Work Text:
Rumors had swept across Enbarr already when Petra was summoned to the palace. King Dmitri Blaiddyd, backed by the combined forces of Faerghus, Leicester, and the Church of Seiros, had broken Fort Merceus. As the last major fortification before Enbarr, it had been designed to be impregnable. Anxiety hung over the city, a dread that the war was finally in its final stage.
Walking through the familiar halls of the palace, Petra knew well enough that the soldiers, though stone-faced, were trembling within. She found two royal guards waiting by the doors to the throne room, elite soldiers who have served the Imperial family for decades… and who, soon, would likely die in the line of duty, protecting the last heir of the Hresvelg line. Even they smelled of fear.
“Princess Macneary, please,” one would say, opening the door for her.
“Thank you, Michaelis,” Petra answered, her accent still thick even after so many years away from home.
When she walked into the grand throne room, she noticed how absolutely barren it felt. Normally, this room was always bustling, and with room enough for an audience of four hundred, it nonetheless was nearly devoid of life. No royal soldiers were here, no courtiers or minstrels. At the end of the long throne room sat Edelgard. She had removed her crown and hair dressings, letting the white hair fall past her shoulders in a manner so very like their days at the Academy. Hiding in the shadows, apparently thinking himself undetected by the keen huntress, was Hubert, one hand tucked under the folds of his suit. He was never far from the Emperor.
As Petra approached the throne, Edelgard rose up out of it. She walked over to meet Petra, and in a sight never seen by those outside their close circle of friends, she wrapped her arms around her. Petra knew this was coming, and her own arms returned the embrace. Edelgard put her head on Petra’s shoulder, and took great, heaving breaths while they hugged in silence for several seconds.
“Casper and Linhardt… they’re both gone, Petra,” Edelgard whispered, her voice hoarse with sorrow.
“So I have been hearing,” Petra responded, her voice just as sad. “They were good friends. I will be missing them greatly.”
“It’s all my fault. Bernadetta and Ferdinand died, too. Dorothea… do you remember her?”
“The most beautiful voice in Enbarr,” Petra answered demurely. She knew why she was brought up: Dorothea would be marching against them.
“We’re losing everyone,” Edelgard trembled, now barely holding back the sobs. “I was going to change the world. I-I only wanted to make things right.”
Petra tightened her hug. Edelgard did the same. For over a minute, no words would be exchanged, only the comfort of two friends mourning their losses. Eventually, Hubert seemed to decide that they are done, appearing from the shadows and clearing his throat quietly. Edelgard took the hint, and though both are reluctant to let go, Edelgard released the hug. Petra noticed her quickly wipe a tear away with the back of her glove.
“We’ve begun making preparations for the city’s defense,” Hubert said, his voice as cool and level as always. Petra had never known him to break character. “Dimitri has sent terms for a surrender.”
“But you will not surrender,” Petra assumed correctly.
“I will not,” Edelgard answered resolutely, but unlike in public, she did not bother to hide the anxiety in her tone.
“Then where am I positioned?”
This question drew a noticeable moment of hesitation, and Petra noticed Edelgard’s eyes flicker to meet Hubert’s. Hubert would then pull his hidden hand out from his clothing, revealing a letter sealed with the Hresvelg crest. Petra accepted the offered letter, but with some confusion on her face. Before she could break the seal, Edelgard raised a hand to stop her.
“I can tell you what is inside; the contents will need to be shown to your people. I have already arranged for a ship to leave in secret tomorrow night, before the army arrives to put us under siege,” Edelgard began.
“Is this a plan to rule… what is the word… in exodus?” Petra asked, now sounding quite worried indeed. Her people would have trouble accepting Edelgard in their home.
“In exile, Petra,” Edelgard corrected gently. She let out a short sigh, and shook her head.. “And no. The ship is only for you and the Brigid soldiers you brought with you.”
This was the moment when Petra realized what was really going on. Her eyes shot wide open, and she lunged forward to grab Edelgard’s hand with her free one.
“No! I will not be leaving you!” she shouted desperately. “Come with me, Edelgard! My home has many rooms for friends!”
Edelgard’s eyes began to water. She could easily break Petra’s grip, she was plenty strong enough. She instead wrapped her other hand over Petra’s, and her voice shook as she proceeded.
“The letter. ‘By the covenant between the red blood and the white sword; by the double-headed eagle of House Hresvelg; by the…’” Edelgard closed her eyes when Petra tightened her grip. “‘By the bond between liege and vassal… The union of Adrestia and Brigid is dissolved. The nation of Brigid is hereby absolved of all obligations to the Adrestian Empire, and may form its own laws and treaties as an independent and sovereign nation.’ There’s more to it, but that’s, well, the important bit.”
Edelgard opened her eyes, and she immediately noticed the tears on Petra’s cheeks. Petra let go, only to force Edelgard into another spine-crushing hug. The Emperor, of course, had no desire to reject it.
“Please, Edelgard! Please come back to Brigid, you are the greatest friend!” Petra pleaded. “If you die here…!”
“No, Petra. I’m sorry, but I can’t,” Edelgard whispered. “This is my war, my path. I must see it through to the end, whatever the cost.”
“Then I shall stay, too!” Petra yelled defiantly.
“Absolutely not!” Edelgard answered. “You are the Princess of Brigid! Your people need you! This is a chance for you all to start over, to leave the war before it ever comes to your shores. I’m giving you what Brigid fought for all those years ago!”
“My people need me, but so do you,” Petra argued, finally pulling back from the hug to stare her tearful eyes into Edelgard’s. “I am the best hunter you know. I killed Catherine at Gronder Field. I nearly killed Dimitri, even.”
Edelgard reached up, wiping Petra’s tears from her cheeks. She hated this choice. She could not allow Petra to stay and die for her. Already, she had lost so many friends to the war she started, a war that grew harder to see through with every death. Had she been a weaker woman, she may have surrendered long ago. Even so, dying side by side with Petra could hardly be a more poetic end to a friendship that started with a rebellion and a hostage in all but name.
“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, but this is not a request. I am ordering you to get on that boat and go home,” Edelgard says, her voice far softer than her usual imperious tone.
Petra stared at her in stunned silence. Edelgard never, in all their years together, pulled rank and gave her an order. Even in wartime, she had always known what her choices were. She had fought for friendship, not out of vassalized obligation. Then again…
“You cannot order me anymore, Edelgard,” Petra reminded her, a tiny smile cracking across her lips. “I will fight for you, and I will not be dying far from home, because together, we will win this battle.”
Edelgard’s resolve finally broke. Reminded of her own decree, she burst out in a single, sad laugh, and nodded her head. She could not stop Petra, not when their resolves finally met together.
“Then let’s figure out where you’ll be positioned.”