perfect rallying call. A united Musentia, a common enemy, the perfect casus belli. War was always inevitable, it was just supposed to be against her, not between Sherry and us,” she agreed.

“No. You’re not. She was my friend too, as much I liked to bully her. I’m not sure if you made the right decision, despite how badly she blundered. It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this, so I can’t blame you.”
 
Sherry woke up with a jolt, and instead of finding herself laying in a field of snow, she realized that she was laying upon soft cushions. It was quiet, too quiet... was she in an infirmary? Where was she? The young woman groaned as she sat up, ignoring the dull ache in her leg. Her body felt heavy and fatigued, but... why was she in a room she didn't recognize? It wasn't even outwardly fancy, as would be expected from a royal suite. There was just a bed, some drawers, a mirror and a window...

How long had she even been out?

Sherry began to panic. Tossing the covers away, she rose from the cot and stumbled over to the window. She noticed that her breath fogged on the glass, but paid it no mind for now. Instead, her eyes focused on the world outside. Snow. More snow, and buildings she didn't recognize.

She wasn't in Irinduil.

A splitting headache began to shoot through the inside of her skull, and for a brief moment, Sherry felt faint. She leaned against the drawer and pushed her face into her palm as she tried to regain her bearings. What happened? Why was she here? The headache only became worse, so much so that she felt physically ill. Sherry staggered back to the bed and sat down on the edge, once again putting her head in her hands. There was a battle, but where?
 
By the time they'd returned to his home, Theodoric wanted nothing more than to simply return to his chambers and sleep. Still, there were things to account for before he could rest. Petitions from the peasantry recorded during his absence, accounts of the ongoing growing season, and budgetary concerns. To say nothing of the need to check up on Sherry now that she'd been moved to the castle.

It was that final task that Theodoric finally set out on after finally catching up on the domestic affairs of Marlon lands that he'd missed over the past weeks. He approached the room that had been laid out for Sherry, returning the salutes of the pair of guards outside with a nod.

"At ease. No issues as of yet?"

"None, sire."

"Carry on, then. I'll be seeing the prisoner myself."


He brushed past the guards, entering Sherry's room and closing the door behind him. Surprisingly enough, she was bent over the drawer in pain instead of immediately trying to strangle him with her bare hands as he'd expected. Surely he hadn't struck her that hard while knocking her out, had he?

"I see you're awake, Sherry. Apologies for rendering you unconscious, but I could have done worse. Not feeling well, I take it?"
 
Before long, a visitor stepped into the room. Sherry looked up from her vulnerable state to see that the person that had decided to stop by was no other than Theodoric himself. Beneath the haze that clouded her brain, she felt a sharp stab of fury. His words fell upon deaf ears as she straightened up. It felt so much more clear now. There had been a battle, and he had resorted to some dirty strategy to defeat her on the field. Her face contorted with hate and anger.

"You..."
she hissed as she stormed over to him as quickly as she could in her state. Reaching out, she grabbed hold of his collar in an attempt to get a better hold of him. "Where am I?! How dare you take me somewhere without me knowing! Take me home this instant, or I'll-"

Another bolt of pain. Sherry faltered, grasping the side of her head as she glared up at him. "I can't..." she muttered between grit teeth. "I can't remember..."
 
Sadly enough, the fact that Sherry had recovered enough to attempt to throttle him was actually somewhat of a comfort. One which swiftly faded away as she stumbled in pain. Theodoric found himself instinctively reaching to steady Sherry, grabbing onto her and helping her stay standing. What was going on? He knew he hadn't struck her with enough force to concuss her this badly. Had he? Either that, or this was some sort of ploy. But considering how the last battle had just ended, it was highly doubtful that Sherry would attempt subterfuge now after showing that she had no capacity for it.

"Calm down. You're in my home, Silese Citadel. You've been here before, Sherry." Theodoric said calmly, helping her to a chair. "If I thought less of you, I'd assume you were faking this. And I know I didn't strike you that forcefully during the battle. Sherry. What do you remember?"