She looks down at the box, brow furrowing a little at it as she starts unbinding the present. Then, curious, she lifts the lid to reveal...the exquisite rapier that sits upon soft packaging. She takes her current weapon and swaps it for the new Bozjan relic, making sure the foci don't get too close in the process.
"Holy Solus! She's beautiful!" the duellist exclaims, immediately standing up and testing the weapon's balance. It is, of course, absofuckinglutely perfectly balanced.
"I have.. been meaning to.. have this delivered sooner.. from Bozja. 'Tis a relic reborn from.. the old tales of Bozja," he explains to her. "My father... He had this be commissioned by a blacksmith.. working with the Bozjan resistance. It is.. yours now, Aquila."
The Seeker notes the blade, stating, "Thought I recognised that, excellent taste in blades, Byleth, that looks absolutely incredible."
She shifts out of a combative stance, giving Leth a wide-eyed expression.
"Jeralt...had this commissioned? So he could fence?" she asks in a bewildered tone.
The Bozjan nods in Karuis' direction. He then looks back at her and explains, "In my father's journal... He had explained to me that.. he was a Blade. A.. Queen Gunnhildr's Blade, the journal said. But.. yes, he was an.. excellent swordsman."
She looks back down at the blade in her hand, tearing up a little; she still feels a little guilty for Jeralt's death.
Confused, he asks softly, "I.. do not understand... Is the gift.. unsatisfactory..?"
Meanwhile, her twin just smiles.
The rest of the collective group keep quiet, letting the scene play out for a bit longer as they listen in.
She looks back up at her lover, giving him a delighted smile that half the room's never seen before.
"No, Leth. It's absolutely perfect," she answers, adding, "I just...miss your dad, is all."
Her reflection nods in agreement, "He was a good man; I'm sorry we couldn't do more..."
"I see..." the Bozjan looked down at the floor for a moment and closed his eyes. A passing thought and mental image of his father goes through his mind's eye. He then lifts his head and opens his eyes. "He is.. resting in peace now. Bozja is free. His memory.. is now with that weapon, Aquila. Please... Do me the honour.. and keep it."
"And... He was, Liocyon. Thank you," the minty-haired Hyur agrees before giving the rest of the pleasantries, "... Happy nameday, you two."
She nods slowly at her boyfriend before looking down at the weapon.
"Does she have a name?" she asks quietly, glancing to the frog-closure scabbard on her right hip, making sure it'll work for the new blade.
The ginger Miqo'te songstress smiles gently as she watches from afar, one hand reaching for the Highlander beside her's hand to squeeze it, as her tail brushed against the Seekers leg.
"The smith who.. forged this has called it... Talekeeper."
She seems to be packing up some things into a small pack, many different articles of light clothing.
The Bozjan enters the bedroom by passing through the curtain threshold. Upon seeing her packing something into a small pack, he'd speak up and ask, "What.. are you doing?"
"The Outlaw's got a contract from Dalmasca," she explains as she looks over her shoulder. "We're going into Golmore to rescue a bunch of Rava the Empire's been using as...living incubation chambers."
He crosses his arms over his chest and cants his head curiously. "Living.. incubation chambers..?"
There's a slight nod as she finishes packing.
"Yeah...for clones of a hypertuned sharpshooter named Novinius," she clarifies for him. "The guy we killed in Velciff. They were apparently manufacturing more of him."
"Hmph... If he is.. someone that you've killed before," he considers aloud, "then making sure that.. he doesn't come back in a sense would be.. a priority."
He's given another slight nod in response.
"He broke an oath made to the Creed, a group that some of the crew trained with," she continues as she ties the satchel closed. "Everyone was relieved when he was killed, but now..."
Frowning, the Bozjan notes as he uncrosses his arms, "Now.. you will all need to just.. prevent him from returning."
"Yeah, and kill of the bastard who's doing all this," she adds as she turns to face him. "Who also was thought to be dead. Guy called the Butcher. Friend of my Father's. That should tell you enough."
This gives her lover pause before he quietly asks, "... You have a sense of.. responsibility to this, don't you? Because of this Butcher's connection to your father."
She nods a little.
"So does Lio. The...woman who came to ask for our help was..." her voice trails off as she shivers a little, "...she was more bits and pieces than a whole. I dunno how they got her back into the shape she's in now, short of a Padjali hiding somewhere in the crew."
"I see," he intones before asking, "Will your brother.. be joining you on this mission?"
"This is a whole crew effort, yeah," she explains to him as she nods. "We're...going so far as to take the Arcadia instead of the Outlaw," she confirms for him. "It's...possibly a suicide mission if any of us fuck up."
She sets the pack down on the ground. "If this Butcher's anything like Father...the place is more well-guarded than most castrums are."
He frowns a lot when she says that this is possibly a suicide mission. "Are you... serious?"
"I am. Novinius could shoot a man down from malms away, perfect headshots," she answers quietly with a nod. "His clones may or may not be capable of the same. Variants could be even more dangerous than the original - just look at Merrick."
The Bozjan takes a few steps closer to her, staring directly into her blue eyes with his almost-luminescent green eyes.
"I did not.. ask about a dead man's clones. I asked you... if you are serious about this mission," he gently corrects before asking more questions. "A suicide mission? And Liocyon is going as well..?"
She reflexively reaches down to grasp both of his hands, nodding a little.
"Yeah, I am. So's Lio," she answers, now that he's clarified the question. "It's dangerous, but as long as everyone plays their part...we'll make it back alive...I think."
In a tone that reveals his disappointment, he asks, "... And you were not.. thinking of asking me.. to join you, were you?"
"I...don't have a choice, Leth. Locke's not against you joining the crew, but this isn't just some slaver run," she quietly explains to him. "We got the request last night, not long after getting back from Coerthas. If there were more time, he might agree to it...but..."
"You have just returned from Coerthas.. after spending a lot of your still-growing aetherpool, and now.. you are being sent on a mission.. that is highly dangerous," he shakes his head, and not realizing that his hands had been grabbed yet. "This is.. ridiculous."
She fidgets a little at that.
"I've gained most of it back, and the rest was made up for with aetherwine," she assures him softly, gently squeezing his hands. "We don't always get the luxury of a full recovery."
Sighing, the man relents a little, "No... No, we are not. Not on a battlefield and not even... at home."
Letting go of one of his hands, she reaches up to touch his cheek as she speaks, "You went off to Zadnor alone and came back. I'm sure I'll be fine in Golmore with an entire crew beside me."
He narrows his gaze and opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out besides air. She's got him there. The Hyur closes his eyes and lowers his head, slightly leaning into the touch of her hand.
"... Promise me that.. you will return." He murmurs.
"I-- at best, I can promise I'll do everything in my power to," she replies to the request, frowning, "but there's no way I can promise I will, not with how many unknown factors there are, on top of the known risks."
"... That is.. a fair point," he admits before falling silent for a long moment.
A very long moment.
"If you do come back to me..." he softly states, almost shyly, "then... then..."
Her head cants as she murmurs, "Then...what?"
The Bozjan raises his head and opens his eyes to look her directly in the eyes as he states, with conviction, "...I will promise...that we will...marry."
His declaration causes her to blink a lot. Then, her mouth falls open, and for a moment, the troubadour is quite speechless. The best she can do, at first, is nod faintly. Then, her mouth closes, and she leans her forehead against his, biting her lower lip to keep her emotions in check.
"...I'll fight like hell to come back to you, Leth. Promise."
He took one step forward before leaning in to press his forehead against hers. When they are met, Byleth closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath.
"That...is what I wanted to hear. And I promise you...as well, Quil," he states with a soft smile.
She enjoys the moment briefly, shifting to embrace him as she sighs softly.
"...that aside...why were you upset yesterday?" she asks quietly.
The Bozjan embraces her also but would hesitantly answer her question.
"...I was...upset yesterday because...you were claiming to be...a Bozjan Blade." He keeps her in his arm, but he pulls back enough to look at her. "The title of Blade is...not so easily or freely given, Quil."
"Blades are...given a badge of...honour to show that...they are indeed Blades. You...are not a Blade. You do not...have a badge. If the knight had...called you on your bluff and...you could not prove yourself, then we...might not have been able to enter the castle," he explains quietly. "Carrying Talekeeper...isn't enough to persuade others that are...not knowing of Bozjan traditions. No one but us...would understand the weight of both Talekeeper and... Crownsblade."
She blinks several times, frowning a little as she gazes at him.
"It was just a bluff, though I've always been willing to help continue Jeralt's legacy," she explains to him. "But...we really didn't have many options, and I could have glamoured something to look like the badge they carry."
"It's quite possible, with how far out Lucine was, that he doesn't have any idea what all a Blade would have," she adds as she reaches up to gently brush some of his hair out of his face. "I'm sorry if doing such upset you, but I couldn't think of another way they'd let a Garlean commanding a squad in."
"T'was...a bluff that did work in our favour in the end, but 'twas also dangerous if they did not...believe us and instead...attacked us," the Hyur sighs as the Garlean brushes some of his hair out of his face. "I know...that you wish to...honour and continue my father's legacy. I would not have...given you Talekeeper if...I thought otherwise."
"I did not...understand why I was...upset at first, but...I later realized that...I may have...developed...hm, developed...Ah, a sense of.. pride. As a... Bozjan, I suppose. The title that I now carry.. like the one that.. my father also carried..." he states, nodding here and there before adding, "I'm sorry, Quil."
"You...were made a Blade? Officially?" she asks as she blinks, confused. "When?"
He nods in confirmation before answering with, "Before the campaign in Zadnor...there were other Blades of Gunnhildr before we...had arrived to meet my father. In my father's passing...in the betrayal of a resistance member, the remaining Blades were tempered and transformed...into monsters. Or so...I have read in reports. The ranks of the Blades of Gunnhildr...were incredibly low to empty. New Blades...like myself, had to be...recruited during the...Zadnor campaign."
She just stares at him for a long moment.
"Do...they have any idea that I have Talekeeper?" she asks, rather plainly as she starts to get fidgety again. "Are they going to be okay with that?"
"They...do not know that you are in possession of Talekeeper. Talekeeper and Crownsblade were...entrusted to me after...Bozja was liberated, and...I do not know how they will react...to you having it. But...that is not for them to decide," he says with a shake of his head.
Again, she goes quiet and stares at the Bozjan for a long moment.
"...but it's a Blade's weapon...I'd think they'd have some say over it?" she asks, concerned. "I mean, if they get upset, I'm okay with giving it back. If they don't and still need help, I'm willing to do that too. I just don't want you to have this stripped from you over me."
"...Aquila, you...do make some fine points. I find it hard...to protest against what...you are saying, but...It is okay...that you keep using Talekeeper," he insists to her. "If we ever return to Bozja...and meet with the Blades, then we can discuss it with them...about this."
"When I get back from Dalmasca," she suggests to him, smiling softly. "So that no one loses their shit when I'm carrying Talekeeper down the aisle instead of flowers."
He blinks once at that last bit before canting his head slightly. "You'd carry Talekeeper.. because of Jeralt?"
In response, she nods a little. "It's not like my Father's gonna be walking me down the aisle, so Lio and your father should."
"Hmph...Not that we...would allow him to be there.. in the first place," he comments before smiling softly down at her.
There's a nod of agreement to that.
"Yeah. I doubt he'd show up anyways, even if he was invited," she agrees before deprecating, "I am the 'disappointment' after all."
He frowns for a brief moment when she self-deprecates. Then, he would raise one of his hands up to cup the side of her face, and he tells her, "That...is what he may call you... But it is not.. what I see you as. You.. are more valuable and.. precious than you could ever know, Quil."
"I know, Leth," she murmurs in reply, smiling just a little. "Just...in case...always remember that I love you..."
And with that, she gives the Bozjan the most passionate kiss she's ever given him.
"And I love you-" he started to say before he's rudely interrupted with the most passionate kiss he's received yet from the Garlean. A kiss so from out of left-field that it leaves him stunned afterwards.
She lingers in the kiss for a very long time, though there's not much time left before she needs to go - not enough to do more than kiss him. So when she finally withdraws, it's slowly and with hesitance.
He is hesitant to let go of her as well, though he has faith, trust, and her promise that she will return to him...he cannot help but feel, huh.
She's now making him feel again, as she constantly has since introducing him to the concept. Finally, after they both withdraw from the kiss, he says the signature phrase of the Bozjan Blades he's been citing lately.
"For the Queen... Return."
"For the Queen," she echoes, having cited the phrase frequently since receiving Talekeeper, "I shall."
"If we don't act now, we may miss the window of opportunity this campaign created."
The big, blue-haired Hrothgar sighs heavily, nodding in agreement even as he counters the sentiment, "Yes, but if we move too swiftly, we miss the said window."
A little frustrated, the Hyur's hand thumps the table as he retorts, "We're running out of time! Gabranth is dead, Lyon is missing, the Fourth is in chaos and can't get reinforcements - we have to put an end to what was set in motion before it's too late."
The Hrothgar reaches up and rubs his temples as he sighs heavily once more.
"Your Grace, please. If anyone with a strategic mind remains, they'll expect such immediate pressure," the large, feline-like man counters. "A small delay does give them time to regroup, but when we don't turn up in a timely fashion, their vigilance will decrease and give us the opportunity of having surprise on our side."
Straightening, the dead man walking pushes himself away from the table, turning away from the second-in-command, clearly frustrated.
"You understand how difficult this is, Marsak," the man points out as he stares out of the tent. "It could be another Liberation, but instead of Doma and Ala Mhigo, it could be Bozja and Dalmasca freed."
"I do. We have been in the same position and squandered it once before," the giant cat-man reminds his guest. "We lost many a good Blade to Misija's betrayal, with only half that number in training. Part of what won us the war simply is unavailable at this exact moment."
"I can assure you, Ras, that Bozja has no intention of allowing Dalmasca to remain under the yoke of the Empire," a rumbling voice assures as its owner enters the tent. "If Velcliff is proof of anything, it's that the Empire is losing steam in the territories."
The armour-clad Hyur looks over his shoulder at the massive black and white Hrothgar that enters the tent, still frowning until the other man brings up the Velcliff incident.
However, the blue-haired Hrothgar frowns at the mention of the incident before looking back to the Hyur.
"There was some concern about the use of necromancy," the second-in-command notes aloud, "until we learned it was done by one of the mercenaries."
The princely knight turns back towards the pair of Bozjans, nodding in agreement, "I was disturbed by such as well, but my sister assures me that it was an accident triggered by an overwhelmed ally. T'was the woman's first foray into actual war."
At the tail end of his explanation, the other two men wince a little - the blue more so than the white, both nodding in understanding and agreement.
"It seems we're all on the same page here," the rumbling Hrothgar observes, "and we merely need to sort out the methodology we're going to use."
With a nod as he takes a seat at the table, the Hyur agrees, "Then let's sort out these differences so the offensive can be set into motion..."
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