[M] War and Peace ~ Breggo and Hannelorian [IC]

[Breggo13]

Marcus didn’t seem present anymore - he moved to do as he was told but it seemed that a part of him, a painful agonizingly large part, remained with Quinn. For the first time in his life, the warrior was completely and utterly terrified and, what only made the aggravation worse, he could do absolutely nothing about it. When he had fought on the Southern front with his friends and brothers-in-arms, he had seen death frequently enough to become decesitized to it. What was another lost sole in a battle for innocents, for the women, children and parents remaining home? As Alistair ascended the throne, Marcus had stepped into the shadows, tethering on the border of wrong and right. In a way, he too had become a shadow, a shade that was morally grey at best and flowed through life on a rather loose definition of morals. But even then, Marcus had never felt fear because he knew what he had to do to survive, to win, to thrive. Looking at Quinn’s form on the ground, he felt the world around him crumbling.

He floated above the ground, the pain and fear becoming trapped in his body and his mind doing the only thing it could - escaping. He was no longer present, he was a third party observer just going to meet his beasts, his face ashen and emotionless. Marcus didn’t blink an eye as Beatrix rushed forward to embrace him, didn’t respond. He couldn’t even feel the young woman’s warmth, his body frozen and senseless. With a sigh, he pushed out of her embrace.

“I have work to do,” his voice was hallow, hoarse as though he hadn’t used it for years. Not bothering to acknowledge the woman, he continued towards Ulrich and Vixen, the bright red mane of hair acting as his destination. One day in the future, he would remember how Beatrix’ action had caused Quinn pain and he would forgive her, knowing Quinn would want him to be happy. One day but today, he simply had to make it through. Out of nowhere, he sensed someone materialize beside him and a strong hand land on his shoulder.

“Tell me how to help,” Julius’ sea-green eyes were unnervingly serious, his usual expression of mirth replaced by that of a hardened warrior who knew how to get things done, his hair tied back into a small queue, something he did only when he was preparing for work. Nodding silently, Marcus gripped his brother’s forearm.

“Master, you called?” Ulrich tilted his head in curiosity, his golden eyes and elongated irises flashing with excitement. Beside him, Marcus sensed Julius reaching for a weapon but putting his hand on the younger man’s arm, he shook his head. The animal grins that illuminated his beasts and the hyena laugh that sounded from the back made it clear that the changelings found the fear and discomfort amusing.

“They’re friends Jules,” the rogue smiled sadly. “The ones who can be loyal.”

“Yes, Jules,” Vixen smirked, her eyes running up and down the islander with curiosity as though she was evaluating a horse at the market. Licking her lips, she moved to lean in close. “I can be very loyal.”

“And I’m the queen of Lys,” Julius responded cooly, not moving away but shooting the woman a cold gaze, one that only made her laugh. “Marcus, time.”

“Time, milord?” Ulrich’s head moved to the other side, resembling an owl. Julius’ eyebrows came together but Marcus remained unmoved. Even without his current disassociation, he had spent enough time with the band’s alpha to know all his tricks. By now, none of the changelings bothered to play games with the rogue but with a new audience who was so clearly unnerved, it seemed all the more entertaining. “Time is of the essence, tick tok, tick tock.”

“We need to get these people back to the palace,” for the first time in their rather long relationship, Marcus wasn’t trying to beat around the bush, to make the men and women that worked for him operate in half truths. He was too tired to care, dangerous as it was. The faster he could get this done, the sooner he could be with Quinn. “And a guide to take us outside the city walls.”

“You’re abandoning us, master?” Turner’s gruff voice sounded from the shadows, the huge bear-like man moving forward to cross his arms on his chest. “Now, when you brought so many strangers into our territory so they can hunt us when you’re gone?”

“It wasn’t my intention,” even to his own ears, Marcus’ response seemed weak, an excuse. Turner’s lips curled up in a snarl, eyes narrowing. “I…”

“Take the long way then,” Julius’ voice was casual even as he rolled his shoulders. “If you lose someone who can’t follow, well, no one will blame you. Blindfold them all if you will - but if they stay, these tunnels will be overrun by rebels who want the Emperor’s blood and they won’t stop to ask questions.”

“You’re so confident that we aren’t part of your rebellion?” Vixen giggled before shaking her head. “We don’t work cheap.”

“If you seek money, I have more than enough to pay you,” Julius smirked back, pulling out a scrap of paper from his boot and a quill. Finding a small vial of ink, he quickly scribbled a note before waving the paper in the air for the black words to dry. “Take this to the captain of the Southern Rose - she will be docked at the royal navy but you won’t miss her. Ask for Enrique and give him this. He will be able to give you five thousand….each.”

“How do we know it doesn’t say to arrest us? That you have money to pay?” Turner growled, looking at the paper in disbelieve. “Nobles, treating all else like shit.”

“Please, you wanna see shit, try sailing with the pirates,” Julius responded before slipping off a gem ring and tossing it to the man. “Call it collateral - keep it if you want or exchange it and the note for your gold. Makes no difference to me.”

“Enough,” Ulrich’s sharp command made the bigger man step down, bowing his head. “We’ll get these rich ones home but if they try to cause trouble, I cannot be responsible for their safety. Whoever goes with them must keep them in control. Vixen will take whoever you need to the city limits.”

“And we’re supposed to trust you, girlie?” Julius scoffed but Marcus just nodded.

“I’m not asking you to trust me, Jules,” the woman responded before her lips ended up my Julius’ ear. “I may be asking you to please me.”

“I…,” Marcus paused, looking torn. “I need to go, tell the….I…”

“Go, I’ll help your friends get the crowd moving,” Julius smiled slightly. “The sooner they head out, the better. I’m sure we can find a few good sherpas to help with the grand underground migration.”

“Milord knows sheep?” Ulrich’s eyes blazed with amusement, making Julius scowl.

“Too well,” he responded but Marcus didn’t seem to hear, moving back to where he had left Quinn, trying not to panic as he broke into a run, moving along the wall to avoid all the people in his way. As he slowed down, he saw Westley talking quietly to his sister, the girl disoriented but awake. The conversation stopped as soon as the man’s blue eyes landed on Marcus’ face.

“She woke up on her own,” Westley sighed. “But she’s too weak to walk and I don't know if we can move...”

“Then I’ll carry her,” Marcus dropped beside Quinn, picking up her clammy hand and bringing it to his cheek, feeling an immediate sense of relief. “I will carry you forever if I have to.”

“Don’t be melodramatic Marcus,” Quinn’s lips twitched in a smile, a pale shadow of what it used to be. “That’s not like you.”

“I’ll go tell Emeric,” Westley slowly rose to his legs. Somewhere in the background, they could hear Julius’ voice rising above the croud, gathering their attention. Marcus’ couldn’t hear what his friend was saying but slowly, the mass of people seemed to start moving. Painfully sluggish with some whispers and whimpering but they were moving, Julius’ voice mingling with those of Saskia, Carina and Duke Greville, the men hyena laughter echoing faintly at down the corridor. Within minutes, the last of the men and women that were hiding was disappearing down the corridor, the sound of shuffling feet and clothes becoming more distant with every breathe.

“We need to get going,” Emeric squatted down beside Quinn, smiling warmly at her. “I’m glad you’re awake.”

“Me too,” the blonde smiled again, her fingers weakly grasping at Marcus’ hand. “Thank you.”

Nodding, the redhead looked at the bandage, his face seeming to move into shadows for a second before his smile returned. At Marcus’ silent question, he shook his head in a slight no. “Now let’s see what’s the best way to do this, shall we?”

While Emeric was assisting Marcus in getting Quinn comfortable to be transported, Julius approached the empress and, in however unofficial role for the moment, her second in command, bowing before them. Liam let out a sigh and a nod, saying nothing though. Ready to take command in a second whenever danger was around, he was happy to revert to the young woman’s judgement at present when there was no immediate threat past the overarching presense of a rebellion and Alistair’s incapacitation.

“Your majesty, this is Vixen, one of Vale’s confidants,” Julius introduced the young redhead woman with almond eyes who didn’t make a single move to bow, observing Saskia with intense curiosity, her nose scrunching up a few times as she took in the scents around her. She bit her lip as her gaze shifted to the blonde man, chuckling.

“They really do choose you lot for looks, not brains in that flight thing,” Vixen smirked, before her eyes landed on Julius. “Don’t worry, Ju-Ju, you’re still my favorite.”

“Vixen is our guide out of here,” Julius glared at the woman before turning to his friends. “As soon as Emeric has the infirmed situated, we should go.”

[Hannelorian]

The Empress kept her eyes moving, darting between the relative strangers and the ailing Quinn. The annoyance of their banter and their petty little games and threats was enough to make Saskia roll her eyes as she remained focused on the task at hand. Her mind racing, filled with fret and concern. This all seemed so wrong. What should have been a glorious day had turned so sour, so dark, dire and filled with the blood of her countrymen. She then watched as the nobles followed off and began to disperse finally her attention turning toward the one with fire colored hair, this Vixen. Here she stood taunting the men. But Saskia said nothing until she was compelled to do so.

The Empress Dowager, Carina stepping out before this... Vixen with a stern comment. "Are you aware of who you are addressing? Of who is party to such..." But before she could complete her sentence Saskia had intervened. "Enough." Her hand was raised as she finally looked at the stranger in the eyes. "The General is a grown man, he can handle the comment." Saskia dismissed what had been said about Liam, and about Julius, chosen for their looks above all, though even Saskia had to admit the entire group was unusually attractive. "No names. No nothing. We do this, we leave, we were never here. We never saw anything." The Empress was adamant, give these people no reason to take up against them, and no threat of potential arrest or consequence. As far as she was concerned, no matter how she didn't approve of these individuals, they were still risking their lives to escort them, that deserved a modicum of respect.

"Mother." Saskia said softly as she approached Carina and embraced her warmly, genuinely. Despite any of their recent... misgivings they were now family, and they had to stick together. "Go with the rest. Return to Caelum Fortis." Carina seemed astonished that Saskia was now entrusting her with this task, when it would be so easy to betray that trust. "A de Vallois must always remain in capital. We'll return as soon as we can." Saskia smiled ever so warmly and leaned in to kiss the woman on the cheek.

"Are you absolutely certain?" Not that Carina cared for Alistair, but at least in Valadis no one was trying to kill her, she would be safe and she could do what she could to keep the stability of government. "Protect yourself, Saskia." Carina nodded her head and departed quickly to catch up with the rest bound to return to the city and the palace. Saskia breathed out a sigh of relief and looked once more toward Quinn who at this point had been stabilized as much as possible with Marcus, now she was conscious, it was enough to crush the Empress' spirit. She had seen this look before, this moment of clarity. It reminded her of her mother when she was on her death bed. She could only imagine what Marcus was going through.

"Let's go." Saskia urged as she nodded in Vixen's general direction. "Now." The Empress was still in her role, she was still the one in charge, at least ostensibly. Saskia moved forward and took toward Marcus, but she really only had eyes for Saskia, the Empress reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Quinn, this won't be easy for you my dear." She was honest, the journey, any journey in this condition would be incredibly difficult, if she would survive at all. "Just hold on, alright? We'll go as quickly as we can, but if you need anything, tell us. Alright?"

Vixen began to move through the tunnels and the party would follow after her. Saskia would resume her role as one of the two people who would carry the Emperor, her husband through. "General, your assistance please." Liam moved quickly to the opposite side of Emperor and the two would work together to carry him. Julius seemed to have everything well in hand when it came to dealing with the rather undesirable character guiding them to the walls of the city. In truth, Saskia preferred that Liam was the the one to assist her. It kept him close, it made her feel safe. She could trust him and despite whatever was happening between the two of them, he was supporting her and Alistair.

Beatrix could only nod in acceptance as Marcus eschewed her, and she understood he was in no place to be able to respond. His mind was only on Quinn, as it should have been. They were all fortunate that Liam, Julius and the others were present to take up the burden of leadership, and though Marcus continued to do his duty to the best of his ability. It was admirable. Even in the throws of despair he was doing everything in his power to keep it together, though it was plain to see he was fraying at the edges. But Beatrix had her own priorities and as the man heeded to his work, she did to hers. The Dowager Duchess Eaves went to her child, and to Alexander. Using every bit of strength she had she picked up her son and held on to him for dear life, before lowering her free hand, to take Alexander's. While she would likely take no dragon and have to take the longer route to Cliffheaven to be beside her mistress, she would not abandon her, not now.

George stood silently beside Raddison for a few moments as the group prepared themselves to leave. She was in a state of reflection and contemplation. Her hand reaching to take his into her own to squeeze it, a gentle act of reassurance that she was still there and that she was alright, despite all of the pain and the chaos and the panic. George would be forever by his side. No matter what happened between them all, she held on to what was important. "Forever." George said in a low voice as she turned her gaze upward to Raddison, every fiber in her being rejoicing in his presence. "We're going to promise each other forever." She continued. "So I don't want to waste it." They only had a few moments, but she would make them count. "No matter how bad things get... I'll always be here to support you and your brothers." Of course in a sense she meant Maurice, but really, she meant the men of the Flight. These were her family now. "We could die tomorrow, and I'll die happy." George used her hand to wipe the tears from her eyes before they had a chance to fall too far. "Keep an eye on that... woman." George nodded to her intended.

The Princess Syrenia began to move as the rest did, taking a moment with Alan to embrace him warmly and encourage him to move forward. But it was along the walk through the labyrinthine catacombs that George would remain closest to Marcus and Quinn, as blood would appear at the girl's nose and the corners of her mouth she would wipe it away, keeping herself poised and gentle and keeping herself apace with them.

Moving through the dimly lit corridors, Vixen knew this place like the back of her hand, she moved with such skill and needed very little light to do so. There was a sense she was constantly looking back at the group, perhaps in judgment, perhaps simply to make sure they were still there. Everyone had gone nose blind to the dank and stale air. Aside from the sounds of their hurried footsteps, you could hear the gentle drip and drop of water that had squeezed through impossibly small cracks in the stone and now were falling to the ground, or sliding down the walls, surrendering to the forces of gravity and their own weight. The space beneath the earth above them was cool. The great irony of it all was that they were in the catacombs, they were literally surrounded by death, the ghosts of life, some of them well lived, some of them perhaps were too short, but who was here to remember them?

The Priests of the Flame never came down here anymore, and without them there was no one to pray for the souls of these people whose names were long forgotten. Even the old name placards were worn, if they still existed, some now decorated the floors or had been shattered into pieces. It was an overwhelming dread, the cold was fitting. The death was fitting. The moisture was fitting. It felt like the tears of those above them had come down through the earth to fall upon them.

The journey forward seemed like it lasted for ages. But perhaps it was a manner of minutes? An hour? It was impossible to tell and with the light was so low, it was a different kind of hell, a different feeling of pain. And yet it finally seemed to come to an end as Vixen had led them to a set of stairs the ascended to what appeared to be a false wall. There was no handle just cool stone and with a deft press of a single stone it depressed into it's surroundings and opened. They had finally reached the city limits and when they emerged and had the chance to turn around, in the distance the flames of the Cathedral burned high into the sky, illuminating everything around it.

God save the Emperor.

[Breggo13]

Julius didn’t truly know what to think of the shapeshifter that currently acted as their guide - at the very least, he did not trust her but there was no other choice. She seemed to float above the ground without a sound, her almond animal eyes highlighting with amusement whenever one of the so called trained knights stumbled or kicked a stone, her lips curling in a teasing smirk. They didn’t have time to take lights - the dragon riders could see well enough in the dark to make it through but since nearly all of them had some sort of duty or someone to lead who didn’t possess the same skiss, it was easy to make mistakes. As they made yet another turn, the young Islander wished Marcus was the one who was leading them but he couldn’t begrudge his friend for this. Not when he was trying not to hope, as they all did, for the impossible.

Liam didn’t say anything as he carried the blunt of Alistair’s weight, his friend able to move but needing so much support that it was akin to being carried. Saskia had moved to the emperor’s other side and while she attempted to help, it left the blonde man in a rather amusing situation. The lieutenant-general of the Emperial army, the commander of the Southern front, the leader of the Flight - all of that seemed to have been reduced as ‘the crutch of the empire’. With the emperor out of sorts, he found himself stepping into the role that he never sought, the weight of responsibilities of the crown pushing down on him. The only bright spot was Saskia - as the empress, she would have the final say but, just as he didn’t want her to carry her husband’s weight, Liam did not want to leave her carrying the weight of the empire so soon after the unimaginable. And so, he stayed silent, trying as much as he could to be the steel core of the group.

Marcus had Quinn in his hands, the girl weakly trying to hold on, the rogue whispering something to her in a calming tone, so soft that it was barely audible. Behind them, Westley stalked, his mood having shifted away from his usual levity, hands balled into fists. A few times, he angrily wiped away stray tears but never when he thought anyone would be looking. He too was supporting Emeric who, after all the healing and dragon power he channeled through himself, was exhausted, stumbling forward nearly as bad as the emperor. Radisson had hoisted Alexander into his arms, the young boy seeming to have gone mute after the events of today, his hand tightly intertwined with George’s before the blonde moved forward to assist Quinn, his expression dark, leaving Darius to bring up the rear, gently guiding Beatrix and Joshua.

They were a somber procession as they emerged, in what seemed like hours, on the farthest outskirts of the city, blinking at the gray daylight. Chuckling, Vixen crossed her arms, her eyes trained on Julius. “Told you I was the best.”

“Don’t get cocky,” the man responded before turning to look around, the rest of his friends making their way out to the small clearing, the bog nearby having a distinctive smell of outpost excess. Shaking his head, Julius raised his hand to his forehead, shading his eyes and trying to get a better sense of where they were.

“Long live the emperor,” Westley’s humourless voice beside him made the tanned rider turn in the direction the blonde was looking, instantly wanting to swear. In the distance, the cathedral was smoking. For once, the Flight could silently agree that the architects of the past, in their disdain for dragon fire, gave the city a blessing. The fire had not spread further than the single building though whether it was finally out or still raging remained a mystery.

“We have to go,” Liam’s voice seemed to bring everyone back, everyone turning to look towards him. Unlike the catacombs with its relative safety, the exposed landscape meant that they could be assaulted at any minute and from any direction. “Once the dragons are in flight, they will be noticed. Our advantage is speed - the faster we are in the air, the less chances we have for anyone to follow.”

“You think some of our own have turned?” Westley’s hard question seemed to slice the air like a knife. Liam’s cold eyes met with the younger man’s.

“I cannot afford to think they haven’t,” he responded steadily. From behind them, Vixen snorted.

“Great friends you have there, Ju-Ju. They don’t even trust their own,” she rolled her eyes. “How do you men even survive?”

“Julius, if we’re done?” Liam shot the younger man a direct look, Julius making a face in response before sliding his arm over the young woman’s shoulders and pulling her to the side, towards the entrance. Not bothering to understand their conversation, Liam’s gaze turned to Darius. “Can Aellorex be trusted with Alistair in that state? He’s young and impulsive.”

“I….don’t think so,” Darius shook his head. “The drake is still emotional and protective. He is deeply connected to his rider and if left alone, I doubt we could control him.”

“And Emeric?” the icy eyes turned to the redhead who gave a weak smile.

“Aeliora will take care of me,” the man’s tone was exhausted but coherent. “Though I won’t be able to take anyone else.”

“Very well,” Liam closed his eyes for a second. “Westley, you will need to take Alistair - Aellorex is most comfortable with your Ancalagon and will stay tethered. Marcus --”

“I am not leaving Quinn,” the rogue’s eyes dared anyone to comment but Liam ignored him.

“I know, I was going to say the same,” he hummed for a second. “Radisson won’t leave George, Darius,” his eyes turned back to the youngest man. “Can your beast handle Lady Eaves and her son?”

“No, that would slow us down - not the weight but how we’d sit,” Darius bit his lip, before looking up. “But I can take both boys. Their legs are too short to interfere with Eclipsion’s wings.”

“Good which leaves Julius with Beatrix,” Liam looked around, taking in the relative emptiness of the land. It was far from ideal, far from perfect. They were too exposed and too close but there was nothing else they could do. Time - if only they had time. Alas, he was used to dealing with less than ideal circumstances, making decisions and following through. Trying to change something, attempting to find a more optimal place, all of it would lead to indecision and disaster. “Call your dragons, gentlemen. Quick, efficient. And….We will meet in Cliffhaven but don’t all fly the same direction. Marcus, Westley - you may but the rest.”

As the men of the flight nodded, Liam quietly settled Alistair down, the man practically falling as though his head was spinning and grunting. Leaving Saskia to attend him, the blonde closed his eyes, finding almost instantly the thread in his mind that connected him to his bonded dragon, pulling on it mentally to signal the creature to come. Barra’s presence, one he had been pushing out for what seemed like forever, came blasting into his skull. Grunting with pain, Liam grabbed the sides of his head, ending up on his knees as he felt the silver’s anger, fear, relief and the silent berating that echoed all around. Waving off the few people turned to him, the Earl steadied his breathing, his mind sorting through the influx until he got to the core of the drake, sending him the location.

This, he thought, rising unsteadily to his legs, was the downside of spending too much time with the dragons in life or death situations. Living on the frontlines more than anyone should, relying on the silver for companionship and survival, their bond was strong and, as much as Barra would never show it, he loved Liam the same way the blonde loved the dragon. It helped them come through yet another brutal season unscathed but the fear for one another at times was all consuming, making it impossible to function separately at times. As the sky became filled with dots, approaching as huge speed so that within minutes they resembled the dragons, Liam walked over to Saskia, bending to help her with Alistair who had, at this point, passed out.

“I should have asked you permission, your majesty, before assuming you would be alright to fly with me. I beg you to put your trust in the Flight now - it will be best if we take a route different from the emperor. Asterius can recover if one of you perishes. If you both,” he paused, sighing heavily. “The crown always wins and I believe these precautions prudent.”

He didn’t say anything else, leaning forward so that his body blocked the young woman’s face as the dragons landed, their wingbeats stirring up a huge cloud of debris, dirt and rocks. Straightening, he turned to see the eight dragons sniffing the air and snapping amongst each other, Aellorex visibly disturbed as his black nostrils showed two distinct white columns of smoke, Radisson’s blue female Zalyria snapping at the black male in annoyance. Shooting Darius a look that the young men understood correctly, Liam turned to Alistair, starting to slowly raise him before Westley, appearing from nowhere, helped from the other side.

“We’ll get you there fast and safe, just hold on Al,” Westley’s tone held his usual humour though it sounded forced. The emperor made no indication to have heard him. Exchanging a worried look between themselves, the two men started towards the red male currently hissing at his neighbour, his neck drawn back like a cobra. “Lagon, stop it!”

Hearing his rider’s voice, the dragon turned his golden gaze at the trio, hissing in a way that showed his white teeth, stomping his front feet in agitation before making a growl in the back of his throat. Beside him, Zalyria snapped thin air, a clear warning. “Lagon, I swear! She’s just like George and you can do so much better than that.”

“Are you really giving your dragon relationship advice now?” Liam grumbled under his breathe, watching the animals’ body language. Westley shot him a shadow of a smile.

“Perhaps but he won’t listen - no one ever does.”

“Radisson, get your animal under control,” Liam called as the duke’s son approached the blue, cooing at her until the dragon slowly lowered her head, her electric blue eyes closing the second her nosetip connected with the man’s chest. Shaking his head, Liam moved forward, Westley whistling a signal to the red who seemed much calmer now. It wasn’t easy but within five minutes, they managed to secure Alistair into the saddle, Westley climbing behind him so that his friend’s unconscious body was pressed up against him. “Good speed, Wes.”

“You too, Li,” Westley looked like he wanted to say something else but setting his mouth in a determined line, he gave the command, his dragon jumping into the air and spreading his wings, beating them to gain altitude. With a roar, the emperor’s black did the the same, the pair circling in the sky before taking off to the North. In the distance, Liam could barely make out the rapidly disappearing shadow of a dragon, Marcus having waited for no one. Looking around, he was pleased to see that Emeric made it onto his light green drake, Julius tightening the last straps on his saddle as the female watched on, tilting her head with curiosity and blowing smoky rings at the Islander. Atop her, the redhead smiled though his eyes seemed to be already closed.

“Thank god it’s you, Aeliora and not Radi’s monster,” Julius muttered, stepping back to admire his work. “You are so much more understanding.”

“Get going, Jules,” Emeric yawned through a soft chuckle. Radisson and George were helping Darius with the boys, Eclipsion lying practically on his belly but the huge dragon was still too big for the children to climb up onto him. Thus, they were raised one by one onto the moss green beast where the youngest Vale solemnly sat them before him, slipping theis legs through the few leg straps they could reach and instructing them quietly how to hold on. As Julius stepped back, he moved to his own brigh blue and gold dragon, assisting Beatrix up. Seeing that everyone was taken care of, Liam turned back to Saskia and his own beast.

“Come, this is Barra,” Liam offered the young woman his hand before leading her to the silver. The male was not as big as Eclipsion but he was powerful and, in Liam’s eyes, more beautiful than even Aellorex. Sniffing the rider over, the huge storm-grey eyes turned to observe Saskia with silent curiosity, the dragon taking on delicate whiff before losing interest. Smirking with the tips of his mouth, Liam moves to raise Saskia up on the dragon’s back, trying to get his mind to ignore his hands on her body, the ease with which he raised her and the look she gave him. As soon as she was settled, he slipped on behind her, an arm instinctively wrapping around her stomach and pulling her close, his mouth ending up near her ear. “It will be cold - this way I can share my warmth with you. I’m sorry.”

What the apology was for specifically, Liam wasn’t sure. Was he apologizing for the inconvenient way that he had to move the empress and all those loyal to her? The way he was holding her as though he had any right to? The fact that as unsettled as he was by Alistair’s condition, deep down he wondered if maybe it was for the best? The emperor was not a fool but since the crown had ended up upon his brow, he had been unable to fully relax or at times even make rational decisions. If there were rebels present in the equation, Liam was not entirely sure whether Alistair was the right leader for the crisis nor did he believe himself to be the answer. In truth, they needed unity and perhaps this unexpected threat would drive them all closer. His hand tightened slightly across Saskia’s stomach involuntarily. Unity was good, closeness was dangerous.

Not allowing himself time to think, the man whistled and the huge silver beast rose to the skies, the last one to do so. His powerful wingbeats made him soar quickly and soon, the dragon was hovering above the clouds, his gaze turned to observe the blue and golden brethren that was flying west, the last one to leave before the leader of the Flight. Breathing out into a cloud of white, Liam turned Barra South, away from his homeland and, in some ways, away from the responsibilities that would await both riders upon their reunion with their most loyal. As the dragon sped towards the given direction, Liam tracked the time, waiting until they had flown a good two hours South-West away from Valadis.

Stopping for a short break in the middle of the woodlands, the dragon turned North, leading along the ragged western coastline, staying above the waves as much as he could until the Northern winds matched with the frozen water below forced the beast to move towards the land, the setting sun slowly into the horizon, reflecting off the scales of the beast. As the time stretched, Liam found himself wondering if they should stop for the night - the air was rapidly dropping around them and they had no supplies. While Barra could fly for days, it was the young empress the rider’s concerns revolved. Her and - he swallowed heavily - the unborn hier to the throne. Still, if they stopped, it would stir panic amongst the men. If they didn’t come before sunrise which is how far away Cliffhaven was at top speed, that would destroy all they had strived to preserve.

They carried on, a shadow in the night, the silver dragon glimering in the moonlight as the landscape became wilder, colder and less forgiving. Liam tried as much as he could to wrap his body around Saskia, his grip on her long surpassing that of a doting subject and becoming one of survival. At some point, he has shed his jacket to put it over her shoulders, the loose white shirt flapping in the wind. As they approached his land, crossing the boarder of Cliffhaven, Liam felt the knot of tension relax and Barra give a triumphant roar, the sound seeming to echo for miles all around them, causing the man to smile gently.

“We’re almost there, hold on a little longer,” he murmured, his lips by this point almost at the young woman’s ear as his chin rested on her shoulder. From up ahead, the faint echo of a cacophony of roars sounded back, Barra flaring his nostrils and picking up extra speed, enough that the frigid air of the night slapped against the skin of the riders, biting and pinching. Liam growled as the wind seemed to pierce him to the core, his eyes turning forward even as it made tears form in his eyes. Slowly, the trees gave way to small rock mounds then large stone hills, eventually the land becoming jagged rocks and cliffs. As they rounded a particular cliff, the landscape changed once more to reveal a city sprawling before them, the faint flickers of light and definitive flags of Clifhaven flying against the dark sky. And beyond Seastone, the towers of Aegis of the Sea, the ancient home of the Earls of Cliffhaven appeared atop a cliff in the sea, seeming to float above water as the angry sea broke against the rocky foundation with anger.

Barra didn’t need direction - he steadied his pace, circling the castle a couple times, eyeing the space below that was a summer garden but build in such a way to accommodate dragons. Frankly, the whose structure was ancient enough to have been established at a time when Dragon Flights were welcomed in the fanciest of castles along with the dragons. Below, a few of the dragons raised their heads, Zalyria bellowing a greeting as she raised her head up. People came running from the castle towards them and somewhere behind them in the night sky, another shadow appeared of a dragon. Barra touched down, snapping when one of the drakes - Westley’s Ancalagon - tried to reach out to sniff him.

“Easy buddy,” Liam cooed, untangling himself slowly from Saskia and slipping down to the ground, his legs aching after so many hours of use. Unlike the saddle whose leg loops allowed one to relax, sitting on the back of the drake at such speed required physical strength and endurance. Not waiting to see who was approaching, he turned back to Saskia, slowly loosening the leg straps before helping her down, his hands lingering a second too long. Too long because he could feel the utter exhaustion settling in. Beside him, Barra huffed, stomping his feet in annoyance and rolling his shoulders to indicate that he too was done with the saddle.

“Liam?” His mother’s voice - equal parts relief and disbelief - made him drop his hands and turn to the older woman who was approaching with confidence that many of the men in the Dragon Knight’s order would envy. Barra huffed, eyeing her with disbelief but made no move to do anything, only his long tail swishing back and forth. “Oh thank god you’re alight! I was so terrified when Elmeric and Aeliora landed, both rather exhausted. He is resting now but he explained in a few words what had happened. Westley was next and since then, it seems we are to be invaded by every dragon in the land.”

“Mother,” Liam embraced the woman warmly before shaking his head. “If only the rebels told me of their plans, I would have been sure to inform you of their plans.”

“You should have been the court jester with such poor humour,” Margot shook her head before her eyes fell to the young woman. “And to jest when you aren’t alone!”

“May I present her imperial majesty, Empress Saskia, first of her name?” Liam presented the younger woman to his mother who immediately dropped into a curtsy. “Your majesty, may I present my mother, the dowager countess of Cliffhaven, Lady Margot Rhyddrech?”

“If I may be so bold, please call me Lady Margot,” his mother pursed her lips, shooting her son a rather disappointed look before approaching the young woman. “Come, lets get you warmed up. You are in absolutely no position to help anyone or make any decisions when you can barely feel your fingers. Mulled wine, a hot bath and fresh clothing will do wonders and then you can berate me all you want for my inappropriate behavior. Come, dear, come.”

Liam watched as his mother took over the young woman, refusing to take a no for an answer. He was grateful for her initiative and kindness, something he had always experience but felt that Saskia had been lacking for years. Carina, who should have been her mother, couldn’t be colder and while they seemed to have developed some truce over the difficult events, he hoped that being surrounded by attention and care would help Saskia let go of the stress of today.

“I’m glad you made it,” Westley had appeared behind him, slipping to start undoing Barra’s saddle even as the silver sighed, annoyed at being ignored it. “How is she?”

“Strong,” Liam responded, coming to assist. Together, they removed the saddle in record time, the dragon rolling his shoulders before coming to his Flight, pushing the lower ranked dragons to move just as Julius’ blue and gold started to circle the castle. “Who else has arrived?”

“Emeric, me, Radisson,” Westley nodded at the dark blue female dragon bowing her head slightly before the silver male, her pale blue eyes eyeing him for any sign of weakness even as Barra growled at her, his fangs gleaming. “Darius with the boys.”

“Where is he?” Liam asked as both men stepped back to allow the dragon coming to land space.

“Inside,” Westley ran a hand through his hair. “Nora really stepped up, took the boys under her wing right away and all that. I don’t know about marriage but she’ll be a fantastic mother.”

“Good,” Liam sighed. “And Marcus?”

“I think I know where he went,” Westley swallowed, turning away sharply to wipe his eyes. “He was ahead and then he veered off sharply. I didn’t stop but…”

“I’m sorry Wes, truly,” Liam placed a hand on Westley’s shoulder, feeling his heart sink. Another soul, another life he couldn’t have done anything about. Another decision made by them all that resulted in a death. “At least her pain ended and her soul is with the Great Father.”

“She didn’t deserve this,” Westley whispered angrily. “None of this! She was supposed to be safe!”

“We’ll talk about this as soon as Julius is here,” Liam promised, his eyes full of compassion but his voice stoic. “Panic among the leaders in a time of crisis shows weakness and sparks mistrust. Sometimes more panic. Not here.”

“I…I hear you, brother,” Westley murmured before bowing and disappearing into the castle, leaving Liam to assist Beatrix and Julius alone, a bitter feeling in his mouth. Leadership was a heavy crown indeed.

[Hannelorian]

For the women of the court the journey to Cliffhaven was hard, bordering on brutal. The flight through the cold night was something none of them were prepared for. George only strengthened by Raddison, Beatrix persevering on her anger for the night's events alone. Her anger that her son, the only thing in the world she was truly proud of could have been killed. That was enough for her to endure the frigid weather of the winter's night. When they had landed all Beatrix had asked was to be taken to her son who had landed before her. Of course not before thanking Julius for his grace in taking her along with him. In truth she hadn't even considered that she would have been offered a seat upon a dragon if that was what one called it.

If anything the women had a new found appreciation for the Dragons and the men who rode them. Saskia having been on Alistair's beloved Aellorex a couple of times found she could note differences in the flight style while sitting upon Liam's Barra. Liam held on to Saskia so tightly, he kept her warm, he put her first or at least it felt like that. And while the Empress truly worried after her husband, she couldn't help but be grateful that it was Liam who had escorted her, and held her so securely through the long journey. Indeed the Empire was vast, and she realized just how much she had to learn about this new world she found herself in.

The Empress was ushered off by Liam's mother, and in some ways she was reminded of her own mother, however briefly. She had been gone for years now at this point. Once they were inside Saskia used the force of her own weight to stop moving. "Lady Margot." Saskia's voice was warm, despite the fact that she was pushing down the need to shiver to catch her own warmth. "I will not reprimand you. You are showing me great kindness in my hour of need, and that is only to be commended and rewarded. I will not fight you on your insistence but I must be allowed to see my husband first."

"Of course, Majesty." Lady Margot had a look in her eyes that said she was disappointed, not in the Empresses' ask, but that it would ultimately delay her restoration to a state in which she could serve people the best. Though she ultimately understood the nature of the ask. Margot escorted Saskia through the halls until they arrived at room. Outside of the lightly colored double doors were two guards in Cliffhaven livery, the soldiers of the realm that served the Rhydderch family. The two men standing watch bowed before the Empress and opened the doors where Saskia rushed in. "Thank the Gods." Saskia exhaled in relief. Alistair had already been changed, his wounds redressed and he had been placed in the bed beneath the covers. The heart in the room was raging, it was warm, as though it had been made ready in advance.

Saskia practically flew across the room to stand beside Alistair, she leaned down and kissed his lips softly. The man was no unconscious and seemed to be resting, though it was fitful at best. Reaching her hand down she took his into her own and squeezed it softly. "Rest." She commanded him, knowing it would have no effect. "Lady Margot." Saskia called back, turning her head. "I commend my presence to your capable hands." Saskia finally acquiesced and departed the room with Margot. When the doors closed she took a moment to address the guards.

"Please forgive me, for I am about to appear most harsh." The Empress knew her instructions had likely been relayed, but she felt the need to repeat them. "Even though you serve this family and do so most nobly. No one aside from Lord Rhydderch, myself or his attendant healer may see him. It is for the good of the Empire." Both men nodded and bowed once more before Saskia departed, neither addressing her directly in strict adherence to the protocols. The Empress found herself in a medium sized bedroom, one with it's own bath. The fire had been lit, mulled wine, still hot was waiting and the bath in the process of being drawn.

"It is perhaps not what you are used to, your Majesty. But is what we can offer." Lady Margot had in fact, once hosted the Emperor before, the late Emperor that was and his wife Carina, though they had weeks to prepare for a visit. This one was hasty at best. "It's perfect. Thank you." Saskia smiled warmly, turning to the woman she rested a hand on her shoulder. "I..." Saskia began but she struggled for a moment. "You needn't say it, Majesty. We know." Margot interrupted, knowing the young Empress, younger than any of her daughters even, was attempting to express her gratitude.

A young maid silently entered the room and curtsied deeply before the Empress, her hands trembling with nerves, never having been responsible for such assignment, but having been maid aware her ladies in waiting were unavailable for the next while. "Please my good Lady, attend to your guests. I shall be just fine with this young lady." Saskia nodded reassuringly and turned her attention to the young lady. "Your name is?" Saskia asked patiently, though the young woman seemed unable to respond, caught up in her words, instead mumbling something incoherently.

"Her name is Cora. And you'll forgive her nerves. She isn't used to attending to... someone of your position. She'll be fine. We've had some clothes laid out for you. They are my eldest daughter's." Lady Margot said calmly. "Aoife?" Saskia responded without hesitation. Margot nodded. "I am surprised, pleasantly that you know of her." Margot was taken aback, but at the same time grateful that Saskia knew a little of them.

"Lord Rhydderch has been an advisor to me. It's also fair to suggest that I ask too many questions. Please sit..." Saskia motioned toward one of the chairs. Cora slowly began to remove the Empress red dress, covered in dirt and blood. Though it was a relatively simple gown, it was rendered unusable for the future. The white shift the Empress wore underneath was relatively intact, though now her shoulders were exposed, and her arms, plenty of bruising plain to see. Cora gently moved the Empress to a comfortable chair, handing her the cup of mulled wine and disappeared to fetch a clean rag and cleansing alcohol to attend to her more visible wounds. Saskia still had glass embedded in her skin. "I had the pleasure of meeting Countess Flores."

Cora slowly worked with tweezer like instruments to remove the glass, some shards were alarmingly large. The Empress winced in pain causing the young maid pause. "No, you're fine dear. Keep going. A little pain is all." Saskia flashed a warm smile as she drank from her cup of wine, the warmth of it and the hearth slowly calming her down. Cora's hand trembled and Saskia took it into her own squeezing. "Truly. You're alright Cora. It isn't you that causes the pain." Cora nodded and eventually continued.

"Is she... Liam didn't..." Liam hadn't mentioned it, likely because Margot had swept away with the Empress so quickly. "Yes. She made it alright, as did her husband. Rois has a good head on her shoulders. You have so much to be proud of, Lady Margot." Saskia was sincere, kind. Margot's face softened immediately, breathing out a sigh of relief. "Thank you..." She said, visibly calming as the Empress spoke. There was something about her which was easy. For a woman so young, she seemed to be wiser than some might give her credit for. Margot seemed hesitant at first, to ask her questions, but in the end she gave in. "How bad is it?"

The Empress took in the question and her face turned deathly serious. "Lord Rhydderch informed me that at least four knights perished as we were hurried into catacombs following the explosion. Lord Vale... he brought Alexander and Dowager Eaves' son Joseph back for the occasion... the boys returned but he did not." Saskia was finally beginning to process. "The Emperor... I have to hide him, but even I know that I must pray for a swift recovery. He cannot stay away for long. And I have no idea how many others..." Saskia wiped away the tears that she felt fall down her cheeks thinking of the death, the carnage. "It was bad... Lady Margot... My chief maid. She's Westley's sister. Marcus' beloved..."

Margot, in all of her grace stood and crossed the room, knelt before the Empress and took her hands, holding them tightly. "Quinn? Truly?" Margot asked her voice lost, trembling, even she had known of the girl, met her and quite enjoyed her company. "I don't know." Saskia said with sorrow in her voice. "But... the odds are against her." Saskia brought a hand to her mouth to cover it, shaking as she did so. "Your son." Saskia began as she leaned back into the seat. "Even if he couldn't save everyone, he did everything he could." Saskia forced a smile. "Please, attend to the others. I should probably take up that bath..."

Lady Margot stood up and nodded a silent exchange of thanks before disappearing. The Empress stood up and moved in the direction of the hot bath that waited for her and submerged herself in the waters. Only to emerge, her emotion set aside, she vanished into the bedroom to dress in the nightgown and dressing robe that had been provided alongside a dress for the next day. Saskia dismissed the household staff present within the rooms, and allowed herself to do as she always did, feel the full strength of her emotion. Crumbling to her knees, she curled up on the floor by the fire and sobbed, mourning the loss of life, mourning the absolute tragedy of what had happened. All Saskia wanted was Liam. Comfort. Safety.

---

Beatrix moved swiftly and directly through the halls. She was a woman who was freezing, uncomfortable, and had been separated from her son for far too long. Not only with the crisis of the attack, but having surrendered him several weeks earlier. No one could stop her, and when she finally arrived at the room with the two boys and the youngest of the Rhydderch family, Beatrix was fuming. "Where are my boys?!" Beatrix demanded as she entered. In this moment she viewed Alexander as her responsibility. She too felt for him, and his need to be loved and supported and there was Nora, having set the boys to bed.

"So you are as rude as they say." Nora cocked her head to the side her arms were folded. Catching sight of the Duchess there was no question as to her identity. There was a grin to her, and a grit that accompanied it. "The boys are in bed. They're exhausted but fine. They have extra blankets and we've tended to the fire." Nora seemed irritated, irked, and Beatrix would give her no quarter.

"Do you know to whom you speak?" Beatrix stepped forward, lurching ever closer toward the girl who showed no sign of backing down. "Would your Empress tolerate this?" Beatrix was a mother who was worried, she was not actually angry at Nora, she was simply worried and allowed that to get the best of her. "Would she tolerate the safe keeping of two innocent children? I should think she would." Nora did not back down, instead she moved closer to Beatrix, instinctively puffing her chest out as she stood straight and tall. Beatrix eventually sighed in relent. "I... am sorry. It's been a long day, a long night... My nerves are..." Beatrix raised her hand and shook it back and forth. Her nerves were gone. Everything was an intense blur.

"Thank you would be an appropriate response." Nora sniped back. Curtsying the Dowager and then leaving the room. Setting off in something of a huff. Beatrix moved toward the bed and slowly put herself into it, cradling both of the children close to her. Though her rest amongst those two peaceful boys would be short lived. As eventually the door came opened and a beleaguered Darius came through. Beatrix sat up in bed, as the young man came into the room and fell to his knees. There were tears falling from his eyes and soft but muffled sobs. Slowly casting the blankets aside and careful to move the blankets aside she made her way across the floor and took Darius into her arms, leaning on her knees there hugging him tightly and hushing his cries.

"You said... he was proud of me." He forced out. "And now he's gone." His father was dead. And his brother too consumed with Quinn to process it. It was a horrid day for both of the Vale boys.

Beatrix could feel her heart melt for a moment as she continued to squeeze him, just holding him there on the floor of the room before the fire. "And he was proud of you. To the very last moment." Beatrix, like the Empress and clearly like Darius knew when those boys came back but his father didn't that he was gone. "Shh... shh..." She just held him there, cradling him closely to her as he began to feel his grief. And his sadness for his brother who hadn't returned. It was a tragic day for the Vale family. They would never be the same, the trauma was real and the wounds were incredibly deep. "I'm so sorry Darius. I'm so sorry." Beatrix whispered to him as gently as she could. "Grieve..." Beatrix whispered, her soft signal that whatever Darius felt, it would be alright.

George and Raddison, now safe on the ground, looked at her betrothed and held tightly onto him. "I need to go to her." George said softly, her delicate frame shivering from the ride on the dragon. "No." Raddison whispered into her ear, his breath warm against her flesh as he held her tightly. "You need to rest. You're exhausted. You're pregnant." Raddison was genuinely concerned for his future bride. "You need to get into a bed and rest." Raddison worried himself about not only George but the Emperor. He recalled Saskia's orders. But George came first, she had to rest. "I would be abandoning her." George whispered. Her body almost collapsing into Raddison's. "No. Lady Rhydderch has everything in hand, and first thing you can go to her. You need rest, and I need to attend the Emperor." Raddison felt his duty strong, the same strength as George. But he needed her to be still. To think just for a moment of herself. Raddison would bring himself to stand guard outside Alistair's room after seeing him, and George would agree and eventually curl up to sleep.

What kind of day has it been?

[Breggo13]

Liam racked is fingers through his hair, the mop of ash blonde seeming to have turned more grey in the dim, flickering light of his study. Sitting at the head of the table, there were a milliard of thoughts running through his head and yet, at the same time, he was detached. There was an odd combination of shock, frustration and exhaustion that battled within, each trying to rear its head and get him to embrace it but just as quickly as one emotion overwhelmed him, another pulled it back angrily. Few would be able to tell the deep extent of this internal turmoil - in all this, his eyes remained cold as the snow that surrounded the castle like a soft blanket. But it was the set jaw, the dishiveled appearance and an almost unnatural stillness that was only interrupted with prolonged, predatory motions that gave away what the Earl of Cliffhaven felt inside.

It was almost odd to be sitting in his study, alone as he waited for his friends to slowly gather. Julius had come in with Keiko, a rather frozen but determined Beatrix with him, the woman taking off the second her feet touched the ground. The men didn’t say anything, only watching her go, Liam immune to the snapping cold that seemed to be in his blood. Julius shook his head.

“Ever felt the devil breathing down your neck for hours at a time?” he asked as his dragon shook his body as though in agreement. Liam smirked, a tired exhausted response even as he turned to help his friend with the beast’s saddle, the rest of the draconic menagerie sorting themselves out. As Keiko chirped and moved to join his Flight, the men moved inside, the guards bowing before their master and eyeing the dragons with distant curiosity.

“A mother always worry,” the blonde offered as the pair walked inside, their eyes adjusting to the dimly lit hallway.


“Wouldn’t know,” Julius groaned, stretching as he followed his commander to a tack room of sorts where all but one rack was full of dragon saddles. “Though my uncle was quite a worry wart.”

“I worry for you as well - too much and too often,” Liam responded even as he signaled for a page. “Go wash up - I’ve asked Freed to serve some sort of food in the study once you lot look presentable. Ricky will be your guide.”

“You don’t exactly smell like a rose in bloom,” Julius shot back but there was an exhaustion behind his usual cheer. Liam smiled, ruffling the younger man’s hair.

“I will be fine - I’ll bathe once all this is over,” pushing the brunette away, he grinned. “Scoot - I don’t want to be starving forever because you are still in the bathe.”

“It’s what you lot deserve after today,” Julius sang as he followed the page, the boy looking at him with some admiration and reserve. Shaking his head, Liam stopped by Alistair’s room, leaning against the doorframe with arms crossed as he looked upon his friend’s pale features. In the dim room covered to his chin in a thick duvet and cleaned as best as the valets could, the emperor appeared almost peaceful. And that made the liutenant general worry. Peacefulness was a sign that the man wasn’t ready to fight and who knew what that would mean for the future. Apathy was more dangerous to a warrior than even the deadliest blow - apathy led to death. Knowing he couldn’t fix it today, Liam told Radisson to meet them all in fifteen, instructing Freed to find a couple guards to stand watch and then finally made it to his study.

In truth, Liam should have checked in with his mother - Lady Margot was probably worried about them all but like the stoick countess she had been for years, she took care of the female guests and children, Nora stepping up in a way that made Liam proud. For all her attitude, she was exactly like her siblings - dependable when things went wrong. As he sank into his chair, Liam finally allowed himself to feel something akin to an emotion though it didn’t last.

“From the parade of footmen scrurrying about, its like Freed is preparing for a ball or a wedding,” Westley was the first to arrive, rolling his eyes. Dressed in clothes that Liam kept for his friends - something to keep the cold out - he had the darkest shadows under the eyes. “Probably for the better since we never got to the wedding feast.”

“As though you could eat anything at the moment,” Liam’s heavy gaze turned to his companion, the younger man sighing.

“You’re right, I probably can’t,” moving to one of the chairs around the huge T-shaped table, Westley gave Liam a pointed look. “But I need a drink.”

Without a word, the Earl stood and fished out two crystal glasses from a darkened cabinet, a bottle of the finest wine following only to be met with Westlet’s protests. Sighing, Liam pulled out aged firewhiskey, pouring a liberal amount into each glass before handing it to Westley.

“For Quinn,” he murmured, the younger man only nodding. There was no celebration and no clinking of glasses. In a brief moment of brotherhood, they were mourning.

“I hope you saved some for the rest of us,” Radisson’s weary voice sounded from the doorframe as the rest of the men trickled in, each looking broken and exhausted. Emeric stumbled in yawning but looking a bit more colorful than when they saw him last, Darius looking like his eyes were red and puffy. Each one was handed a drink, Liam clasping each of his men’s shoulder in reassurance. It had been a while since the Flight had felt helpless, broken and lost. Even the many scrimmages and battles they survived never seemed hopeless but perhaps, that was because the enemy was in clear sight. Here, they had survived but there was no clear enemy, nothing dragons or swords would solve.

“I’ll check on Alistair after this,” Emeric spoke softly as the men settled into the chairs, Freed and the footmen milling around to bring in plates with simple sandwiches and cold cuts, enough to satisfy those in the room. “Though I think I fixed anything physical with him before we left. What’s left, that will take time.”

“Who would have dared….the emperor’s wedding,” Radisson shook his head. “We should have been more prepared - ever since that attack on the embassy.”

“No point in blaming ourselves now,” Liam responded cooly, back in his role as the leader. “What’s done is done. We need to focus on what we do from now on.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Julius asked, his eyes lighting up as he eyed the food, piling healthy portions onto his plate. “Besides eat you out of house and home.”

“I do believe Lady Rhyddrech was prepared for that,” Darius gave a feeble smile, picking half heartedly at his own food. “She must have been stockpiling.”

“Three cheers for Lady Rhydderch then,” Julius managed between mouthfuls but Liam only shook his head.

“Resources can be replenished and we haven’t been here for years - even the dragons won’t burden Cliffhaven,” he sighed before turning to Radisson. “I will need all the information we can find - perhaps a trip to the north to face the rebels. Bride, threaten, persuade…anything. Knowledge is the only way we can move forward.”

“We’re not waiting for Marcus?” Radisson asked quietly, his blue-grey eyes lifting to meet Liam’s icy blue ones. Slowly, the Earl shook his head.

“We cannot afford to wait for Marcus,” the finality of the words hung in the air as the six men present took in the gravity. Six, not eight and no clue as to when they would be whole again. Bleeding, wounded but still fighting. “He needs time to come back on his own. Alistair needs to recover and we have the empress to protect. The empress and the heir.”

“Is that all we are to be now? Suspended and waiting? No plan, no way forward?” Westley’s bitterness was barely hidden as he poured yet another glass of firewhiskey. “Lives were lost, our brothers, Quinn…do they not deserve vengeance?!”

“And who do you propose we fight against?” Liam raised an eyebrow. “Tell me what you know Falconer, point those who I need to punish and I will personally raize them to the ground, Calembribor be my witness. Till then, this is not our war, not without the Imperial approval.”

“Saskia?” Darius asked quietly as the rest of the Flight turned to look at the Earl. “Is she strong enough? I mean--”

“Her majesty is strong enough as long as we stand behind her,” Liam’s tone made it clear he was not about to take any arguments. Looking around the tense group, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair once more. “While the emperor is out of his mind, we have to support the crown. For better or worse, as of this morning, Saskia Castavet is the crown as well. Remember your vows, remember them now when there is nothing else we can do.”

“I vow to bind my fate to my dragon, to honor our bond beyond all ties of blood or kin. Together, we are one. Together, we will face the fires of battle, the darkness of night, and the silence of death, without fear or falter,” Liam’s voice seemed to roll over them like cold water, all the men seeming to focus on the words with deep intensity. Darius was the first to continue.

“I swear my loyalty to the Empire, to uphold its peace, defend its people, and protect its sovereignty.I will serve with courage, acting not for myself, but for the land that gave me a home, for the crown that binds us, and for the hope that lives within our people.” the youngest of them wiped his eyes to stop tears.

“I will be the shield that guards the Empire, the flame that burns against its enemies, and the wind that carries its banner to every horizon,” Westley’s voice was raw and broken as he spoke, staring into the distance. “My strength will be the Empire's strength.”

“My life will be the Empire's life. And should my sacrifice be required, I shall make it freely, without hesitation or regret,” Emeric’s voice took over, green eyes hard.

“In unity with my Flight, with my brothers and sisters in the air, we are the protectors of this realm. We are the watchers of the sky and the keepers of ancient power. Our bond is forged in fire, in loyalty, and in trust,” Julius sea-green eyes turned to his friends, glowing with dedication and resolve.

“This I vow: to stand as a knight of the Dragon Flight, in service to the Empire, until my last breath, until the final call, until the very end,” Radisson finished the vow, his voice soft as they all went quiet, each one taking in the gravity. These were they words they all had uttered - even the emperor - as they picked up their mantle and underwent the bonding. This was their essence, their reason to exist. This was what they had to do.

“Get some rest,” Liam’s voice finally broke the tension. “Eat, sleep, grieve. Tomorrow, the empire needs to reborn stronger. Tomorrow we stand tall against those trying to bring Asterious down.”

“Long live the emperor,” came the grave response.

---

Marcus wasn’t sure how long they had been flying nor where they were. As Sylphira’s powerful wings pushed through the air, the man’s only thought was focused on the girl he held in his arms. Quinn didn’t say anything - cradled in his embrace with her head against his shoulder, she appeared to be napping and it was almost believable. Almost except for the unhealthy red of her cheeks contrasting sharply with her white skin and the shallow breathing. Her hand weakly held onto the front of his shirt, his coat now covering her as much as possible from the elements.

The hours seemed to stretch into a continuous incomprehensible moment, one that was interrupted only by the erratic beating of Marcus’ heart and his silent prayer. He wasn’t sure what he was praying for as his lips moved to words he didn’t even know, his eyes focused on the distant safety of Cliffhaven, urging the dragon forward with his will and subconscious alone. If only they could reach it, if only they could make it where Quinn could rest and where Emeric could focus on healing her. Where Marcus could focus on healing her. He coud not - would not - allow her to die.

He was consumed by that one thought, a demon in disguise that burned him. Fear, cold and relentless, was trying to make her way through every vein chilling him from the inside to the point that the wind whipping his skin and hair felt warm. Gritting his teeth, Marcus kept pushing, moving closer to Sylphira’s hide and using his body to shield his loved one from the elements. His knuckles were turning white from his grip on her body and he couldn’t tell it it hurt her but he simply was unable to let go. He could never be albe to let go.

And then it happened - he caught it from the corner of his eyes, a bright red line of blood coming from the girl’s nose, bright and dangerous. Marcus’ heart seemed to stop in the moment, his find fixating on the slow progression of the viscous substance that slid down the skin to the girl’s lips, causing her to cough. The shaking frame against his chest was like a shock running through his body, bringing him back to the present.

“Quinn?” he asked but when he got no response, his breathe caught. “Quinn!”

“I’m….I….I’m okay,” the feebleness, the eerie softness of her voice made Marcus’ heart feel as though it was being ripped in two. “I just…..I need….rest…..I need to rest.”

“No,” he shook his head angrily. “No, stay with me! Stay with me Quinn.”

“It’s alright,” she coughed, her whole body shaking. “I’m….al-”

“Sylphira!” Marcus’ desperate cry echoed in the sky, the female dragon reeling back in surprise before starting to descent, her amethyst eyes looking for a place to land among the rugged northern landscape. As soon as the powerful claws of his drake hit the ground, Marcus was off, his hands flying on the leather binding that held the girl to the saddle, his mind focusing only on the blonde braid that seemed to be shaking with every breathe. He didn’t take in the location at all, trusting his partner to evaluate it for danger. Frankly, he was weaponless - even if danger was aroud, Sylphira’s claws, fangs and fire was all he could rely on.

His duvet - bloodied and sullied - ended up on the ground, Quinn lying in his lap as he sat down, her body against him. As much as he tried, Marcus couldn’t steady his breathing, eyes darting all around for something, anything. He wasn’t sure if he was looking for a miracle, a sign or divine intervention but it didn’t stop him even as his free hand gently brushed the girl’s head.

“You’ll be okay Quinn, I got you,” his dry lips felt as though they cracked with every word. His wolfish eyes darted to her face for a second before moving to look around although he didn’t see anything. “It’s temporary - everything is alright.”

“Marcus…” Quinn’s whisper was lost with the wind, Marcus continuing to try and find something comforting. “Marcus!”

“I’m right here,” the man’s eyes focused on Quinn’s eyes. “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

“Let me go,” the blue eyes met his wild ones, sirene and soft. “Loved one, let me go.”

“No, don’t say that,” Marcus growled, “Stay strong, I’ll get you to Cliffhaven, to Emeric. He’ll heal you, we’ll move past this.”

“Marcus,” her clammy palm landed on his cheek. “I can’t stay with you. I need you to let me go - I can’t drag you down. I love and I need you to do this.”

“No, you’ll live,” Marcus felt his throat tightening. “Don’t give up - you will live and we’ll build a life together like we wanted. Fuck the system, fuck the laws and the rules and this empire. I love you - you can’t leave me. Not now, not like this!”

“You don’t mean it,” Quinn’s eyes filled with tears even as her breathing got slightly more laboured. “You love Alistair and the rest of them. You protect them with everything you have - them and the Empire. And I love you for it. I always loved you for it even when you didn’t tell me everything, even with your shadows.”

“Nothing matters like you,” Marcus’ breathe caught for a second. “Nothing ever mattered like you. I should have told you that the very first day, the very first time. If I could give up the Empire for you, I would in a heartbeat.”

“Don’t,” Quinn’s cheeks glistened with two streams of tears, Marcus’ own tears landing upon her skin and smudging some of the blood. “Tell me about our future - I want to live it now, in this moment. Give me this please.”

“The future?” Marcus paused, blinking in confusion. How could he talk about the future they would never have? About a future that had been stolen, one that they never allowed themselves to truly dream about. How many times had he wanted to through everything to the wind - his name, his dignity, his brotherhood and propose? To live away from the world, away from power and murder and politics? How often he wished he could fall asleep with her, knowing that she would be there in the morning, during the day, and curl up against him the next night? His love was a mosaic of stolen moments, another dark secret he had tried to keep hidden and one that was paid for with blood time and time again. How could he talk about the future?

“We’ll make it to Cliffhaven and you will heal - it won’t be easy but you are strong and I will be there every step of the way,” Marcus wasn’t sure how he sounded but he somehow found the strength to do what she asked. His heart twisted with every word but he forced himself to keep going. “When you recover, I would propose and, if you said yes, we’d get married within a fortnight. I’d give up my post and we’d settle in the Earldom under Liam’s protection. A small cottage on the cliffside overlooking the sea.”

“I…I think I’d like that,” Quinn’s lips flickered to a smile even as Marcus nodded silently.

“You would - every morning, I’d find you watching the sunrise, wrapped in a blanket. We’d have coffee and watch the light hit the water. Then the kids would come running - three of them, all with your eyes and your freckles. They would grow up to be adventurers and navigators, changing the world and finding their path,” the man swallowed bitterly as Quinn’s smile grew and her eyes slowly flickered shut. “We….we would grow old together and die on one day.”

“And die on one day,” the girl’s final words were whisked away by the wind, too soft to have been heard by anyone aside from the dragon whose eyes followed the invisible soul lift to the sky, her eyes growing sad. Marcus was a second behind, sensing the last of Quinn’s strength leave her body, her limbs growing limp and her fingers sliding down his skin to drop awkwardly.

“Quinn?” It was the last semblance of hope, the last desperate cry to change their fate, to move away from what had happened. Even as Marcus knew what happened, he couldn’t help trying. Hot tears, no longer held back by his resolve, streamed down onto her lifeless face, the soft dreamy smile forever etched onto her feature. “Quinn…”

And somewhere in the Norther wilderness, a lonely dragon roared the death song into the darkening night sky.

---

Liam strode wearily through the empty and silent halls - the men hadn’t stayed together long, most opting to go get lost in the oblivion of dreams or, in Radisson’s very lucky case according to Julius, in the soft embrace of a woman. The eldest knights had exchange a glance, one that should have been somewhat bemused but ended up simply exhausted. Duke Greville’s youngest son had stayed behind for a few extra moments. I’ll keep an eye on him tonight, let Emeric rest, - those were his words. Neither of them needed to say Alistair’s name aloud. Nodding in agreement and gripping Radisson’s shoulder in thanks, Liam watched his friend go. Somehow, their Flight had always been unofficially split between the seniors and the juniors - all were fantastic warriors and had special skills that allowed them to thrive but when it came to critical decisions, there was a hierarchy. Now, half of those who were always looked upon as leaders were gone, injured either physically or mentally.

Slowly, the Earl took a swig of the alcohol that had remained, making a slight face as it burned his throat before placing the bottle heavily on the table, the glass shaking slightly. There was nothing that he could do about any of it tonight - frankly, he wasn’t sure what there was to do. Too much and not enough simultaneously. With his head starting to pound, it was time to call it a night. The day seemed to have stretched out beyond what was logical - the wedding seemed to be a distant memory even though it had happened less than 24 hours ago. How could Marcus - how could they all - have missed that unrest? Didn’t Radisson experience one of the attacks first hand? How could they have forgotten?

Sighing, Liam started out of the study, waving off the butler as he passed. Freed frowned but with a bow, melted back into the shadows. The man needed yet another raise, Liam thought with grim amusement - with the chaos that descended Aegis, lesser men would have complained and floundered but Freed only sighed and snapped quiet orders to his staff, most of they already on their way to bed. They all came up to set up rooms, prepare baths, serve food and support those unexpected guests that were now recovering in various corners of the castle. He should have confirmed with his mother or the butler where everyone was situated and how they were doing but for the first moment of that day, Liam wanted to be selfish.

Soft sobs, barely audible behind the northern oak doors that led to various guest chambers forced him to freeze in the spot, his exhausted mind trying to determine if it was real. For a moment, Liam closed his eyes, listening, hoping he was mistaken. The weight of the day hung so heavy on his shoulders, and he didn’t know if he could handle anything else tonight. But there it was again—a soft, choked sound that pierced the otherwise oppressive silence. It was real, and it called to him, not as a commander, not as a lord, but as someone who understood pain.

Sighing, he felt his mind warring with his body even as he turned towards the door, his feet silent against the wooden floor. Liam had known whose room he had ended up outside even if he hadn’t planned to be here. Somehow, it seemed he had subconsciously desired to check on her even if he didn’t want to admit it. He paused, hand raised, hesitating. What was he doing? What was he planning to do? Did she even want company or for someone to see her in this moment of vulnerability?
Typically, Liam would have left - people needed the space to grieve, to relieve themselves of their emotional burden. However, what had been typical about today? The young woman had been through an array of emotions from her wedding to the coronation, the shock of the attack and the fear for Alistair. As it stood now, she had the most rights to worry about the Emperor and, in a strange way, about the empire. To leave her alone with those demons… His gaze hardened, eyes turning to ice before his knuckles rapped gently against the wood.

“Saskia?” he called gently, his voice almost a whisper, just loud enough to be heard through the wood. Nothing - the sobbing continued as though she had not heard him. Perhaps she didn’t - perhaps that was exactly what she needed. Liam frowned, his hand resting on the door. He wanted to respect her boundaries, but he couldn’t walk away. He knocked softly, the sound a mere echo in the quiet of the hall.

“Saskia, it’s Liam,” he said, his voice holding a softness that was uncharacteristic of him, but needed in this moment. “May I come in?”

He barely waited for an answer, his hand moving to the door, pushing it inward slowly to slip inside. As he allowed the hinges to swing silently, well oiled as the rest of the castle, and effectively leaving them alone, his eyes fell upon Saskia’s form on the carpet. The girl was curled up and sobbing, deaf to the worl around her, looking for the first time since he had met her as the young girl she was, handed too much all at once and, in some ways too soon. Sighing, Liam strode over, kneeling beside her. “Oh, Saskia. I am so sorry.”

He nearly toppled back as she moved towards him, her body colliding with his and his arms wrapping around her to hold her close. Swallowing hard as he felt her tears soaking his shirt, he sighed, settling them down so that his back rested against the bedframe and the young woman was curled up in his lap, clinging to him as though her life depended on it. His own hands gently rubbed her back, allowing her the freedom to be herself, all of it with all her vulnerability. In that moment, there were no ranks between them, no external expectations or norms. Not even her newly married status was enough to break the bond they shared in that moment - one build on shared responsibility and the simple, human need to be there for each other. It wasn’t passion, it wasn’t love - it was comfort and knowing that even after the day they had, there was hope.

“You should rest,” Liam’s voice was a whisper, soft and gentle. He didn’t force anything, didn’t pressure. He was there, comforting her as much as she needed and, in a strange way, receiving comfort back. He wasn’t sure how long it took her sobs to finally subside but soon enough, Saskia moved so that her head was in his lap, Liam’s fingers running through her hair slow and steady. The fireplace sizzled and crackled, slowly lulling them both into sleep with Liam sitting up against the bed and Saskia finally curling up out of comfort. It was the scullery maid - the young girl who rose early in the day to tend the fires - who found them. Signaling her to be quiet, Liam slowly moved to scoop the young empress into his arms, carrying her to the bed and laying her there, the servant gently covering her with the blanket. Taking one last look at the young woman’s sleeping face, the Earl stumbled out to find his own bed, not certain if he was disappointed he couldn’t walk away or thrilled that she had needed him like no one else.

[Hannelorian]

Saskia de Vallois, Empress of Asterious. A grand title for a young woman, a woman who no matter how prepared she had been, was overwhelmed by the anguish and sorrow she felt. And while Beatrix carried on under the illusion that she was the Empress' greatest confidant, that simply wasn't true. Saskia was only the true Saskia in front of one person, and one person alone. Liam came to her in her hour of need, and fighting through her own emotions she had allowed him to comfort her, to hold her, to run his hands through her hair as she wept and fractured and fell to pieces. It was he who showed her true and genuine kindness, who didn't feel the need to tell her it would all be alright, but simply held her and encouraged her to rest. It was his lap she fell asleep in when undoubtedly she would have never found sleep if she had been left alone. Saskia was not weak, but even the strongest of people needed their time to process, to come to terms and she could not do that while the others watched her, looked to her. But Liam saw her.

Instructions had been left to allow the Empress to sleep and so the early morning hours came and went. Did the Empress dream that night? Maybe. Or perhaps so heavy was her mind, so exhausted her body that even the most terrifying of nightmares could not break their way through to her unconscious mind. Eventually, the Empress did awaken, the glow of the fire that been kept roaring was what her eyes drifted toward. She was in bed. "Liam..." Saskia murmured softly, grateful that he had come to her, and understanding that he must have put her to bed before slipping out for his own rooms. Stretching and straining in the dark, the Empress raised a delicate hand to the long silk cord beside her bed, pulling it downward triggering a bell to ring in the servant's hall.

The assembled servants, having finished their own breakfast while meals for the guests were prepared seemed to stop in their tracks. All staring silently at the large board covered in small silver bells with placards below them displaying the names of rooms within the stately home, thus indicating where someone should turn up. "It's..." One of the maids began to say. "Her Imperial Majesty." Glances were exchanged around the room, it seemed as though they were uncertain of what to do or who should attend. No, it wasn't because they hadn't been prepared or didn't know their functions, but it seemed as though there were protocols in place and to wait on the Empress was a privilege and an honor.

"I'll go." Cora chimed in finally, at least having some personal familiarity with the Empress from the prior evening. Eventually the young woman would arrive at the doors to the Empress room and she breathed in deeply, preparing herself before slipping in. Thanks to the illumination of the fire Cora was able to set down the tea service she brought with her and made her way to the curtains, one by one drawing them opened and allowing light to flood the room. Turning to Saskia, the young maid curtsied deeply. "Good morning your Majesty." Cora said softly, careful not to look too closely at the woman, though she was rather curious.

"What time is it?" Saskia asked as she slipped out of the bed, her shoulder still sore but the bandages had held up, only a small amount of fresh blood had been spilt during the night.

"A little after nine, ma'am." Cora replied as she poured the tea and delivered a cup to Saskia. The Empress took the cup into her hand and raised the hot liquid to her lips. "I was rather hoping it was all just a bad dream." Saskia confessed aloud as she took in the room, in many ways seeing it for the first time. Her nerves had been calmed, her breathing was steady and even. Before much more could be said there was a gentle knock at the door, Saskia nodded affirmatively to Cora who went to open it, revealing the youngest Rhydderch girl who slipped inside and just as Cora had done, curtsied before the Empress.

"Your Majesty." Nora spoke appropriately as she rose. "I am..." but Saskia would interrupt her before she could finish. "Lady Nora." Saskia cracked a small smile, she was just as Liam had described, and she bore quite the family resemblance to her mother, her siblings. "A pleasure to meet you." Saskia continued as she moved across the room, taking a seat in a rather comfortable chair.

"The pleasure is mine, ma'am. I wanted to see how you were carrying on this morning." Nora was confident, bold, she held no fear of meeting the Empress, and simply wished to indulge her own curiosity. Saskia was indeed just as beautiful as they said, even now. There was a grace about her. A part of her wished the Empress had been ugly, alas. "I am well, as well as can be expected." Saskia replied. "I should thank you, I'm told you took in the boys when they arrived. Poor things..." Despite Saskia's complex feelings toward Alexander, she was glad they had been looked after and were at least safe for the time being.

"Lady Beatrix snapped them up as soon as she arrived." Nora added with a roll of her eyes, something that only made the Empress laugh a little. "Baring her teeth as she did so I assume." Saskia shook her head still smiling, Beatrix was a fierce mother, not one to be trifled with. "You could say that." Nora remarked. "You must forgive her, she's just worried. We all are, really." The Empress rose to her feet as Cora emerged with the day's dress. Black. Fitting. "How is his Majesty?" Nora finally asked, perhaps what she wanted to know all along. The question though did not catch Saskia off guard. "Your brother did say how keen you were on the Emperor." Saskia's voice grew low, almost territorial. "He is resting." That was as much as Saskia was willing to say on the matter.

The doors to Saskia's chambers opened once more, Beatrix appearing behind them, her son carried in her arms and Alexander clinging to her skirts as she moved inside. "Your Majesty." Beatrix curtsied as best she could given her situation. "And a sniveling child." Beatrix shot a wicked gaze in Nora's direction before setting her son to the floor. "Alright now boys, what do we do?" Alexander and Joseph looked at one another and stepped forward, both young gentlemen bowing to their Empress. Saskia's eyes beamed with pride as she knelt to the ground and both boys came running to her outstretched arms. She embraced them both warmly.

"Good morning you brave little knights." Saskia said as she just held on to them tightly, and they to her. "We got to ride on the back of a dragon!" Alexander spoke excitedly. "That you did, that you did." Saskia rose to her feet and pat the boys on the back. "Cora, will you get the boys something to play with?" Saskia asked as she turned her gaze toward Beatrix. "Right, we have much to discuss. Lady Nora, if you'll excuse us." Saskia nodded her head. "Yes, do let the adults speak." Beatrix added in as she waved her hand in a dismissive nature. "Oh Bea." Saskia rolled her eyes as Nora departed.

"They are our hosts, you could be a little nicer to her." Saskia suggested. "That one is trouble." Beatrix retorted and Saskia only nodded. "So they tell me. Just keep an eye on her." The Empress sighed as made her way into the adjoining room, Beatrix following quietly behind her, dressing her in the silk black gown. It was tasteful, restrained, a little more conservative than the Empress' usual tastes, but then again these were not her clothes. Beatrix pulled the woman's hair back into a neat bun. "Are you holding up?" Beatrix asked softly, Saskia turning around once dressed and nodding her head. "Barely."

"I'm glad the boys are alright." Saskia said softly as she rested her hands on Beatrix's shoulders, rubbing them gently and reassuringly. "I do need your assistance, however." Saskia glided back into the main bedroom, Cora had returned and was doing her best to keep the young men occupied. "How can I help?" Beatrix knew that George would likely be glued to Raddison for a little bit, to make sure he was alright. Beatrix would be left with slightly more responsibility until her return to duty. "Gather the Knights, Lady Margot, and George in the Earl's throne room. We'll need to discuss what our next steps are."

Beatrix nodded slowly. Folding her arms before her. "It's good to see you." Beatrix said. "I mean, it's good to see you wearing the Crown."

"Someone must. The business of the Empire continues on. We have much work to do. But not before we recognize our own." Saskia looked at herself in the mirror, she was clean, well put together. She didn't even look tired. Saskia was an expert at faking it for the group. "Lord Rhydderch, Julius, and Westley will be given honors this morning. See to it, please." The Empress commanded, she did not ask and then she left the room making her way across the hall, nodding at the guards before entering to see Alistair whose condition remained unchanged. But still she would sit with him for a time, holding his hand and speaking softly, mostly praying he would forgive her for whatever actions she was about to take that he would disagree with. But this was her duty now. To Alistair, to the Empire, to her People.

Some time had passed before everyone was able to assemble. Each person needing time for their rest, to bathe and ensure they were properly fed. To check on their beloved dragons, or on each other. One by one those requested gathered in the throne hall. A room seldom used, even by the Earl's of ages past, though it was the seat of power of Cliffhaven, and Saskia needed to project authority, now more so than ever before. As such, the Empress was the last one to enter the room, smiling as she did so, the men dropping into bows and women curtsies as she walked passed them, stopping just before the throne itself she turned to everyone gathered.

"Good morning." Saskia pushed any nerves she felt aside and kept going. "I know you are all tired. The events of yesterday weighing heavily upon your minds. Feelings of anger and grief swelling." Her words were strong, her voice was steady and measured. As she spoke she looked out over all them, stopping to look into their eyes. "I do not ask that you stifle these feelings, but embrace them, use them to fuel your forward momentum." Her face softened as her eyes rested on Liam. Perhaps acknowledging that she was far too greedy for his time and comfort. "What I do ask is that each of you trust in me. While Alistair recovers, I will do everything in my power to preserve order, to find those responsible for yesterday's heinous attacks, and ensure that the Empire carries on. When I took my vows yesterday, and Alistair crowned me, I meant every word of them. I am responsible to each of you and with your support, we will come out stronger than before."

The Empress bowed her head. Beatrix welling with pride and George standing simply in awe at the display from Saskia. She was good at this, and George only wished to support her in any way she could. "Before we begin, there is something more I must do. Liam, Julius and Westley, Lords of the Dragon, please step forward before me and kneel." Beatrix quietly moved to retrieve the ceremonial blade of the House of Rhydderch, something she had ever so politely nicked from above a mantle for this occasion and stepped forward to present the blade to Saskia who took it into her hands as the men approached and knelt.

"Julius Corleone." Saskia began, looking down at the man with a smile, she rested the flat of the blade upon his right shoulder. "For services rendered, and acts of heroism in defense of the Emperor and the Empire, I, Saskia de Vallois, Empress of Asterious hereby grant you the title and lands of Earl of Carnby, Lord of the Western Isles." Saskia deftly lifted the blade above the young man's head and rested it then upon his opposite shoulder for a moment before withdrawing. "You may rise, Lord Carnby."

The Empress took several steps to her right, now standing before Liam, and repeated the same process, resting the flat of the blade upon his right shoulder. ""For services rendered, and acts of heroism in defense of the Emperor and the Empire, I, Saskia de Vallois, Empress of Asterious hereby elevate you to the position of Duke of Cliffhaven. And in so doing, I make this elevation retroactive, creating your father as the first Duke of Cliffhaven, thereby entitling his widow, the Lady Margot the use of the title Dowager Duchess." Saskia bowed her head and placed the blade upon his left shoulder. "Further, I formally entrust you with command of the armed forces of Asterious, and name you interim First Minister, until such a time as the Emperor may make the position formal or reallocate your expertise. You may rise, Lord Rhydderch, Duke of Cliffhaven."

"Lord Falconer." Saskia finally turned her attention to Westley, the pain in his eyes entirely clear. "There is no land which I may bestow upon you that will make right the loss of your sister." The Empress set the sword aside and rested a hand on the young man's shoulder. "The nation will never understand how great a loss Quinn's passing truly is. But we will always know, each and every one of us here, just how special and loved Quinn was. We will keep her memory near and dear to our hearts. We will treasure our time spent with her and the kindness she showed to every living soul." The Empress could feel a tear or two welling within her and fought like hell to push it down. "And though she was gravely injured, you fought on, alongside your brothers in defense of the Empire. And that is worthy of recognition." Saskia smiled and extending her hand downward, allowed Westley to rise before her. "I bestow upon you the Honors of Saint Catherine for services rendered to the Empire in our greatest hour of need. An award, which will do nothing to ease your grief and your burden, but one which will command the respect of the entire Empire. You have our gratitude and our hearts."

Saskia removed a delicate white broach from her dress, the image of a small dove, and pinned it upon Westley's uniform. "I will have something proper commissioned when we return to the capital, but for now, please accept it." Saskia nodded her head and took a step back. "My good Lords and Ladies. I thank you all for your service, and now, we have plans to make. Lady Rhydderch, you may be excused."

[Breggo13]

Lady Margot - the Dowager Duchess Lady Margot now - sank into a deep curtsy before the empress, her features as impecably controlled as her son. Without a second look, she left from the room, head held high. It was always impressive how similar his mother was to the Dowager Empress in her grace and composure though unlike Carina, Margot was the epitome of grace and kindness. As the doors were closed by footmen standing outside, the men gathered seemed to take a moment to process what had occurred.

“Lord Carnby - blimey, that’s a mouthful,” Julius was the first to break the tension, his sea-green eyes shining with pleasure even as he made light of his new title. “I’ll be turning around for months, trying to understand who people are talking to.”

“Thankfully, we can still call you di--” Radisson started before glancing at the ladies and clearing his throat. With his ears tinged pink, he finally finished, “--dilusional.”

“As the healer, that is an accurate diagnostic,” Emeric confirmed before coming to shake Westley. “Congratulations brother and….I’m sorry.”

The blonde nodded, his expression stormy as he looked at the white broche that Saskia handed him, dark blue eyes full of anger. Tucking the gift into his pocket, he jutted his chin out in determination. Emeric bit his lip, his gaze asking his friends for assistance. Darius looked no better, seeming to have spent half the night mourning. Radisson looked exhausted but none the less, he wrapped his arms around George, standing behind his betrothed. None of his friends had the heart to begrudge him because amongst the sorrow, at least one of them had to have some good luck.

Liam looked rather exhausted, much like the rest with dark shadows under his eyes but he only shook his head, his eyes moving to meet Saskia’s, silently asking if she was alright. He wasn’t expecting the sudden elevation but he was not against it - at this moment, even among their own, Saskia had to establish her power now that she was the empress and the sole person who could lead the empire while Alistair was recovering. He hadn’t been able to do much this morning before attending the summons of the impromptu court, stumbling out of bed at Freed’s announcement and somehow slipping into his clothes. Liam still craved a shower, he craved a long nap and he craved a hot meal. However, things had to be sorted and deal with and thus, there was nothing more to do but suck it up. He was getting rather good at it.

“Your majesty is too kind,” Darius smiled at Saskia as he helped her down the dias, leading her towards the rest of their group. Liam raised an eyebrow but with a shake of his head, didn’t say anything, instead catching Freed’s eyes and silently nodding. Almost immediately, the butler ushered in an array of footmen, all carrying comfortable chairs and a huge table that must have been recovered from storage, setting it down. Maids came to quickly wipe it down and set a light breakfast in the middle, tea and coffee set to the side. And just as quickly, the whole army of servants disappeared, Freed bowing and melting to the other side of the door, closing it behind him.

“Tell me honestly, how did you train them so well? I want my household to rival the might Cliffhaven duchery once I set it up,” Julius gave a low whistle.

“As though you would ever settle down,” Darius teased gently as he looked at the empress. “Your majesty, may I assist you?”

[Hannelorian]

The Empress smiled softly as Liam's eyes fell upon her, immediately understanding that he wished to know if she was alright. Hopefully that smile, no matter how small or soft and the subtlest nod of her head conveyed that she was alright. Saskia took Darius' hand and stepped off the small platform, when the table had been prepared she once again took the hand of the young man as she was lead to her seat at the head of the table, as she sat he pushed the chair in quite elegantly. "Thank you Darius." Saskia spoke, giving him another nod of her head. "We haven't forgotten your father either. I am so sorry. If you need anything, you need not hesitate to ask." Saskia's words were genuine, and she wanted to make sure Darius knew he had her support.

Beatrix and George took their seats at the table, the exhaustion both of them felt was finally beginning to set in. "Your Majesty, are you alright?" George finally broke a somewhat uncomfortable silence as those around the table began to gather food. The look on George's face was one of worry, concern. Her hand quietly shifted beneath the table to reach for Raddison's to hold it gently, squeezing occasionally. "That's a stupid question... how could you be? How could any of us be?" George shook her head.

"George... mind your tongue." Beatrix said in a low voice, her head tilted downward and to the side, giving the woman a glare, reminding her of propriety.

"No. It's alright Beatrix." Saskia spoke as she gazed across the table, her eyes shifting from person to person to meet them all with a sense of warmth and understanding. "None of us are okay. And for the moment that is okay." The Empress sighed softly and shook her head. "We are all entitled to our sorrow and our grief. We need time to mourn, to heal, to reflect. But what we cannot do, is allow that to overwhelm us, to weigh is down so heavily it destroys our very spirits."

While Saskia spoke George had risen from her chair and moved to pour Saskia tea, preparing it exactly as the Empress liked it. As Quinn had taught her to prepare it. The thought brought a pang of sadness to the Princess as she set the cup and saucer down before Saskia who took it gratefully into her hands.

"I will make this brief, as I am confident none of you have had the rest you require." The Empress set down the cup and once more looked across the room. "What we need is information, as much of it as we can get, as quickly as we can. Death tolls, the names of those lost, the extent of the damage to the Cathedral, if the fire spread. Thankfully it's an old stone building so it should have been relatively contained." The Empress thought for a moment. "If we can identify any of the bodies of the slain assailants, that gives us a place to start. Family, friends, known associates. Someone knows who these people are and who they are working with."

"I'll send word to my birds, all of them." Beatrix nodded her head, offering what little help she could. "Good." Saskia responded rather quickly. "Imperial Officers need to be canvassing Valadis and the outlying areas, stopping at pubs, taverns, known gathering spots. Though discretely, no breaking down doors or haphazard arrests." It was clear that if anything, Saskia had been giving this all a great deal of thought. "We also need to issue a written statement from the Emperor. Stating he is alive and well, and that justice will be swiftly delivered to those that dare strike at the heart of the Empire from within or without. And that message must be delivered to every city, every town, but we can allow the heralds in Valadis to handle that."

Saskia paused for a moment in thought. "I'll send word to Carina to organize a memorial for the souls lost. We can arrange a state funeral for whenever we return and the Emperor is recovered." The Empress Leaned back into her chair. "I am asking a lot, and for a lot of trust. We cannot simply sit idly by and wait for something else to happen. But most importantly, despite my barking of orders, I wish for you all to rest and recover." Saskia's gaze settled on Liam, she knew that he likely hadn't had much rest at all, spending most of the night at her side, giving her much needed comfort and support. Even now in his exhaustion, he was a truly handsome man, one who looked every bit the part he played.

"So just a small list of things then?" George said in a somewhat joking tone, eliciting a tiny laugh from the Empress. "If I might make one other suggestion for Raddison and George, as impertinent as it may be..." Saskia looked at the couple. "Something wicked this way comes, and we all know it. Tomorrow is not a guarantee for any of us. You may wish to move the wedding up, as soon as you can. Right here at Cliffhaven."

George looked at the Empress, then to Raddison and nodded gravely. "We will talk it over with Lord Greville." George said in a sheepish tone.

"If that is all, you are all dismissed." Saskia concluded.

[Breggo13]

Liam watched the troops leave, his pale eyes taking in their silhouettes even as he shook his head, knowing that the young empress would not begrudge him a word alone. It was a bit brash and a bit against the normal rules however, he trusted his people and it was hardly a time where normality was the default. Sighing, he reached for his cup of coffee, impassive as the door shut behind the last of his friends.

“It would be good if they talked it over with the Lord of Cliffhaven,” he replied quietly, his eyes moving towards Saskia. “You seem to have a good understanding of what needs to be done, your majesty but may I offer some advice?”

“The rebels are based in the Northern mountains - that is their home base of sorts. Till recently, they planned and schemed on smaller scale, never so bold under Sebastian’s rule. It has now changed - they have gotten much bolder,” Liam paused to take a sip, his gaze moving to meet Saskia’s. “Perhaps we should use this time to focus on the root - find their leaders and see what they desire. We will be chasing a loose trail in the capital without enough facts and spending too any resources trying to find facts with little return. The commoners won’t turn them over easily - these are sons, fathers, brothers, husbands. For all we know, even daughters. They may lie to our faces.”

“We don’t have long - I do not have long. Come the spring, I will be needed in the Southern border,” the blonde leaned back, sighing with the weight of the world on his shoulders. “And you will be preparing for your confinement. Your first, I pray, with Alistair.”

“Emeric did check on him this morning - the Emperor is,” Liam paused, trying to find the words but with a glance at his companion, he sighed. “He’s in a trance. He stabalized but he needs rest and prayer - there is no telling when he will wake up. It could be days or weeks or…”

He didn’t finish but the truth hung in the air. Or ever.

---

Radisson sighed, stumbling towards the room he shared with George. Or rather, the suite of rooms. As newly betrothed, they had been given connecting bedrooms with small dressing rooms with bathtubs. Not as grand as his rooms in Caelum Fortis, they were finely redone and each space in the room made to maximize utilization. The bed was freshly made - unlike the rest of the men, Radisson had spent his night outside Alistair’s bedroom, only relieved when Emeric came to check on him. He had barely been there in George’s bed for twenty minutes, breathing in the scent of her hair before the servants came knocking, forcing him to retreat.

“We have a bath waiting for you sir,” the footman bowed as he helped Radisson out of his jacket, “You haven’t seemed to have had one when you arrived.”

“I guess not,” Radisson sighed. “Thank you…?”

“Zachary, milord,” the man turned to hang the jacket. “Would you require my assistance?”

“No - I will manage,” the knight started slipping out of the rest of his clothes. “Wake me up to dress for dinner or if Liam - the Duke - is looking for me. Or--”

“If you are needed, I will fetch you milord. Leave your clothes here - I will ensure they are washed and bring new ones. If you need me, please ring,” Zachary quickly placed thick towels by the bath as Radisson stripped to his naked body, picking up the laundry and disappearing into the back corridors as Radisson slid into the hot water with a thankful sigh of pleasure and relaxation, closing his eyes.

---

Julius Carleone had been a young lad when his parents passed away, leaving him and his siblings in the care of their uncle. Watching Francesco lose his childhood early as he was given the title of duke at fourteen and his sister growing up practically an orphan, remembering nothing of the man and woman who gave her life, the Dragon Knight had made a habit of not letting the darkest times of life get to him. Under his presumably light demeanor, however, was a man of self-reliance, resilience and quick-wit. With his longer than typical chocolate hair pulled back in a half-updo and his feet resting on the table balancing the chair on two legs, Julius was engulfed in a novel.

Unlike the rest of his friends, Julius liked to spend time engrossed in books that spoke not of war or history but of distant, magical lands and fantastical beasts. Stuck on the southern front, he couldn’t help admiring the strange creatures he had to fight alongside Keiko. A jack of all trades and often unable to simply sit around doing nothing, he was sent to the various missions to discover missing information. That too fueled his love for books - at first, Alistair and Marcus both thought it was silly to carry a book with him but Liam understood. As such, he had often ordered books to be brought down from Cliffhaven, rotating them for the young Islander who seemed to devour their contents at the speed of light.

In some way, it was his own way to deal with grief - a place he could escape to and be someone else. Over the years, as he was surrounded by death and danger, he lived the lives of heroes and villains, young underdogs and those who were blessed by faith. He cried and laughed, he fell in love and fought evil. If left to his own devices, the dandy of the group was quite content to read late into the night, forgetting about time as he traversed yet another adventure. Although today, his read was rather unexpected - he picked up the book at the recommendation of one of the maids who was all too keen to flirt with him but he hadn’t realized it was about a family of five daughters, trying to snatch a man. It was rare that Julius found himself in the shoes of a young woman.

Turning another page, he couldn’t help a chuckle as he came upon a rather hilarious scene. The ball - a highlight for the small rural town - was in an uproar as the main character’s family made a fool of themselves, one after the other. In some ways, that often seemed what he and half the men he called brothers did though, it did make for entertaining stories. Pausing, his mind drifted to a memory from their younger days, when Darius was yet to join their flight. They had been at some country ball and the amount of alcohol they consumed….Julius’ grin widened. By God above, he couldn’t even remember the exact amount.

[Hannelorian]

"Weeks or...?" Saskia began, however she was willing to say what Liam was not. "Or ever?" The Empress sighed deeply, she stood and took several steps toward Liam, eventually coming to rest against the large table. "You needn't watch your words with me." Saskia folded her arms in front of her. "We'll cross that bridge if we come to it." Saskia was careful to emphasize the word if. There was no way of knowing at present what would happen with Alistair. She did pray for his swift recovery, but at the same time she wondered if this brief respite might not help her right the ship of state before it was too late.

Saskia pushed herself forward and closed the distance between herself and Liam. "You look tired." Once more a hand raised to press against his cheek, cupping it softly, feeling the warmth of his flesh. "You need rest." Her thumb stroked his cheek as she let her hand then fall to his shoulder, squeezing a bit. "You need food." Saskia leaned in for a moment, sniffing about "and a bath." The corners of her mouth upturned into a smile, no matter how brief it may be. Of course Saskia had not ignored the advice he gave her. Rather, she took her time, almost savoring this personal moment between them.

"The Imperials in the capital, it's more of a show of strength, to demonstrate we take it seriously. You're absolutely right, no one is going to turn over their loved ones willingly." The Empress took a step back. "To the North it is. Allocate the resources you need." Saskia placed her trust in him, she would take him at his word, and if he knew the rebels were holing up in the northern mountains, than he would have to root them out where they lived. Saskia could only nod, giving a final mark of her assent to his plan. "I never got to thank you. Huh..." Saskia shook her head and let out a faint giggle as she realized what she had been doing.

"I'm always thanking you for something it seems. But in this case, for last night. You could have walked away, pretend you hadn't heard me." The Empress once more had allowed her guard to drop, it was just the two of them. They could be themselves. "Yesterday... was a nightmare. And it is my job to be strong enough to carry an Empire on my back. As Alistair does every day." Saskia stared at Liam for a moment, her eyes boring into him, as though staring into his soul. "I would hate for you to think me weak because I still have those feelings of sorrow and horror and doubt. But I can't show anyone that personal side... I am a figurehead, not a person. I am the Empress, not Saskia."

Saskia struggled at times, but she was strong, she had no choice. "You are the only one who knows Saskia. And I needed you, so thank you for being there." Saskia's emotions were a glorified jumble. One she hardly knew how to explain, if it could be explained. She loved her husband the best she could, she would support him with everything in her being, she would die for him and the Empire if she had to. But she was in love with the man who stood before her. "Go on, I've kept you too long already." Saskia nodded her head, giving him the final okay to leave.

---

George appeared in the doorway to the bathing chamber, leaning against the frame as Raddison had relaxed into the hot water. "Zachary seems nice." She mused quietly, rolling her eyes just a bit as she spoke. "Julius did have a point, this place runs almost as smoothly as Caelum Fortis." George stepped further into the room, seating herself on the edge of the tub, turning to look down at Raddison. In some moments she was amazed still that he was to marry her. Young Georgiana would have laughed at the thought.

George's hand reached behind and slowly pulled at the strings of her corset, unravelling them and loosening the garment enough so she could comfortably slip out of it. Standing up for a moment George pushed the rest of the outer dress aside. "I suppose you must be exhausted." It was with a few further flourishes that George was able to rid herself of her shift and raising on leg she sank it into the water, then the other before lowering herself down to a seated position atop her intended. "Forgive me, I just want to be close to you... I suppose I could let you sleep." George really was just grateful that Raddison was unharmed, at least physically. She understood that he must be suffering given all that had happened. Even if it was selfish, she was just so overjoyed he had returned to her.

George leaned over and pressed her lips to Raddison's hungrily, as though she had been deprived of him for months, her arms moving to rest on his shoulders, her fingers intertwining amongst themselves behind him. It was only a few moments before she paused. "So... do we do it? Marry sooner than we intended? Live like there's no tomorrow?" George wasn't opposed to the idea, but she needed to be sure that Raddison agreed. It didn't matter to her now, she was just as committed to the idea now as she was when she said yes to his proposal.

--

Nora, the youngest of Ladies Rhydderch was on a mission. She needed to prove herself useful, she refused to sit idly by while the others worked toward something, even if she didn't quite know what that something was. There were children here, for the first time since herself had been a little girl. Surely they must need something to entertain them. Nora had settled on finding them a book to read, or a book to be read to them. Even if Beatrix stopped her from being directly involved, she would at the very least not deny the children an opportunity to do something productive. Or so she thought.

Slipping silently into the library the young woman's porcelain hands rested on the heavy wood of the door and slowly, slowly pushed it closed as softly as she could. Carried on the air was the scent of must of the old books and the sound of faint giggling. She hadn't expected to find anyone in here, perhaps a servant? No, everyone would be unusually busy given the number of guests at the sprawling estate. Determine to discover the source Nora gently removed her shoes, bare feet were the quietest feet she reckoned.

Nora moved nearly silently through the stacks until she came to see the table where Julius sat, engrossed in some novel or some such, so much so that he seemed not to realize that she was here and was watching him from a slight distance. Nora recognized the man from the group of riders that came through, but she hadn't recalled ever seeing him before. Had she met him? Maybe when she was younger? Maybe never before. He was handsome, much like the others. Nora always found it unfair that the riders of the flight were the handsomest men in the realm, most doomed to die an early death. What a waste.

The next thing Julius would feel was a hand coming down on his boot, slowly picking his foot up and removing it from the table. "Boots are for floors, not tables." Nora said rather disdainfully, though in truth it hadn't really bothered her. She was only looking for a way to invite herself into the situation and this seemed just as good a way as any. Sure she could have just tried a simple hello. "And here I thought the men of the flight didn't know how to read." There was a wild smirk across her face as she picked the book out of his hands, her fingers keeping his place in the pages. She turned it around to scan the title. "It's a good one." She commented as she handed the book back to the man.

"But if that's your cup of tea." Nora quickly disappeared into the rows upon rows of books and finally retrieved something, bring it back and sliding it across the table toward Julius. "Then you'll love this."