🌸 —— churning the rubble with fair hands, sweat dampened the ends of muddy brown locks as they were pushed aside with little regard. dirt and ash streaked across the little archer’s brow as their efforts were doubled.
🌸 —— only two years ago had the villager and their father moved to nohr from hoshido, the latter seeking work within the entertainment mecca of cyrkensia. the commute from their tiny village was a full day’s travel, and within her father’s departure, they’d lost nearly everything that night.
🌸 —— readjusting their bow between their tiny shoulders, haruhi suppressed a grunt as their palms pressed into a fell support beam. as they pushed with all their might, the entry of splinters biting through the heels of their palms and making their way deep into weeping flesh was enough to rally a gasping yelp. through the pain, the little villager pushed and pushed, stinging tears prickling their honey eyes.
🌸 —— everything had disappeared in the chaos. survivors were few–only the hunters, and few women and children clever enough to hide. anything of value had been stolen, anyone of a certain physical standard spirited away for sale. bodies hid beneath the rubble, their clawed hands and gaping mouths fighting for air far past the point their bodies may have used it. haruhi had missed the last carriage out, parting the remnants of their home for one last item.
🌸 —— the support beam had finally given way, hot blood circling their cold, numb wrists. they dropped it aside, more interested in what had been underneath it.
🌸 —— seven years prior. the death of their mother had shook the fujioka household. haruhi had wanted nothing more than to honor their deceased parent, and nothing had meant more to them than the few keepsakes left behind. a cheap portrait, a hair tie, some theatre memorabilia. to most, junk. to haruhi, the world. they’d risked their life against bandits to protect their home, and continued to throw themselves into danger long after the major threat had subsided. only more raiders would come to search for valuables left behind in hidden corners from now.
🌸 —— a tug to the chest of their top freed the garment from their overalls, allowing access to the hem. they ripped free a strip of cloth, ripping it again into two sections. with little care, haruhi wrapped their hands in fabric. to bleed on the portrait would be to ruin it, and haruhi couldn’t stand the risk. it was in sight now, melancholic in its broken frame. it had been burned along the southwest corner, but no harm had come to the area of kotoko’s face. haruhi retrieved it from the broken butsudan, along with the hairtie. it had seemed the takarazuka posters were lost now.
❝ thank god… mother is safe. i guess all that’s left is to wait for dad. ❞
🌸 —— hugging the portrait to their chest, the sound of an approaching warhorse had halted any previous thoughts. haruhi’s hips swiveled to take in the noble creature and it’s rider. never one to leave the village, they had no recognition of the man seated atop the back of the stallion. their rather brash retort and the grip transferring to their bow-staff had reassured it.
❝ this is my home. if you’ve come to rake it for valuables, you won’t find much. the first group were thorough–even stripped the bodies. ❞
The subtle stench of blood has become apparent in the air, but obscured were the stranger’s facial expressions and hands from where he was positioned upon his mount’s back. But with the majority of the villagers having already been collected from the area for their own safety; for bandits rarely struck only once, forcing him to hold onto his suspicions.
While his distrustful nature, and rather callous attitude were off-putting at their worst, they were vital for ensuring Nohr’s revival. With the land in ruin, and the general population still struggling to accept the fact they had lost both their long-time ruler and his heir in the same breath, the burdens Leon now carried were heftier than any King of Nohr before him. Protecting Nohr fell solely upon his shoulders, and he would not fail his country twice.
Gathering his horse’s reins into his left hand, and taking hold of the the saddle horn, he pulled his right foot from the stirrup. Swiftly and easily swinging his leg over the animal’s back to land on the earth beside the animal. Releasing his hold on the creature’s reins, he brushed his fingers through the stallion’s mane for a brief moment before leaving his side to step into the thick layer of debris coating the road.
Heavy, armored boots easily crushed the rotten, splintered wood strewn about the around, as he stepped closer to the archer. Fingers twisting around the hilt of the blade hooked to his hip in preparation for an attack.
Though magic was his specialty, it was not his only talent, and he would not risk bringing further destruction to the pitiful town by casting a spell in such a restricted area. That, and the stroke of a sword was far easier to halt than the full force of Brynhildr should the stranger turn out to be innocent.
When their lips began to move, he eased his grip from the weapon. He could not blame the archer for not knowing his face; the village had been rather small, and the country was still very much adjusting to his reign. But now that he was closer he could make out the mud, grime, and blood coating their filthy clothes now, along with the object gathered in their arms. For a moment, his lips pursed in mild agitation. Though it was not directed at the villager, but at his own inability to prevent the raid from happening in the first place.
Rigid muscles relaxed ever so slightly, and he allowed his gaze to wander over the ruins of the home for only a brief moment. “You have my condolences.” The harshness of his words had been dropped as much as it could be, for conversation had never been his strong suit. “We have not before, and I apologize that our first meeting must be under such circumstances, but I am Leon, the current King of Nohr.” Introducing himself as King Leon still left a bitter taste in his mouth, and far preferred to separate his name from his title when speaking; it still didn’t feel as if the throne belonged to him.
“However, you must understand the danger you are placing yourself in by remaining here. I ask that you leave with myself and my soldiers when we are finished here so that we can ensure your safety, or I cannot be held responsible for the fate you may meet if you remain, should any bandits chose to return.” He supposed he could have made his request an order, but if he was being frank, he didn’t have the time to argue with someone hellbent on dying.
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