Rising from the Ashes

by stolen_sassenach

Summary:

After the Fall of Origin and the end of Ultima, Clive and Joshua find themselves with a tale to tell, and a new life ahead them.

With their enemy vanquished, now their challenge would be to navigate the uncharted waters of the lives that they fought so hard for. A future that they did not think to live to see with their own eyes.

Notes:

This is my first ever fic to the Archive, so please be kind. ☺️

This is a work in progress, and I will update as soon as life will allow.

I will also do my best to put any additional trigger warnings as well as we proceed through the story!

I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 1

Clive Rosfield was dead. He had to be. Jill knew it in her soul as she watched the Star of Metia dim before her very eyes and knew that if its scarlet light was fading, then it no longer watched over him, and that his life had faded with it. She pulled on the aether for him and found nothing on the other side, but a black adamantite wall cutting her off from that constant tether she and Clive always had. She couldn’t breathe, not as her heart was cleaved apart with grief, regretting the words that were left unsaid as he, Joshua, and Dion took flight to Origin. She sat with Torgal for hours, and when the sun rose the following morning after the Mothercrystal shattered, she began the orders to Cursebreakers being sent to what was left of the Crystalline Dominion in Twinside, to the eastern coast of Storm and western coast of Ash, sending Mid and The Enterprise through the Narrow, in hopes of finding them. Any of them. Dead or alive.

She tried to keep herself busy, anything to keep herself from falling apart, Torgal refusing to leave her side as she helped send search parties to find them. Jote and Jill pleaded with Cyril to go as well. Byron left for Port Isolde to await his nephews there, in case they came to his door for sanctuary, and only asked for a missive once she received word about Clive and Joshua, regardless of their fates if they did not.

Days passed and Jill hadn’t slept. Sleep meant he was gone for good, and she wasn’t ready to surrender that sliver of hope she had that meant that they survived. She felt sick while she stood council and stared at the map at Vivian’s table as Jote shared known locations of the Undying that could help in the search for Joshua and Clive; Gav and Otto were discussing the riots that were breaking out in Sanbreque, the continued unrest in Dhalmekia, despite the efforts of the Triunity Accord to keep the peace. The scores of Branded bearers, of men, women, and children, found dead by Wade and his men, on their way to seek refuge in Rosaria; eviscerated by the masters who cared not of their bearers’ own lives, only the magic that they could no longer cast. Jill’s head spun at the thought of what Wade must have felt upon finding them, finding children, and she barely heard Gav’s curse and Torgal’s whine before her knees gave out and she hit the floor.

“Jill—” “Lady Jill—” Otto’s and Jote’s voices faded as her vision went dark. Jill… Clive’s voice echoed in her ear as she lost consciousness.

Jill woke in a bed, but not in Tarja’s infirmary, in Clive’s bed, Torgal curled up beside her, Jote sitting on the sofa, book in hand. She and Gav must have brought her here, she thought. She breathed in the lingering scent of Clive and she couldn’t stop the tears that began to fall freely. He was gone then, truly gone, not some twisted nightmare that she could escape from. Jote, who heard her cry, was immediately at her side, holding her close. She couldn’t bring herself to leave Clive’s solar for days, Torgal growled at anyone else who tried to disturb her as they both mourned. Tarja came once a day to check on her, Jote would see to it that she ate something, to take some fresh air, if not for herself, then for the child that she carried. 

“Thank you, Jote…” Jill murmured, sipping the tea that she made, reading the news that she would bring through missives that would arrive from the Cursebreakers. Jote was hesitant to let her read them, fearing to cause more stress to her body that she needed, but relented after the fifth day. “I know I hold no power over someone of the Undying, but I am grateful.”

“Of course, my lady.” She replied with the same quiet voice, her own eyes ringed red from the tears that she must have shed out of sight of others. Part of Jill had thought the worst, and wondered if she was only extending the kindness because she carried the future of House Rosfield, even though Joshua was the heir, but Jote mourned for Joshua as much as Jill did for Clive. Her presence was more comforting than Jill let on as the tears they did shed were for both of them. “Send for me should you need anything. I am at your disposal.”

Even as Jill was hearing Clive’s voice in her dreams, she held onto that sliver of hope that perhaps Clive and Joshua had survived; but the reports from the various search parties were turning up empty handed each passing day, her remaining connection to Shiva now an empty pit. 

Clive was going to be a father, Joshua an uncle, and it killed her that the thought to tell Clive only came as he left. To save them all. He told her that he would come back. He told me that he loved her. Time slowed to a glacial pace and Jill would have been a ghost after the missives began far and few between the following week if it wasn’t for Jote’s presence. Clive would have wanted her to move on, to raise their child in this new world that he, Joshua, and Dion died to give them, but the grief was too great to make the effort to even know where to start. 

 

“Joshua! Joshua, run!” Joshua heard his father as he stirred to a pounding headache, and hands searching his body for gil, and other treasures someone of his station would likely carry on him. “Run!” He opened his eyes to find bandits, the familiar silver chain with the blue crystalline stones in one man's hand and the look of utter terror in the bandits’ faces as they locked eyes with their quarry. Joshua barely had time to react before the bandit drew his sword upon him to likely kill him for good and Joshua rolled to dodge the attack.

"Shit-" He cursed as he reached for his missing sword, remembering that he left it at Origin, and he grabbed his dagger, forcing his body to move before a heavy weight of the other bandit wrestled Joshua to the ground again. His dagger was knocked from his hand, he didn’t have time to try to reach for it as the bandit kicked Joshua hard in the face before hands wrapping tightly around his throat. Joshua’s head spun from the strike to his face and from hitting the ground, he couldn’t kick the bandit off, each movement wasted more time and air that he could spare. Black and red spots filled Joshua’s vision as he reached for the dagger and hardly had the hilt in his fingertips before the dagger tore into the bandit’s neck; his eyes wide as his lifeblood spilled onto Joshua. He managed a breath as his attacker’s grip loosened, shoved the bandit off him and staggered to his feet. 

“You’re a dead man.” The remaining bandit exclaimed as he adjusted his grip on his sword.

”I’m already dead…” Joshua said darkly, spitting blood that was not his onto the grass, pulling the dagger from his associate’s throat before parrying his attack, willing his training from the Undying to defend himself, and burying the dagger into his stomach, blood spilling into his hand. “And so are you.” Joshua growled into his ear, forcing the dagger up; the bandit sending his own blood on his face as he collapsed and fell still.

Joshua staggered a step back, coughing to catch his breath as he found himself surrounded by green grass and the sun shining down on him, and if it wasn’t for the dead men at his feet, he would have been convinced that he was in the heavens. He bent down to collect the chain that was previously tied to his belt and loosened a breath as he pocketed the last earthly possession of his late father.

A breath of wind brushed across his aching face, and suddenly Joshua had heard Clive’s scream on the breeze and his heart leapt to his throat. He was immediately alert as he wiped the blood from his face, running his tongue along the cut on his lip, expecting to see Ultima’s spectors or more bandits, but Joshua was alone. Utterly alone.

He looked along the plains, and did not see the Mothercrystal of Origin, no blue aura of aetherfloods, and no Akashic roaming the grounds. He had to be dead, as there was not another soul to be seen, but there was no mistaking the familiar flame in his heart; the shadow of that illness that plagued his entire life, Ultima’s constant poisoned whispers that filled his head for the last five years, was gone. Joshua’s surroundings finally looked familiar; he knew that Clive must have succeeded in defeating Ultima, and he probably used the power of the nine Eikons he possessed to bring him back, despite his reminders to his brother that the Phoenix’s powers could heal the mind and body, not the soul. How he managed to do so, whilst keeping his soul intact, he had no idea; the aether needed to perform such a feat and destroy the Nexus would have killed a man to do so, even a man as powerful as his brother.

“Oh, Clive.” Joshua breathed finally, falling to his knees, and the grief that he carried for years after Phoenix Gate came flooding back, the ache in his chest returned to rival the pain that was just inflicted upon him. Dion, his dear friend, was gone as well; fallen after dealing a blow to Ultima to grant him time to run to Clive’s aid. Joshua ran his bloodied hands through his hair, trying to swallow back the sob, but failed. The screams of agony, of anger that left him was not human and could’ve been heard for miles. Why was he the one who lived, when all three of them had lost so much? Everything in his body hurt, no doubt from the fall from Origin, his face stinging from the bandits who just assaulted him. The absence of the Phoenix’s power created a gaping crater within him, a crater resembling the one that Clive and Joshua both made at Phoenix Gate. His mind raced, feeling sick and Joshua retched into the grass beneath, until nothing else came up. He was left shaking, tears falling freely, openly mourning everything they lost, that he lost, for the freedom of Ultima’s influence.

“Is that you, Joshua?” Joshua heard a voice ask after he watched the sun begin to set, and he immediately grabbed his dagger, still on edge, before realizing it was Mid and a couple of Cursebreakers, Knox and Irvine, that stood before him.

“Lady Mid.” Joshua rasped, as the girl took him in. 

“Bloody Hell, Rosfield!” Mid cursed. “Where the hell have you been? We’ve been searching for you for nearly a fortnight.” She said, “Are Clive or Dion with you?”

Joshua shook his head. His friend was gone. His brother was gone, lost him nearly twenty years ago, and was lucky enough to reunite with him, only to lose him weeks later. Joshua would likely never be that lucky again. He saw Mid staring at the blood that coated his hands, face, hair, neck and soaked his clothes. “It’s not mine, Mid.” Joshua sniffed, and tasted blood on the back of his tongue. “Well most of it isn’t.” He answered without realizing what she had said. “Wait, you said a fortnight?” If he was alive, how long had he been out? Where had he been? He remembered the cold light of the Nexus, and then was greeted with a warm firelight, and then nothing else until he awoke.

She nodded once. “Yes. Jill and Jote had been in charge of the search parties to search for you, Clive and the Prince since the Mothercrystal fell.”

“Founder…” Joshua breathed. Jill. Jote. If they had been searching for them for nearly two weeks, if not longer, he could only imagine what must be going through their minds. He should go back to Bennumere, and apologize to Jote for their argument that transpired between them before he left, for he was not himself. “I need to go to them.” 

“You can, or you can join us in Kanver to find Clive.”

“Kanver?” Joshua asked, concerned. Last he saw Kanver, the city was in flames, overrun by Akashic. Then again, the port was perfect for The Enterprise, so it would be no surprise that Mid would take port there again to service her pride and joy, even with risks. Clive’s stories of Cidolfus Telamon were true, Mid was as headstrong as her father.

“Yes, the city is abandoned now without the occupants of Akashic. We anchored there for a few days before crossing the Narrow again.” Mid said as a curse breaker handed him their cloak.

“Thank you. You have my gratitude.” Joshua replied, pulling the cloak over his shoulders and the hood over his head. He gave Mid one last nod and they both made the silent journey under the cover of darkness.

 

“You see it too, Jill…?” Clive had begun to lose consciousness as he watched the Star of Metia flicker, hoping Jill was still safe; the curse taking hold from the substantial amount of aether he used to kill Ultima’s purpose for him as Mythos, to Raise Joshua from his eternal slumber and then he destroyed the Nexus with whatever strength he had left. Clive had syphoned the remaining aether from the world and screamed as he felt it rip through his body and obliterated the Mothercrystal from beneath him. He had just enough power to make sure that Joshua survived the fall, and cared less about himself before he blacked out and then awoke washed up on that beach. Clive thought he had heard Death’s siren song with the waves, thinking of Jill, of Joshua, as the pain ebbed his life away.

“Jill…” Clive rasped as he stirred. The splitting headache forbade him from opening his eyes. His tongue was like sandpaper, drawing a breath made him feel like he was breathing in glass which was the telltale sign of shattered ribs; even during his time in the imperial army, he was no stranger to that feeling. He had to be dead, his body engulfed with more pain than he had ever known, the absence of the Eikons that occupied alongside his soul made it worse, the flames of Ifrit and the Phoenix, extinguished. I should be dead, Clive thought again as he stirred, feeling warmth in his left hand, and his fingers curled around the hand that held it. Clive was stone to the wrist last he checked, so how was it that he could move it? A gentle hand brushed along his brow, and wiped the sweat from it; a hum of disapproval muffled beyond the constant ringing in his ears. “Jill…” Clive repeated.

”Shhh…” A female voice whispered, pressing a damp cloth to his forehead. “I don’t know who this Jill is, but you’re safe, my lord.” She murmured. He knew the lilt in her voice to be someone from Ash, but was he in Waloed or in Storm?

Clive winced, willing himself to open his heavy eyes to look upon the woman. “Where am I…?” He managed, his voice harsh.

“Aertia. Small village just outside the Twilight Coast, my lord.” The woman said plainly, wrapping a fresh bandage around his left hand. Clive flexed it once, healing skin visible in the flickering firelight. “Either by blessing or curse, one of the last places along the Narrow that wasn’t overrun by monsters.” She added. “Now rest.”

Clive closed his eyes again, trying to think of the map of Ash. Eistla was the last occupied village that he saw when Joshua, Gav and himself last came here, where Edda was hidden, which was north of the Shadow Coast. The village beyond that he watched the last of its residents turn Akashic and were drawn away like moths to a flame outside of the Reverie. Aertia and the Twilight Coast must have been further northwest from the beach that he and Jill spent the night on. Founder… Jill— “I thank you, madam, but I must go…” Clive hissed as he tried to sit up. 

“Not with that fever, my lord.” She said, easing him back onto the bed. “Until it breaks and your wounds are done healing, you are not going anywhere.”

“Please, madam…” Clive managed. If he was alive, then he needed to go home, back to the Hideaway. He needed to look for Joshua. He felt him take a breath, so he knew he was alive, but Jill. She must be worried sick. There was so much left unsaid between them, knowing that defeating Ultima and destroying Origin was a suicide mission, he didn’t want to promise anything else that would break her heart anymore than he already had. Clive promised that he would be back, he told her that he loved her. He wanted to marry her. Wanted to live the rest of his cursed life with her, but even he had started to doubt his own promises. “I must leave…”

“That’s the fever talking, my lord. You are in no condition to go anywhere.” She said, pulling the threadbare blanket back over his body. “I’ve done what I can for your wounds, and restore movement in your hand, but it will take time for you to heal.”

Clive let out a sigh of defeat, wincing at the sharp pain that laced up his side. There was a scent that he recognized, but it wasn’t just of herbs that were used from his childhood like morganbeard or stonawart that Jote had him bring for Joshua, but wyverntail, and his heart rose to his throat. A phantom pain laced beneath his scar where his brand once rested at the venomous fragrance. “Founder—” The woman brought a cup to his chapped lips and Clive had no choice but to drink deeply. He recognized the herbs in the tea, and felt his body grow numb. Shit. He cursed silently as Jill’s voice whispered in his ear once before the brew rendered him unconscious. “Clive…”

 

“–ive.” 

“Clive–” He heard his name from a voice he had not heard in nearly two decades. “Clive, my son. Wake up.” Elwin Rosfield said quietly.

“I’m so tired, Father…” Clive opened his eyes to see his father, there to bring him home. 

“I know.” He replied, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder. “You have fought for so much and for so long, Clive. I need you to find the strength to go on.”

“I– I can't… I have nothing left…”

“I know, but it is not your time yet.” Elwin cradled his son’s face in his hands. “You have people who need you. Jill still needs you. Joshua still needs you.”

Clive looked into his father's eyes and let out what could have been a sob. “I wish you were still here…” 

“I never left, son.” Elwin pressed his forehead to his son's, a gesture that he had not received from his father since he was a boy. “I always have been, after all these years and I could not be more proud of you. Of you and your brother.”

“Wait, Father–” Clive started as his father began to fade.

“I’m not leaving your side, Clive. I’ll remain with you both until it is time to bring you home. You have a life to live now and I need you to wake up.”

“Father–” Clive choked out.

“Wake up.” Elwin’s voice ordered as the dream went dark.

 

Clive jolted awake hours, if not days later, finding the woman asleep by the fire. She wasn’t Tarja, who would have threatened to tie him to the bed. He needed to leave, find his way back to Jill, find his brother, fever or no. He swallowed back the pain as he sat up; his clothes washed and folded beside the bed and found his window. His legs threatened to give out, and Clive cursed under his breath. He dressed as quickly as his body would allow, knowing he lost everything, weapons, potions, in his fall from Origin, but he didn’t care. His ribs, his head, everything flared in pain, and Clive readied himself as he snuck out of the house and took off in the dead of night.

Notes:

Please tell me what you think so far! Any comments/kudos are appreciated! 💕

Chapter 2

Summary:

Oh Brother, where art thou?

After a few days' journey to Kanver, a bath, and a much needed change of clothes, Joshua threw caution to the wind and boarded the Enterprise without hesitation. He did not know if Lady Mid would send word to Jote that Joshua survived as she pushed the ship beyond her limits sailing along the Narrow and along the southern coast of Ash. He should have gone to the Hideaway, to return to Jote and Jill, but he wanted to help search for his brother’s body; Mid refusing to believe that Clive was dead, and exhausted the available resources that she pilfered from the stores left in Kanver to find him.

They spent nearly a week at sea, trailing along the eastern shores of Storm and the western coasts of Ash, and while Joshua held onto that slight hope Mid carried that maybe his brother was alive, he kept his doubts to himself as he worked alongside the crew.

“Where are you, brother?” Joshua murmured as he watched land come onto the horizon in the approaching dawn. When he lost Clive after Phoenix Gate, Joshua did not have the luxury of a body to bury, and it was another five years after he woke up before he knew that he survived; inscripted into the imperial army against his will and branded, but that was a different battle, another lifetime ago.

“Twilight Coast, inbound!” Mid shouted from the helm to her crew. “Prepare to weigh the anchor!” 

Joshua looked at Mid and nodded. She would remain on the ship, while he would take a few men to walk along the coast for any sign for his brother. “I’ll find him.” 

“You better, Rosfield.” Mid said, the teen had taken a liking to calling him by his surname. Not that it bothered him, but it was different from his title or his given name. “I don’t think I could look Jill in the eye if I come back empty handed.”

“That makes two of us, Mid. Even if we just find his body, that will be enough.” Joshua replied. “It would give us enough closure to know that he gave his life to save Valisthea.”

“I hope you’re right.” Mid answered, pulling the ship as close to the shore as she could. “I’ll stay docked until you return. Whenever that will be.”

“Thank you. We’ll do our best.” Joshua bowed, his three escorts waited for him with the rowboat. Joshua took a deep breath, checked his belt for his borrowed sword and his dagger and went ashore. It was dark when they stepped onto the beach, the milky light of the dawn was coming. Joshua looked north, and to the south. While it was not the same as the Shadow Coast to the south, where Gav, Clive and Joshua infiltrated Ash months ago, it could be mistaken as its twin. As expected, there was not a person in sight.  “We should split up. We’ll cover more ground in pairs."

“Are you certain, my lord?” Arryn asked.

“I may not know where my brother may be, but if we go in pairs on opposite sides of the beach, we’ll be able to maximize our efforts.” Joshua said firmly. He could understand their hesitancy, the thought of being on a wild chocobo chase for the last few weeks would cause some concern for a person that may not even be alive, if there is even a body to collect. Ultima had been in his head long enough to know that he was either going to break Clive to his will, or be the death of him, no matter the scenario. Joshua just hoped the Founder found it in her heart to either grant him a quick, painless death, or by some miracle, spare his life. “You two search to the east and to the south,” Joshua said to Arryn and Irvine. “Turn back if you make it to Eistla, and find nothing.” He turned to Knox. “You and I will search to the north. We will meet back here at sunset, I want to return to the Enterprise by moonrise.”

“Of course, my lord. We’ll see you then.” The Cursebreakers dipped their heads in response and took off down the beach. 

Joshua watched them for a moment before turning around and going the opposite direction. 

“Do you think Cid’s still out here, my lord?” His escort asked just after midday.

“If I know my brother, he would find a way; even if Death himself was staring at him in the face, he would fight until he could no longer.” Joshua said, passing through the small village of Aertia. The village was quiet, and while there was evidence of living, they did not greet them, not that Joshua blamed them. Their king was dead, their fellow countrymen turned into monsters. He was going to ask them if they had seen anyone that may have been Clive, but they were met with silence. “Though, after everything, it would not surprise me if we find nothing at all…” 

 

Joshua’s hopes had faded completely at sundown when they made it back to the rowboat. The men and Joshua found nothing. No footprints, or signs of life or fire, or anything else that would indicate a body. They began preparing it to go back to the Enterprise where Mid waited. Joshua swallowed the lump that was in his throat as that grief had begun to creep back up. They had started to push the boat into the water when they heard footfalls in the foliage behind them. Joshua was quick to his blade. “Who goes there!?” Joshua demanded. As the sun disappeared under the horizon, a large shadow limped onto the beach, a pained groan leaving him before collapsing onto the black sand. “Founder—” Joshua breathed as he found himself running. “Clive—” He rolled the man over and knew the scar that covered his left cheek; his brother was alive, barely, but alive nonetheless. Joshua touched his pale face, and cursed at the fever that burned. “Clive, look at me.”

“Joshua…” Clive rasped, barely managing a slight smile, before his eyelids grew heavy.

Joshua turned to look at the men, two held onto the boat, the other waited for orders. “Help me.” He commanded as he tried to pull Clive to his feet, his brother was twice his weight in muscle alone, and with him barely awake, he felt heavier. Joshua saw the grey veins that covered his left hand as Joshua pulled Clive’s arm over his shoulders, and then blood coated his own hands, far too quickly. “He needs a physicker.” Joshua said as his brother groaned in pain while he was carried to the boat. Joshua had seen his brother injured, after his initial fight with Barnabas Tharmr, but not like this as he faded in and out of consciousness. What on earth happened on Origin after he blacked out?

“Mid!” Knox shouted as they reached the Enterprise. She peered over the railing of the ship and the horror on her face said it all, and had begun shouting orders to bring Clive aboard, and pull anchor so they could leave as soon as possible. 

“Is he dead?” She asked as they brought Clive aboard and carried him below decks. 

“He will be if we don’t get him to Tarja. I’ll see what I can do before then.” Joshua said firmly. They couldn’t bring him to anyone else. Clive was still known as an outlaw, and Joshua would not risk an untrusted healer turning him in to collect a bounty while Storm is in chaos. If the cursebreaker’s warnings were true, nowhere was safe. At least while the Accord is overwhelmed.

“Put some of these men to work if you need anything at all.” She replied, before returning above decks, and the bell rang as the engines started.

Joshua put Clive in his cot, and stripped him of his armor and tunic, leaving him in his pants so he could assess the damage. He must have received some care, he had bandages wrapped around him, but it wouldn’t surprise Joshua if he left the healing bed early to get back home, a stubbornness that the brothers both harbor. Joshua lifted the blood soaked cloth, and his stomach churned at the barely healed cut that dragged across his ribs and nearly to his navel, at the pink raised skin, and torn stitches that screamed the start of infection. No wonder he had a fever. Joshua turned to Lyle, who happened to be the remaining sailor in the room. “Fetch me clean bandages, and hot water. Now.” He ordered.

“Yes, milord.” The sailor replied and he left without another word. When he returned, Joshua got to work. He gave Jote a silent thank you, noting to thank her in person, for teaching him her skill at healing without using his magic.

There was only so much he could do to dress Clive’s wounds, and knew Tarja would be better suited to stitch his injury, but Joshua made sure that the wounds were clean and did his best to bring his brother’s fever down, just to tide him over until they arrived back at the hideaway. Joshua examined Clive’s hand, those grey veins of the curse, webbed with fresh scars that ran up his arm, so different to others whose flesh turned to stone. Whoever helped him was skilled with reversing the curse’s petrification spell. Joshua monitored Clive’s breathing, and knew by the rasping, shallow breaths that he likely had several broken ribs; the bruises that were still healing were immense, his knee joint dislocated, which likely explained his heavy limp onto the beach. By the state of him, he’s lucky to be alive. There was a day at sea, Joshua thought he had succumbed to his injuries, but he thankfully did not. It was at this moment, Joshua wished he had the power of the Phoenix to heal him. “Stay with me, Clive… Stay with me…” 

 

Clive heard Joshua talk to himself as he stood on the precipice of blacking out again, hanging on by a thread amidst the burning fever. Joshua, his anchor to this plane of existence that both of them have left and returned more than once, like the true phoenixes, twin flames, they were.

“I’m here, Joshua…” Clive rasped under his breath. “I’m here…”

“Try not to speak, brother.” Joshua said. “You’re lucky to be alive. You need to rest.”

Clive opened his eyes and looked over at his brother. He was alive, the illness that had plagued him his entire life, gone. “It worked…” He trailed off.

“What worked?” Joshua looked at his brother, and Clive could see the worry in his eyes, and could tell that he hadn’t slept. 

“I took Ultima’s power and rather than raise his clones, I brought you back… Then I destroyed the Nexus, and nearly myself in the process…” Clive replied, wincing at the sting of fresh bandages, at the stab of his broken ribs. When Clive destroyed Origin, he felt like his body was being torn apart. If the bandages across his torso were any inclination, it was likely physically as well. “If anyone deserved to live… It was you…” 

Joshua looked at him, and Clive couldn’t read what likely went through his mind. “You kept my soul tethered to yourself, on the chance that you could bring me back?”

“Yes. It was a gamble, one I am glad I took…” Clive remembered the phoenix feather that came to him before his final battle  with Ultima, and knew that he had a chance to do it once he retrieved Ultima’s power. Clive’s eyes darted to the bruises on Joshua’s throat and along his face, the healing yellows and greens mixed by the deep purples and greys, the splash of red in one of his eyes from a burst blood vessel, the split in his lip and Clive’s exhausted smile faltered, a spark of anger flickered in his heart. “Who did that to you…?”

Clive watched Joshua’s face twist with so many emotions at once as his hand brushed along the column of his throat before rubbing the back of his neck. “Bandits tried to rob me over a sennight ago. I think they must have thought I was dead, but we had a bit of a scuffle before I was able to dispatch them.” 

“I’m sorry I wasn't there to protect you…” Clive murmured. If that was what Joshua considered a scuffle, he didn’t push further on the matter. He knew his brother could handle himself, but the fact that he was still attacked in such a way infuriated him. “So a fortnight since we left the hideaway?” Clive asked him, and he shook his head.

He must have read the look of confusion on Clive’s face. “Lady Mid and the others have been looking for you for over a fortnight now. I joined the search after my attack.”

Clive managed a nod, his head still pounded from the massive headache that accompanied this fever.  Nearly a month since Origin and Clive felt like he had been beaten by the Eikons themselves. Felt like it was Ultima who nearly split his body in two. “Jill—”

“Still back at the hideaway with Jote. I was going to head straight there, but I wanted to help Mid find you. Even if it meant finding your body.” Joshua finished. “I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I went back to Jill and I had nothing. Just don't die on me before we get there.” 

“It’s okay, Joshua…” Clive murmured. “I won't.” He would have felt the same having to tell Jote that Joshua had fallen, and was gone forever. “There was a moment that I thought I did die, and Father came to me.”

“Father?” Joshua raised a brow, a flicker of sadness in his face. “What did he say?” 

“That he was proud of me. Of us. That it was not my time yet. That he would remain at our side until it was time for him to bring us home.”

“I heard Father too, but I thought that I was dreaming. Perhaps it was his way to tell us that we’re safe.” 

“Perhaps. I just hope we can do right by him with this new life we’ve been given.” 

Joshua nodded his head. “So do I, Clive…” He replied. 

Clive watched Joshua nearly nod off. Judging by the dark smudges under his brother’s eyes, he likely didn’t sleep in the time he kept fading. “I’ll be alright, Joshua. Get some rest…” 

“Are you sure, brother?” He asked. 

“I’m sure. Knowing that you’re here, that you’re alive, it’s enough.” Clive answered. He gave Joshua a pained smile before he laid his head on the empty space on the cot, no doubt fearing to leave his side. Clive heard him take a sleep-heavy breath before he gingerly placed his hand on his brother's back as sleep finally claimed him. It didn’t take long for Clive to follow suit, seeing black as pain dragged him back under.

Notes:

Since we know what is along the Storm coast of the Narrow, I had to improvise for the Ash coast of the Narrow. Since we had the Shadow Coast, I kept up the trend and used Twilight Coast.

Thank you again for those who have read so far! 💕

Chapter 3

Notes:

Bit of a longer chapter: Jill and Jote talk about their darkest and longest kept secrets while entering the fray to find the men who brought them out of that darkness.

A couple Trigger Warnings for SA and mentioned suicide. Please read with caution.

Just as Jill feared, the missives had stopped completely after four weeks. She paced the docks the days following for each Cursebreaker that came back, and her heart broke further each one that returned empty handed. Etienne came back with Prince Dion’s ornate lance, and Joshua’s sword, both mangled beyond repair, but those were the only things that were recognizable in the rubble of what was left in the Crystalline Dominion, and no additional sign of either of their bodies. She would never forget the look on Jote’s face when she recognized Joshua’s blade, and she watched her friend fall apart and Jill could do nothing but hold her for as long as she needed her. While Mid had not come back, it worried her that there was nothing indicating Clive’s fate. Others at the hideaway may have started to come to terms that they were dead, Jill could not. Not yet. 

Torgal remained at her heels as Jill strapped her rapier to her hip and a dagger to her leg, determined to go out to look for them herself. Tarja had strongly suggested that Jill not go out with the dangers surrounding them in the weeks prior, especially in her condition, but she was tired of pacing around, weeping and sleeping like a widow waiting for her lost husband to return from the war. Jill took a deep breath, smoothed a hand over the gentle swell of her stomach, grabbed a pack and left Clive’s solar. Jote, as if she was waiting for Jill to make her move, stood at the lift to the docks, her smile small as she reached to pet Torgal.

“Jote, you don’t have to come with me.” Jill said to her, noting the sword and pack on her person as they went down to the dock.

“Even if both of them are dead, they would not forgive me for letting you go out alone. You and I both know that.” She said simply. “Tarja would kill me personally if something happened to you or the babe.” 

She was right. Only Tarja and Jote knew of Jill’s condition. While she was only a few months along, enough to keep the pregnancy hidden for a few weeks longer; enough now to feel Clive’s child move, it was still enough still that one wrong move can still cause a miscarriage. Tarja had been taking great lengths to avoid it, since her own health had been slowly on the mend, especially after Clive had taken the weight of Shiva from her shoulders, and Tarja found out that Jill was with child and started trying to combat the curse. The crystal’s curse had taken such a toll on her body already, so much so that she feared that she may never have children. The very fact that she was this far along was a miracle in itself. One wrong move, and it may mean death for her and the babe. That dark, grieving part of her was hoping it would happen, so they could find Clive in the afterlife.

“You’re right, I could use the company.” Jill surrendered, realizing that Jote was not going to take no for an answer. 

“I’m glad to hear that, my lady.” She said with another small smile, offering to take her pack as they entered the elevator to the docks.

“Jill! Jote! Wait!” Gav shouted, running toward them. “Charon told me that you guys were leaving?”

“Yes, we’re making sure that no stone is left unturned.” Jill replied. 

“I should come with you two.” He said.

“No. Clive would want you to stay, while we are gone.” Jill said. Even though Clive had made her his second in command, he appointed Gav to be in charge, to take up Cid's name in his stead before he departed to Origin, and the only one they could trust to keep things going with Otto and Tarja. Jill could see that there was a level of uncertainties that kept him from giving in.  

“Alright. You two stay together and be safe, okay?” Gav finally relented. “I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

“And you won’t. We’ll be back soon, Gav. If anyone asks, Jote and I are scouting for supplies for Charon and Tarja and searching for refugees.” Jill said. Given how hard he, Dorys, and Otto were working to have the Cursebreakers try to find any sign of them, Jill did not want them to fear that she doubted them. 

“Okay. We told Mid to weigh anchor at Port Isolde. Maybe start there.” Gav nodded and bid them farewell before anyone else could delay them even further. 

 

Jill and Jote decided to take Gav’s word, and made their way towards the borders of Rosaria, to perhaps meet Mid’s party on their way back to Lake Bennumere. This meant they couldn’t miss them on the journey home. They made for Martha’s Rest after the moonrise of the second day, and Martha sent them up with a room and board, without even allowing them to put a gil down to pay for it.

“I’ll send up some food in a bit.” Martha said as she handed Jill a key. “You two get some rest.”

As the night became late, and after they ate what Martha brought up to their room, Jill took a deep breath and laid there in bed; Torgal’s head resting on her stomach, half asleep as she idly scratched behind his ears. The stars flickered and sparkled in the night sky beyond the window, the crescent moon above them with the Star of Metia only a fraction as bright as Jill had been used to for nearly twenty years. Jote laid next to her, after ensuring that the fire in the hearth would last the night. They had gotten used to sharing a bed in recent weeks, grateful of each other’s company when the nightmares would keep them awake or if their respective beds seemed too big. Even Jote had found comfort with Torgal, even though she was never fond of dogs in general, the wolf sensing her grief as well.

“My lady?” Jill heard Jote’s voice drift over the crackling of the fire.

”Yes?” Jill said as she looked at her. 

“Forgive me, if I sound too forward, but I was wondering if I may ask you something?” Jill could see the curiosity in her eyes. She gave Jote a small smile and nodded to let her continue. “Was Lord Rosfield the first man to lay with you?” She asked nervously and Jill felt color flood her cheeks. “I– I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

Jill managed a soft giggle as she looked back at the stars for a moment before looking back at Jote. “No, you’re alright. He was unfortunately not. Clive was the first to show me gentleness in bed, but not the first to lay with me.”

“What happened? If you don’t mind my asking…” She asked carefully, rolling to face her.

Jill took a deep breath. She trusted Jote enough that telling her the full tale wouldn’t hurt. “About a year after I was captured by the Ironblood, Imreann, the High Father himself, demanded that I serve as concubine to the brotherhood since my first bleeding had come. I refused and being thirteen, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut, so He and several members took that as an invitation. They dragged me to the altar and chained me there, open for anyone to take.” Jill said quietly.  “I woke up in a cell shortly afterwards, beaten within an inch of my life; spending over a decade with so much blood on my hands, forced to prime whenever Imreann deemed fit, threatening the lives of the women and children in their possession if I refused.” 

 

Jill was there for a few days and then she primed for the first time, Shiva unable to watch a daughter of the North suffer such humiliation any longer. Jill was terrified at first, priming without realizing she was a dominant to begin with. Looking back, she wondered now if Clive had a similar experience when he primed as Ifrit. Jill watched three of the men who had forced themselves upon her slit their throats in horror; having laid with an abomination was a death sentence in their own right. Lady Marleigh, and the other ladies gave her tonics and potions to keep a babe from taking root when she was thrown back into her cell and cared for those children in secret as their way to help her when they could. Especially when the lash no longer worked on her and they turned on the ones who could not defend themselves.

 

“I—” Jote stammered, and Jill saw the regret in her face in the firelight. Guessing by the shake in her voice, she too had been taken against her will at one point, by whom or when, Jill didn’t press. “I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t apologize. It’s better for me to talk about it, rather than let it fester in my heart.” Jill answered. And it was. Her grief for Clive and Joshua had her heart now, and this suffering engulfed the pain she endured during her time in the Iron Kingdom. 

“Did his lordship know? When he laid with you?”

“Clive knew half the story from me. I only gave half truths where and when it mattered, and hid the rest when I found it painful to speak of; being the gentleman that he was never pushed the subject for my well being. I think he eventually figured it out, even before we left for the Iron Kingdom, knew of the night terrors that kept me awake at night for years, and knew the peace that killing Imreann would give me.” Jill explained. “When he did lay with me for the first time, I was scared at first, worried that I would panic in his arms, but I trusted him. He was so gentle that he took my fears away without a second thought, showed me what love truly was and every time after that was nothing less of that.”

“If the Lord Marquess is gone, do you know if you would find love like that again?” She asked.

“I don’t know...” Jill replied. Edda, who was years younger than both Jote and herself, lost her husband and was able to find feelings again with Gav, who had dropped everything to help raise her son. “I don’t know if I would… I may change my mind after the baby is born, or decide that I don’t want that love again… If I do, it will be a really long time from now…”

“I completely understand my lady.” She said with a gentle smile, even with the hint of sadness behind it. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”

“Of course.” Jill smiled back before she looked back at the stars. Clive always talked about the future she deserved, after everything she had been through, but never thought to think of a future for himself. He deserved more than what he allowed himself to have, to feel, to dream for. Jill let the tears slip as she drifted; she swore she saw the crimson Star of Metia flicker and grow slightly brighter.

 

“Jote, have you and Joshua ever…” Jill asked, when they got back on the road the following morning. No doubt curious as to what spurred the conversation last night. 

“It’s only fair as I asked you last night.” Jote smiled. “No, we may have shared a bed upon occasion, but it was purely for rest. His Grace and I have only kissed twice. Four times if you include his brief attempts after I turned seventeen and before I was sent to the Hideaway.” She added with heat rising in her cheeks. 

“Do tell.” Jill said with a matching smile.

“The first attempt was admirable if I must say.” Jote clarified. “I had offically been knighted as one of the Undying, and when the final orders came in declaring that I was permanently assigned to His Grace, I pleaded with him to the Elders that any open investigations on the Lord Marquess were no longer necessary. He never knew his brother was alive for years, and never knew of the assassins being sent after his brother until he became of age. So he was grateful that I was able to convince them to change their minds. I think being the Burning Quill’s apprentice helped. His Grace barely kept a hold of his own emotions and as soon as we were out of the sight of the Elders, he pulled me close. We barely had time to share a breath, let alone kiss before we separated in haste as others were coming down the hall.” 

“That’s a side of Joshua I did not know he possessed.” Jill giggled. 

“Nor did I.” Jote replied, her own girlish giggle leaving her for the first time in weeks before it faltered slightly. “The first proper kiss was after escaping Caer Norvent five years ago. I was tortured by Lady Commander Benedikta Harmon and her Intelligencers in an attempt to get His Grace to agree to join their cause. There was an attack on the keep and in the chaos, I barely had time to collect myself, and to create a distraction, took His Grace and ran." Jote swallowed back the memory. 

 

Jote had pleaded with him that night to not reveal himself, to not use his magic while Benedikta Harmon tortured her, but also when the Intelligencer discovered Jote was an unmarked Bearer and had taken advantage of her state of undress to force himself on her until she bled and couldn’t fight the pain anymore. Jote knew that it likely hurt him as it did her, if not more since he was being forced to watch, but it was her cry out in pain when finally Joshua snapped. Jote watched him burn the Royalist into ashes with no mercy in his eyes, and then everyone else in the room before they could finish screaming, making them sorely regret that they didn’t cuff him in crystal fetters.

 

"We stopped at this inn in Northreach and I was trying not to go into shock as I made sure that he was alright; holding little regard to my injuries and he did the only thing to keep me from falling apart. We shared that kiss for a moment before he helped me tend to my wounds.” She continued. Not only did he care for her wounds but help ward off any nightmare that followed.

“Our last kiss was a few months ago at the hideaway after you three returned from your mission in Kanver.” She had just arrived at the Hideaway at His Grace’s request after meeting him in Tabor. He had fallen ill after priming against Barnabas Tharmr to protect the Enterprise, and so soon after the stamina spent priming in the Crystalline Dominion, it had taken quite a toll on him. The Elders would have thought Jote took advantage of his illness, but the way he kissed her, the way he held her, said otherwise. “Those moments were secrets that we have kept to ourselves, as the Knights of the Undying do not engage in such actions towards the Archduke of Rosaria.” 

“Don’t worry, his and your secrets are safe with me.” Jill replied. “I only know from what Clive and Joshua have told me, so I don’t know what the rules are with the Undying.”

“We are allowed to have lovers, but we are not to marry or have children; the sole exception being if granted permission from the Burning Quill and the Elders to bring the child up as an apprentice. We would usually find orphans and other lost souls instead to bring into the fold.” Jote explained. “Most of the Undying will go as far to see to it that they cannot sire or carry children by sterilizing themselves, as their life’s duty is to the Phoenix.”

“Were you ever subjected to that?” Curiosity and worry sparked in Jill’s voice. Jill had seen one cult's cruel nature. Jote, it seemed, to have as well.

“The Elders tried to push me to do so, since I was assigned to the heir of the Duchy, but being Cyril’s apprentice allowed me to make that decision for myself.” Jote never went through with it, but while she had taken care of hiding her cycles so His Grace could believe that it was standard practice; he never questioned it when a cycle would be far more painful than the last, even with her tonics that she had been taking daily since her first bleeding. Jote was assigned to His Grace as she was the only one who was closest to his age, when he awoke five years after the Night of Flames, had been at his side with Cyril since she was six years old. After everything that he had been through, everything he had lost, Master Cyril thought someone around his age would be better than someone older who may stir unsavory memories from Phoenix Gate. “Being assigned to assist the Phoenix from the shadows is a lifelong service, just I didn’t serve the Phoenix, but His Grace himself. If he is truly dead, then I am lost…”

“If you saw Joshua again, would you continue to serve him, or ask for permission to be at his side a different way?” Jill asked carefully.

Jote looked at the sky. “That is uncertain… but if I ever get to see him again, I’m not going to let anything go unsaid, but my duty was to be at his side.” She answered. She had half expected a missive from Cyril that would alert her of his findings, but she received none. If he was alive, marriage was out of the question given her station, knowing that the Elders would never permit it, but Jote would also find a way to endure a lifetime of servitude while he would marry and have children with someone who would be of noble blood. That’s if he still wanted her.

They had fought before they departed which resulted in a screaming match between them, leaving their goodbyes short, and it pained her so. She wanted him to tell her that he loved her, and that was why he had sent her to the Hideaway, why he was pushing her away, but she stormed out of his room before she heard the rest of his words. He never raised his voice at her once in the years that she knew him, until that moment, and she wondered if it was truly him or if Ultima was twisting his words to hurt her. In any regard, it was enough to shatter her heart, as if he himself had taken a dagger to it. “He and I kept our feelings under tight wraps and only permitted it in secrecy for years. There was so much that I did not say before he left for Origin, and I regret not saying more. From what you’ve said to me previously, you felt the same with the Lord Marquess.”

“There was a lot that I did not say to Clive either, and if they are gone, then those regrets we’ll have to carry for an eternity.” Jill said, taking Jote's hand and squeezed it. “I’ll be there for you, should you need it.”

“And I you.” Jote added, squeezing her hand in return and they did not let go.

 

Clive’s wounds were slightly better by the time they docked in Port Isolde and got him off the ship, but without a proper healer’s care soon, his fever may be the thing that claims his life. Joshua exhausted the remaining potions and clean bandages to try to heal his wounds enough to get him back to the hideaway. 

Byron, who saw the familiar ship pull into port, wasted no time to stand at the docks for any news. Joshua helped his brother above decks and onto the dock and could not stop the bone crushing embrace from their uncle, and neither Clive or Joshua minded one moment. The man, who was one wrong breath from striking Clive down where he stood all those months ago, looked over both his nephews for injury, his elder nephew a bit worse for wear, his younger nephew with his own share of a beating, but both healing, and together. 

“Oh, my boys.” He murmured as he pulled away to look at them. “You two have seen better days.” He added, placing a hand on each of their faces.

“Indeed we have.” Joshua said with a gentle smile, looking at his brother. “But we had each other, and it was enough.” Clive saw the sadness that filled Joshua’s eyes, knowing that it cost the life of Dion, of himself and nearly his own to bring Ultima down, before Byron ushered them to a wagon that he had prepared weeks ago, as if knowing that Clive would be in no condition to walk halfway across Storm back home. 

“Are you certain, Uncle?” Clive asked. “You can come back with us.” 

“I’ll be there soon enough, dear boy.” Byron said firmly, “I will not keep you any longer from your talented physicker. Now go. I will see to it that you are not followed. The port master will be none too pleased with the Enterprise docked without prior notice or cargo for that matter, and may send the city guard after you since you are still an outlaw, so I’ll take care of things here.” The brothers nodded, and got in the wagon; Byron giving Mid and the fellow Cursebreakers the order to make haste before distracting the port master of the unexpected docking of the ship.

His brother was surprisingly in good spirits on the road back to Bennumere, even in his current state, knowing that Jill was at the end of the road waiting for him. Where Joshua hoped Jote was still there for him. He had broken her trust more than once in the matter of months, and he had to dig himself out of the grave that Ultima had possessed him to create, hopefully she was there for him to fix that bond that they spent thirteen years building, and less than an hour to fall apart.

“Are you going to go to Rosalith after we get back?” Clive asked Joshua after they left and passed the ruins of the Lazarus, the shadow of the towers of Rosalith Castle on the horizon.

“Cyril wants me to. More like the Elders want me to,” Joshua replied. “To take back the throne of Rosaria, but I want to make sure that you’re healed and get back on your feet first.”

“You don’t have to wait on my account, Joshua.” He murmured.

“I want to. If I’m returning to Rosalith, then I want you at my side, Clive. I’m not going back without my First Shield.” Joshua hadn’t seen home since he left with their father all those years ago. Part of him had no desire to. The closest he got was Phoenix Gate, and while Clive told him what happened, he did not want to take up that broken mantle alone. “If I have to stay at the Hideaway until you are well enough to do so, so be it, the Undying be damned.” Joshua added. “Rosaria can wait a little longer.”

“Joshua Rosfield, Archduke of Rosaria, with an outlaw as his First Shield.” Clive huffed with a chuckle. “That’s quite the scandal you’ve got set up for yourself.”

“I know. Call me a rebel, brother.” Joshua replied with a smile, snickering at the thought. The Elders of the Undying would be in outrage, especially since they wanted to end Clive’s life for what he had done to him at Phoenix Gate, for being Ifrit. The Night of Flames, they had called it. They both had since forgiven each other for that night; there was little to no control for either of them fully priming to their Eikons for the first time in such a hostile environment. “Not that you had any trouble with being one yourself.”

“I suppose I have always been a terrible influence on you.”  Clive responded as he tried sitting up. Joshua shifted to help him, careful not to disturb the stitching that was still intact, and the wounds that still weeped without them. 

“I would not have it any other way. Even after everything,” Joshua added. “Change is needed, especially now.”

“You have to be careful, Joshua.” Clive managed darkly. “Such changes will put a target on your back…” They both already know what type of targets are pinned on them without even mentioning them aloud. Changes that placed targets on their father’s back and that ended in betrayal, a beheading, and everything else in flames. Changes that placed a target on Clive’s back for being a deserter, a criminal, a liberator. 

Joshua nodded. “I will be careful. Same goes for you–” 

“Oi! Rosfield!” Mid called from the front, and both of them looked in her direction.

Joshua looked at Clive. “Go on, I’m not going anywhere.” Clive added, before Joshua stood up, and met Mid at the front. 

“What is it?” Joshua asked. 

“You tell me.” She said with a cheeky smile, pointing down the road. Joshua looked out upon the road and saw two figures walking the fading dusk light, and a familiar hound between them.

“Founder–” Joshua rasped as the hound barked once and the carriage barely came to a stop before Joshua found himself running toward them. 

 

Jill and Jote should have stopped miles ago, but they were so close to Port Isolde, that the promise of a bed at Byron’s manor seemed too enticing to ignore. Night had started to fall, and now Torgal had become more alert as they had heard a chocobo and carriage further down the road. Torgal stopped, hackles raised for the first time in days, and growled. 

“Easy boy. What is it?” Jill murmured as the lonely carriage came into view. She had half a mind to get off the road to let them pass until Torgal let out a bark and the carriage came to a stop. “Torgal.” Jill voiced a warning, but he remained at her side, since Cid and Clive had him trained well to attack upon command.

Jote stopped her as Jill reached for her rapier as they took in the figure that began running at them, and Torgal let out another bark and ran towards the man. “Jill, wait.” She murmured as they heard their names being called by a familiar voice.

“Jote—” Jill started before Jote took off running after Torgal toward the person coming towards them and she recognized the man, and his strawberry blonde curls as they embraced. Jill’s heart shattered as she watched Joshua Rosfield kiss Jote without hesitation as they held each other, undoubtedly exchanging words between them, their foreheads pressed together to share an intimate breath. He cradled her face before whispering at her lips and kissed her again. Jill barely remembered to breathe as she walked toward them. “Joshua—” She said in shock, swallowing back tears. 

“Jill.” Joshua said as he let go of Jote and wrapped his arms around her. Jill looked at the healing bruises on his face, and knew that they saw something far from heaven on Origin. Jill hugged him tightly, afraid that he could disappear like smoke on the wind.

“How?” Jill managed through the lump in her throat, tears falling freely.

“Clive.” He answered into her silver hair, like his brother would have.

“Is he…?” Jill asked, already preparing for the confirmation she dreaded for weeks.

“Alive.” Joshua said as he pulled back, and gestured to the carriage. “Injured but alive.” 

Jill looked at the carriage in disbelief, before looking back at Joshua. He gave her a smile as he nodded, and Jill fought the sob that escaped her as she ran towards the carriage, Torgal at her heels. 

Mid gave Jill a smile as she climbed up onto it. “Told ya I’d find him.” She said as she pulled back the curtain and Jill took in Clive Rosfield sitting against the wall, and his pained, exhausted smile in relief as he looked up at her.

“Thank you, Mid. Thank you.” Jill said gratefully as she gave Mid a crushing hug before walking into the carriage.

“Jill…” He breathed out as she embraced him, tears falling as she cried into his shoulder. “It’s okay… I’m okay… I’ll be better once Tarja takes care of me.” His hand smoothed along her hair. “I promised that I would come back.”

“Founder… I thought you were dead.” Jill pulled away slightly as she took him in, not letting his hiss in discomfort or his fever go unnoticed. Even without the baby, her stomach would have churned at the sight of the half healed slice across his body. “Where did they find you?” Jill asked him as Torgal came in, nudged Clive once with his nose and curled up beside him. Clive smiled softly as he scratched Torgal lazily behind his ears.

“Twilight Coast in Ash apparently…” Clive replied, as she examined his wounds. “After Origin blew, it sent me in one direction, and Joshua in another…”

Joshua and Jote climbed in the carriage and Mid gave the order to have the carriage moving again. “He’s lucky to be alive.” He said.

”We both are, Joshua.” Clive added.

Jill looked at him. “Sounds like you both have a story to tell.”

“We do, my star.” Clive said as he reached up and cupped her face with his hand, his thumb brushing away the tears that slipped down her cheek. Her heart skipped a beat upon hearing ‘my star’. He never called her that before. “And we have all the time in the world to tell it.”

Jill leaned into his touch and weaved her fingers with his. “I’m all ears, when you are ready.” She whispered at his lips before pressing a kiss to them.

Notes:

Thank you again for the Kudos and the comments.💕 I know this was a little bit of a heavy chapter at the beginning, but the brothers and their ladies are reunited!!

We'll be back at the Hideaway soon enough!

Chapter 4

Notes:

Of Announcements and Nightmares. I hope you enjoy. 💕

Clive spent nearly a fortnight under Tarja’s infirmary after returning to the Hideaway before she said he could sleep in his own bed. He knew that his wounds were not healing right when he came home, his lack of rest was also the cause of his ribs not setting. While Joshua had done his best to keep Clive’s visible wounds cleaned and his internal injuries from making things worse, if they had delayed another day or so, his fever would have taken him down a road that Clive would not be able to return from; the physicker cursed at the threat of blood poisoning that spread from the half healed tear across his torso. Tarja had to reopen his wounds to cut away any of the infected flesh before stitching him back together, personally scolding him if he tried to get out of bed early. She even had Gav keep watch some days to make sure that he stayed put.

Joshua was kept there for a couple of days, Tarja found him cleared of any illness and any signs of the curse that he previously had, even where that crystal had rested was nothing but smooth flesh; the bruising that he suffered from his attack after Origin did not cause further injury, the blood in his eye would go away with time, his lip already showing signs of healing. Clive thought Jote was going to cry in relief. She and Tarja spent another day studying the grey veins again that bled along his left hand, and found it fascinating that he had regained movement completely from the wrist, even after Clive explained that the curse had begun to take hold when he brought Joshua back and destroyed Origin. Joshua shared his notes that he wrote while they were on the Enterprise as well, knowing that Tarja has a chance to reverse the damage done to those who suffered from the curse’s spell with the curious mixture of distilled wyverntail and stonawart. 

Jill never left Clive’s side, listening to what happened on Origin while he was awake from Joshua and himself, and worked with Tarja to make sure that he was taken care of as he slept; the medicines that they gave him were strong enough to keep the pain and nightmares at bay. Clive was grateful that she and Joshua were with him as he was cleared to leave and limped from the Infirmary to his quarters, with promises to check in to monitor his wounds and be cleared to fight again; Gav saying that he and Otto would keep things running until he felt good enough to be in charge again. If he still wanted to. 

“I’ll be in my room if you need me, brother.” Joshua said as Clive took in the state of his solar, left precisely as he left it, with the exception of fresh sheets. “As goes for you as well, Jill.”

“Thank you, Joshua. Same to you.” Jill replied. “We’ll see you in the morning.” She added as they bid him goodnight and watched him wave before descending the stairs to his own rooms and closing the door. After all that they had been through with Origin, it wouldn’t surprise him if there were night terrors that haunted either of them. Clive knew he didn’t look forward to his first night without pain tonics. “Clive?”

“Hmm?” He hummed as he looked at Jill, catching him staring off.

“You okay?” She asked, weaving her fingers with his. There was a slight concern in her eyes. 

Clive was silent for a moment, taking in the solar again. With Torgal at the foot of the bed and Jill at his side made him realize that he was grateful that he survived against Ultima. Even though there was a small part of him weeks ago, even days, that made him wish he had died. Clive recognized the mangled remains of Dion’s lance and Joshua’s sword, probably the only things that were found from their fight on Origin. “Yeah. It feels good to be home.”

“It’s good to have you home, my love.” My Love. A nickname that Clive had enjoyed hearing from her lately. A nickname that he did not think he deserved for years. Jill pressed a kiss to his cheek before leading him to his bed. Their bed. Clive nearly sighed in relief as he sat down. “I have some news.” She said quietly after a moment.

“News?” Clive raised a brow. “Bad or Good?”

“Good news.” Jill said with a small smile as she pressed his hand in hers against her stomach, where he met a gentle curve, and then the smallest flutter beneath her shirt.

“Jill—” Clive started in utter shock, his  eyes flicking upwards to meet hers. “Are you—”

Clive watched her smile grow as she nodded. “I am.” She finished. “You’re going to be a father, Clive.”

It took a moment for those words to hit him fully. A pang of anxiety struck him, but not even that could keep him from the overwhelming joy that now blossomed. Clive knew that the curse had taken its toll on her body, even going as far as telling him that she may not even be able to carry children. Bearers, let alone Dominants, had a harder time conceiving as it was. Clive finally stood to hold her face and kissed her. “When?”

“I suspected it when we were in Mysidia, but Tarja confirmed it for me just before you left for Origin. I wanted to tell you, but didn’t want it to be a reason for you not to go.” She explained. There was a softness in her eyes every time he held Waljas back at the village, her concern of the magicks involved, but he couldn’t read it at the time. Jill wasn’t just concerned for the safety of Clive and herself, but for their child. She had every right to keep that news hidden, as it may have clouded his actions at Origin or Ultima using it as leverage against him to break him. “Tarja thinks that it might be here by the Winter Solstice.”

“Who else knows?” Clive asked her. “Aside from Tarja.” By the Flames, they were going to have a baby.

“Just Tarja and Jote. No one else.” Jill said. “I didn’t want to announce it yet, it seemed too early.”

“We should probably tell Joshua first. I would say let’s tell Uncle Byron, but he’d tell all of Storm before we get to.”

“We can tell whomever you would like. I did write to your Uncle when we got back to the Hideaway. You can tell him when he arrives–” Jill said before Clive embraced her and lifted her up slightly with excitement, Torgal letting out a couple barks to join in on his humans’ laughter. “Clive—” She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. Gods, he missed that sound. “You’re still healing—” She pressed a kiss to his lips. 

“Marry me?” Clive interrupted as he set her down.

“What?” She looked at him, her giggle faltering, as if realizing what he just said. “Clive—”

“Marry Me?” Clive repeated. He remembered that he purchased a ring years ago, the silver band to compliment her hair, with a sapphire accompanied with aquamarines and diamonds that reminded him so much of the heirloom kokoshnik, the crown that came with her from the North, that she used to wear as a girl during the banquets at Rosalith that also was a part of her dowry, and kept it in the false bottom of his desk drawer. Clive let go of her and shuffled to his desk, pulled the drawer out and popped out the false bottom, and pulled out the small box. He opened it to confirm that it was still there, and gave it to her. “Will you be my wife, Jill Warrick?” Clive asked her formally.

He saw her eyes light up at the ring before looking back at him. “Yes.” She answered as she hugged him. “A thousand times, yes.” Clive smiled as they kissed again. Clive took the ring from its box and slid the ring onto her finger. He let out a small sigh of relief, thanking the Founder that it fit. “How long have you been holding on to that?”

“Uhh, about four years. It was the first thing I bought after I got my brand removed, with a little help from Charon. Just haven’t had the chance to ask.” He muttered softly. He had held onto it for so long because he did not feel like he deserved a happy end, not everything he had done, but if they were going to have a baby, no time like the present.

“I can start planning for that in the morning then.” Jill said, equally as quiet. 

“You can take your time, my star.” Clive replied as he held her and he brought her to bed and did not let go. Jill was careful as she curled up beside him, and as he laid there after she fell asleep, Clive finally felt at peace. 

 

Joshua tore awake for the first time in weeks screaming, with his heart pounding, ears ringing and sweat plastering his hair to his neck and forehead. He put a hand over his chest, expecting to find a hole ripped through him as Joshua tried to catch his breath, but his fingers found smooth skin. His breath was shaky as he closed his eyes and he could not get Clive’s scream out of his head, couldn’t stop the phantom pain in his chest as Joshua felt his body be torn apart as Ultima smiled darkly. He couldn’t stop seeing Clive being thrown into the ruins of Origin below, the sheer panic that hit him if he even survived the crash; Dion’s command to go to him only moments before his cry in pain as his Eikon yielded in defeat, and plummeted to his death after he took the brunt of Ultima’s barrage to give Joshua time to get to Clive. Even in his Primed state, weak as he was, diving for his brother, it was the sickening crack of Dion’s body hitting the ground that spelled his life’s end that also haunted him. There was that guilt that he carried as he wished that he was fast enough to do both, to save his friend and then go to his brother. Joshua swallowed back the nausea as he got out of his bed and splashed his face with water before looking at his reflection in the mirror and running his fingers through his hair as he tried to slow his racing heart. 

“Your Grace?” A quiet voice drifted into his room. Joshua shifted his eyes to see Jote’s face peek in from the door in the mirror. “Are you alright?” She asked as she slipped inside and shut the door behind her. 

Joshua turned to look at her fully. She must have heard his scream and in her haste to come to his aid, didn’t bother with her normal cloak and boots, just a loose shirt and pants; her short hair slightly disheveled from her sleep, a rare sight for any member of the Undying. “Yeah. I’m alright, just can’t sleep.”

“Nightmares?” Jote asked as she approached, placing one hand on his clammy face. Her other hand checked for fever out of habit. 

“If you can call them that.” Joshua replied, weaving his fingers with hers, seeing the concern in her eyes. “Just… they feel so real. After all the traumas I’ve endured, no nightmare had me relive my worst memories like this…” The ringing in his ears had stopped, but the cold sweat that sluiced down his spine did nothing to keep him from returning to the cold light of Origin in his mind. Joshua didn’t dare tell her about the nightmares that involved her. Of what happened to her at Caer Norvent to protect him. The sight of her throat slashed, her body mutilated, eyes locked in death’s empty eternal stare, her blood on his hands as if he had been the one to tear her apart if Ultima won his conquest over his body. He shuddered at the memories of that sight and buried his face in her shoulder.

“Would you like me to make you a tonic for them?” She asked carefully, her other hand weaving in his hair. Her medicines had always helped stave off his symptoms of his lifelong illnesses that also helped with the night terrors that had often kept him from his sleep. Since Clive had healed him from those ailments, those medicines were no longer needed, and now that the stress of finding him and healing was gone, the night terrors have returned at full force. 

“Not tonight…” Joshua said as he pulled away and looked out his window, dawn was hours off. “If they get worse, I’ll let you know.” He added. Joshua made a note to ask Jill to see if they plagued Clive as well now that he’s no longer under Tarja’s constant supervision, and perhaps have Jote give the tonics to him as well. At least while he recovers.

“Of course, Your Grace.” She said with a small smile. “Is that all?”

Joshua tightened his grip on her hand. “Stay with me?” He realized that he should not have asked as soon as he said it. They were lucky enough to get away with what they had already, and anything beyond that could spell trouble for Jote more than him. Her eyes met his, and Joshua couldn’t read her thoughts. Even during their travels, when they would share a room, Jote would sleep in the other bed, if another was available or in the chair near the door, despite his protests for her to take the bed. Their time in the wilderness, one would sleep in the tent, the other would keep watch until it was time to trade off. The rare occasions when they actually shared a bed, he cherished.

“You want me to stay with you?” She asked. 

Joshua raised his hands in surrender. “I’m not searching for anything else but company, though you are not forced to fulfill that request.”

Jote shook her head and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m here for as long as you need me for. There are no other knights here to report this back to Cyril and the council of Elders, and I do not see the Lord Marquess or Lady Warrick running to them to tell on us any time soon.” 

Joshua let out a shaky breath, embracing her and pressing a kiss to her temple. “Thank you. Even if Cyril did find out, I would take full responsibility for our actions.”

“You will do nothing of the sort, Your Grace.” Jote said, looking up at him. “I am also at fault for our actions. I have been at your side for over ten years, and while keeping it secret is hard, I do not regret any of it.”

“I regret none of it either, and while I hate the secrets, I’m willing to do anything to have you stay by my side.” He said.

“Then, I will do the same. I almost lost you in the most permanent way there is. I will not lose you again.” She replied as she wiped the sweat from his brow, and stood on her toes to press a kiss to his lips. “Try to get some sleep, Joshua. I’ll scare nightmares off tonight and will make you a tonic tomorrow.” She said, smoothing her thumb over the newfound scar on his lower lip. 

“What would I do without you, Jote?” Joshua murmured as he got back in bed. He loved when she said his name, in the rare times that she put the title aside and used it. He scooted over to give her room and she wrapped her arms around his waist as he tried to will himself to sleep. She hummed into his shirt, low enough that he barely heard her as they held each other close; her lips pressed against that place on his chest where Ultima’s crystalline prison once rested, before her breathing slowed to indicate that she was asleep. She had remained at his side since they got back, with no complaint from him, but there was no forgetting the twist of emotion that she had when Joshua tried to explain his reasons for pushing her away. It also did not help that she received Cyril’s missive of the Elders’ reminder of what her duty to him, after letting them know of Joshua and Clive’s survival that also made her infinite grasp on her temper slip. 

Joshua loved her and he should have asked her to be his wife as soon as he saw her on the road from Port Isolde nearly two sennights ago, but he had been trying to mend the vast rift between them after their argument before he left for Origin. While that kiss they  shared on the road home rekindled some flames they both harbored, he could still see the pain in her eyes when they were alone that made him hesitate more. 

Joshua didn’t know when he wanted to return to Rosalith, didn’t want to subject himself to the life that awaited him there quite yet, not when he just wanted to live for a while. He didn’t want a marriage to a lady of noble birth, as the Undying and what was left of the Seven High Houses would prefer, as she could very well stab him in the back one day. His mother claimed to love his father, only to betray him to further her bloodline, and for them to demand that he marry for political advantage would get him nowhere at this point, given the state of Valisthea. The Undying followed his orders, Joshua could release her from her duties as a knight, but the Elders could protest until he was sworn in, but he did not care. He would write to Cyril before the week was out as he pressed a kiss to Jote’s head and began to drift.

 

Jill laid in Clive’s warm embrace to the hustle and bustle of the hideaway a few days later, a hand resting protectively over her middle. It was late in the morning, but only the Founder knew he needed the rest. It was louder than usual, meaning that it was shipment day for everyone. All of it possible from Byron’s generous donation of a trunk full of gil months ago. Which meant Charon was back, Tarja’s stock of medicines would be refilled; more tea, coffee, ale, and other foods that they didn’t have in the backyard in the alehall, fresh cloth for Hortense to make clothing for the giggling children that ran along the decks, Blackthorne already setting his hammer to the ore he had gotten his hands on, seeds for the garden in the backyard. Jill pressed a kiss to Clive's forehead and rolled out of his embrace and got dressed. Torgal lifted his head in curiosity, a small whimper leaving him. “Shhhh, I’m not going far, Torgal.” She whispered, careful not to wake Clive. “You can come with me. Just don’t wake him.” She added, giving him gentle scratches behind his ears. He nudged her once with his nose and curled up next to Clive as she left the solar.

Charon granted Jill a rare smile as she asked her about finding a ring for Clive, and gave her ideas on where to find a fair few that may suit the man; offering a silent nod as she looked upon the ring that now graced her hand. 

“He finally asked, didn’t he?” Charon said under her breath past her cigarette. “Another brush with death and realized it was time, was it?”

“Yes. I’m glad he did choose to wait.” Jill replied. “We plan on keeping it secret for a little while longer.”

“I don’t spread gossip like some court filly, Jill.” Charon shot back. “Though, I’m happy to see you back in good spirits now that Clive is on the mend.”

“Thank you.” She smiled. “If you need anything from me, let me know.”

“You do enough, love. I’ll see what I can do about a ring for him. I was never the marrying type, but you two deserve that much.” The older woman added, taking another draw of her cigarette and returned to restocking her shelves.

“Thank you again.” Jill replied as she looked towards the ale hall. She could bring some food to Clive so he could eat. Tarja’s tonics rarely mix well on an empty stomach, if the tonics of Stonawart she had spent the time preparing for her and the baby were any inclination.

“Late start this morning?” Jote asked Jill as she found her at the infirmary as she waited for Clive’s tonic. 

“Yes. Clive’s still sleeping.” Jill replied. “Is Joshua in the stacks with Harpocrates again today?” She added, knowing that he had spent a few days these past weeks working with the loresman when Tarja would kick him out of the infirmary. She was certain that if Joshua wasn't slated to be the Archduke of Rosaria, the man could have been a scholar.

“I’m afraid His Grace is still asleep as well. It seems the nightmares have kept him up the last couple nights.” Jote answered. “I was gathering ingredients for a sleeping aid for him, and the Lord Marquess, should he need it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jill didn’t think about that. Given what Clive and Joshua explained to her and Jote of what they experienced on Origin, the tale alone would cause nightmares for the children, as well as herself. “Perhaps you both would like to join Clive and myself for an early lunch. When he wakes, of course.”

“I think His Grace would like that very much.” Jote said, dipping her head in gratitude. “I know he is trying to delay his return to Rosalith as much as possible, so anything to keep him occupied here, I’m sure he would appreciate it.”

“I think we can make that happen.” Jill answered. His uncle may also help keep him occupied when he arrives. “Besides we have news to tell to him, and you.” She added. She would tell Jote of their engagement when they told Joshua.

“Did you tell his lordship?” She whispered as she gave Rodrigue her thanks with the ingredients. “About the babe, I mean.” She continued as they walked away.

“I did a couple nights ago.” Jill replied with a smile. “I haven’t seen that kind of light in his eyes in months, if not years.” 

“Oh, that is wonderful to hear! I’m glad that he is in much better spirits with that news.” Jote stopped at the hall that led to her and Joshua’s respective rooms. She looked down the hall for a moment before looking back at Jill. “I’ll check with His Grace to see if he has woken up, and we’ll meet you in your solar for breakfast, or lunch given the late hour.”

“Take your time. I still need to make sure that Clive is ready to receive guests.” Jill said, raising a hand in surrender. “If Joshua is anything like his brother when waking up, it may be a moment.” 

“Good point, my lady.” Jote answered with a nod. “I’ll send a missive should something come up.”

“Of course.” Jill gave her a nod as well.

 

Clive woke to nudge on his cheek with a wet nose and a soft whine, and he opened his eyes to Torgal laying beside him, his head resting on the bed, his amber eyes peering at him. “Hey, Torgal…” Clive murmured, still lulled by sleep. He noted Jill’s absence as he ran his fingers through the wolf’s fur. “Where’s Jill, boy?” He looked at the door for a moment and barked once before nudging Clive again. “It’s okay. She’ll be back.” He added as he sat up, hissing at the sharp stab of pain from his ribs. While his external wounds were finally closing, his ribs were going to take a while. It was late in the morning, judging by the sun high in the sky, so Jill likely got up to run some errands before he woke up. He didn’t even feel her stir, even though he fell asleep with her in his arms.

The door opened, and Jill returned with enough food to feed a small army and what could only be his pain tonic. “Oh, you’re awake.” She said, closing the door with her hip. “I figured that you would still be asleep.”

“I just woke up.” Clive said as he slowly got to his feet, Torgal hopped off the bed excitedly to greet her. “Let me help you, my star.” 

“I’m alright, my love.” Jill said with a smile as she gave him a kiss before setting the tray on the desk. “Did you sleep alright?” She asked as she wrapped her arms around his waist. 

“I did. Apparently too well.” Clive replied. He looked at the food, the tea which was kept on a hot plate. “Are we expecting guests?” 

“Joshua slept in too, so I invited him and Jote for lunch. They should be here soon.” Jill answered. “I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s more than okay. I enjoy the company.” Clive added. Tarja only allowed Jill to stay for most of his time in the infirmary and permitted Joshua to visit for a few hours at a time after she released him from her care. “I don’t blame him for sleeping in. He barely slept these last few weeks.”

“Nor do I.” Jill murmured. “Hungry?”

“Starved.” Clive chuckled as he leaned in for another kiss. “I feel terrible but I’m sure the tonic and some food will help. I just don’t want to stay in bed again today. Otherwise, I’ll go mad.” 

“Tarja did say that you’re going to feel like that for the next few weeks while you heal.” Jill smirked, brushing hair from his eyes before resting a hand on his collar. “Not everyone can kill a god, revive your brother, and syphon all of the world’s aether to destroy a Mothercrystal and live to tell the tale, my love.”

“Trust me, my star, it was easier said than done.” Clive replied, weaving his fingers with hers.

“I don’t doubt that for a moment.” Jill said. “I’m just relieved that you came back to me. To us.”

“So am I.” He added. He pulled Jill close and pressed a kissing to her temple.

“Perhaps we can go for a walk later, if you’re feeling up to it.”

“I would like that very much.” Torgal barked once at the door before there was a knock. “Can I tell him?”

“You have every right to tell him.” Jill smiled. “Ready?” He nodded with a mirrored smile as she pulled away and opened the door.

 

Joshua never realized how much he missed his brother’s stories until he nearly spat his tea across Clive’s solar as the room burst out into laughter at a particular part of his tale that took place during the first winter at their temporary hideaway after Cid’s death before they found the ruins here in Bennumere.

“Before I could stop him, Gav lit the fire-” Clive chuckled, holding his side, unable to finish his sentence. 

“The poor man lost his dignity and his eyebrows with one struck and fallen match.” Jill corroborated, a fit of giggles overcame her.

“Why didn’t you light it?” Joshua asked him, coughing through the laugh.

“We were still in the middle of the deadlands, so we couldn’t use any magic. Blackthorne had also just said not to light it yet.” Clive said, catching his breath. “Only Gav heard half of it. We needed a flame in the hearth, and we didn’t want to rely on a bearer and crystals to keep the flame burning. Mid’s fuel would have kept it lit for ages if used once every other month, and Gav took it all with one match.”

“It was a harsh winter that year, for us and Gav’s eyebrows.” Jill added. “A lesson learned for all of us.”

“Very much so.” Clive said as he popped another grape in his mouth. “The following spring, we found the Invincible. And despite the black water below, we have made it our home.”

Joshua looked at his brother, and he was smiling. “Honestly, this place suits you more than Rosalith.”

“Rosaria will always be home, but here, there is something about the family we have, the family we found living here,” Clive took a deep breath and took Jill’s hand. “And the growing family to come, that makes it all worth it.” He added, looking at his brother.

Joshua locked eyes with him, and then at Jill. “Wait—” He noticed Jote’s smile, and then he looked back at his brother before it all clicked. “You’re expecting?” Joshua asked, returning his attention to Jill.

“Yes. We are.” Jill replied, squeezing Clive’s hand, the other resting over her stomach.

“I’m going to be an uncle?” He directed his question at Clive.

“I think Uncle Joshua has a wonderful ring to it, don’t you?” My brother countered with a smile. 

“I think so too.” Joshua couldn’t contain his own smile that he now possessed as he stood to hug his brother. “Founder, when?” He asked as they embraced.

“She found out just before we left for Origin.” Clive said, pulling back to look at Jill. “Should be here by Solstice.”

“That’s exciting news.” Joshua said, running a hand through his hair.

“It is.” Jill answered. “I told him that he was going to be a father, and he plans to make me his wife.” She added, raising her hand to show off the sapphire, aquamarine and diamond ring gracing her finger.

Joshua watched Jote’s smile turn to shock. She may have known of Jill’s condition, but must have not known about their engagement. “I believe congratulations are in order for the both of you.” Jote said to her. 

“Thank you.” She replied as they hugged, murmuring kind words to each other. 

“I don’t know when you plan on returning to Rosalith, but Jill and I are coming with you.” Clive said to Joshua. “Jill mentioned that she wanted to exchange vows there, and I know that you wanted me with you when you took up Father’s mantle.”

“I would be honored, brother.” Joshua responded. “I would love nothing more for that. I know your home is here, but you and Jill will always have a home there too.”

“You have a home here as well, Joshua. Take all the time you need to before going back to Rosaria, and if you need a break, a place to get away, you and Jote are always welcome. Run the Duchy from the comfort of the Hideaway if you want.” Clive added. Joshua could claim it as a Rosarian Territory off the record if he wanted too, and Clive wouldn’t mind. “We even have a room for when Uncle Byron comes to visit.”

“We should let him know that we made it back.”

“Jill already took care of that, and he should be here any day now.”  Clive confirmed. “We should also thank him for covering us to get home.”

Joshua nodded. “I couldn't agree more. I’m sure he’ll be pleased with the news that you shared with Jote and I. He’ll likely tell all of Storm once he finds out.” He managed with a chuckle.

“I have no doubt about that.” Clive huffed. “Which is why we told you first.”

Joshua couldn’t help but smile again at the thought.

Notes:

Another long chapter so I do apologize.

Next chapter will be a short one, however, thank you again for the comments and kudos that have been left so far!💕

Chapter 5

Summary:

Byron arrives to check on his nephews, and Joshua and Jote both receive a missive.

Byron arrived at the lake days later and could not contain his excitement at the news of Jill and Clive’s engagement and that they had a child on the way. He embraced Clive and he turned to her and hugged her. 

“Congratulations, my dear.” He murmured. “And thank you for helping to find my nephews and to bring them home.”

Jill wrapped her arms around him. “Of course, Byron. We lost them once before, I was not about to let it happen again…” She said just loud enough for him to hear. “But of course, we had help.”

“No matter, I am forever grateful for it.” He replied as they pulled away. 

“How long will you be staying with us, Uncle?” Clive asked as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

“A couple days,” He answered. “And then I’ll be on my way to Kanver to help tame the populace. I also heard that there are plans to rebuild Rosalith, and that repairs to the castle are underway.” He turned to Joshua. “All for you, dear nephew.”

Clive stiffened beside her as they watched Joshua’s face shift through an array of emotions. The Undying were not going to let him forget his duties and that they could summon him to take up his throne any day. They already do so much for the duchy already, but rebuilding Rosalith from the shadows. Founder, no wonder Joshua didn’t want to go back right away. He looked exhausted, as if he didn’t sleep again last night. If Joshua’s nightmares were getting worse, even with Jote’s sleep potions, then Jill feared for Clive since Tarja was starting to ease him off the tonics since his visible wounds have healed. Sensing his little brother’s discomfort, Clive put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Joshua will return to Rosalith in due time. We all will.” He said. “He’s actually been a great help to us. Until the castle is repaired, he will stay here.” They told Joshua of the damage that Kupka had caused during his occupation, so they hoped it would take longer than they anticipated, but even Martha had mentioned that the castle was near completion given the materials being sent that way.

“I am glad to hear it.” Byron smiled. “I hope my donations to both of your coffers will help as well.” He added, looking at both his nephews. Joshua looked stunned at the mention of a trunk of gil that had his name on it.

“They will. More than you know, Byron.” Jill answered. His last donation of two thousand talents gave them months to keep the shipments from their friends across Storm coming to Charon and Goetz so they could keep the Hideaway running. “We’re glad you came though. You can join in on the festivities tonight.” Now that Clive was healing, there was no stopping Gav from declaring a celebration. The fight for freedom was far from over, but the fall of Ultima and the Mothercrystals was a start.

“I look forward to it.” He replied. “Then I shall take my leave so I have the energy to keep up.” Byron gave the three of them another embrace, Torgal a scratch behind the ears before retiring to his own rooms.

“Rest well, Uncle.” Joshua said as they watched him disappear. He turned to face them. “How long has he donated to your cause?”

“Only once prior and it was before the fall of Drake’s Fang.” Clive answered.

“And it has lasted months.” Jill added. Gaute and Otto are usually ones who run the ledgers, but she took up the responsibilities of managing Byron’s money while she was healing after Rosalith and Clive was in Dhalmekia. They spent five years with barely a handful to their name to spare, surviving on donations, so they’ve learned to be frugal when they could. “It could be next summer before we run out, and that was before we even count this.”

Clive hummed beside her.  “Now that he’s no longer under Mother’s watchful eye, he’s free to do with his money as he pleases. Even if it means giving it freely to the only family he has left. Besides, Byron is one who will not take no for an answer. Trust me, I’ve tried. I also wouldn't ask where he got it.”

“Understandable.” He replied. He still looked aghast from the thought of taking the money. He knew that Byron not only sold an estate to provide the Hideaway the money they needed for the cause, but also helped fund the Enterprise. That ship may have been Mid’s pride and joy, captained by Clive with Joshua as his first mate, but fiscal ownership was Byron’s, whether he knew it or not. 

“Don’t worry, Joshua, I’ll help you count it.” Jill said with a smile. 

“I’ll be honored. Thank you.” He replied. 

“I’ll let you two get to it. I’ll send Gav and Oscar to help you move the trunks to our chambers.” Clive said as he pressed a kiss to Jill's temple. “I’ll see you when I get back from Tarja’s.”

“She’s clearing you?” Joshua asked, as he locked eyes with mine. 

“If you can believe it.” Clive added with a smirk. “I shouldn’t be long.”

Jill pressed a kiss to his cheek, smoothing her thumb over the scar on his face. “You’ll know where to find us. Best not keep Tarja waiting.” Clive nodded once with a wider smile, gave Joshua a pat on the shoulder and made toward the infirmary. 

 

“What in the Founder’s name am I to do with this?” Joshua asked as Clive walked into his solar, while he, and Jill poured over the ledger for each of their trunks. The Undying didn't have deep purses and worked out of donations mostly and Jote had always been in charge of their funds, sparse as they were, during their travels. The thought of having money to put towards anything that he desired was not something he had expected.

“Your brother asked the same thing before leaving for Drake’s Fang.” Jill replied with a smile, her quill scrawling across the parchment. 

“I still don’t know what to do with it.” Clive chuckled as he closed the door behind him, before he drifted to Jill at his desk and wrapped his arms around her. “Though, it did clear out our debts from our lenders, and has helped us keep this place afloat.” He added as he pressed a kiss to Jill’s head. 

“We can always donate some of the funds to the rebuilding efforts in Rosalith.” Jill said. “I’m sure the Undying could also use the money to help the upkeep of the Archives.”

Joshua snapped his head in their direction. “Are you certain, Clive? You and Jill have a child on the way.”

“More than certain, Joshua. Only the Founder knows how much money you’ll need to raise the duchy from the ashes. We’ll be fine.” Clive replied, meeting Jill’s gaze, and she gave a short nod. Only the Founder knew that they had enough money. "And I don't think we'll get much help from the Seven High Houses."

“Very Well. You have my thanks. I only ask that you keep this in your possession until I am ready to return to Rosalith.”

“We can most definitely do that for you.” Jill answered. 

“Is Jote still in the infirmary?” Joshua asked. “I figured she would have come with you.” 

Clive nodded. “Yes. She asked that I send you her deepest apologies, and that she’ll see you later tonight. Tarja and Rodrigue already had their hands tied as it was, and Kaaleiya got her brand removed today, so she remained behind to help care for her.” 

“I understand.” Joshua replied, taking a deep breath. “I wrote to Cyril to let him know that I plan to ask for Jote’s hand.”

“You did? Did you receive a response?” Clive countered.

“I did this morning.” Joshua’s voice shook. So it was either an answer that he was hoping for, or his request was denied and he was going to continue to pursue his plan.

“Let me guess, this letter was of ‘Ask for Forgiveness, not Permission’ intentions?” Joshua’s nod was all the answer Clive needed. He had told him that Jote was Cyril's apprentice to be the Burning Quill before she was knighted and the man and the Elders would likely decline. However, Joshua’s word was absolute, so neglecting to agree would go against their creed. Jote had been at his side when he could not, and for longer at that, disagreements or no. “Is she the one?” Clive finally asked him.

“Without question, brother.”

“You have our support, Joshua.” Jill said, reaching across the deck to squeeze his hand. “Whatever you may require, you need only ask.”

“I want to find the right moment.” He said before they all heard a cheer in the ale hall downstairs. Gav must have opened a barrel to start the celebrations. 

“Maybe after a drink or two tonight.” Clive smirked. “Nothing that a little ale can’t help with, right?”

“But don’t sit on it for too long, and actually tell her how you feel.” Jill said. “You two Rosfields like to withhold your feelings until it is almost too late.”

Clive and Joshua both chuckled. “Noted.” They both said in unison.

 

Kaaleiya had drifted off when the music began playing from the ale hall, her tight grip on Jote's hand had lifted.

“How’s she doing?” Tarja said, wiping her hands with a towel as she approached the bed.

“She just fell asleep.” Jote murmured, as she brushed a stray hair from Kaaleiya’s forehead before looking up at the physicker. “That’s a good sign, yes?”

“Yes, the first few hours are always going to be rough, at least until the wound starts to close.” Tarja lifted the bandage on her face, and Jote's stomach roiled at the sight of the slash of red on her face, and the fresh blood that had begun to well. She was no stranger to injuries, she had seen her fair share with the Undying, on her travels with Joshua and with helping Tarja, but this was her first time seeing someone getting their brand removed and it was nothing short of brutal. As an unmarked Bearer, there was a pang of guilt that she harbored that she was able to live her life as free as it could be with her service to the Undying, while she was tormented daily. Kaaleiya was five years younger than Jote, and had been freed from her chains shortly before she arrived here, and wanted to fight for those who could not protect themselves. “No sign of the curse, fever, or poisoning, so that is also good. Rodrigue and I will be here to watch her in shifts, and let her rest.”

“I can stay, Tarja.” Jote offered. The music had picked up a bit downstairs, but there was a part of her that just wanted to stay here or retreat to her room. “I’m sure you would like to join in on the festivities.”

“You have every right to be down there as well. You have been here since before dawn, Jote. And nearly everyday for the last week.” Tarja said. “We both know that working yourself to the bone will not do any good to either of us.” Jote opened her mouth to protest, but Tarja raised a hand to stop her. “I’m not dismissing you completely. Just take a couple days to take care of yourself, and celebrate with the rest of us.”

Jote nodded hesitatingly. She had retreated to the infirmary all day to keep her mind off of the latest missive from Cyril, reminding her not to be a distraction to His Grace. That she was his attendant, and that the Elders would waste no time to summon her back to the archives and send someone else. She had half a mind to write back to the Burning Quill to tell the Elders that His Grace would let her know himself if she was such, but she shoved the missive into her pocket, and used the Infirmary as a distraction of its own. “Of course.” She replied with a dip in her head.

“Go on.” Tarja said with a small smile as Jote stood to leave. “Have some fun.”

“Thank you.” Jote answered before being surrounded with music and the cheers as she closed the door behind her. She took a deep breath before making her way to the ale hall. 

Notes:

Chapters will slow down as I work on the back log of this fic, but I'll do my best to keep them consistent! ☺️

Thank you so much again for the Kudos and the comments, and for coming on this journey with me! 💕

Chapter 6

Notes:

A little alcohol and dancing won't hurt, right? Joshua and Jote finally talk.

 

**There is some smut later in the chapter. If that is not your thing, please read with caution. If it is your thing, I hope you enjoy.💕

The music was lively, giving Mid’s beloved Orchestrian a well deserved break, everyone was dancing, clapping to the beat and cheering to another round of ale; someone giving Jote a glass of wine as they passed. She pressed her back against the wall and watched the people celebrate the fall of the Mothercrystals, the liberation of aether, of everything that they lost and what they have had left. She scanned the crowd for His Grace, but found the Lord Marquess and Lady Jill dancing to their hearts’ content, Lord Byron chuckling into a flagon of ale with Gav and Blackthorne instead. It was another few moments before she found His Grace across the hall, leaning against the opposing wall, a tankard half forgotten in his hand. A woman asked him a question, no doubt asking him to dance, and she watched him shake his head, extending his apologies, not even looking in her direction as she walked away.

There was a look on his face that showed that there was something preventing him from joining in on the festivities, but she did not allow herself to believe that it was her that was what kept him from doing so. He and Jote had long since forgiven each other for the words that were exchanged during their argument, and have started to share a room once or twice these past weeks when his nightmares proved too much to fight by himself, though nothing went beyond the occasional kiss and holding each other while they slept. The Burning Quill’s past reminders had been as much of a bucket of ice cold water as anything, and it made her wonder if His Grace shared the sentiment, and was only permitting their small time together, regardless of what they were starting to become.

“Lady Jote, may I have this dance?” Oscar Murdoch, the Lord Marquess’ squire back from his recent visit from Eastpool, had asked her with a smile, snapping her from her self doubt. 

Jote looked at him. “Forgive me, my lord. I don’t dance.” She replied with a dip in her head, apologetically. Not exactly a lie. She had been trained to fight at a young age, not to dance like His Grace, the Lord Marquess and his future Marchioness had been.

“Of course, my lady. Another time then.” He bowed once before disappearing into the crowd. Jote knew Oscar meant well, but the man had not taken a hint that she was not interested in his advances. She had been secretly thankful that he left for Eastpool, then it meant she didn't feel like she was exploiting her time with Lady Jill for the sake of staying away from him. Her heart belonged to one person, and it was his in all ways but one. 

The missive from this morning had been burning a hole in her pocket, with that reminder, that she was not to engage with the Archduke. She knew that these demands were likely from the Elders, that Cyril was just penning them to send, but they couldn't not congregate without Joshua to discuss it. Jote took a deep breath and drained the rest of her wine. The hall suddenly felt too hot, too suffocating, her heart pounded hard in her chest as she looked back to where His Grace stood, and he was gone. 

She set her glass on a nearby table as she peered through the crowd to look for him, for any sign of those strawberry blonde curls and there was a glimpse of familiar azure eyes for a moment before they were swept away with another wave of music, and a shift in the dance. Against her better judgment, she dared a step toward the crowd and someone grabbed her hand and pulled her in. 

“Jote. Open your eyes.” Joshua chuckled as he held her close. She had closed her eyes, and her grip in his hand tightened, as the beat of the music picked up, and a roaring cheer filled the hall, and everyone fell into a lively dance.

“I—.” Jote stammered as Joshua tried to keep up with the music and took the lead. “Your Grace. I— I can’t dance.”

“Neither can I, darling, but I don’t think anyone cares.” He replied, as Jote looked at him. He smiled, as it seemed he was glad to see that ‘darling’ caught her attention. He never called her that, even in their travels when they played the pretense of a couple. The crowd opened up as a dance circle began. “Hang on tight.” He added as he locked eyes with the Lord Marquess and Lady Jill, and he took her hand as the circle closed and Gav took the other.

“Joshua—” Jote barely got out over the loud music as they were taken. Those who were not in the circle were clapping with the increasing beat, and then the circle broke into a line and weaved through the hall. Joshua’s laughter filled her ears, followed by the low chuckle of Lord Clive and the giggles of Lady Jill. Joshua looked back at her, and she felt a weight lift from her shoulders as she saw his eyes shine for the first time in days.

 

Joshua looked at Jote, and he had never seen such joy on her face, as if there was not an ounce of anxiety written in her eyes only moments ago. The song finally came to an end, and the cheers were deafening. He let go of Jill’s hand as he surrendered her to his brother before he turned back to Jote. He pulled her close to him again, unable to resist the touch. The closeness.  “I was beginning to think you were hiding from me today.”

“Never from you. Though, it is a bit too crowded for my liking.” She replied as residents were calling for a speech from Clive, their tankards beating against the tables. Speech! Cid!

“Then let's find somewhere quiet.” Joshua answered, pressing a kiss to her temple and led her to the stern of the Fallen airship and up the stairs above Mid’s dungeon. The clouds from the day had cleared and the heavens had opened up to reveal the endless stars in the night sky, the moon a smiling crescent, the crimson star of Metia brighter than it had been in weeks. Even during their travels, he had never seen the sky littered with so many stars. “I pray this is better.” He said to Jote, squeezing her hand gently. 

“Much better, Your Grace.” Her voice was quiet, her gaze away from him, any ounce of joy that he saw downstairs, withdrawn. Something had to be wrong, she had been using his name these last few days, and today, she had gone back to using his title again. She had been in the infirmary all day, so what happened?

“Are you alright?” Joshua asked. When she didn’t answer, he squeezed her hand again. “Jote?” She hummed as she finally looked at him. He knew that look in her face, that wariness. “Are you alright?” Joshua asked again. 

“Yes, Your Grace.” She said with a short nod as she looked back out toward the lake, the flicker of stars shining in the black water. 

“No, you’re not, what is it?” Joshua pressed, his hand drifting to her cheek, and she flinched, and his heart stopped as he withdrew. Oh Founder, he didn’t think and dread struck him. She had watched one of Clive’s Cursebreakers get their brand removed today, and he had touched her where a brand would have rested, if she had been marked. “What happened?” Joshua managed.

“Am I a distraction to you, Your Grace?” She said plainly after a long moment of silence. 

“What?” Joshua choked out. This was not what he was expecting. “Jote–”

“Am. I. A. Distraction?” She interrupted, turning to face him. There was sadness, and frustration in her eyes. 

“What makes you think that…?” Joshua rasped, retreating a step. He wondered what else tried to put a rift between them. Jote said nothing as she pulled out a missive and handed it to him; even in the fire light in the braziers, he recognized Cyril’s hand. He looked at her and she gave him a nod, granting him permission to read it. Joshua read the first paragraph and anger flooded his senses. By the Flames, this was his fault. This so-called reminder to her was degrading, threatening to dismiss her from her assignment to him was infuriating, now that they knew his intentions. He crumpled the parchment in his fist. He was going to have to make a trip to Tabor to remind the Council of Elders who they actually served. “I owe you my deepest apologies, Jote. This is my fault.” Joshua said darkly, taking responsibility. 

“What do you mean?” She asked him. He could already see the fear in her eyes and he gently grabbed her arms to keep her from running away. He had already broken her heart once because he couldn’t say how he truly felt about her before he left for Origin, and he did not plan to do so again. 

“I sent a missive last week to Cyril, telling him what I had planned for you as a Knight of the Undying, to release you as my attendant and to make you my wife and to no surprise, I received a missive this morning stating that the Elders refused. I can only assume this missive to you was in retaliation for my own.”

“Your Grace,” She began, and he could feel her start to shake. “I…”

“I love you,” Joshua said plainly. “And never in my days with you have I ever considered you a distraction. You have been my constant companion, my shadow, my protector for over a decade. I want no one else. I would give it all up for you, and if I couldn’t be free of the shackles of the duchy, then damn what the Elders think, I would still make you my wife, as you deserve.” He searched her face for anything, and she stood before him in shock. It felt like a millennia before tears slipped down her cheeks, and he brushed them away with his thumb. To her credit, she didn’t flinch at his touch this time. “Jote, say something…” He whispered. “Please…”

“You want me to be your wife…?” She asked him finally, uncertainty in her eyes. “I have nothing to offer an Archduke in marriage.”

“I care not what you can offer me, other than what you have already given me.” He replied, pressing his forehead to hers. “I think of nothing else that keeps you at my side.” He murmured at her lips. “I should have asked you when I took you in my arms on the road from Port Isolde, and I’m sorry that it was my cowardice to keep it from you.”

Joshua took a deep breath, waiting for her to push him away, but her mouth crashed with his, her fingers weaving into his hair. He could taste wine on her lips and he kissed her back. “Then I am yours, Joshua Rosfield. Mind, body, and soul.” She whispered before kissing him again.

“And I will be yours, Jote Rivaille. Mind, body, and soul.” Joshua replied, pulling her into his arms and spun her around, coaxing a rare giggle from her. He put her down for a moment, completely lost in her eyes and kissed her the way that he should have before he left for Origin. 

 

The ale ran dry about an hour after Clive’s speech. While he wasn’t ever fond of cakes and ale, Jill was glad he had a tankard or two; Gav not hesitating to press one in Clive’s hand after he told him that she wasn’t drinking for the baby’s sake. He took one look at her as if for permission and she nodded with a smile. Clive was home, was healing, and was going to a husband and father in the coming months; he deserved it. They had lost sight of Joshua and Jote in the crowd for a bit, but then saw the former raise a hand in a gesture of good night, holding the latter in the other as they retreated to their rooms. It didn’t take long for them to follow suit as the festivities began to die down, taking advantage of the music that still played to partake in some much desired illicit activities that had Jill’s hand weaving in Clive’s hair, as she had his name on her lips as he made love to her until they were both spent.

Clive held her close as he drifted off, a hand in her hair, the other wrapped around her middle, his face buried in the crook of her neck, embracing her in his warmth that he never lost after Origin, now that Ifrit was gone. Even as Jill woke hours later, in the pale light before dawn, she almost didn’t want to leave his embrace, but hunger gnawed at her relentlessly. She was far enough along now that she could keep food down again, and her appetite had returned tenfold. She shifted in Clive’s arms and pressed a kiss to his lips, a half asleep hum came from him as his hands moved to adjust his hold on her. 

“What time is it…?” Clive mumbled into her hair. 

“Just before dawn…” Jill whispered. “You can go back to sleep. It may be closer to midday before everyone else rises, but I’m going to see if Molly and Maeve left any food out.”

Clive chuckled as his hand drifted to the swell of her stomach. “Is someone hungry?”

“Before too long, their appetite may rival yours.” Jill answered with a sleep filled smile, her hand trailing to meet his, Clive humming as their unborn child stirred.

“Don’t take too long, my star.” Clive growled playfully, tickling her to ease a giggle from her before releasing her.

“I won’t, my love.” Jill pressed another kiss to his lips as she withdrew from his warmth and pulled Clive's discarded tunic over her frame, another growl of satisfaction leaving him, before she padded barefoot downstairs, pulling her long hair into a loose bun in the murky light. She turned to go behind the bar when she saw someone move in her peripherals, and she nearly leapt out of her skin before recognizing the person before her. “Jote—” Jill exclaimed before realizing that she scared her as well.

“Jill—” She managed, hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, I’m the one I should be sorry for scaring you.” Jill replied, before taking her in. Clad in only a black tunic that could only be Joshua’s, her hair mused with sleep and if the fresh bite marks on her neck were any inclination. “It looks like you had a lovely evening.” She smiled as Jote’s face flooded with color. “Or a well deserved time in bed.” She giggled.

“I–” She stammered before letting out a giggle of her own, running a hand through her disheveled hair. “We didn’t— We didn’t keep you up, did we…?” She added nervously.

“On the contrary. The party was still going strong when you and Joshua retreated to your rooms, and when we went to bed, so if anyone heard you two or us for that matter, it was the Founder herself.” Jill reassured her as she opened a cupboard to find bread, cheese and a few of Martelle’s apples. “Hungry?” Jill offered. “I can split this up and you can take some back with you for Joshua.” 

“Yes.” Jote answered. “I would like that very much.” She added with a smile as she began slicing some bread, and the cheese, as Jill took care of the apples. “His Grace asked me to marry him.” She added.

“He did?” Jill smiled at Jote’s nod. “When’s the big day?” Jill asked her as she caught Jote playing with the ring on her finger while they ate. Jote had told Jill that Joshua had given it to her during their travels, and now it was her betrothal ring to him.

“His Grace— Joshua,” She corrected herself. “Wants to go to Tabor to declare us married in the eyes of the Undying." Jote wasn't entirely sure how that conversation would go with Cyril and the Council, but it needed to be done given each of their status. "I personally don’t want anything too big, but a proper ceremony may happen after he ascends the throne." 

“There is nothing wrong with a small ceremony or big wedding celebration. Clive and I don’t want anything big, perhaps only a few witnesses like you and Joshua.” Jill said as she plated what was left of their early morning snack. 

“Would you come with us?” Jote asked as she cleaned up and took the plate and a pitcher of water. “You and the Lord Marquess? To Tabor, I mean.”

“Of course we will. I doubt Clive would want to miss the marriage of his little brother and I would not miss it for the world, knowing that you get a happy ending as well.”

“I am very happy to call you a friend, Jill.” She said, “Or I guess, sister now.” 

“As am I.” Jill answered as she held open the door to the bar for Jote. “Try to get some sleep while you can,” She teased. If Joshua was as ravenous as his brother in bed, then she would need it. “And I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Thank you. I will.” She smiled again before disappearing to her wing of the Invincible where her Rosfield was and Jill retreated back to their solar, where her own Rosfield had dozed off against his pillows, as if he tried to wait for her. Jill brushed the dark hair from his brow, kissing his forehead as she crawled back in bed. 

Clive pulled her close to him, humming into her neck. “I want you.” He growled softly, pressing his lips to that spot behind her ear, a hand smoothing along her thigh. 

“I’m all yours, my love.” Jill murmured as his hands roamed until they found purchase of her waist and was embraced in Clive’s inferno that swept her back into pleasurable oblivion once more.

 

Joshua was still asleep when Jote returned. She did not anticipate seeing Jill at this hour in her state, but she would have rather have run into her than anyone else. Jote was quiet as she set the plate down on the bedside table, before looking at the clothes that were haphazardly thrown on the floor and was careful as she crawled into bed. She tried not to wake Joshua– no longer her master, but her fiancé, as she knew that he had a hard time sleeping these days with the night terrors, even with the tonics that she made for him.

As she sat against the pillows beside him, he appeared to be at peace. He laid on his stomach, the scars from the Night of Flames were silver in the pale light in his room; a few slashes from Ifrit across his back mixed with the burns of phoenix feathers from his wings and tails that ran down his spine and shoulders like a tattoo and disappeared where the blanket covered the rest of his naked body. The only thing left that showed his lineage of a Dominant of the Phoenix. As much as she was sure it pained Joshua to receive those scars, they were beautiful. Jote had only seen them once, shortly after he had awakened from his long sleep over a decade ago, and then he had been mindful during their travels to keep them hidden. Part of her was glad that when his brother healed him, any trace of the curse had faded and that those scars remained. She had seen similar scars on Jill, and Prince Dion as they earned those during their first priming, scars of claiming from their Eikons, during their stays in the Infirmary. Tarja had told her that Cid also carried scars of Ramuh on his back as well; however, Clive's claiming scars were long since destroyed under the lashes that he had received during his time as a Branded Imperial soldier. 

His blonde hair was messy from her hands running through it as he took his time with her; making sure that she was okay with everything that he did; careful not to stir up horrible memories of what happened at Caer Norvent. For five years, Joshua regretted every scar and bruise that graced her body from that night, for not stopping them sooner and last night, he worshipped her; his lips tracing each silver line on her skin, claiming her as his. He showed her what it was like to actually be with a man who truly loved her, and that the bruises that marred her body were out of affection, not violence. That the noises that left her were of pleasure and not of pain. Considering that he knew that the last man who touched her as such did it by force, Joshua was gentle, efficient, and did not proceed any further unless she consented. Jote shifted slowly to lay down, when he stirred and she found drowsy blue eyes staring up at her, a lazy smile on his face as a hand smoothed along her bare thigh.

“Admiring the view, darling?” He muttered, sleep lulling his voice as he sat up slightly.

“I would be lying if I said no, my beloved.” Jote said, moving to meet him halfway to kiss him, and his hand ran up higher up her thigh, squeezing gently. She pulled away, grabbing his wrist with a smirk, a dangerous game now he played. “Unless you plan to finish what you start, I would tread with caution.” She teased, weaving her other hand in his hair.

“Forgive me, my lady.” Joshua chuckled as he leaned over her to press his lips to the marks he left on her neck, and she couldn’t stop the soft hum that escaped her as he trailed back to her mouth. 

“Joshua—” Jote breathed as his hand slid up further and halted her words at his lips as he reignited that flame from last night within her. Whatever leash he held himself on, slipped with a low, playful growl in her ear as his damned hand found that bundle of nerves, daring two fingers and her back arched in response. He had taken his time with her last night, had her moaning his name until her body shattered thrice from his ministrations and she craved more. Jote's thoughts melted a moment before she removed his hand, and rolled, pinning him to his back. It wasn’t until she straddled him that she realized that she had no idea what she was doing.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Joshua’s voice was gentle, as he read the uncertainty in her face, his hands resting on her waist. She readjusted herself and took in the satisfaction of him stifling a groan as she moved to accommodate him fully. “Founder—”

“Is this alright?” Jote asked him. By the Flames, he was so beautiful.

“More than alright.” He replied as he shifted slightly to have full access to her mouth. “Take your time, darling. I trust you.”

“Okay.” Jote whispered as she kissed him and began to move, Joshua not hesitating to claim her with his tongue. She started slow, working to find a rhythm and knew she found it when her beloved loosened a noise that she never heard from him before. She rode him hard until lightning shot up her spine, her body threatening to shatter, her name at Joshua’s lips as a hand twisted in her hair, the other white knuckled his pillow. Jote shuddered as she braced her arms on either side of his head, whimpering in the crook of his neck; seeing stars while he spilled into her as he met his own release, his responding moan in her shoulder. 

“Are you okay?”  Joshua asked into her hair as Jote carefully got off of him and collapsed beside him, and he pulled her close as she had begun to shake.

“Yes.” She replied, laying her head on his chest as they caught their breath. He was so warm, even with the Phoenix’s absence.

“Is this my shirt?” He asked after a moment, his hand smoothing along her waist as the light in the room began to grow brighter with the rising sun.

“Perhaps.” Jote countered. “I believe someone threw my clothes to the other side of the room last night in their haste to have me in their bed.”

Joshua lifted his head and saw the remaining articles of clothing haphazardly scattered across the room. “So it appears I did. My deepest apologies, my lady.” He huffed a chuckle as he returned his gaze to her. “You think anyone will miss us if we don't get up?”

“I doubt it. Everyone is still asleep.” Joye murmured, feeling her eyes grow heavy, in complete bliss. That's if we didn't wake them with our activities.  She thought.

“Then sleep, Jote.” Joshua mused. “I'll be here when you wake.” He added, pressing a kiss to her head as sleep claimed her.

Notes:

I have always loved the party scene in Titanic when Jack and Rose were below decks and just the dancing they did, so the dancing that Joshua and Jote did was very reminiscent of that. 🥰

I had the idea of Dominants having a scar-like tattoo on their backs that would show that they were claimed by their Eikon, usually granted after their first priming and that these would take the form of pieces that would appear during a Semi Prime, so Dion and Joshua would have their wings and tails and Jill with Shiva’s cloak, etc.

Joshua, having Primed at Phoenix Gate, had his mixed with a slash from Ifrit.

Clive’s, however, may have taken a different form, since he was Mythos. It may have evolved with each Eikon that he possessed, however, taking into account his time and abuse as an Imperial Branded, his tattoo was lost to the lashes he may have received.

Thank you again for the all the comments and kudos! You guys are amazing! 💕

Chapter 7

Summary:

The Rosfields go on a journey to visit a friend before going to Tabor.

Notes:

🎉It's Final Fantasy XVI's 2nd Anniversary today, so we get a new Chapter! 🎉

However, please forgive the pain this chapter is going to cause with the Flashback that occurs before the Tri-Disaster left for Origin.

I promise this is the second to last stop on the pain train before we get to the happier stuff. 💕

Clive thought Byron was going to keel over upon hearing the news the morning after spending a day nursing hangovers of Joshua's plan to marry Jote after breakfast before he left.

“You must come to Port Isolde and I'll host a ball in your honor, my boys.” He said, excitedly. “I never thought I'd see the day that I would see both of my nephews engaged.”

“It can be the first ball at Rosalith Castle.” His brother mused with a smirk. Joshua was going to return to Rosalith with Jote at his side as his wife and Clive as his First Shield. Clive was proud of him holding his ground, now with a new life ahead of him. “That, I can promise you, Uncle.” 

“Be warned, nephew, I'll hold you to it.” Their uncle smiled as he clapped a hand on Joshua’s shoulder. “Your father would be proud of the both of you for following your hearts rather than the schemes of others.”

“That's why I'm choosing to marry her. Why Clive's marrying Jill. We don't want history to repeat itself.” Joshua replied.

“Well said, brother.” Clive added. That much was true. Their parents’ marriage was arranged and it ended poorly, so they both chose love over duty and did not care what anyone thought. They planned to go to Tabor to confirm their marriage with the Undying as they had more complications to worry about, considering his brother's title as Archduke and Jote's position as a Knight. Clive was thankful that Jill was in no rush to exchange their vows until they found the right time, so long as it was before the baby was born.

“I am glad to hear it.” Byron chuckled. “I expect a missive of happy news when things are official. For both of you.”

“You have our word, Uncle Byron.” Clive said as he gave them a hug. “When were you going to Kanver?”

“I plan to leave in a few hours. Why?”

“Clive and I have a friend that we would like to visit in Sanbreque and business in Tabor, so we were wondering if you would like the company until we part ways.” Joshua said. 

“I would like that very much.” Byron confirmed. “In that case, I best make ready. I'll see you on the docks.” 

“Of course, Uncle.” Clive's brother bid him a short wave as they watched him walk away.

“Are you ready to make that journey, Joshua?” Clive asked him. He had asked about Dion’s mangled lance and wondered if he could have it repaired and take it to the grave Dion had made for Terence. To give them the peace that they deserved, even in death. Clive couldn't agree more, but he knew how heavily Dion's death still weighed on Joshua's conscience. 

Upon looking at the mess of his own weapon that he had since his tenth nameday, he had a thought to not let Blackthorne fix it, as well as His Highness's spear, but instead, when the blacksmith presented him with a new blade as well as a new one for Clive, he let it rest with Invictus with his own shrine to those they lost. Death to his old life as a sickly heir to a fallen country, and reborn as a new man who was not letting anyone walk all over him.

“No, but considering that his body was never found, he deserves this.” Joshua replied quietly. “If this is the only way to grant Dion peace, then I have to be ready.” 

Dion lost everything he had left when Origin rose. Clive knew it in his eyes, the fear, the anger as he saw that Mothercrystal rise to the skies while they were at Stonhyrr. Dion was devastated, knowing that it was him that sent his lover to the ruins of the Crystalline Dominion and nothing else had tied him to this plane any longer. Despite Joshua and Clive’s attempts to convince him not to go, he was willing to join them on that suicide mission, to see Terence in death so long as he made the effort to free the world of Ultima’s control.

“Then we must get ready to go too.” Clive answered. “We've got a long journey ahead of us.”

 

Before the Fall of Origin:

Dion had summoned Clive and Joshua in the middle of the night having not slept in the few days since their return from Stonhyrr with the request that they come with him to Twinside, in hopes that he may find his Second in Command, Terence. He expected a stolas to arrive that gave him some indication that he was alright, that he made it out of the Crystalline Dominion, but he received none. Clive agreed with no hesitation and they had left the next morning. When they arrived at what was left of the Dominion, the damage was immense. It would have been a miracle if anyone survived. He gave Clive a quick description of his Second in Command, as Joshua had already met him a month or so prior before they separated to triple their efforts.

“TERENCE!” The Prince's voice was raw from screaming his name and only the crows replied in their mourning call. “Terence!” 

“Shit–” Joshua cursed as he stumbled over some rubble and it gave way from beneath him, wincing at the harsh landing. The dust triggered a coughing fit as Joshua tried to collect himself from the fall. He struggled a breath as the taste of blood coated his tongue, and he felt a pulse of pain from the crystal over his heart. 

“Are you alright, Joshua?!” His brother shouted as he locked eyes with the empty stare of Terence as the dust settled, half buried in the debris, blood at his lips. It could have been any man, but Joshua recognized the patch at his sleeve that identified him as not only high ranks of a Dragoon of the Holy Order, but Second in Command. Ultima’s whispers filled his head as the ringing in his ears began to fade. “Joshua!” Clive called again when Joshua didn't respond.

“I'm fine!” Joshua managed to shout back, swallowing back the scream that fought up his throat. He looked up at Clive who came to check on him. “I found him, Clive.” He said grimly as he already got to work to try to move the rubble. 

“Dion!” Clive called to the Prince, before sliding into the gully beside him. “Founder–” Clive muttered under his breath as he assessed the ruins. “Easy, easy. The whole thing can give way.” He warned Joshua as he helped him and lifted the portion of the fallen wall to give him the space to pull Terence free. “As soon as there’s enough space, pull him out.” Joshua nodded at his brother's order as he heard the uneven, running footfalls of Dion approached and Joshua closed his eyes upon hearing a sob leave his friend as he made his descent into the trench with him and Clive. “I'm sorry, Dion… He’s gone.” His brother's voice was quiet as he pulled the man out, and Dion fell to his knees, his lance clattering to the stones that brought a quiet, that even silenced the crows. 

They could do nothing as they watched Dion scramble to him and held his broken and bloody body close, pressing a kiss to Terence’s temple, before releasing a guttural scream full of anger, of fear, of hatred, of sadness that was in no way human. A scream that Joshua no doubt would emit if he found Jote in such a state, or Clive with Jill. Terence must have died just before they arrived, given how fresh the blood was, as the crows hadn't come for him yet, but he likely laid under the ruins for days before succumbing to his injuries. It hurt Joshua to think that he had to die like that. Alone, forced to suffer a death so painful that he didn't wish upon anyone.

“Bring him back–” Dion rasped, looking up at Joshua. His face turned near feral when Joshua didn't move. “BRING HIM BACK!” His voice broke as he screamed at him, and Clive moved between them. “Bring him back to me…” His voice now no louder than a whisper as he brushed Terence’s matted hair away from his bloodied face. 

“I-I can’t…” Joshua managed. Even with the power of the Phoenix, he couldn't even if he wanted to. He already felt so weak with the crystal in his chest draining whatever strength he had left. “I'm sorry, Dion…” 

Unrelenting grief and guilt and regret and agony had filled Dion's eyes as he cried, rocking gently back and forth with Terence’s lifeless body in his arms as he came to terms that his friend, his love, his soulmate, his remaining anchor to this world, was gone. As if he was the one who killed him himself. “I’m sorry, Terence. I’m so sorry, my love…” The Prince rasped into his hair.

“If you let me in, Phoenix, you can fix this.”Ultima mused in Joshua's head, a sharp pain slashing behind his eyes.

“No.” Joshua shot back. He knew that if he let Ultima in, he would lose whatever humanity he had left. They would lose more than just Terence.

“A pity.” 

“Joshua?” Clive asked quietly when Joshua grew withdrawn, completely unaware of the mental sparring match that Joshua was struggling to win to keep control.

Joshua looked at Clive, and watched his face turn to concern upon seeing the blood start to drip from his nose. “I'm fine, brother.” He lied, wiping the blood with his sleeve. Whether or not his brother believed him, he didn't dare ask.

Clive offered to carry the Second in Command out of the city as the sun began to sink on the horizon and Dion hesitated before eventually surrendering Terence to him. Dion lingered for another moment to search for one more body, of a girl, but as night fell, they were forced to leave as the Akashic were starting to gravitate towards them.

“Thank you, Ifrit… Phoenix..." Was all that Dion could manage as they left, his voice torn and broken. 

Dion had primed and had taken them to a hill that he and Terence often frequented as children that overlooked Oriflamme just outside the barracks of Northreach, surrounded by a grove of trees and a Fallen ruin that they would share a private moment each time they escaped here and decided that it would be where he would bury him, the ruin acting as his stone. Dion insisted that he would dig the grave himself before Clive rolled up his sleeves and he joined him, Joshua not hesitating either to help. They dug in silence, grief heavy between them in the moonlight. Only after putting Terence to rest did Dion speak again. “I pushed him away to protect him. To think that he would have been safer at my side—” He pressed his forehead to the ruin before standing and looked at them. “I'm going with you to Origin. My only request is that you bring me back to be with him when my body gives out.” Dion said firmly, looking at the glowing Mothercrystal high in the sky, as if he knew that he wasn't coming back alive.

After that, it seemed wrong for Clive and Joshua to refuse him.

 

After the Fall of Origin:

Joshua knelt before Terence's grave, with Dion's ornate lance in hand, Clive beside him as they said a silent prayer to the Founder as they buried the repaired lance just above where Terence rested. “May you find peace, Dion…” Joshua managed, smoothing a hand on the stone of the ruin, unable to stop the tears that slipped down his face as Clive set two wyverntails before it, one white and one violet.

“He will…” Clive said quietly as he placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “They both will now.” 

“I just wish that there was more that we could have done.” Joshua murmured.

“Dion knew that taking down Ultima was going to be a fool's errand if we didn't understand the risks.” His brother replied. “He knew that there was a chance that he wasn't going to come back and knew that Terence was waiting for him on the other side.”

Joshua nodded as he looked down the hill where Jill, Jote, Torgal and Uncle Byron waited patiently for them. “If you put it that way…” He began. “I wondered what would have happened if we didn't come back…” 

“I try not to dwell on it, Joshua. Especially now.” Clive answered darkly. The nightmares have started to plague him as well, but he’s had Jill to help bring him out of them. “Besides, we would be doing Dion's sacrifice a disservice if we continue to wallow in the past and drown in regret. He chose to die on his terms, so we may live on ours.” 

“I suppose you're right, brother.” Joshua relented as he gave the Founder one final prayer before standing. They had their loved ones waiting for them at home, Dion knew that death would bring him home to Terence. “I used to live the life that I knew was going to be cut short, so this is uncharted territory.”

“That makes two of us.” Clive said as he stood beside him. “You deserved so much more than what you were given.”

“You also, Clive. Don't forget that.” Joshua said as they embraced.

“To Tabor?” Clive asked after a long moment of silence as they separated.

“To Tabor.” Joshua said with a nod, giving the gravestone one more glance and without another word, they descended the hill, leaving the remains of Dion Lesage and Terence, to spend their afterlife together.

Notes:

I love Terence and Dion, and seeing the Inner Thoughts, I know that Terence and Kihel are okay after Origin rose, however the flashback was written in the early stages of this fic and I didn't want to cut it.

There is a painting of Ivan the Terrible and his son by Russian realist artist Ilya Repin made between 1883 and 1885 and depicts the grief-stricken Russian tsar Ivan the Terrible cradling his dying son, the Tsarevich Ivan Ivanovich, shortly after Ivan the Terrible had dealt a fatal blow to his son's head in a fit of anger.

Of course, after seeing Dion's reaction after seeing Origin rise, and upon hearing that the Crystalline Dominion had been wiped off the map, I saw this painting in my head with Dion holding Terence instead. I shouldn't want fanart of this, but now I can't see this painting and not see them, and I cannot sketch to save my life.

Chapter 8

Notes:

In which the simplest plans fall apart and Joshua wishes that he still had his flames as the Elders try to force him and Jote apart.

This is the last stop on the pain train, I promise.

They spent the night in Boklad and said their goodbyes to Uncle Byron as they approached a fork on the road to Tabor, his appointment in Kanver could not allow any additional delay to stay with them, but was happy that he got to spend the time with them, to get to know the woman that was to be Joshua’s wife. He gave them his congratulations once more, and to write as soon as they arrived back at the Hideaway before they parted ways. 

As they approached Tabor, Jote had gone noticeably quiet, despite being cheerful earlier that morning, and Joshua took her hand, squeezing it gently to remind her that he would never leave her, never push her away again. Clive and Jill also picked up on it as well, continuing their conversation to keep up the pretense that they found nothing amiss, Torgal on alert. Two hooded guards stood at the door of the Archives and Jote stiffened.

“Sister Jote, we’ve been expecting you.” One of the guards spoke firmly. “Your Grace.” He added with a dip of his head, his partner following suit.

“The Burning Quill wishes to speak with you, Sister.” The other guard said as he gestured for the door. Joshua took a step forward, and the guards each raised a hand to stop him. “Apologies, Your Grace. Master Cyril has requested to speak to Sister Jote alone.”

“Whatever is said between her and Cyril can be said in my presence.” Joshua said. As Cyril's apprentice, she was entitled to council with him in private, and had done so periodically during their travels over the years, but now that the Elders are now aware of their intentions to marry, he was unable to shake the horrible feeling that began to spider crawl up his spine. 

“Those were his orders, Your Grace.” The first guard answered. “Once his meeting with his apprentice has concluded, then he will meet with you all.”

“So be it.” Joshua kissed Jote's temple. “We’ll be right outside, Jote.” He said into her hair.

“Alright.” Jote replied before stepping into the Archive. Her eyes adjusted to the light as the door shut behind her and it was not just Cyril that awaited her, but the Undying Council of Elders as well. None of which looked all too happy to see her.

 

“I don’t like this.” Jill said after a half of an hour's bell rang as Joshua paced outside of the Archive for what felt like a century.

“I don’t either.” Clive replied. He looked up at his brother. “Did any other meetings between her and Cyril take this long?”

“I agree, and no they were never this long. Cyril perhaps only took a quarter of an hour–” Joshua replied as he stopped, turning towards the Archive upon hearing Jote scream his name and the panic pierced his heart like a knife, Clive already having a hand on his sword as he pushed past the guards at the door and entered the Archive to find Jote on her knees being held as an Elder held a iron tipped ninetailed whip already dripping with blood. 

“Jote–” Jill started, before Clive pulled her behind him.

“What is the meaning of this?” Joshua demanded, assessing the situation and his gaze turned dark as he took in the sight of Jote’s shredded back, red staining the stones beneath her. “Unhand her, now!”

An Elder, a hooded figure with a silver beard, stepped forward. “You do not need to concern yourself with this one, Your Grace. The Bearer of the Burning Quill will serve you directly from now on. You, the Lord Marquess and Lady Warrick may take your leave.”

“We’re not leaving without her.” Clive growled in response. He was glad that he hadn't met the Elders of the Undying prior to now as anger flooded his senses. While these Elders were responsible for Joshua's survival after Phoenix Gate, they had left him for dead, allowed him to be taken as an Imperial Branded and then had the gall to send assassins after him. Jote had been at his brother's side longer than he had, and they would rather beat her rather than release her to allow her to marry. No wonder she had grown quiet, she knew this may happen. Clive had Cyril's respect, but the Elders apparently had been the ones calling shots in his brother's stead. He was grateful that Cyril had kept the Hideaway secret from them, otherwise they would have stolen her away in the night. Jill's hand weaved with his which kept him from seeing red, the crater that Ifrit used to occupy filled with fire. “Now answer my brother’s question.”

“It is forbidden to hold council without the Phoenix when it involves someone directly to me, Elder Maylor. Whatever insubordination she is charged with, I take full responsibility for.” Joshua snapped as he directed his attention to Cyril. “She–”

“She knows of the laws of our creed, Your Grace.” Another Elder, an older woman that could be from their grandfather's time, interrupted before Cyril had the opportunity to speak. “We should be thanking you for bringing this to our attention by writing to Cyril with your insistence of her marriage to you, as it has become clear that she has grown far too attached to you, a violation of her oath as a Knight and as apprentice of the Burning Quill. If she thought that the action of affection from a month ago outside Port Isolde went unnoticed by our eyes, she is sorely mistaken.” The crone added. “We as the Undying serve from the shadows, nothing more.” 

“She is receiving her punishment accordingly, and will be stripped of her title as a Knight and Apprentice and will be sent back to the Archives as an Acolyte.” The other male Elder spoke. 

“You would go against the word of the Phoenix to uphold those laws, Elder Hilda? Elder Enzo?” Joshua spat at them. “She has committed no crime, she has not broken her oath. If she is to be punished for expressing her feelings for me, then I should be sentenced for it as well for permitting it.” 

“She has received several warnings, Your Grace.” Elder Erina, a woman no older than his mother, drawled. “Elder Enzo, you may continue.”

Joshua drew his sword and pointed it at Elder Enzo who stood before Jote. “If you strike her again, I will cut you down where you stand.” 

“Your Grace–” Cyril began, and Joshua raised a hand to silence him.

“I am the Archduke of the Grand Duchy of Rosaria, Keeper of the Flame of the Phoenix, Master of the Knights of the Undying.” Joshua announced, his grip shifting with his sword. It was the first time Clive had heard him utter those words, the full acceptance of his title, even with the absence of those flames, he still carried that power in his voice.  “And I demand you release her!”

“Clive–” Jill started as they watched the Elder not take Joshua's threat seriously and proceeded.

Clive heard the panic in Jill's voice. “Joshua!” He shouted to warn him, already moving. Jote made a sharp intake of breath as her back split open further, the crimson puddle at her knees grew as blood flooded freely. The room filled with her ear splitting scream as the ninetales struck her again. 

Joshua's face turned feral as he ran between them, Elder Enzo rearing back to dare another lash to Jote's back before he moved in front of the whip, and raised his arm to stop it; her blood splattering across Joshua's face as he ripped it out of the Elder’s hand before running him through with his blade. The body barely hit the floor before he turned to the guards holding her. “Release her. Unless you wish to join him.” He demanded, flicking the blood from his blade. “Now!” 

“Or what?” The dark haired guard questioned. 

“Or you will find that my brother's patience is not infinite!” Clive snapped, putting his blade at the guard's throat and they released her, Jote sagging into Joshua's arms. 

“Fine, who would want a damaged harlot–” The guard said under his breath as he stepped away and Clive cut him down before he could finish that sentence. The guard choked on his own blood as he collected Jote’s dagger from his body and the red haired guard, who had a fresh slice across his face, raised his hands in surrender. Good, it appeared that she put up a fight before they flogged her.

Clive stepped in front of Joshua and Jote, helping him get Jote to her feet. She would need a healer quickly, the whip having done an efficient job to cut deeply into her back. The broken cry that left her as she clung to Joshua was enough to make him feel the fire again. “You realize this is treason, for raising a hand against the Archduchess.” Clive prayed Joshua would catch his words and play along as he pulled her shirt to her shoulders to restore some decency, even though the tunic was soaked in her blood.

“Archduchess?” Hilda and Erina scoffed together. 

“You jest, Lord Marquess.” Maylor chuckled as if he didn't just have Jote flogged like a slave as Clive had been. “She may be of the Undying, but she holds no noble blood.”

“Are you calling the Archduke a liar?” Jill countered. They all could lose their heads for that. They knew Joshua wouldn't go that far, but they wouldn't protest. “She has done her duty serving the Phoenix in more ways than one, not only his companion, as his Shield, but more so as his bride.”

“And why should we believe you, Lady Warrick?” The silver bearded Elder spoke grimly.

“Jote and I were handfast by Rosarian customs, with my brother and Lady Jill as witnesses.” Joshua lied with ease. “We came to have the union confirmed, regardless of your approval, not to have my wife be put through an unauthorized trial when I have already made it abundantly clear with my Burning Quill that she was to be married to me. Our marriage has already been consummated; may the Founder have mercy on you all if she loses my heir.” He continued and the remaining Elders, and Cyril paled. 

Clive’s heart leapt to his throat. “Jill, get Jote out of here and find a healer that will tend to her wounds enough to get home. Send Torgal to us when you have a chance.” He said firmly, and he heard her light steps approach. “Joshua and I will take care of things here.” He didn't need to look back to see if she followed his order. 

The door slammed shut and his brother rolled his shoulders. “Cyril.” Joshua said, cutting the silence.

“Yes, Your Grace.” The Bearer of the Burning Quill bowed deeply. 

“Who else knows of this meeting?” Joshua asked coldly.

“Only the guards, myself and the Council before you.” Cyril didn't rise. 

“Then it will remain that way. Since they cannot be trusted to not congregate in my absence, can the Undying be trusted without the Council of the Elders?”

“It may be difficult to sever those ties, Your Grace, but it can be done.” 

“So be it. As the Elders have mentioned that the Burning Quill will serve me and my wife directly moving forward, they and their personal guards are then stripped of their statuses. They will have two choices. Leave this room alive, and be sworn to secrecy, or join their comrade in death for treason.” Joshua's voice was filled with a fiery rage that silenced the three hooded Elders, and Clive knew that if he had his flames, he would have burned them without question. Cyril remained in his bow and nodded before stepping back. “Cyril and Clive, stay. The rest of you? Get out. Consider this the Phoenix’s final mercy.” His brother did not meet the eyes of the Elders that left without another word but they met Clive’s, his own anger rolling off him. When only Cyril and Clive remained, did Joshua speak again. “Send the assassins after them.” 

“Your Grace?” Cyril asked as if he didn't hear him correctly.

“I am no fool to think that this would be over by me sending them away, but I'm not taking my father's throne and starting off by having Clive and I execute the others responsible for putting the whip to Jote's back personally.” Joshua put it darkly. “I cannot be Archduke while I have others attempting to undermine me. Do it. Considering it wasn't difficult to send them after my brother. Do not ask me to repeat myself.”

“On your word, Your Grace.” Cyril bowed again, as he knew that he was in no way in the clear as he did nothing to stop this. “It will be done.” Joshua knelt down, wiped the blood from his sword on the robes of the fallen Elder Enzo, sheathing it as he made for the door. “Your flames are no longer of that boy we saved all those years ago. It’s something new.” Cyril said quietly.

Joshua stopped and turned to the Burning Quill. “That boy died on Origin, Master Cyril. I'm what Ultima didn’t destroy when he killed me.” He said plainly, before stepping out of the Archives, and Clive behind him.

Notes:

These next few chapters are going to be a little rough, but with the Elders out of the way, there's nothing that would keep Joshua and Jote apart.

Chapter 9

Notes:

Who comes to help when the healer needs a healer?

In her half-conscious state, Jote directed Jill towards her small apartment and they were met with another hooded man, who had to be no older than Jill herself. “By the Phoenix…” The man said as he took her in, removing his hood and rushed towards them as Jote began to flag.

“Garrett…” Jote murmured, pain heavily laced in her voice. Jill reached for her rapier, but Jote lifted her head. “No, it’s okay, he can be trusted…” She winced as he pulled her arm over his shoulder.

“She needs a healer.” Jill said darkly as they helped her into her apartment, and got her settled face down on the bed. “She’s losing a lot of blood.”

“The Elders have forbidden the healers to come to the living quarters today.” Garrett said as he began going through a drawer and gave Jote a leather piece. 

“They mean to leave you to suffer this alone?” Jill asked.

“Yes. If you're the unfortunate soul that receives their wrath.” Garrett answered, as he poured a tonic over her wounds and Jote gripped the sheets, biting down on the leather bit, groaning past it. “We try to take care of each other when this happens, but not everyone takes the risk.” He said as he began to clean her ravaged back.

“Why would you take that risk now?” Jill dared. 

“Because she took the risk when I got my first whipping as an acolyte. I have a debt to repay.” He replied, taking needle and thread to the deepest of the wounds. Jill held her friend's hand while Garrett laid stitches into her back, letting her nails dig into her skin, running her remaining hand through her hair as she screamed past the bit, before helping him remove her belt, shirt and coat at her waist and wrap bandages around her. “I'll see to it that these are washed before you leave.” Garrett gestured to her blood soaked clothes.

“Thank you, Garrett.” Jill said with a nod.

“Garrett–” Jote warned through a pained gasp. “Tell no one… Master Cyril is the only one who knows…” 

“Understood.” Garrett handed her a tonic to drink. “Have her take this. It should help her sleep.” He said before leaving the room.

Jill gave Jote a moment to breathe before giving her the tonic. Torgal whimpered once, nudging Jote's cheek before looking at Jill. “Careful, boy.” Jill murmured, petting him. “Can you find Clive and Joshua and bring them here?” The wolf huffed into her hand in agreement and she opened the door to let him out.

“Where's Joshua…?” Jote asked quietly after silence fell between them, her voice broken from the screaming. Deep bruises had started to blossom on her cheek from where she was struck across the face, on her arms where those guards gripped her to keep her still, and had beaten her.

“He'll be here soon...” Jill brushed her hair away from her face. Jill had never seen Joshua so angry, and if Clive still had Ifrit, or Joshua with the Phoenix, she had no doubt that the brothers would have brought their Eikons of Fire and the Inferno forth. “Just try to relax, alright?” 

“I’m sorry…” She said under her breath as her adrenaline faltered, her eyes fluttering as she fought to stay awake.

“No… No, you don’t need to apologize at all, Jote…” Jill replied. “This was not your fault.” There was a bark outside the door as her grip on her hand loosened. Jill slipped her hand free as she made for the door and found Clive and Joshua outside, Torgal sitting patiently before them. Jill stepped out and let Torgal in. “Keep her company, but be gentle, boy.” She warned, the wolf letting out a small whine in response as she closed the door behind her leaving the three of them outside.

“Is she—” Joshua started. “Is she okay?” There were still splatters on his face from stopping the blood soaked whip.

“She’s resting, but she should be okay for now.” Jill reassured him, and she watched him loosen his breath that he undoubtedly held. “We had help from another Knight. They knew this was going to happen and the Elders advised the healers to stay away, but Jote said that he could be trusted. She was losing too much blood to wait.” 

“Nine tails are not to be trifled with. They are designed to cause the most damage in so few lashes, so if she was able to get someone to tend to her, it’s something.” Clive said darkly. Out of the three of them, while Imreann had taken a whip to Jill, she had seen the scars on his back far too many times to see that he was the only one who had been on the receiving end of an iron ninetail more than once during his years in the Imperial Army to know the damage they leave. “Healing is another story, but we should leave as soon as we are able so Tarja can take a look at her.”

“I don’t want to keep her here any longer than we need to.” Joshua put in an equal tone. They couldn't leave until Jote was well enough to travel, but they couldn’t stay here. “Has she said anything in regards to what happened?” 

Jill shook her head. “No, she’s been in and out of consciousness since we left the Archive.”

“She’ll talk to us when she’s ready. We have no right to interrogate her for something she is not at fault for.” Clive said.

“What of the Elders?” Jill asked, turning to Joshua.

“Taken care of. I’m disbanding the council.” Joshua replied. “Cyril and the remaining Undying will answer to me and Jote from now on.” 

“Why would they take things so far?” She ran a hand through her hair. “It's like you said, she committed no crime. All because she fell in love with you?”

“I told Cyril that I would be the one to take any punishment for her, because we both knew the risks of our relationship. Especially with her status as an apprentice to him. I also knew that he wouldn’t have been able to keep it hidden from the Council, that the Elders had rules to uphold and would try to enforce them. How far they were willing to go to prove as such, I did not know.” 

“The Elders meant to silence her, and use her as an example. Only the Founder would have known what they would have done if we didn't step in when we did…” Clive said. “For all we know, they could have paraded her around Tabor to remind the Knights of what could happen if they break their oaths."

“We stopped it before it could get worse. That's all that matters now.” Jill said quietly. 

“What you said about her losing an heir,” Clive started. There was a state of worry in his eyes. “She's not with child, is she?”

“Founder, no. She’s been taking contraceptive tonics for as long as I can remember. I feel more comfortable now that she chose to remain on them until she’s officially ready.” Joshua corrected. “Though, if Cyril questions it, we can spin that narrative to our advantage if we need to.”

“That’s likely for the best. At least until you go back to Rosalith.” Clive said.

“I agree.” Joshua nodded. “Can I see her?”

“Yes, just try to let her rest.” Jill said, stepping aside to let him in, leaving her alone with Clive. “We’ll be inside in a moment.”

Clive turned to her, wincing at Jote’s blood that covered her sleeves. “Are you alright?” He asked, wrapping his arms around her.

“Yes. I’m alright. We’re alright.” She answered, leaning into his embrace. “This was not how I was expecting this day to go.” She was expecting them to be on their way to Dhalimil, Joshua and Jote getting to share a wedding night together, Clive and Jill having a night of their own before going home.

“No, it was not what I had in mind either, but I also had a feeling this was going to happen. Jote knew that this would likely happen too, but chose to keep it to herself, probably to spare us to go through the trouble to fight for her.” He said quietly. “Honestly, if I was in her position, I would have done the same if it meant keeping you safe. Even if it meant destroying myself to do so. It's because of that I can see no one else worthy of my brother than her.” 

“She's earned that place at his side in more ways than one. If no one else sees that, they are a fool.” 

 

Garrett risked another visit in the hours before dawn to bring back Jote's clothes, washed and dried, and helped change her bandages before he had to report to his duties in the Archives. 

“Your kindness will not be forgotten, Garrett.” Joshua said, shaking his hand. 

“Of course, Your Grace. As I said as much to Lady Warrick yesterday, I had a debt to repay, and I couldn't let a friend go without a healer.” He replied with a bow. “Please take heart in knowing that there are still Knights and Acolytes that are still loyal to you, and do not agree with the Elders’ decision to strip Sister Jote of her status. We knew that she was either going to lead us as the Burning Quill or remain at your side.” 

“It's good to hear that there are people that we still can trust.” Joshua breathed.

“If you need nothing else from me, then I shall take my leave, Your Grace. I wish you all safe travels.” 

“Please, don't let us keep you.” He said as Garrett bowed again and left the apartment. 

Jill had taken the plush chair in the corner and had fallen asleep hours ago, his brother resting his head on her knee as Joshua returned to Jote’s side. He sat on the floor and weaved his fingers into her hand, brushing his thumb over the dark metal of the ring that he gave her years ago. He had made that for her after the events of Caer Norvent, with a small amount of the chain that he had tied to his belt and the shards of the crystal from his father’s last stolas. While it was to help the guise of them being a married couple while they were on their travels, but also as a promise ring that his heart was hers before she even realized it, for it was Jote who healed his soul from such a trauma and so much more. It broke his heart that she had been through so much in these last few years for the sake of protecting him. She never received a lash to the back during her torment while they were in Caer Norvent, so this was a new kind of hell.

Her fingers twitched as the morning sun had risen and gently squeezed Joshua’s hand after he had begun nod off. “Joshua…?” Jote murmured under her breath as she stirred. There was so much pain laced in her voice and it stabbed him in the chest.

“Shhhh, my darling… I'm here…” Joshua whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I'm here…”

“I want to go home…” She moaned softly. He brushed the fallen strands of hair away from her face with his free hand and wiped the stray tear from her eyes. “I don't want to stay here anymore…” She nearly sobbed.

“Okay…” Joshua replied. “We can go home…” A gentle knock at the door tore his attention from her, Clive jerking awake from the noise. “We can go home.” He repeated, pressing another kiss to her temple as he got up.

“Joshua…” Clive whispered as he stood, hand absently reaching for his sword.

“It's okay.” Joshua said quietly, opening the door to find Cyril. He turned to his brother. “I’ll be right back”

Clive nodded as Joshua stepped outside and closed the door behind him. “Garrett told me that you were here.” Cyril said.

“What is it that you need, Cyril?” Joshua asked. 

“Your Grace, I wish to give my apologies for what happened yesterday, and my lack of action to keep things from escalating the way that it did…” He said with a low bow. “I hope you could understand that my hands were tied, given the Elders’ involvement, that it was as much my punishment as it was hers.” 

“You let them beat her as if she was a Branded slave, Cyril!” Joshuia said with hushed fury, to not wake the other Undying that have not already risen for the day. “You lied to me. To her, to us, knowing that she trusted you, and you betrayed her. While I thank you for the apology, that alone cannot fix the damage in trust that I had, the trust that Jote had, in you. Surely, you do not think that she will forgive you after this. While I cannot speak for her, you failed her.” 

“I do not think I'm worthy of such forgiveness, which is why I wanted to apologize.” Cyril said. “If it pleases His Grace, I can resign from my position.”

“No. You will still hold the Burning Quill, however, I will not take being lied to lightly again. You will need to earn my trust again, and Jote’s.”

“A mercy that I am undeserving of, Your Grace.” Cyril dipped his head again. “Since I retain my position as the Bearer of the Burning Quill, I have released her as my apprentice. She will maintain her status as a Knight, and will be permitted to rule beside you, Your Grace. ” Joshua looked at the man before him, and there was genuine sadness in his eyes. Jote was a surrogate daughter to him and had saved her as a girl slated to be Branded before her fifth name day with his predecessor’s help, so he could not fully blame the part of him that tried to protect her in every way that he could, except for the moment when he didn't. “I also grant my blessing for your union and my apologies for not being the one to officiate it myself. I only pray that you will continue to treat her well.”

“I will.” Joshua said firmly. “She is my everything.” And I would burn the world if she’s hurt again. He thought.

The Bearer of the Burning Quill locked eyes with him and nodded once. “I'll see about bringing a healer to care for her and that spying eyes do not follow when you depart, Your Grace.”

“Thank you, Cyril.” Joshua replied before the Burning Quill bowed deeply and left into the dawning light without another word. 

Notes:

I want to thank you all for putting up with the pain. We have a light at the end of the tunnel.

Thank you all for the Kudos and comments so far!💕

Chapter 10

Notes:

Jote just wants go home. So home they shall go.

A shorter chapter. There is a light at the end of the tunnel.

It was three days before Jote could stay awake for longer than a couple hours at a time. In the moments where she was conscious, she would tell Clive, Joshua, and Jill bits and pieces of what happened before they stormed into the Archives. It was another day before she was able to find the strength to sit up, with the supervision of the healer. 

“You don’t need to push yourself, my darling.” Joshua murmured, as he helped her to her feet. The healer would be back at any moment to change Jote’s bandages and her temper rivaled Tarja’s.

“I want to go home.” She said in quiet frustration as her knees gave out from underneath her, Joshua catching her by the arms to keep her upright. “The sooner I'm on my feet, the sooner we can leave. I can’t stand another day with her.” 

“I know… I know…” He reassured, seeing the pain swirl with anger in her eyes. They would have been back to the Hideaway by now. If things truly didn’t fall apart. Jote swayed unevenly on her feet, and Joshua tightened his grip slightly to steady her. “Easy, I’ve got you.”

There was a knock on the door, and Jill walked in. “Jote–” She managed to say, surprised to see Jote on her feet, before the healer came in behind her.

“You stubborn girl, get back in bed at once!” The healer snapped, stepping between them to usher Jote back to the bed. “She is meant to be resting, Your Grace.”

“I know, but I would also like to take her home.” Joshua said firmly. “Where she can rest comfortably.”

The healer looked at him, and then at Jote and then back at him. “And have her walk through the desert with fresh lashings? That sounds like a wonderful idea.” The healer sneered sarcastically.

“I’ll stay with her, Joshua.” Jill said with a stiff smile, knowing that anything that else came from him would likely make matters worse. "Clive’s outside, and was asking for you.”

Jote saw the hesitation from Joshua. “It's okay…” 

He kissed her head before leaving her in the care of Jill and the healer. 

“Everything alright?” Clive asked as Joshua found him, reading his brother's face like an open book.

“Yeah, yeah. I think the healer is getting on Jote's nerves, and she wants to leave.”

“I don't blame her. Being bedridden for a few days while staying within a moment's walk from where she was flogged, and having a healer who won’t listen, I'm certain it's not a great feeling to have.” Clive said quietly, Joshua realizing that he had likely experienced a similar experience. “I'm going to get Ambrosia ready, and have Jote ride her on our journey back and stop in Dhalimil for the night.” He added. “Not that I don’t trust Jote to ride by herself, I’ll feel better if she rides with either one of us or Jill, especially since those wounds are fresh and she was still fighting to stay conscious with those tonics the healer’s been giving her. Even with the amount of lashes that she received, it's not going to be a comfortable ride by any means.”

“I agree. I’ll let Jill take the reins, since she’s with child.” Joshua was not going to argue, especially when Jote's well-being was in the balance. Or Jill's for that matter, now that her condition can no longer be easily hidden. “Shall I help you?”

Clive's responding nod was all he needed to follow his brother. 

 

It was midday by the time Ambrosia was ready and Jill and Jote joined them.

“Did the healer clear her?” Joshua asked.

“No,” Jill replied. “But Jote's miserable under her care, and I feel more comfortable getting her to Tarja. Other than that, I think we're all ready to leave.”

“Then let's get going before they find another excuse to keep us here.” Clive answered.

Jill climbed up onto her saddle, and Clive helped lift Jote up behind her and it killed Joshua to see her grimace at the movement before she wrapped her arms around Jill. 

“Are you going to be alright?” Joshua asked Jote, putting a hand on her knee. She looked so pale, and tired.

“I'll be alright, Your Grace.” She rasped using his title, far too aware of the Undying eyes that watched them prepare to leave. 

“If we need to stop for anything, give us a shout.” Clive said. He looked at Jill and kissed her hand. “For either of you.”

“We will.” Jill said.

The entire encounter weighed heavily on Jote’s mind, as she half consciously held onto Jill during their ride from Tabor. She knew that something was going to go wrong, though she had hoped she was able to confirm her marriage with Joshua before things went south. However, Jote knew that the Elders were notorious for dealing out their punishment quickly, brutally and efficiently and leaving no room for confessions either. She closed her eyes, leaning her head against Jill’s shoulder and let the pain sweep her to sleep, but it was Joshua and Clive’s shouting that was heard over the deafening ringing in her ears as the scene replayed in her dreams. 

 

Jote assessed her surroundings, and knew something was wrong. “Master Cyril–” She turned to the Burning Quill, as guards pressed in. She reached for her dagger and waited for them to attack. A flash of steel had her parry, and ducking away, and sending a slash across a red haired guard’s face before it took two additional men to seize her, forcing her to her knees before the Elders.

“Fucking bitch–” The bloodied man growled as he sent a boot into her stomach, a staggered cough leaving her as she curled in on herself as she tried to catch her breath. 

A dark haired guard slammed his own boot on her wrist and tore her dagger from her hand, not caring about the cry in pain she made before he grabbed a fistful of her hair and forced her to look at him. “You are a wild thing, aren't you. No wonder His Grace likes you in his bed.” He teased before she spit in his face, earning her a slap to her own.

“That is enough, Sir Kallias, Sir Isaiah.” Elder Maylor spoke firmly before turning his attention to her. “Sister Jote, you are in the presence of the Council today as it has come to the attention that you have broken your Oath as a Knight of the Undying. Do you deny these claims?” 

“I have broken no oath.” She gritted out. “My oath was to serve as a Knight of the Undying, to stay at the Archduke’s side. I have done my duty to protect him.”

“Then you would be aware of His Grace’s request for your hand in marriage, yes?”

“Yes.” Jote held her head up high.

“You swore an oath that you would serve the Phoenix from the shadows. Undying Knights are forbidden to marry, forbidden to have children, and yet, you have convinced the Archduke to ask for your hand.” Elder Enzo added. 

“It took no convincing on my part, Elder Enzo.” She replied. “The Archduke loves me as I love him, Phoenix or no. Agreeing to marry him does not break my oath as his Knight.”

“You hold no land, no titles, no prospects; nothing that would consider you a bride for the Phoenix.” Elder Erina spat at her.

“As an apprentice to the Burning Quill, these laws apply to you tenfold, and it appears Master Cyril has also been far too lenient to have allowed this to continue.” Elder Hilda continued. “Had you not been his apprentice, things may have been different, your punishment would not be so severe.”

“Elders, please–”

“You too will be punished for your negligence, Cyril, and will watch the sentencing be carried out.” To watch her be stripped of everything, and humiliated. They didn’t even need to say it to him.

“Joshua cares not what little I have to give him–” 

“Such informalities, girl. You hold no right to use his given name. You are permitted to speak his title only.” Hilda said with such disdain. 

“I hope he gives you hell when he finds out that you have been holding council without him in attendance, as that is in violation of your oaths as well.” Jote snapped back.

“Watch your mouth, Sister Jote.” Elder Maylor growled. “In light of this, you are hereby stripped of your status as Knight, and you will be sent back to the Archives. You will also receive lashes for your insolence. Elder Enzo, if you will.”

An iron tipped, nine tailed whip clanked against the hard floor as the second male stepped forward and Jote stiffened, the guards’ grip tightened as she fought against them as Elder Erina undid each button of Jote's overcoat and shirt to expose her back, letting them hang off of her belt at her waist. “No–” Jote breathed, utter terror in her voice. “Joshua–” She shouted before the woman backhanded her hard across the face.

“You will remain silent, child.” Elder Erina glared at her. “Or it will be your tongue next.” 

She barely heard the door open over the whip and felt the ninetails tear into her back.

“Jote–” 

 

Jote jolted awake, Jill’s hand went to her leg in comfort and to make sure that she didn’t fall off the Lord Marquess’ white chocobo.

“You’re okay… You’re okay…” Jill murmured.

Jote lifted her heavy head and saw Joshua and Clive with Torgal between them walking before them, Joshua looking back at her for a moment before she drifted off again.  

Notes:

I think owe you guys (as well as Joshua and Jote) a wedding for bearing with the pain that happened these last few chapters.

Thank you again for bearing with me as our pain train comes to a end.

Chapter 11

Notes:

The road to recovery is a long one, and so is the journey home.

This is a bit of a longer chapter, but this concludes the pain train.

Jote felt like she was going to be sick by the time they approached Dhalimil. The healer had given her a tonic before they left, and it tasted wrong, as if the ratio between pain relievers and sleep inducers were off or too potent. As if she was not paying attention when making it in haste. Her own tonics never made her or Joshua feel this way afterwards and she couldn't stop the wave of nausea and the headache that hit her like none other. As the world began to spin around her, she wondered if the other tonics she had received had been like this. 

“Jill…” Jote murmured, weakly squeezing her friend's hand. “We need to stop…” 

“We're almost there. Do you think you can make it?” Jill said quietly. 

“No…” She breathed.

“Okay, just hang on.” Jill said, squeezing Jote's clammy hand back in answer. “Clive! Joshua!” 

“What is it?” Clive asked, immediately grabbing the reins of Ambrosia to stop her and Joshua was instantly at their side, Jote already reaching for him.

“I think Jote's going to be sick.” Jill warned. 

Not a moment after Joshua got her off of the white chocobo, Jote fell to her knees and retched, emptying the contents of her stomach on the side of the desert road. Joshua knelt beside her, trying to keep her hair off her face. She barely heard Joshua over the ringing in her ears, telling them to go on ahead and that they would follow, but his brother was hearing none of it and that they would stay.

“Just breathe, my darling, breathe.” Joshua murmured as she slowly sat back. “Do you feel better?”

“A little… Just got really nauseous all of a sudden…” Jote wiped her mouth with her sleeve. 

“You’re burning up…” He pressed a hand to her face, and greeted warmth, different from a day out in the desert heat.  “Do you think you can get back on Ambrosia?” He asked, and she shook her head. “Do you think you can stand?” 

“I think so, now that the world has stopped spinning…” Jote managed as Joshua got her to her feet. 

“Put your arms around my shoulders, I’ll carry you the rest of the way. Just let me know if we need to stop again, alright?”

She did as she was told, and Joshua slid his arms around her knees to settle her on his back. Still feeling the effects of the horrid tonic, she focused on her hold on Joshua, the scent of him as she tried to take deep breaths, the rest of the journey a blur.

 

Jote found herself in the bathing room of their suite at the inn as she tried to prepare herself for a bath that Jill had started for her. Clive, luckily, had herbs in a chest that Tarja had gifted him months ago with Ambrosia that Jote was able to help him and Jill determine what would help ease the pain and would help heal her wounds until she could see the talented physicker herself. After that, Joshua and his brother took care of everything else to ensure that they had a room and board, and a bathing chamber as well, while Jill and Joshua followed Jote’s instructions on how to muddle the herbs together to put in the water while it was heating up, and how to correctly prepare the pain tonic for tonight to allow her to sleep while she tried to change out of her clothes. 

“Jote…?” Joshua said quietly from the door with a gentle knock and she looked up in the mirror to see him. They were never by themselves these last few nights when she was awake, so it was the first time where Joshua stood alone, for her. There was hurt in his azure stare in the reflection and it reminded her of the many nights he would wake from his sleep, from the aches from the curse, Ultima’s crystalline prison, and his illnesses, but then she saw herself, the purple and black bruises that graced her cheek and in various other places on her skin, and immediately looked away. Jote hissed at the splotches of red on her shirt that seeped through her bandages, as she gingerly took it off and continued to try to unwrap the bandages that covered her torso with shaking hands, wincing at the sharp twinges that would flare up her already overstimulated body.

“Let me help you, my darling…” He murmured as she heard his steps approach, his fingers gracing hers as he took over. Jote didn't need to see her back as she watched Joshua's face grimacing at the damage as he peeled the bandages away to know that he undoubtedly blamed himself for each and every lash that she received, probably just as much as she blamed herself.

“Joshua…” Jote whispered, trying to read his emotions in the mirror.

“I should have gone in with you and stopped them…” She heard him rasp into her hair. “Founder, Jote—” He began before he turned her around and cradled her face in his hands. “Jote…” He said again as he pressed his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

“Joshua—” Jote managed, her hands meeting his, tears streaming down her face. “I’m the one who should—”

“This is not your fault.” His voice was gentle but she could hear the shake of anger that he still retained. “By the Founder, you cannot take the blame for this. Don't you dare, Jote…” He added, and there was no hiding the quiver then. “The fault is mine, and mine alone. I thought going to the Undying would release you to me without incident, and I have never been more wrong. I should have remained at your side, I should have stopped them, I should have been the one to take the lash, not you…”

“You know that they would not have let that happen… We both know that—” Jote said as she fought to breathe as the anxiety started to crawl up her throat, her heart slamming in her chest. He brushed the tears away, kissed her forehead and pulled her as close as he could without hurting her to help calm her down, seeing the wave of panic in her eyes. He pressed a kiss to her temple, and did not let go.

“Shhh, Jote…” Joshua soothed. “I promise you now, I'm not going to let anyone raise a hand against you again.” He whispered, his own tears lining his eyes. “Until my dying breath, it will be me who will protect you now.” She didn’t need him to say that he would make the world burn for her to believe him because he had already done so once before. “If I had known that you would be hurt by going to Tabor, I would have had Clive marry us back at the Hideaway.”

“Would you still be willing to ask your brother if he would marry us…?” Jote murmured after she was able to catch her breath.

“Of course.” Joshua said into her hair. “Of course, my darling. Unless you would rather wait until we return home.” 

Jote shook her head. “I don't want to wait anymore…” 

“If you are well enough to do so, then we can do that.” He looked down and saw her nod into his shirt. He pulled away and collected himself. “Come now, I've kept you from your bath long enough.” 

“Stay?” Jote asked him. “Please…”

“As long as you need me, I'm with you.” Joshua pressed his lips to her forehead again, smoothing a hand over her hair. “And every moment after.”

 

“How's Jote this morning?” Jill asked Joshua after he joined her and his brother for a late breakfast two days later. “I’m sure she feels better to be away from that healer.” Jill said into her tea. Jote had explained to them how her last tonic given to her from the healer was likely what made her sick, and they had wasted no time at all to rid any of the tonics that Jill had brought with them in case. 

“She already mentioned that just being out of Tabor all together has helped greatly.” Joshua replied. Especially now that she wasn’t getting poisoned from overdosing on unbalanced tonics. “Now if we can get her fever to break, I would feel more comfortable.

“I already paid to stay another night so there’s no rush to leave. I'm not going to force my sister in law to rise from her sickbed to journey through the Velkroy in the late summer heat.” Clive said in response.

“Thank you, Clive.” Joshua smiled. “That being said, I have a question for you.”

“Of course.” He replied. 

Joshua fidgeted for a moment before he spoke. “I was wondering if you could marry Jote and I? If she’s well enough?”

“You—” His brother began. He was likely not expecting that to be asked. Clive looked at Jill and she took his hand before he turned his attention back to Joshua. “Are you sure?”

“I was hoping that Cyril would have officiated it, but since things didn’t go as planned, he believes that we are already married based on what we told him and the Elders, so I can't exactly have him do that now.” Joshua said. He told Clive that the Burning Quill had given him his blessing, but Clive had begun that lie of Jote already being married to him and Joshua was grateful that he went along with it to step up and protect her when he could not. “I know the Rosarian Marriage Rites. I could teach them to you.”

“I- I would be honored, Joshua.” Clive stammered. “Anything for my brother.” 

Joshua chuckled. “I'll be happy to perform the Northern Rites for you and Jill in exchange, if you still planned to wait until we returned to Rosalith.” 

Jill squeezed his brother's hand. “We would love that.” She answered. “Can we assume that you'll be taking up the throne sooner than anticipated with the incident in Tabor?”

Joshua nodded. He didn't want to go back for a while, but after what happened, he had a fire within that could not be contained. “Yes. The Undying and The Seven High Houses can't stop me. Can't stop us.”

“If they were smart, any of those Houses who had any alliance with Mother would stand down. Marry Jote before they throw their daughters at you to further the bloodline.” Clive said darkly. “Times are changing anyway, Joshua. We can finish what Father began, and then start anew. If you still plan to have me as your First Shield, then we have work to be done.” 

“That’s the plan, Lord Commander.” Joshua replied, smirking to match his brother's upon hearing that title. 

“Lord Commander, is it? Anything else that you plan to make official, Your Grace?” Clive teased.

“That remains to be seen.” Joshua snickered as the broth for Jote was set on the table. “If you'll forgive me, I'll leave you two to finish breaking your fast.”

“We’ll check on you two in a bit, alright? I’m sure you and Clive can scout a place for you to get married that’s not a room at the inn.” Jill said.

“Thank you both.” Joshua replied. Her attentiveness to Jote's care is a debt that he would never be able to repay. For both Clive and Jill to open their arms to welcome her to their family without hesitation, he couldn't be more thankful.  

“Of course.” His brother said with a smile as Joshua got up and nodded before ascending to the room he shared with Jote. He set the bowl of broth down on the table and sat on the bed beside her, careful not to disturb her. He brushed her short locks away from her face and smoothed his thumb gently across her bruised cheek. She leaned into his touch slightly as she stirred. She murmured softly, her hum lulled by sleep. 

“I'm sorry, Jote...” Joshua whispered as her eyes fluttered open. “I didn't mean to wake you… .” Her hand drifted to meet his and a pained smile spread on her lips. “How do you feel today?” He asked her, pressing her fingers to his lips.

“Everything still hurts… But better than what I have been the days before…” Jote winced as she shifted to try to sit up.

“Easy…” Joshua warned her as he kissed her temple. He eased off the bed to help her sit up and gently set her against the headboard. He pressed a hand to her forehead. Her fever was breaking, if the sweat on her brow was any inclination, thank the Founder. Even with the bruises along her face, she no longer held the pallid complexion from the last few nights. “You’re looking better than yesterday at any rate.”

“When are we leaving?” Jote asked after he tucked a pillow behind her.

“Clive paid for another night, so we can take our time.” He answered. “You must be hungry… You didn’t eat last night.”

Jote looked at him and nodded, reaching gingerly at the broth that Joshua had in his hands. “Thank you, my beloved.” She muttered as she sipped at the bowl. “Did you sleep alright?”

“I managed to get some rest, but you’ve had a rough few nights already.” Joshua said quietly, brushing his hand on her cheek again. “However, it seems the worst of it has passed for now.” He waited for Jote to finish her broth before handing her the tonic that she helped him and Jill make to help dull her pain before taking her hand. “If you feel well enough, how would you like to get married?” Joshua asked with a gentle smile, taking her hand. 

“Your brother agreed?” Light came to Jote's eyes for the first time since Boklad.

“Yes.” He replied as he squeezed her hand. “We could be married before the night is out, if you wanted.”

“I like the sound of that.” Jote smiled as she leaned to kiss him. She pulled away to look for one of the bags that hung on her belt until she found the one that would be at her back that would have held Joshua's medicines that would have been accompanied with her dagger on the table. “Can you hand me my bag?” She asked, and Joshua retrieved it without hesitation. 

Her scabbard for her dagger was missing, the blade had gone missing after that guard ripped it from her hand but she assumed that in her delirium, they must have removed it, she didn't see if Joshua or his brother collected it. Part of her mourned that she would never see that dagger again, gifted to her from Cyril when she became a Knight of the Undying, when she proved herself worthy to be the Archduke’s attendant, surpassing even their trained assassins in combat, but the other part was almost glad to be rid of it. She shook the sadness away when she located the item that she was looking for and handed the small velvet bag to Joshua. “For you, my beloved.” She said with a small smile.

“For me?” He asked as he opened it and pulled the dark silver wedding band that matched the ring he gave her years ago, a phoenix feather engraved in the cool metal. “Jote… when did you get this?” 

“I had it made before you left for Origin. I wanted to give it to you then, as a token of favor and gratitude, but…” She began. Joshua didn't need her to finish her sentence. He had snapped at her then, the weight of Ultima's prison draining whatever strength he had left, the fiend’s whisper in his head telling him the lies that he found too easy to believe, resulting in an argument that drove them apart. “You gave me my wedding ring before I even knew that it would be. I figured I would give you yours…” She added quietly as Joshua slid it onto his finger.

“Thank you, my darling.” Joshua whispered as he caressed her cheek and leaned in for another kiss

Notes:

I promised a wedding, and a wedding you all shall have next chapter🎉

Thank you again for the comments and the kudos and for coming on this journey so far.☺️💕

Chapter 12

Notes:

In which more than wedding vows are exchanged.

 

***A content warning for those who may be sensitive to the mention of cuts along the wrist. This is common in Gaelic blood oaths and vows.

If you have seen Outlander, specifically Claire and Jamie's wedding, you'll know what I'm talking about.

Joshua and his brother found a small quiet oasis under the palm trees near the crystal blue river of the Southern Velkroy while they were going over the Rosarian Marriage Rites. With the sun beginning to set the following night, the water glowed as it brushed along the sand on the shore. A feat that Joshua didn’t think possible with the absence of aether. 

“What did you plan to use for the knot?” Clive asked. 

“Oh.” Joshua smoothed his hands over his scarf and tunic until coming across the chain at his belt. “How about this?” He said, pulling his scarf off and handing it to him. He mainly wore the scarf out of habit now, especially since he primarily wore it to hide the crystalline prison.

“It’ll work.” He replied, taking note of everything else that his brother had tied to him. “Was this Father’s?” Clive looked up at Joshua, recognizing the silver chain that hung from his belt nearly hidden by his sword. They were off destroying Mothercrystals, and defeating Ultima that he didn’t take much notice of it when they reunited in the ruins of the Twinside. “I thought this was one of the pieces that got lost in the raid from the Ironblood.”

“Yes.” He answered as he untied the chain from his belt and handed it to his brother, its blue crystalline stones shining in the fading light. “It was still on his body when the Undying found me. So when I woke up after Phoenix Gate, I kept it.” 

“As you should have.” Clive smiled sadly as he inspected it. It was one of the things that he remembered Elwin keeping on him from his own Crowning Ceremony, and it was surprisingly in good condition, even with everything it has gone through these last twenty years.

“Did you want it?” Joshua asked him, and Clive looked at him, knowing he was serious in asking. 

“No. It’s yours by right in more ways than one, Joshua. Keep it.” He replied, handing it back to him. “That way, Father stays with you.” 

“Thank you, Clive.” He said as he tied it back to his belt. “If only he were here to see this…”

“He is. I already know it.” Clive smiled brighter at Joshua, seeing his little brother fidget beside him. “You're nervous, aren't you?”

“Me? Nervous?” Joshua stammered, shifting his gaze to Clive, knowing his brother can see right through him. “Alright, maybe I'm a little nervous.” 

“I feel like if anyone should be nervous, it should be me.” Clive said. “I’m the one marrying you two.”

“You’ll be fine, Clive.” Joshua chuckled. “Truly.”

“If you say so.” Clive mirrored his brother’s smile. 

“Where are they? Jill made it sound like they were right behind us.”

“Jill said that she and Jote would join us anon. She wanted to make sure that Jote was dressed for the occasion.” He looked out towards the bridge that led into town, and saw two figures with a wolf beside them. “See?” He gestured in their direction, before whistling to catch Torgal’s attention.

 

Joshua looked up, and his heart skipped a beat as Torgal bounded over the sand dune, and then he saw Jill arm in arm with Jote. Jill had weaved a crown of desert flowers into Jote’s short brown hair, and found her a beautifully embroidered tunic with gold and crimson threading that brought out the flecks of amber in her coffee colored eyes. Jill gave Jote a hug before giving her to Joshua, and then stepping beside Clive.

“Hello.” Jote whispered as she looked at him, a small smile on her face.

“Hi.” He breathed with a smile of his own. “You look beautiful.” He said without another beat. Not even the bruises on her face could ruin that. 

“Thank you.” She replied, blush creeping up her cheeks. 

“You ready?” Joshua asked her, squeezing her hands, and she nodded. He kissed her knuckles before looking at his brother, who shifted on his feet and cleared his throat. 

“We have gathered here for the marriage of two people, Jote Rivaille, and Joshua Rosfield.” Clive began as he pulled out his dagger and took hold of Joshua’s left wrist and made a shallow cut just beneath where his hand ended, waiting for blood to well before doing the same with Jote’s and then pressing them together, putting Joshua’s scarf over their joined hands. “Jote, do you take Joshua to be your husband? Do you promise to honor, love, and cherish him, to walk by his side in times of joy and sorrow, in laughter and tears, as you both face all that life brings together, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I, Jote Rivaille, take thee, Joshua Rosfield, to be my husband.” Jote began her vows as she took one side of the scarf and wrapped it around their hands. “As our hands are bound together, so too are our lives. I promise to honor, love, and cherish you, to walk by your side in times of joy and sorrow, in laughter and tears, as we face all that life brings together. With this vow, I bind my heart to yours, my soul to yours, my life to yours. For as long as we both shall live.”

“Joshua, do you take Jote to be your wife?” Clive asked as he now directed his attention to his brother. “Do you promise to honor, love, and cherish her, to walk by her side in times of joy and sorrow, in laughter and tears, as you both face all that life brings together, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I, Joshua Rosfield, take thee, Jote Rivaille, to be my wife.” Joshua said his vows as he took the remaining side of the scarf and wrapped it around their hands. “As our hands are bound together, so too are our lives. I promise to honor, love, and cherish you, to walk by your side in times of joy and sorrow, in laughter and tears, as we face all that life brings together. With this vow, I bind my heart to yours, my soul to yours, my life to yours. For as long as we both shall live.”

Clive took both remaining sides, tied them together and placed a hand over theirs. “May this knot remain tied for as long as your love shall last, and may the vows you have spoken never grow bitter in your hearts. Hold tight to one another through good times and bad and watch as your strength grows. In the joining of hands and the fashion of a knot, so are your lives now bound, one to another.” He finished with a smile. “Joshua, you may kiss your bride.” 

Joshua pulled Jote close and pressed a kiss to her lips, a soft laugh leaving him as he pulled back and saw tears streaming down her face. “My darling…” He whispered as he put his forehead to hers. 

“My beloved…” She said as she kissed him again. 

 

Clive waited for them to release their hands from their bindings, before he pulled out Jote’s dagger, sheathed in her scabbard, expertly sharpened, cleaned and polished, and held it out before them. “Your Grace.” He said with a dip of his head to address Jote. “I believe this belongs to you, my lady.”

“I…” Jote’s voice was quiet. Joshua wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist as she reached for her dagger with shaking hands. “I… Thank you, my lord…”

“My lady, I see no one else who is worthy of my brother’s hand than you, and what happened at Tabor does not change that. I have already given my oaths to Joshua, however,” Clive began as he drew his sword, knelt and drove it into the sand before him. “I voluntarily swear that I, Clive Rosfield, Lord Commander, and First Shield of the Archduke of Rosaria, Joshua Rosfield, from this day forth, shall serve you faithful and true and without deception. To defend you from all malefactors and enemies, and never through will or action, through word or deed, will I do anything to harm you. Should you find that I have failed to uphold this oath to you, you may use that dagger to end my life.” He said as he looked up at her, at Joshua, who did not expect the vow of protection. 

Jote opened her mouth to speak when Jill drew her blade, and mirrored her fiance, kneeling before them. “I, Jill Warrick, through my betrothal to Clive Rosfield, swear that too, from this day forth, shall serve you both faithful, and true, and without deception. To defend you from all malefactors and enemies, and never through will or action, through word or deed, will I do anything to harm you.” She said clearly, lowering her head. “If I should fail you, then I am at your mercy.”

“With these oaths, we accept your loyalty and protection. You may rise.” Joshua said firmly, and Clive and Jill rose to their feet. 

“Thank you, for everything Clive, Jill.” Jote said, with a dip of her head, and then moved to embrace them, not caring about the flare of pain in her back. “Thank you.” 

“Welcome to the family, Jote.” Clive replied with a smile.

Notes:

One Rosfield brother is finally married! The other will be very soon, I promise!! 🎉

This also one of my last cleaned up chapters of my backlog, because I have no self control of my postings.😂 That being said, you may see a lull in chapters, but don't worry, this story is far from over!

Thank you again for all the comments and kudos, they mean the world.💕

Chapter 13

Notes:

Finally back at home, and they finally find some much needed rest. Joshua comes to Clive with an idea.

Tarja’s congratulations were short lived when they returned to the Hideaway, and the physicker saw the healing bruises on her friend’s face, and noted Jote’s wince as they embraced. “What. Happened?” Her voice cut through the infirmary like a knife. Joshua opened his mouth to speak, and she raised a hand to him to silence him. “No, I want to hear it from her, Your Grace. What happened?” She said firmly, turning her attention back to Jote.

“Ninetails. Iron-tipped.” Jote’s voice was quiet but clear. “The Council of Elders would have rather seen me stripped of my status and beaten for my actions, rather than see me married to my beloved.” She turned around to see Tarja turn to Joshua to reprimand him. “Without him, this would have been much worse. Without either of them, I would likely still be in Tabor, strung up for all to see.”

Tarja let out a sigh as she examined her friend’s back. “Well, I’d say you had some luck on your side. Not many who face the receiving end of a ninetales can say that. Whoever laid in these stitches knew what they were doing, and the bleeding has stopped, but it’s going to take some time to heal since you didn’t stay in bed to heal longer.” 

“We had help from a friend that did what he could before we eventually received help from a healer.” Joshua said. “I gave her the benefit of the doubt, but she did not give Jote the care, or time of day for that matter, that she needed.”

“It wasn’t until we left when we realized that she was poisoning me with unbalanced tonics, that did not react well with the desert heat.” Jote continued, Tarja turning a shade of red from her silent fury. “I had received better care from them with the chest of herbs and salves that you gifted Clive, than my days with the healer.”

“Considering the depth of some of these lashes, you should have received the utmost care. Such negligence can be as deadly as any wound or fever. I don’t even want to know how much blood you lost.” She said darkly, hands going to her hips. Upon seeing the look on Joshua’s face, that was the answer Tarja needed. Too much, too fast, and if she got more than the lashes that she did receive, or had stayed in Tabor, forced to take tonic after tonic, she may not be here.

“That’s why we took matters into our own hands and got out of there after four days.” He nearly growled. 

“Since they’re over a week old, I’m not going to wrap your back, since we want them to breathe a bit. If they start to bleed again, you are to come back here. Understood?”

“Understood.” Jote nodded as she pulled her tunic back on. “When will I be cleared to come back to assist in the infirmary, or sparring?”

Tarja looked at her friend. “I would strongly advise against sparring, or any illicit activities until I say so, Your Grace.” She answered Jote with a smile. “ With that said, take caution. While I know you have marital duties to uphold, your health is more important than an heir.” She added. “As for the infirmary, you are a patient, not an attendant for the time being. I want you to rest, and take it easy, and then when I am satisfied with your healing, then I will clear you to return to your usual duties.”

“Thank you, Lady Tarja.” Joshua replied.

“Of course.” Tarja added as the two women embraced. “See to it that he takes care of you once in a while.”

Jote stifled a giggle. “I will.” She said as they pulled away, giving Tarja a small wave before Joshua bid her afternoon, and they left the infirmary. 

 

When they reached their rooms, Joshua wrapped his arms around Jote. “It feels so good to be home.” He murmured as he smoothed his hands along her waist.

“I couldn’t agree more.” Jote murmured at his lips, grabbing the collar of her husband’s shirt to pull him closer to kiss him. “Draw me a bath, before you go to the stacks?” She knew that Joshua wanted to pick Harpocrates’ mind about a few things that came to mind on their way home from Dhalimil.  

“That I can do, my darling.” Joshua smiled as he kissed Jote’s forehead, and withdrew to do his wife’s bidding. Jote watched him prepare her bath, smiling softly as he helped her get  settled in the warm water that seemed to ease the pain away. “I’ll be back before supper alright?” 

“Take your time. I’ll be here.” She replied as Joshua gave her one more kiss on the hand, before retreating to the stacks. She heard the door shut, and she closed her eyes in an attempt to relax. She took a deep breath and it wasn't long until her mind couldn't shut up.

Once Joshua took up the throne, it wasn't the Undying now that worried her, but the Seven High Houses. They would likely demand an heir, and would likely try to convince her husband that she was not worthy to be his wife, the mother of his children given her common blood. She was raised with the notion that she couldn’t have children with her upbringing with the Undying, so thought of having them terrified her, but at the same time, she felt worried about how she would be when that day came. She worried that she wouldn’t be a good mother. She had heard stories about what Joshua’s mother did to both him and his brother. Despite her husband making it very clear that he held no expectation of when a child would come, only that when she was ready, not pressured by others, it didn’t make the thoughts stop.  

She barely even remembered her own mother, who gave her up once she found out she was a Bearer of a magic that she rarely used, but she remembered images of beatings, faceless people who surrounded her like wolves before her life with Undying. She barely remembered being given a surname that most children shared when brought into their life of service of the Phoenix, and then given two choices. Study or Fight. Choices from that day on, the majority of them had been made for her before she reached her tenth nameday. Choices that she was now free to make, and the ability felt so foreign as it did familiar. 

The sudden realization that the bath had grown cold as she ducked her head beneath the surface forced her to get out of the bath and try to get the thoughts to stop another way. Joshua's familiar scent filled her senses as she collapsed onto their bed and looked up at the ceiling as she took another deep breath, contemplating if she should rest, or make the effort to get up and meet her family for dinner. She shifted to get comfortable, and spotted Joshua’s journal on the bedside table. The tome usually didn’t leave her husband’s side, and especially when he would go to the stacks. When curiosity did in fact get the better of her, she picked it, and began to flip through the pages. 

From the first page, she found countless entries and sketches of their travels, of the Eikons and their Dominants, of the Fallen, the Mothercrystals; recording everything as any expert scholar would have done. Journal entries of what happened before and after taking Ultima in his crystalline prison; the increasing attempts of possession that Joshua had struggled to keep himself from surrendering to, keep himself from hurting her, himself, or anyone else while she slept, suffering unspoken pain for not letting Ultima in. She reached pages of his brother, Jill, of Torgal, of Dion and his White Knight. Hastily written notes of his nightmares that would progressively get worse as time passed. She smiled softly at a sketch of her fast asleep beside a campfire, between notes of enemies and monsters that they faced during their journey across Valisthea, another page filled with entries about her on how much he loved her but didn’t have the heart to speak it aloud, should she not share the feeling. Regret for pushing her away, and the commitment he made for himself to regain her trust. The relief of her agreement to marry him. His frustrations of what the Elders did to her.

She finally found peace as she continued to read her husband’s writings until her eyes grew heavy, his journal falling open on the bed beside her, the most recent journal entry read from a few days ago, ‘I married the love of my life today’.

 

Joshua had met with Harpocrates in the stacks, with Rosaria in mind. However, when he turned the page of one of the books the loresman recommended on the subject, he found a story waiting to be told instead. When he got to the foot of the stairs leading to Clive's solar to describe the tale he wanted to tell, only then did Joshua realize that he had left his journal behind.

He found the room quiet, his wife curled up in bed in one of his shirts. He snuck to his desk and picked up the tome of Moss the Chronicler, and was almost perplexed as his journal was not where he left it. He searched the desk, their half unpacked bag, their bedside tables until he found it opened on the bed, beside Jote’s sleeping form. 

When he was younger, he hated the thought of someone reading his journals, but he didn’t have that feeling anymore when finding his wife with it. She had his heart, his soul, and had every right to read it; leaving no secrets between them. He smiled at Jote, and slowly eased the book from her fingertips, pressing a kiss to her temple before leaving the room to let her rest. 

 

Clive opened his door after three knocks, hair disheveled, as if he was interrupted from something, but he was decently dressed, so he probably arrived at the right time. “Should I be glad I knocked?” Joshua asked.

“Had you appeared an hour sooner, I may not have answered at all.” His brother responded with a smirk as he let him in. Jill appeared to take the afternoon to rest from their few days of travel, her back to the door as she laid in the bed. Torgal snuck in behind him from his trip to Charon’s, giving both Clive and Joshua a nudge to their hands with his nose before he curled up beside her with his head resting over her middle. “What can I do for you, Joshua?” 

“I want to write a story.” Joshua began. 

When his brother realized that he was serious about writing a tale of Valisthea, of the life they have lived to bring down Ultima, Clive was already grabbing parchment to begin. 

“How do we want to do this, Joshua?” Clive inquired, Harpocrates’ stolas pen in hand.

“Should we start from the beginning or the end?” Joshua asked when he sat that desk across from Clive.

“Why not the very beginning?” Clive answered with a smirk.

“Then let's get started.”

Notes:

"And thus does our journey begin"

Joshua may be the author of the story, but I would like to believe that both brothers had contributed to the tale of 'Final Fantasy'.

Chapter 14

Notes:

The Journey to Rosalith Castle begins.

The summer heat had finally relented to autumn and the early hours of the day had started to beg for the coming of winter, making the decks of The Invincible covered in frost, but it did not stop Clive and Jote from sparring in the training ring as the sun rose above the mountains’ shadow. They had worked up a sweat, both shucking off their outer layers, their heavy breaths clouding in the cold morning air before them. What they did not count on, was the audience that not even the chill could keep away.

Joshua leaned against the railing of the bailey, the sight reminding him of the days of his childhood where he would sneak away to watch Clive train back in Rosalith, with Lord Commander Murdoch. He knew better than to tell his wife that she didn’t need to spar, and Clive had happily obliged his sister in law’s request that they spar with no holds barred, his brother grateful for the distraction that Jote presented him with to keep his mind elsewhere while Jill was on bedrest. Jill had been rushed to the infirmary and spent the last few nights for Tarja to keep an eye on her as she was bleeding far too much that a woman in her condition should, and with her due in a couple months, it could not be anything good. 

“Don’t they know that they don’t have to go so hard on each other?” Gav had asked Joshua under his breath. “I know Jote’s a skilled fighter, but Clive’s twice her size.”

“Clive knows that Jote would never forgive him if he pulls any punches.” Joshua replied. He knew his brother would stop once she showed signs of injury and they continued. She had been honing her skills since Tabor, wanting to get stronger. “She was trained to fight men larger and quicker than her, with little to no mercy. It’s my brother who should be careful.” He added, resulting in a chuckle from Gav.

“So this is where my Clive disappeared to.” Jill said with a smile, Torgal at her side as she pulled her shawl closer around herself, and leaned against the fence. “Hopefully, they’re not pushing each other too hard.” She murmured, resting a hand on her stomach.

“Surprisingly no, but Jote did get a few good hits on him though.” Joshua said as Clive sent Jote stumbling forward with a kick to the back, and there was an audible wince from the crowd. “He’s going to pay for that one.” He grimaced.

“He’ll deserve it.” Jill replied.  “They’re going to hate themselves when we leave for the Rest later.” 

“Perhaps, but maybe that’s what they're hoping for.” He said, as he breathed warm air into his chilled hands. “How are you feeling?” He asked quietly to not be overheard. “You gave us quite a scare the other day.” He had never seen Clive with the look of utter terror that appeared on his face when Jote rushed in with the news, and he left to be at Jill's side, fearing the worst.

“Tarja said I'm going to be okay.” Jill said in equal quiet, with a small smile. “The babies too.” 

“That’s good to hear. My niece or nephew are already causing trouble and they’re not even born yet.” Jill smirked at him at his words, Joshua not at all realizing what she just said. “What is it?”

“We're expecting twins, Joshua.”

“Twins? You’re having twins?” Joshua managed in shock, Jill smiling at seeing him grow flustered. “Does Clive know?”

“Yes, he was there when Tarja told me. His face matched yours right now. I thought he was going to faint.” Jill giggled. “Jote suspected it weeks ago, and Tarja confirmed it for me the other night when they moved. Clive wanted to tell you last night at dinner, but I wanted to tell you myself.”

“Founder, Jill.” Joshua breathed as they embraced. “Congratulations.” 

The sound of a grunt and cheer from the crowd had them turn their attention back to the ring, and found Jote and Clive smiling with blood dribbling from his nose, Jote looking like she had landed a punch across his face. “Sounds like he paid for that kick to the back.” Jill snickered.

“It looks like he did too.” Joshua smirked as his brother spat the blood from his mouth onto the ground and held up a hand.

“I yield, Lady Jote.” Clive said with a huff.

“We’ll consider it a draw, Lord Marquess.” Jote replied, as she took his hand and shook it. “Thank you for sparring with me, and for not holding back.” She added, unwrapping her hands and wrists from the cloth that she wrapped around them.

“You’re Very Welcome.” He said, as he sniffed to clear the blood that still flowed, and rolled his shoulders. “From what you’ve shown me, the Undying trained you well.” 

“It was either fight, or remain in the Archives. I wanted to stay at Joshua’s side, so I chose to fight.” Jote said as they walked to the edge of the ring, Gav telling the Cursebreakers and other onlookers to disperse from the bailey. “I was trained by our assassins for years until I surpassed their skill with a blade. Once that happened, I was seventeen, and granted my knighthood.” 

“They trained you thoroughly. I'm glad to see that you still have that edge after months of rest.” Clive handed his sister her coat. To see that the incident in Tabor didn’t break her spirit, especially after learning that the guards that were present that day were not of the Undying themselves.

“Same can be said for you, Clive.” She countered. “I hope we can spar again when we return to Rosalith.”

“It would be my honor.” He replied as he gestured for her to take the lead to leave the bailey. “I told Joshua that Sir Wade may want a spar as well before you’re officially crowned as Archduchess.”

“I’m certain that can be arranged.” Jote smiled. “He is going to meet us with your Uncle at Martha’s Rest this afternoon, correct?”

“Only Byron will meet us this afternoon,” Clive corrected. “And then he, Wade and as many Guardians of the Flame that he can manage are going to accompany us to Rosalith Castle once we decide which route to take.” He added as he opened the gate and let her pass for her to go into Joshua’s waiting embrace. 

“Of course.” His sister in law answered. It was either go through Audhyll and over the bridge or through Eastpool and past Phoenix Gate, so they had a decision to make. “We can discuss that tonight.” 

“Yes we can. In the meantime, rest and prepare to leave within the hour.” He said to Joshua and Jote, their nods were the only response as they began their retreat to their rooms to prepare for their journey to Rosalith. Jill wrapped her arms around him. “You should be in bed, my star.” He murmured into her hair.

“We’ve got a long day ahead of us, Clive.” Jill replied. “Besides, Tarja gave us the all clear to travel.” Just more tonics to take now. She didn’t need to add.

“Hesitantly, I’m sure.” He chuckled, before she slapped his arm playfully, resulting in him raising his hands in surrender. “I’m only joking, Jill.”

“I know you are, my love.” Jill giggled, the chill air clouded her breath between them. “Are you ready to go back to Rosalith?”

“Of course. I not only get to help my brother raise the duchy from the ashes, but get to marry the love of my life.” He murmured with a smile. “A fresh start.”

“A fresh start indeed.” Jill looked at Jote and Joshua ahead of them. 

Jote had confided in her during her bedrest in the Infirmary that she had taken Joshua’s last name, ridding herself of the Undying surname that they gave her through a burning ceremony. Not that Jill blamed her for severing a tie to the Undying that betrayed her trust after nearly two decades of service, a family that wasted zero time to take a whip to her back for falling for the Phoenix. She considered her friend's decision the last few days, wondering if she should do the same.

“What’s on your mind, my star?” 

“Did you want me to take your name, when we marry?” She asked as they entered their solar after stopping by Charon's Toll to collect some last minute items for their journey to Rosaria. “The children would have it, of course, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to take the family name.”

“Did you want to? I wasn’t going to push you to, in case you wanted to keep your maiden name, but what’s mine is yours, as it always has been.” Clive answered, smoothing his thumb over her cheek as he pulled her close.

“Is that what you want?” 

“Whether or not you take my name, I don't mind, so long as you’re happy.” Clive chuckled into her hair. “You can always have both, and be Jill Warrick-Rosfield.” He added, jokingly. “I think even Joshua would get a kick out of it.”

“I think so too.” Jill smiled, her own soft laugh leaving her. Lady Marchioness Jill Warrick-Rosfield would be a bit of a mouthful with the title that awaited her after she married Clive, but it would allow her to keep her family name and finally have the Rosfield name as well.

“I don't want you to stress about it, my star. A last name should be the least of your worries.” Clive said quietly, seizing her by the hips. “Alright?”

“Alright.” She replied.

 

“Did we decide which direction we’ll be arriving from tomorrow?” Byron asked as they gathered in his room after they arrived at Martha's Rest, cups of wine, ale and tea pinning a map to the table, the roads leading in and out of Rosalith barely visible in the candle light.

“Going past Phoenix Gate and through Stillwind is a slightly longer journey,” Clive said, retracing the path that Jill, Gav and himself had taken all those moons ago. “It will give us less attention as that will put us through the northern part of town.”

“Going through Audhyll and over Bewit Bridge will take us right through the front gates of the castle,”  Joshua added, looking at his brother. “This will gain more attention as we pass through the village, but it may be the better choice.” 

“The Men of the Rock or Sabrequois soldiers no longer hold the bridge, dear nephew.” Byron confirmed. “Rosaria has waited nearly twenty years to see their Archduke return to the throne. Why not parade through the village?”

“Both directions are sound choices, however I think Uncle Byron has a point. With our convoy, no one in their right mind would try to attack us.” Jill said from her chair by the fire, her feet propped up; her tea resting on her swollen belly, Torgal laying at her side. “Do we know who is meeting us there?”

“Cyril and a selected few trusted Knights of the Undying have agreed to meet us at the front gates,” Jote replied. Hearing her use of fewer titles these last few months had been an unexpected, yet refreshing change. “And I believe a few lords of the Seven High Houses will be in attendance as well. The rest will come for the Crowning Ceremony next week.”

“Wade and his men will be here in the morning to escort us to Rosalith, and if there is no trouble in the coming weeks, they will stay throughout the time we occupy the castle to also train the shields he’s been recruiting and the men who will fall into services from the High Houses.” Clive continued. “Dorys told me that she has Cole and a small division of Cursebreakers volunteering to join the ranks to continue their work from Rosalith.”

“I'm glad to hear it.” Joshua replied. He wondered if their father and Rodney Murdoch thought of every conversation, every plan, every alliance as a battle strategy. “When will we expect them to arrive?”

“Gav will arrive with them in the days before the Ceremony.” Clive answered.

“I had seen to it to have everything reforged, and already sent to the castle personally before I came here.” Byron smiled. 

“Thank you, Uncle. Truly.” Joshua bowed his head with gratitude. The amount of help they had received from their uncle in the last few weeks have been extensive.

“Did you gather all that you two needed for your wedding?” Byron turned to Jill. 

“Yes,” Jill answered. “And then some.” 

They had gotten Clive’s wedding band from Charon this morning and Hortense had been working on a dress for her and gifted it to her before they left. Joshua told her that he had something planned for Clive on what he would wear so he was dressed for the occasion and not in his usual armor he expected his brother would want to wear. When Jill confronted them about his and Jote’s help on the wedding planning, she felt guilty about the small, thrown together last minute ceremony that they had. ‘That was what we wanted, Jill.’ Jote had told her. ‘We don’t mind at all, as we want you and Clive to be happy.’ While she did not doubt her sister's words, it still sat on the fire in the back of her mind. 

“At least you don't have to worry about the castle being filled with the members of court until after the wedding.” Joshua chuckled.

“You can say that again.” Clive smirked in agreement. Only, it wasn't just the members of the court that worried him. Three more days and then Jill would be his wife. He would meet their children, in the weeks following leading up to Solstice, if things go as planned. They still needed to decide if they would return to Bennumere before then or have Tarja join them in Rosalith; he loathed the thought of sending Jill back to the Hideaway alone if he can't step away from his duties in Rosaria, and already knows Jill will likely want to stay with him. Jill's stay in the Infirmary the last few nights scared the living daylights out of him, and until Tarja gave them the news that they had twins on the way, he expected the worst, fearing that something had gone wrong. Very, very wrong. He still held onto that fear, as everything good that he had been given always, always, had a tendency of being taken from him. 

“Clive?” Jill's voice snapped him from his own poisonous thoughts, her touch on his arm was gentle. “Are you alright?” She must have sensed him spiraling again and got up to bring him back.

He put his hand on hers. “I'm alright.”

“Perhaps we should call it a night.” Byron said, seeing Jote stifle a yawn. “I’m certain it's been a long day for you all.”

“That may be a good idea, considering the day we have tomorrow as well.” Joshua concurred, as if sensing his brother's unease, and his wife's exhaustion. “Across the bridge?” He asked Clive.

“Across the bridge.” 

“Bright and early then.” Bryon downed the rest of his ale. “I have taken the liberty to purchase rooms for each of you.” He added, handing Clive and Joshua each a key. “Rest well.” 

“Thank you, Uncle.” Clive said with a small smile, wrapping an arm around Jill's waist. “After you, Joshua.” He added, gesturing for the door to allow Joshua and Jote to leave first.

“Don't stay up too late, brother.” Joshua teased.

“Same goes for you.” Clive countered, causing Jill and Jote to roll their eyes at each other in feigned annoyance. 

“Don't listen to him. We'll see you in the morning.” Jote said with a smile, pulling her husband towards their room.

“See you in the morning.” Jill waved as she followed Clive to theirs.

Notes:

For those who don't know what a burning ceremony is, these are usually small rituals where the lady burns something from their family after marriage. Even a piece of parchment with their maiden name on it.

In Jote's case, she just had her maiden name from the Undying, so she wrote it down, and burned it before adopting the Rosfield name.

Thank you so much for the comments and the Kudos and for coming on this ride with me!

Chapter 15

Notes:

The Rosfields return to Rosalith Castle together for the first time since Phoenix Gate.

“I hate taking these…” Jill grimaced the following morning, tonic in hand before knocking it back, chasing it with water to get the bitterness out of her mouth, forcing herself not to gag at the taste.

“I know, my star, but it has to be done.” Clive wrapped his arms around her from behind. He nestled his face into the crook of her neck. “Hopefully it’s not too much longer. Was it the stonawart or the distilled wyverntail that was increased?” 

“Both actually.” Jill muttered as she leaned into him, him holding the considerable swell of her stomach eased the ache in her back and she nearly groaned at the relief he gave her. He could do this all day and she wouldn't mind one moment of it. “Double the dosage for each of them.” 

“Did Tarja ever figure out what happened? Did she tell you?” 

“She thinks it was the remnants of the curse that likely caused the bleeding, hence the additional tonics to try to combat it.” Jill said with a sigh as she put her hands on top of his. “I’m just worried that all of this may come back to haunt us.” 

“I know, but we’ll take it day by day, one step at a time.” He reassured her, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, as they swayed together. To say he was terrified, it was an understatement, but he held back his fears to help Jill bear the weight of her anxieties as that date crept everso closer, so she didn't have to worry about him as well. 

A kweh from one of the chocobos outside had Jill gaze out of the window. “We should get ready to go. I’m sure your uncle is already downstairs, probably wondering where we are. Wade will be here at any moment.”

“True, but you’re allowed some grace, my star.” Clive murmured. They’re not the one carrying twins , he didn’t need to add. “If anyone has a problem with that, they can take it up with me.”

Jill giggled softly at the statement, and twisted slightly to kiss him, reaching up to weave her fingers into his hair. “What would I do without you, Clive?”

“There will never be a day where we’ll be separated again, Jill,” Clive said at her lips. “And I will fight the Founder herself if anyone tries to take that away before it is our time.”

“That makes two of us, my love.” 

 

Jote shuttered at the autumn chill even with the traveling leathers that she wore as their convoy made their way over the bridge, as Clive and Joshua led the procession, herself, Jill, Torgal, and Byron behind them, and then the score of Guardians of the Flame behind Sir Wade brought up the rear.

“If I had known that we would be met with this kind of weather today, I would have arranged for a wagon.” Clive said as he gazed back at Jill. “Are you doing alright?” He asked her.

“Just fine, Clive.” Jill replied with a smirk. 

“We’re almost there,” Joshua said upon seeing her shiver as he looked behind him, mirroring his brother to lock eyes with Jote. “And then we’ll get you two before a fire.” He was grateful that they decided to go this way, not only for Jill’s sake, but they had not counted on the cold to linger for so long in the day, or the fog that greeted them on the bridge. His heart raced upon seeing the towers of Rosalith getting closer, finally being able to see his childhood home for the first time in nearly twenty years. He could already hear the bells ringing in the clock tower on the far side of the village, announcing their arrival. 

“You are my fire, beloved.” Jote replied in kind as she gave him a smile, only to be met with a devilish grin.  The cold had made the healed scars on her back ache, but she didn’t mind it. It reminded her that she was alive, that she was whole, that she fought to get where she was today, now only a sennight away from being officially crowned as Joshua’s Archduchess. 

“As you are mine.” Joshua gazed further back at the convoy behind them, before shifting his eyes to his brother beside him. Both Clive and Jill’s faces were solemn, and he didn’t need to ask them why. The last time that they were here was nearly a year ago, and Rosalith was in flames then. Hugo Kupka had them both in crystal fetters, and had nearly taken Jill’s head while he was at it. He shifted his gaze back to ahead of them, and crimson banners fluttered in the wind, the familiar Rosfield coat of arms with the Phoenix were on them. As if they were welcoming them home.

As they entered the village, they passed a statue that had been built of Joshua, frozen as he was the last time that he traveled through the square; the dias of the statue littered with candles that had long since burned out, dried up flowers and other tokens that have survived the elements of past two decades. 

“Was this here when we last came to Rosalith?” Joshua heard Jill ask no one in particular.

“Anabella had that statue built the summer after Phoenix Gate, shortly after the raid of the Ironblood.” Byron said darkly. “A poor attempt to tame the populace in my opinion. I'm surprised to hear you didn't see it when you came to face Hugo Kupka.”

“We journeyed through the northern road through Stillwind, so it doesn't surprise me that we missed it.” Clive replied, just loud enough for Byron to hear. “I’m shocked it’s still standing, if we’re being truly honest, Uncle.” Bewit Bridge was occupied then, and since this was in the square, it had to be pure luck that the statue survived the siege that nearly wiped Rosalith off the map.

Joshua held his tongue. A poor attempt to tame the populace indeed. He had no idea that it existed, he hadn’t ridden through the villages near Rosalith since he was ten years old. He had half a mind to tear it down, but putting a stain on his name with the people that he should have been protecting was not something that he had in mind. He gently pulled on the reins of his chocobo and guided her in the direction of the castle, and villagers were already lining the streets to greet them. Joshua swallowed the lump in his throat as banners, and ribbons of crimson, white and gold were strung up leading to the castle gates. 

“Long Live House Rosfield!” Joshua barely heard someone shout behind him, Sir Wade, over the ringing in his ears, and the villagers cheered back in answer, each man, woman and child dipping their heads as they watched the Archduke, his First Shield, and their ladies pass, trailed by the Guardians of the Flame. 

“Long Live the Phoenix!” A villager had shouted back, and it took everything for Joshua to even smile at the words, as the remaining villagers repeated after him. A Phoenix no longer, and it's taken months for all four of them to heal from the lack of aether that they had all grown accustomed to having.

Clive held onto Ambrosia’s reins a little tighter as they approached the front gates, and heard the whispers of the villagers over their cheering. The Firebird’s flame has returned. He overheard them say amongst themselves. Thank the Founder that Elwin’s sons have come back to us. Lady Warrick is with them! Who's the dark haired lass with them? He smiled softly, he had half expected there to be those who would have not wanted the Duchy to come back, but Martha was right. The Rosaria that they have come to know had fought long and hard to preserve what little it could of their father’s leadership, and had welcomed them back with open arms. 

“Follow me, boy, o'er the rolling green meadows…” Clive heard a small voice sing over the crowd. “Follow the flames and arise from the shadows.” The child, more confident this time, continued as he met Clive’s gaze, his arms brought out before him in a Shield’s salute. He had to be no older than five or so years old, sitting on his father’s shoulders, the man had to be close to Clive's age. Sanbreque had forbidden the singing of the song after Phoenix Gate, had put soldiers to the lash for even humming the tune during his time as a slave. “Hear the Rosarian voices outring,” The boy’s father joined his son this time. “Fanned by the firebird's life-giving wings!”

“Oh, on the wind borne,” The villagers around them began. “O'er the great land of Storm!”

Joshua turned to Clive and they couldn’t stop the smile that they gave each other, to Jill and Jote as their people sung their banner song as they passed, the Guardians behind them unable to resist from joining in. This made it real, made all worth the pain, the fighting, that they all had suffered the last twenty years. 

“Turn up your eyes to the boundless blue heavens! See how the fire in the firmament beckons! Hear the Rosarian voices' acclaim,” The entire village was singing now as the front gates of Rosalith Castle opened for them. “Stirred by the firebird's life-giving flames! Oh, on the wind borne, O'er the great land of Storm!” 

As the procession entered the courtyard behind the gates, Joshua looked back at the villagers that had followed them, and at long last, he felt like he was home. 

 

Jill took her time to dismount from her chocobo, Clive already had his hands on her waist to steady her. “I’ve got you, my star.” He murmured. 

“Thank you, my love.” Jill said as she looked up at the castle before her. For six years, she had called this home, and now after a year of seeing it in flames, after seeing the village below in high spirits, she had that familiar excitement of her childhood begin to run its course. She turned to look at Jote, who had never set foot in Rosalith, and smiled at the awe on her face, as Joshua helped her from her chocobo, sharing a moment of their own before they faced the wolves that awaited them. She gave Clive a kiss on the cheek before motioning to Joshua. “Go on, we'll be right behind you.” She said, Jote gravitating to her side as Cyril approached Joshua.

“Your Grace, My Lord Marquess.” Cyril said with a bow. “Welcome back to Rosalith Castle.” 

“Thank you, Cyril.” Joshua looked to the two lords behind him. “Forgive me, we have not been introduced, my lords.” 

“Lord Hammond, Your Grace.” The portly man dipped his balding head with his hand over his heart. 

“Lord Brisbane,” The white haired man gave a slight bow. “Ever at your service, Your Grace,” He turned to look at Clive, at the dark gaze in his eyes behind his untidy hair, at the rugged scar on his left cheek. He has rumors of what happened to Elwin's firstborn son, and it seemed as if they were true. “Lord Marquess.” He acknowledged. “Lord Rosfield, a pleasure to see you again.” Brisbane lifted his head to Byron. 

“Brisbane, I didn’t think that you would be one of the first to welcome my nephews home.” Byron said with a smirk. 

“Just wanted to confirm that the Rosfield line was still intact, as you and Master Cyril had claimed, and it seems that the rumors were true. There is no doubt that they’re Elwin’s sons.” He responded with a drawl.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Lord Brisbane.” Clive said darkly. He didn’t even need his uncle to confirm that this was one of the houses that had taken their mother’s lies willingly. “Cyril has no reason to lie, considering it was he and the Undying who saved my brother from Phoenix Gate.”

“A Phoenix through and through, Your Grace.” Hammond cut in with a nervous laugh. 

It was an effort for Joshua not to roll his eyes. “Thank you for agreeing to meet us before the Crowning Ceremony, my lords. I assume the remaining Houses will join us in the coming days.” 

“Your assumption is correct, Your Grace.” Lord Brisbane replied, his attention now drawn to the two ladies that came to the brothers’ sides, at the frost wolf that sat at the feet of his master and mistress. “And who do we have here?” 

“Oh, where are my manners?” Joshua said with a curt smile. “I believe you may already know Lady Marchioness Jill Warrick,” He turned to his sister in law, already using the title she would technically receive in two days. Jill gave them a slight curtsy before he gestured to Jote, who mirrored Jill. “And may I introduce my Archduchess, Jote Rosfield.” 

The two lords looked at the Archduke, and his First Shield, dumbfounded. They had not anticipated to have both of them married, the Lord Marquess and his Marchioness already expecting a child. The other four Houses would be none too pleased to hear that news, as three of them had daughters to offer the Duchy for marriage. Hesitatingly, they bowed to the ladies in their company.

Cyril looked at Jote and gave her a dip of his head. “Your Grace.” He said. 

“Master Cyril.” Jote said civilly. It had been the first words he had spoken to her in person since the events that transpired in Tabor, her newfound title was foreign for the both of them, as she technically outranked him now. “My lords.” She added, shifting her gaze to the men whose eyes looked at her with the same glare the Elders gave her months ago. 

“Shall we take this conversation inside, Joshua? I would rather not let our ladies wait any longer in the cold.” Clive asked, as if to break the conversation before the lords before them started berating him and Jote of her status as his wife. 

“Yes, since all hope for the day to warm up is fleeting.” Joshua said, silently thanking his brother’s interjection. He offered his arm to his wife, Cyril, and Lords Hammond and Brisbane, stepping aside to let them pass. 

Clive gave the order to Wade to escort the Guardians of the Flame to the barracks, so they could warm up before taking their posts around the castle, before offering his arm to Jill, and followed his brother, Byron and Torgal close behind them.

Notes:

For those who have seen the Live Action Requiem Trailer, will know of the statue of Joshua.

I also couldn't help the Banner Song being sung to welcome them home.💕

Chapter 16

Notes:

To which a familiar face comes back into the fold.

Jote had never been to Rosalith Castle, had never been inside it, but had heard stories of how beautiful it was from Cyril, his predecessor, and a few selective others. Even with the damage that it sustained during its multiple sieges over the years, only a few of those scars remained. Like Joshua, the closest she had gotten had been Pheonix Gate, had admired its towers from afar. 

While Joshua, Clive, and Byron were called to meet with the lords and the few Undying that joined Cyril, Jote wanted to explore, but also wanted to stay at Joshua’s side, in case he needed her at his side.

“You don’t have to stay for this meeting, my darling.” Joshua whispered softly.

“Are you certain?” She asked him. 

“Go, explore, be curious. This place will be as much as home to you as it will mine.” He answered with a smile. “Trust me.”

“I’ll join you.” Jill said, linking her arm with her’s. “Come on, I’ll show you around.” 

“We’ll come look for you after we’re done.” Clive called after them. 

 

Jill had taken Jote to every place that she could remember she had access to as a young girl, telling her all the stories, and adventures that she, Clive and Joshua would have as children. She showed her the library, Elwin’s collection of books and literature had thankfully been preserved and restored by the Undying. The castle was already a buzz on activity as the servants that had already arrived were hard at work in the kitchens, preparing the countless bedrooms for guests, and restoring the artwork, and decor to the halls ahead of the Crowning Ceremony next week. 

“I’m going to have to get used to having servants to myself, aren’t I?” Jote asked quietly. 

“Yes, and no. You can always have a trusted lady waiting and send the rest to serve elsewhere for you.” 

“Really? I didn’t realize that was something you could do.” 

“It is. I was lucky to find a friend in a few of my ladies that would tend to me.” Jill replied. “However, when I was old enough, I had the mind to know that I didn’t need five ladies to help me dress. You will have that ability as well, however as Archduchess, you will likely have a tail of at least two ladies with you at all times.” 

“Would it be selfish to ask that you be one of those ladies at my side?” Jote inquired. “Obviously, after you have the twins, and when you come back from your visits to the Hideaway.” 

“No. It will not be selfish at all.” Jill squeezed her sister in law’s hand. “I’ll even help you find those ladies to tail you when I’m not here, if you would like.”

“I would like that very much.” Jote responded as they passed through the living quarters. 

“Lady Jill–” A voice gasped from behind them and Jill turned around, recognizing the voice. Down the hall, stood Lady Marleigh, and two other girls that she recognized from her time with the Ironblood.

“Lady Marleigh–” Jill felt tears well in her eyes as the ladies bolted down the hall to greet them. “Anya– Sarai–” She choked out past the lump in her throat as the four of them embraced. 

“Bless the Founder, you got out–” Marleigh said. 

“We did, and so did you.” Jill managed. “How are you here?”

“I gathered as many ladies as I could when they evacuated the island, and when we got to shore, we fled.” She said as they pulled away.

“How many got away?”

“Us three and four are preparing the Archduke’s and the Lord Marquess’ room, and two more are in the kitchens.” Anya confirmed. 

“I’m so glad to hear that. Truly.” Jill said, happy to know that even that many agreed to come to Rosalith. 

“It was actually Lord Byron who brought us here, but we didn’t think we would see you again.” Sarai said. “And with child!” She exclaimed excitedly. 

“I pray that your husband is treating you well.” Anya said, taking note of the ring on Jill’s hand.

“Is it Lord Clive's?” Marleigh asked.

“Yes, it is, and far more than you can dream.” Jill nodded, seeing the excitement in all three of their eyes. 

“My many congratulations to you.” Marleigh said before she saw Jote. “I’m so sorry, my lady, for our lack of manners.”

“No apologies needed.” Jote replied.

“This is Jote.” Jill began, grabbing her sister’s hand. “Jote, this is Lady Marleigh, and this is Anya and Sarai.” She added, gesturing to the two ladies beside her. 

“I’m Joshua– His Grace’s wife.” Jote stammered with a small smile. 

“Lady Jote,” Marleigh curtsied, Anya and Sarai followed suit. “I oversee the servants here, and these two were just assigned to be the ladies of your bedchamber. It’s very nice to make your acquaintance.”

Jote looked at the three ladies as Jill squeezed her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, Lady Marleigh. Jill has told me so much about you.”

“It seems you have me at a disadvantage, my lady. I hope you and I will be able to confide in one another as Lady Jill and I had.”

“I look forward to it.” Jote replied, with a dip in her head. 

“We have duties to continue,” Lady Marleigh said as she hugged Jill again, and curtsied to Jote once more. “But, we must talk more soon, the both of you.”

“Of course. Please don’t let us keep you.” Jill said, excusing them. 

They waited for the three ladies to disappear down the hall before Jote spoke. “I like them.” She murmured as she turned to Jill. “I see why you had such a friendship with Lady Marleigh.” 

“She is definitely someone who you can trust until the ends of the earth.” Jill replied in kind, linking her arm with Jote’s and they continued their walk. “I think you’ll get along with them just fine.”

“I think I will too.”

 

Clive finally loosened the breath he had been holding once Cyril, Lord Hammond, and Lord Brisbane left for the night, leaving Joshua, Byron and himself alone in their father’s– Joshua’s study, Torgal curled up by the fire in the hearth. “I thought they would never leave.”

“You can say that again.” Joshua said from his chair behind the mahogany desk, rubbing at his temple to ease the headache that had formed there. “But I fear this will only get worse before it gets better.” 

“Right you are about that, Joshua.” Byron said as he braced himself against the back of the chair that faced his younger nephew. “I’m surprised that there were less Undying in your council than what your father had.” From what he remembered from Elwin, he had always had five to six members that accompanied his Burning Quill. Only Cyril and two additional knights had met with his nephew. 

“Oh, I failed to tell you months ago, Uncle.” Joshua answered. “I disbanded the council. It appears that they were holding meetings without my knowledge.”

“Not to mention that they had Jote flogged as well.” Clive added coldly.

“Did they really?” Byron perked up, raising a brow with curiosity. “If that were me, I would have them dead on the spot.” 

“Not to worry. I made sure they got what they deserved.” Joshua’s voice was grim. Only Cyril, Garrett, and Adelyne, were the ones who would meet with him and Jote. Once he received the message that his order had been carried out and successful from the assassins; that Maylor, Erina and Hilda were no more, that was the last he spoke on the matter. Though it still gave him a flicker of anger, of fear upon seeing the scars that had raked down his wife’s back that reminded him of the betrayal of their trust. “It was the only way to start cutting away the poison that would bring us ruin, without starting as a tyrant.”

“You are far from a tyrant, Joshua. Though, I am nothing against you for striking back with a bit of revenge.” Byron responded. “I’m sure it didn’t take long to know out of the two lords in this room, who supported the viper.” 

“It certainly did not. You heard what Brisbane said as we were making introductions.” Joshua said as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk, his clasped hands hiding his mouth as he contemplated their next moves on the invisible chess board of them versus the Lords of the High Houses that may be against them. “It makes you wonder who else will hold the same disdain for us both, as it is clear that we do not share in Mother’s ideals or her lies.”

“Hammond seems to want to avoid all conflict, which is a relief, but you’re right.” Clive crossed his arms. “Brisbane, however, is another story.”

“Brisbane had always been a thorn in Elwin’s side.” Byron said. “He was first to even suggest having you sent away, Clive, when you were not chosen by the Phoenix. Even told your father that it was better to hear it from him first, before the other Houses did.” 

“Let me guess, Father was having none of it?” Clive dared.

“Anabella had gone to visit her mother, and she left you here with the nursemaid. You were only three or four at the time. Joshua wasn’t even born yet.” Byron recalled. “Elwin called me here to take you to Port Isolde, while he told Brisbane to fuck off. Just in case he decided to try something. Elwin was already on edge, taking the blame himself for you not being the Phoenix, but you were his son, so he wanted to protect you. When Brisbane stood down, your father brought you home before your mother had returned to even know what happened.”

“I can’t even remember that.” Clive tried to stir up the memory in his childhood, and while he had spent many days and summers in Port Isolde, he failed to bring this particular memory to light. 

“I don’t expect you to, my boy. That was nigh on thirty years ago.” 

“Do you expect that to happen again?” Joshua asked carefully. 

“Until you start having heirs, I can't say for certain. Brisbane, maybe.” Byron shrugged. “Especially if he learns of your wife's lineage. I cannot speak for the other houses, I’m afraid. They may let it slide as she was of the Undying, but they may not.” 

“An outrage we're already anticipating from the Houses. Whether it be for Clive or for Jote.” Joshua's voice was even as he leaned back in his father's– his chair. Clive could see the wheels in his brother's head turning, calm and calculated, like he had seen both a scholar and Lord Commander have. Just as their father had done all those years ago. “Whatever storm they throw our way, we'll weather it. We all have seen first hand what this world has done to us, whether it be magickally, mentally, emotionally, or physically. If anyone should be preparing for the wolves, it will need to be the Houses, and they will soon find out that we will not bend the knee so easily as our mother had claimed.” 

“Most of the Houses embraced your father’s death then. Your mother offered money and protection from the Sanbrequois soldiers that forced themselves into Rosaria. Those who didn’t, did so hesitatingly, Lord Hammond being one of them.” Byron said darkly.

“These next few weeks will then show that we cannot trust anyone outside of this room, save for Jill and Jote.” Joshua replied. “What of the servants? I know you saw the hiring of most of them personally. Should we be worried about any spies?”

“Half of the staff worked under Elwin when he was still in power, and welcomed the position willingly, and had no connection to your mother in any regard. Nine ladies were refugees from Drustanus when the Mothercrystal fell, and had sought out asylum after escaping from the Ironblood. It seemed like they had been on the run for a while, so I had them serve my house until repairs for Rosalith were underway.”

“Was one of them Lady Marleigh, by chance?” Clive inquired. He had met the woman who had been Jill’s light during her captivity before taking down Drake’s Breath, had been with Jill when she begged her to run, to get off the island before killing Imreann. 

“The very same. I even put the dear woman in charge. She was very protective of her ladies and didn’t want them to be split up.” Byron smiled. “I hope you don’t mind that I have assigned them to your wives.”

“That is more than perfect. They were Jill’s friends during her time with the Ironblood.” Clive replied. “From what Jill told me, those ladies can be trusted, and were as much a prisoner as she was, just without the chains. Thank you for granting the safety they needed.”

“You’re welcome. They spoke of Jill often, so I figured they would be best suited here.”

“If Jill trusts them, then so do I.” Joshua confirmed. “As for the rest, there’s a possibility that the Houses may have sent a spy?”

“Correct, my boy. I would not put it past them for sending more than one either.” 

“Then we test their loyalties and weed them out if we need to. For both servants and the remaining Houses.” Clive said. “I hope you don't mind if we ask for your council on occasion, Uncle.” 

“Any insight that you can provide would be invaluable.” Joshua added.

“My council is yours– Both of yours. I hope to provide the council that I could not give my own brother when he took up the throne.” Byron replied. “All you need is ask.”

Notes:

And that familiar face is Lady Marleigh, free from the Ironblood! 💕

Thank you for all the comments and kudos!🥰

Chapter 17

Notes:

Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Blue.

Jill had spent the night in the Archduchess’ rooms with Jote to keep up the Northern tradition of the groom not seeing the bride prior to the wedding, and while they should have been sleeping, they sat across each other on the large bed, and talked until they could see the milky light of the coming dawn. 

“Founder, I'm going to miss this…” Jill murmured as they listened to the dying fire in the hearth.

“So am I… This bed is too big…” Jote whispered as she turned to her side. “And those old men really expect us to sleep apart.”

“I can see why you would rather share with Joshua.” Jill giggled, half asleep against the pillows. “You’re his wife, I think you have every right to break some rules that some grumpy old men created centuries ago.”

“I never imagined that the Archduchess would have her own rooms. It must be so lonely at night.” She huffed a laugh. “Especially after everything… I would rather have company, than have to spend most of my nights alone again.” 

Jill had coveted the times she and Jote shared a bed, and either talked until they fell asleep or in silence, just grateful to be in each other's company. While Clive granted her that as well in more ways than one, there was something about two friends, sisters in arms, in grief, who provided a different sense of comfort. Even during her stay in the Invincible’s infirmary, Tarja had Clive and Joshua run errands for her while Jill laid in a state of panic that second night, Jote had remained at her side. 

“Being married now doesn't have to end this.” Jote said, sitting up slightly to look at her friend. “Just say the word, and I'm sure Joshua can survive a night without me in his bed.”

“Likewise, my friend, and I’ll be there.” Jill replied with a laugh as they took each other’s hands. She knew Clive wouldn’t mind it, as he knew that he couldn’t break that sisterly bond that she and Jote had forged together in the weeks after Origin that has only gotten stronger in the recent months. 

“I like the sound of that.”

 

“Joshua, what is this?” Clive asked his brother on the morning of his wedding, as he stared at the crimson uniform on his brother’s bed. It looked like an altered version of what his father and Lord Murdoch would wear for formal occasions. “Did you mean to have me wear this for the Crowning Ceremony?” He added, as he drank deeply from his coffee.

“Did you really think I was going to have Jill marry you in your usual tunic and armor?” Joshua countered. Clive's silence was the answer he had expected. “Yes, I want you to wear this for the Crowning Ceremony, but I also want you to wear this today. And before you ask, yes, it was Father's. I just had it altered to reflect your rank.” What his brother didn’t know was there was more regalia that waited for him for the Crowning Ceremony beyond this.

Clive reached to touch the gold cords that would drape around his arm and to his lapel, the black, gold and silver medals that ranked him on the collar. The highest rank to ever be bestowed upon anyone in the Duchy, that put him second in command behind Joshua. “Joshua, I–” He shouldn’t be receiving this. Even after everything, a small of him wondered if he was still in some fever dream after his fight with Ultima, too lost in his grief from losing his brother again, waiting for Death to finally take him. “I can’t accept this.”

“You can, and you will, Clive.” Joshua said. “Brother, don’t tell me that you don’t deserve this, when you do. You have bled, fought and survived to get here, and there is nothing here that can tell you otherwise. You have earned this.” 

Clive looked back at the uniform. “Are you sure that you want me to wear this today?”

“Yes. It’s customary for the Lord Commander to wear his dress uniform for all ceremonies, even if it is his own wedding. Even Lord Rodney wore his to his wedding to Lady Hanna, if the stories from Father and Uncle Byron are to be believed.” Joshua put it plainly with a chuckle. “Besides, Jill hasn’t seen it yet, so this is our surprise to her.”

Clive smiled at the thought. Jill had never seen him in uniform, especially since he wasn’t to receive one until he became of age, but had seen him in suits appropriate for the banquets and dances that were held during their childhood. “If only Mother didn’t loot the place, and take the belongings from Jill’s dowry.” He said, thinking of the heirlooms that she had brought with her from the North, including that kokoshnik that Clive always liked.

“If you’re talking about her crown that she wore at the Remembrance Banquet when we were kids, then you and I are of the same mind.” Joshua said, as he pulled out a black box. “I planned to give it back to Jill as a wedding gift.” He added as he handed it to his brother.

He took it hesitatingly and opened it. “How did you find this?” He said, finding it as immaculate as the day he first saw it on her head over twenty years ago; the crafted silver, the sapphires, aquamarines, diamonds and pearls, cleaned and polished. “I thought for sure Mother would have had it melted down the first chance she got.” 

“Apparently not. Dion found it in Oriflamme years ago, and thought it looked familiar, but it was out of place as a piece of the Sanbrequois crown jewels, and it seemed to have been forgotten by Mother when she moved to Twinside.” Joshua began. Dion had mentioned it to him when they met at Dragoon's Camp, and he had sent Terence to bring it before they left for the Crystalline Dominion and Joshua had recognized it immediately. This was Shiva’s, wasn’t it? He had asked him. “I didn't ask to take possession of it until we were reunited. Byron’s been keeping it safe for me since.” 

“Founder, Joshua.” Clive ran a hand through his hair. 

“It was her mother's, was it not?”

“Yes. I believe it was.” He answered, remembering it slipping over her brow as they danced all those years ago. A true princess from the North. His princess from the North. 

“Shall I give it to her before we leave?” Joshua asked him. 

 “I think so.” A tear threatened to fall. “Thank you, Joshua.”

“You can thank me later. Now come on, let's finish our breakfast and get you ready. Otherwise, I’ll never hear the end of it from Jote that we’re late.”

 

Lady Marleigh had come with breakfast for both Jill and Jote and had taken the time to do Jill’s hair, coils of silver framed her face; the rest, braided, curled, and pinned up before leaving to tend to her duties throughout the castle, while Anya and Sarai remained to help them dress, promising to return before they leave. The morning flew by like no time at all until she stood before the mirror, and admired Hortense’s handiwork as Sarai finished tying the laces to the white gown, thin ribbons of platinum weaved with dark sapphire silk, threads of pale azure stitched into the ivory chiffon, and Anya buttoned her sleeves that ended with silver embroidery of hidden snowflakes at her wrists. How Hortense managed to create this in such little time, and to make it fit perfectly, and still have it flowing enough to accommodate the swell of her middle, she had no idea. She remembered the talented seamstress having her try on a mock up of what it would look like, and had fallen in love with that, and found the finished gown to be more beautiful than Jill ever could imagine. However, she felt like something was missing, and she couldn’t put her finger on it. Northern ladies never wore a veil when they married for a tradition that had long since been forgotten by her memory, so what was it that made her feel not complete?

A knock on the door snapped her from her thoughts, and Jote’s deep emerald dress hissed on the floor as she opened it. “It’s Joshua, can he come in?” She asked.

“Yes, he can.” Jill replied with a smile as Anya and Sarai finished, and she saw Joshua enter in the reflection in the mirror. Like his wife, he elected to forgo all ducal regalia today, but he still held that grace in his black and red formal attire.

“Jill–” Joshua said, retreating a step as he took in his sister in law. “Clive’s going faint when he sees you.” 

“You think so?” Jill responded with a soft smile, rearranging her dress as she turned to face him. 

“I know so.” He said, a smile of his own spreading on his face. “You look stunning.” Red flooded her cheeks as Joshua approached her with a black box and offered it to her. “For you.” Jill took the box and opened it, and her smile faltered, tears welling in her eyes as she recognized the kokoshnik, her mother’s crown, its countless and priceless jewels sparkling in the sunlight. “A wedding gift.” He murmured softly as she looked up at him. 

“How?” Jill breathed, unable to hide the shake in her voice. 

“Dion.” Joshua said. “He found it with Mother’s things and saw to it that it was returned to my possession, though it was never really mine to begin with. Since this was an heirloom to the Royal House of the Northern Territories, I am returning it to you.”

“Joshua…” Jill managed to say, tears slipping free of her storm grey eyes as she took it out of its nesting box. It was lighter than she remembered, but the last time she held it, she was but a child. Her mother had passed away the winter after she arrived at Rosalith, and then her father stopped writing after that, only to follow her mother the next summer. She’ll never forget the day when Elwin summoned her to his office and broke the news to her that both her parents were gone, that he could never replace them, but she wished she was brave enough to have told him that he was more of a father to her than the Silvermane himself when they returned from their trip to the Northern Territories to give their condolences. “Thank you.” She said as she wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you…”

“You’re very welcome, Jill.” He replied, as he pulled away, his sister’s face shifted to something that he hadn’t seen since they were kids. “I’m going to get Clive out of here, before he breaks tradition, and we’ll see you soon, alright?”

Jill nodded. “We’ll be right behind you.” She said as she watched him leave.

When the door closed behind him, she looked at the crown once more, and then turned back to the mirror and carefully settled it on her head for the first time in two decades, and the Princess of the North stared back at her.

“You should wear it today.” Jote said, as she linked her arm with Jill’s. “It’s perfect.”

“I think I will.” Jill answered, finally feeling complete. When Lady Marleigh returned, Jill knew that she was ready.

Notes:

A private wedding next chapter, before Rosalith is flooded with dignitaries from across the Duchy.

Chapter 18

Notes:

In which Clive Rosfield marries the love of his life.

Clive smoothed the lapels of his uniform, and tried to tame his hair in the reflection of the window as he waited for Joshua, but failed; the ebony locks returned to where they were not moments ago. Torgal barked at him once at his side, catching his attention from his polished boots to look up at his brother. “Are we about ready?” Clive asked.

“I think we’re ready. Jill and Jote are finishing up.” Joshua replied as he adjusted the gold band of the heartstone on his wrist, twin to the one Clive wore. 

“You three go on ahead,” Byron said, brushing a piece of lint from his sleeve. “I’ll escort the ladies to the meadow when they come downstairs.” And throw off the scent of anyone who may wonder why all four of them disappeared dressed in their finest, He didn’t need to say. A vow renewal was the lie that everyone seemed to have fallen for so far, and they planned to keep it that way. 

“Thank you, Uncle.” Joshua said, patting his brother on the shoulder as he led the way, Torgal nudging Clive’s hand to follow. 

 

“Clive, you look fine.” Joshua said as they stood in the meadow outside of Rosalith Castle, Clive tugging at his collar as his eyes kept shifting to his polished boots, Torgal, and the hill. The afternoon sun was warming the autumn chill, the late blooming wildflowers swaying in the gentle breeze. Snow daisies were out of season now, but it would have made this day even more perfect.

“Do I?” He countered. To say that he was anxious was an understatement. At any moment, Jill would crest that hill and he may very well break down into a thousand pieces.

“Yes,” Joshua answered, fixing his brother’s collar. “Jill is not going to turn around the moment she sees you.”

“Well, when you put it that way.” Clive said, his brother putting that image in his head did not do wonders for his climbing anxiety. Torgal barked towards the hill, and it drew their attention to the three figures that walked down it. “By the Flames…” He said, his heart stopping as he saw Jill, and he had to keep himself from swaying on his feet. “Jill–” He managed before his breath left him completely at the sight of his bride.

Jill’s grip on Byron’s arm tightened slightly, seeing Clive in his formal uniform, a sight she never thought she’d see, ever in this life. Joshua looked dashing, but Clive. Clive appeared immaculately handsome, and that man was to be her husband. She adjusted her hold on her skirts, and continued forward, unable to contain her smile that started to widen. When they met them, Torgal barked excitedly at her as she hugged Byron, before Byron gave his nephew an embrace. Jote gave her sister in law a peck on the cheek, a cheerful smirk on her face as she stood at Joshua’s side. 

“Oh, my star…” Clive rasped as he took her hands. Hortense really outdid herself with her gown, and her crown brought everything together that made her appear like Shiva herself. “My treasure.” He added, squeezing her hands. 

Color flooded Jill’s face as she took him in. “My love,” She responded in equal quiet, squeezing his hands back. “My life.” 

“Sh– Shall we?” Clive stammered. He must think this was a dream as much as she did. 

“Yes.” Jill breathed, and they both looked at Joshua.

“We are brought together to witness the union of Jill Warrick, and Clive Rosfield.” Joshua began, seeing his brother look at Jill in a brand new light, as if a goddess stood before him. “Clive, will you take Jill to be your wife and pledge to her before all gathered here to be her love, her defender in unrest? Will you stand by her in all things fair and foul? Will you cherish her for the gift that she is, forsaking all others, keeping only unto her, so long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” Clive began his vow. “I, Clive Rosfield, take you, Jill Warrick, to be my wife.  With this ring I give to you as a token of my love and devotion to you, I pledge to you all that I am, and all that I will ever be, as your husband.” He slid a simple silver band on her finger to compliment the ring he gave her months ago. “To hold you in the highest of light, from sunrise and to sunset of each coming day. To weather through the storms that will come to pass, and explore the wonderful mysteries of this life. From this day forth, I promise you my faithfulness, loyalty, compassion, and friendship. I promise, my star, to be by your side in times of joy and times of challenge, until we have no more days remaining.”

“Jill, will you take Clive to be your husband and pledge to him before all gathered here to be his love, his defender in unrest? Will you stand by him in all things fair and foul? Will you cherish him for the gift that he is, forsaking all others, keeping only unto him, so long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” Jill answered with a smile. “I, Jill Warrick, take you, Clive Rosfield, to be my husband. With this ring I give to you as a token of my love and devotion to you, I pledge to you all that I am, and all that I will ever be, as your wife.” She began, sliding a dark gold ring, with garnets and onyx pressed into the band, onto his finger. If he had gotten her ring as it reminded him of Shiva, she made sure to get one that reminded her of Ifrit. “To hold you in the highest of light, from sunrise and to sunset of each coming day. To weather through the storms that will come to pass, and explore the wonderful mysteries of this life. From this day forth, I promise you my faithfulness, loyalty, compassion, and friendship. I promise, my love, to be by your side in times of joy and times of challenge, until we have no more days remaining.”

The grasp they had on each other’s hands tightened as they smiled at each other, shedding tears of joy as they looked back at Joshua.

“From this day forward, you will no longer walk the paths of life alone.  May this life’s challenges be met together with courage, and may your days be filled with laughter, trust, and love.” Joshua said, as he smiled at his brother and sister, silver lining their eyes. “You once walked a path alone, now you walk together, hand in hand. You have been blessed with an amazing, unique partner, someone to listen to your heart and to help you realize all your dreams. Create a home that is warm and welcoming. Learn from failure, and grow with your achievements, be they on the battlefield or wherever life finds you. You are each other’s refuge of sheltering love at the end of every day, two halves of one whole soul.” He swallowed back the lump that gathered in his throat. “It is my honor to declare you as husband and wife.”

Clive reached out to cup his wife’s cheek as he pulled her close to kiss her, once, twice, longer this time, her arms wrapping around his neck as they gazed into each other’s eyes, unable to stop the tears of joy that now flowed from them. “I love you, Jill…” 

“I love you, Clive…” Jill whispered at his lips as they kissed again.

Clive pulled away for a moment, and saw the tears fall from Joshua, and Jote, from Uncle Byron as well. “Thank you, Joshua.” 

“You’re welcome, brother.” Joshua replied, with a smile, weaving his fingers with Jote’s. “Shall we head back and celebrate?”

“Yes.” Clive agreed as he turned back to his wife, his queen, and swept her off her feet in a bridal hold, her arms around his neck tightened slightly, a giggle leaving her as she said his name and began to walk back to the castle. “I’ve got you, my star.” He huffed into her hair.

Jill pressed her mouth to his. “My love…” She was officially his wife, he was her husband. While their wedding felt more grandiose, it couldn't have been more perfect. Even with the absence of aether, they could feel Shiva and Ifrit embrace for the first time since the Shadow Coast, and did not let go.

This was their last night of privacy for the next few weeks, and took advantage of not having to worry about guests at the table who would not appreciate their tales that were to be shared, laughing at Byron's terrible jokes and anecdotes. While they celebrated, even as the night grew late, both brothers danced with their wives until they could no longer.

You should be here, Elwin. Byron thought as he watched his nephews be at peace as married men, before he bid them a good evening.

When they began to settle, Clive and Joshua could not help themselves to discuss their strategy of what was to come now that the Crowning Ceremony was now their next challenge to overcome until Jill and Jote beckoned them to bed. 

“It appears this conversation will need to be held tomorrow.” Joshua said with a chuckle as Jote smoothed her arms around her husband’s shoulders, pressing a kiss behind his ear. “I will not keep you from the marriage bed any longer.”

Clive flashed his brother a grin. “That makes two of us.” He replied. “Good night.” He gave them a wave, wrapped his arms around Jill and escorted her to their rooms.

 

Clive and Jill took their time preparing for bed, Clive gently removing her crown, pulling out each pin in her silver hair, unlacing her gown; Jill undid each of the buttons on his uniform, fingers expertly unclasping his belt and pulling him towards the bed. Breathless giggles between them as they teased each other by exploiting their weak spots that only they knew about, until Clive picked Jill up and settled her onto the bed.

“Jill–” He breathed into her collar, adjusting himself for better access to her neck, to the spot behind her ear. “I don't want to hurt you…”

“I trust you, my love.” She said lightly. You won't hurt us , she didn't need to add before he claimed her.

Clive had taken his time, enjoyed every inch of her, every noise that left her and each gasp of his name; he couldn't get enough of her hands in his hair, the taste of her until they were both spent. When he was finished, he held Jill close, murmuring sweet nothings to the twins; a gentle smile on his face as they moved at his voice. 

She couldn't wait to see him hold them when they arrived, knowing that he would be an amazing father. Jill knew that he would always harbor some anxiety these coming weeks, and while he was doing his best not to let it show, she didn't say anything, knowing that he did it for her sake.

“I have one more vow for you…” Jill whispered, as his broad hand rested on the curve of her stomach. 

“Oh?” He raised a brow, sitting up slightly to look at his wife.

“These are the hands of your best friend, young and strong and full of love for you, that are holding yours on your wedding day.” She began to recite as her hand joined his. It was more of a prayer to Metia, but given how he had been brought back to him more than once due to her words to that crimson star, she couldn’t think of a better time. “As we promise to love each other today, tomorrow, and forever. These are the hands that will work alongside yours, as together we build our future.”

“May our union be forever blessed,” Clive finished as he pressed a kiss to her lips before kissing her middle, in lieu of kissing their children. “And may our children be healthy and strong.” He gazed into her storm grey eyes that he could get lost every day. 

“If they are anything like their father, they will be strong and gentle hearted.” Jill added.

“If they’re anything like their mother, they will have the kindest souls as well.” Clive countered. 

“The world could use a few more kinder souls these days.” Jill said quietly.

“They’ll come, my star. We just have to give it some time.” He replied into her hair as he laid down beside her, and pulled her flush against him.

Notes:

Cliji Wedding!🎉

Next on the docket, we've got the Crowning Ceremony, so stay tuned!✨

Thank you all for the comments and kudos! I appreciate them so much!💕

Chapter 19

Notes:

"It's Coronation Day!" and Jote makes a discovery.

Bit of a longer chapter, as it's mostly the Crowning Ceremony, but please enjoy.🎉

Jote thought it was just her nerves of the Crowning Ceremony that caused the waves of nausea to crash onto her the past couple days, the castle filled with visitors from all over Rosaria that sent her anxiety through the roof, many being ladies trying catch a glimpse of her, of the woman who married the Archduke, and thought nothing of it. At least until that morning, when she was struck again with it as Anya and Sarai were getting her dressed for said occasion, when the scent of perfume began to make her head spin, the corset that they had put her in suddenly felt too tight as they laced it. 

She was grateful for Joshua’s morning meeting that kept him away as she let the dizziness and unease that brought up breakfast pass, not wanting to bring any worry to him on the day of all days, and in her brief panic, she tried to remember when her last cycle was. She hadn’t stopped taking her contraceptive tonic while she was healing from her lashes, but Tarja had prescribed her a restorative after she made sure that anything that healer gave her was out of her system. She tried to remember the ingredient that Tarja had put in that restorative to ease the lethargic feeling Jote had when taking them, and while it helped her heal faster than usual, cross checking it with her contraceptive from her memory as she splashed her face with cool water when it hit her. 

While Joshua hadn’t touched her until the physicker gave her the all clear a few months ago, she was still on both tonics when they did eventually lay together as husband and wife; her last cycle perhaps a couple weeks beforehand, and she had been so busy assisting Joshua on their return to Rosalith that she never noticed that her following cycles never came. Which meant that Tarja unknowingly negated her contraceptive for that small period of time, and she herself didn’t realize it until now. Jote trusted her enough to take the restorative without question, and however, apparently not enough to tell her about the existing one she had already been taking. More of her mistake than Tarja's, and now her mind flooded with worry as she had still been taking her usual tonic, and had been sparring with Wade and Clive the last few days, but she hadn’t bled that would lead to any concern. The tonics were made to prevent pregnancy, though not strong enough to keep a child from taking root after the deed had been done. 

“My Lady? Are you alright?” Sarai asked as she knocked on the door.

“I’m fine.” Jote lied as she looked in the mirror but she didn't stop the faint smile that crept on her face. She was scared, but accepted this newfound truth. Joshua, as it appeared, was going to have an heir far sooner than she anticipated. 

 

Joshua thought he and his brother looked ridiculous with the amount of regalia that they wore. While his brother did not have nearly the same amount of silver, and gold pinned to him as he did, he was glad that he was not alone in looking like a pompous ass, dressed in Rosarian red.

“Don’t.” Clive started with a smirk. “Just don’t.” 

“Don’t what?” Joshua countered. “I didn’t say anything.” 

“You were thinking about it.” Clive chuckled as he rolled his shoulders. “I’ve heard enough from Jill already.” 

“I’m sure I’ll hear it from both her and Jote soon enough.” 

“Hear what?” Joshua looked behind Clive, to see Jill in a deep garnet gown, so different from her usual blue, with her own regalia of the Lady Marchioness, her silver hair styled similar to what it was a few days ago. She took in Joshua and stifled a laugh. “I apologize, Clive. It appears I spoke too soon.” Jill giggle, resting a hand on her stomach, the other weaving with Clive's.

“I'm not a fan of it either, Jill.” Joshua replied. “Thankfully, it's just for the day of keeping the High Houses happy. The sooner we're done, the sooner we can take all of this nonsense off.”

“I concur.” Jote agreed as she joined them in a gown of blood red, the hem and sleeves embroidered with phoenix feathers, matching Joshua with the gold that weighed them down. Not to mention her first time in a corset, and she was determined to make it her last.

“I can help with that, my beloved.” Joshua said playfully, pulling her close. Joshua could see the anxiety of the day ahead in her eyes, as well as something else, but he didn't press. He knew that the ladies of court had been relentless these last few days, and had been grateful for Jill's attempts to spirit his wife away from the court when she could.

“Your Grace.” Wade said with a salute and bow. “We’re ready for you.”

“Then into the fray we go, Your Grace.” Clive said to his brother. 

 

Through the crack between the double doors, Joshua could tell there were too many people in the throne room before him, factions of each of the High Houses sat with their lords with their house colors with their respective bannermen; a black banner with the Hideaway’s insignia joined them with Gav, Cole and the group of Cursebreakers who volunteered to work under the Duchy, Byron dressed in Rosarian red to represent what was left of the Rosfield line. Their father’s throne– Joshua’s throne, had been restored after being destroyed by Hugo Kupka nearly a year prior, Cyril standing before the dais to greet them. 

Joshua glanced back at his brother, at Jill, at Jote once more as just a man, before he swore his life to Rosaria. Clive gave him a nod of understanding, Jote a squeeze of her hand, Jill a gentle touch on his shoulder to remind him that he was not alone. He directed his attention to Wade, who waited for his order. “I’m ready.” 

“Very well, Your Grace.” Wade replied before the two shields pulled the doors open wide. “ALL RISE FOR HOUSE ROSFIELD!” Wade called into the hall, voices falling silent as those in attendance got to their feet; the Shields in their formal black, saluted.

Joshua took a deep breath, willed his face to be calm and stepped forward, and he barely could hear the banner song play as they walked to the dais, the ringing in his ears nearly deafening, his heart hammered in his chest. When he reached the throne, he turned around to find the eyes of everyone looking at him, at his wife, his brother and sister in law, and as the banner song concluded, he sat down, everyone else mirroring him and settled in their seats. 

A pregnant silence fell as the attention fell to Cyril, and the three hooded members of the Undying that held the remainder of the duchy’s crown jewels. “The Grand Duchy of Rosaria calls forth Joshua Rosfield, to take his place as rightful heir to the throne as Archduke.” The Burning Quill announced as he turned to Joshua. “Are you prepared to take the Oath of the Phoenix?” 

“I am.” Joshua replied. 

“Will you love all that is true and fair, and fight all falsehoods, lies and injustice, both with your sovereignty and with justice?” Cyril began.

“I will.” 

“Will you be true to your people, confirm to them their old rights and privileges, and not take away from anyone what is rightfully theirs, except after proper verdict of law?”

“I will.”

“Will you protect Rosaria to the best of your ability, so that when the time comes you will leave your successors a strong Duchy, as is their due?”

“I will.”

“Your Grace, great are the burdens of the Duchy; you cannot bear them alone. Who will share this burden and rule beside you as your consort?”

“She, who will forever be at my side, Jote Rosfield.” Joshua proclaimed confidently. There was a slight flicker of sadness in Cyril’s eyes as he said her married name. In his peripherals, he could see the disdain of some of the lords in the crowd at the declaration. 

“The Duchy is a weighty burden. As the Phoenix and Sovereign, you will stand highest in the sight of your people, but you must nonetheless take upon yourselves the heaviest burdens and the gravest responsibilities. You must at all times place the good of the Duchy before your own interests. You must be a source of strength and wisdom for your people. You must be foremost in valour upon the field of battle and gentlest in courtesy. You must foster the pursuits of peace and beauty as well as the arts of war. You must see that the scales of justice balance fairly for high and low alike. You must take counsel, make just laws and you must lead your people to prosperity. Knowing these things, do you still wish to take the crowns of Rosaria?”

“With the Firebird’s flames, we swear.” Both Jote and Joshua answered together.

Cyril turned to collect a gold circlet from one of the Undying Knights behind him, and settled it atop of Joshua’s head, before placing one on Jote’s. “Let it be known that Joshua Rosfield has been sworn in as Archduke and Sovereign of the Grand Duchy of Rosaria. Hail, House Rosfield!” 

“HAIL, HOUSE ROSFIELD!” The hall rejoiced in unison.

“Their Graces do hereby call Clive Rosfield and Jill Warrick before them, for they have fought greatly for Rosaria and Storm and we are to honour them.” Cyril declared to the hall. Clive and Jill rose to their feet, and stood before the dais, Joshua and Jote stood to greet them. Clive bowed at the waist before his brother, Jill in a curtsy, low as her condition would allow. 

“Rise, my lord, my lady.” Joshua said, giving them a moment to straighten. “In my absence, you both have shown great strength and bravery to fight for those who cannot protect themselves. A great battle of recognizing a threat to our world when the rest of us were too blind to acknowledge it. Such actions that have declared you both as outlaws for such an act, one that my predecessor would have supported. Do you deny these claims?”

“No, Your Grace.” Clive and Jill responded together. 

“Let it be known, that it is our wish to grant you both the Phoenix’s prerogative of mercy. Will you accept this from our hand?” Murmurs filled the crowd. It was not often that a ducal pardon was granted to an outlaw, let alone two. 

“We will, Your Grace.”

“With this pardon, it is our wish to reinstate the respective titles of Marquess and Marchioness to you. Will you accept this honour from our hand?”

“With the Blessing of the Phoenix, we do, Your Grace.” Clive and Jill answered. 

Clive lifted his head “Your Graces, in return, we wish to swear fealty to you.”  He expressed. Joshua knew that he and Jill had already done their oaths in private, but they were just pardoned, and would do so publicly to ease the discourse that the High Houses would have. Especially since their father’s reign ended in flames.

“Will you hold the Phoenix and my consort as your rightful Sovereigns, until the end of our lawful reign, and support our might and justice?” Joshua recited.

“We will.”

“Do you wish to give the Phoenix such counsel which is to the benefit of us and Rosaria, and support us in upholding the laws and fulfilling our oath?”

“We do.”

“And will you keep secret such matters as the Phoenix wants to keep in confidence, and not divulge such secrets that could harm the Duchy?”

“By the Firebird’s flames, we swear.”

“And We in turn promise to grant you, your households, and your heirs, all the rights and privileges of old, and to protect you with the Law of the Grand Duchy of Rosaria.”

“We thank you, for your kindness, Your Grace.” Jill said as she curtsied once more, Joshua giving her the permission to leave before she returned to her place beside Byron, as Clive remained before his brother. 

“Lord Commander Rosfield,” Joshua announced. “The Shields, and the Guardians of the Flame are now under your command and have sworn their oaths to the Duchy. Are there others who wish to serve in Rosaria?”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Clive agreed. He turned around to face those in attendance. “Let the Cursebreakers who are ready to swear their oaths of service come forward.” 

Once Clive finished, Cole, and his division rose to their feet and moved before the dais. He had warned Gav and the Cursebreakers of the risks that they faced once they were sworn in to be under the cover of the Duchy, but that they can rely on the help of the Guardians of the Flame and those who chose to remain at the Hideaway when liberating the Bearers that were still enslaved after the loss of magic.

“The Cursebreakers before you are ready to take the oath, Lord Commander.” Cole spoke, as all of them knelt before them.

“Do you swear on your honour to hold your oath to fight and protect those who cannot defend themselves, until the end of the Phoenix's lawful reign, and support their royal might and justice?” Clive asked.

“We swear.” They all answered together.

“Will you give them such obedience as is their due, obeying their commands in such matters as are theirs to command?”

“We will.”

“Will you be true officers of the Duchy, while also discharging your duties to the best of your ability?”

“We will.”

“And they in turn promise to support you all with their royal power and justice. Do you accept this from our hands?”

“We accept, Lord Commander.” Cole conveyed as they stood, gave a bow towards the dais until they were dismissed. 

Clive watched the Cursebreakers return to their places before he took his post at Joshua’s side, Cyril calling the Houses forward to swear their fealty to the newly crowned Archduke and consort. Uncle Byron, Lord Hammond, Lord and Lady Ashburn, Dowager Lady Westmore, Lord Magnesson, Lord Casseldyne, and lastly, Lord Brisbane, offering their men, and their households to anything the Duchy may require; their oaths of fealty either done in full confidence of the truth, or half a lie, just to keep up appearances. Whether Joshua saw through the lies, his brother made no indication, though he had no doubt they would discuss it later to try who to look out for. This was just the beginning of a long journey ahead of them.

“Long live the Phoenix!” Cyril called as all oaths had been concluded. 

“Long live the Phoenix! Long live Rosaria!” The hall erupted. “Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!”

 

Jote never felt so pleased to see their rooms after the Ceremony and the banquet that followed to celebrate, to finally have a moment to themselves that was not in the company of others. While she had been at Joshua’s side for the majority of the day, while it gave her the opportunity to speak to the Lords and Ladies of the High Houses, to meet their daughters that they clearly had groomed to be the Archduke’s wife, she could not wait until they retired for the night. To be free from their venomous stares.

“You did wonderful today, my lady.” Joshua murmured as he unceremoniously took off the heavy regalia on his shoulders, before seizing her by the waist and stole her into a dance with the faint music that could still be heard from downstairs. 

“As did you, Your Grace.” Jote said with a giggle at his lips as she leaned in to kiss him, as she wrapped her arms around him. 

“Thank you for braving the wolves with me.” He whispered as they swayed, taking his time to take off her own regalia. 

“I have faced Hell, and I will face it again for you, my beloved.” She replied. “Now that we’re alone, I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?” Joshua searched her eyes for that hint of fear that he saw earlier, but found resolve instead.

She took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”

“Wh-what?” Joshua pulled away slightly. “When did you stop taking your tonic?”

“I– I didn't.” She started. “I may have forgotten that one of the ingredients of the restorative from Tarja negated what I was already taking, so… so when… when we…” She trailed off, seeing her husband still as a statue, in complete, utter shock. “Joshua…?” Her voice turned quiet. “Joshua, say something…”

“Are you for certain?” He asked. “Without doubt?”

“Yes.” She answered. “You’re mad, aren’t you?”

Joshua’s mouth curved into a smile, his eyes lined in silver. “Mad? Jote, how can I be mad?” He said as he kissed her deeply before picking her up. “This is wonderful news, my darling.” 

“Consider it an early Solstice gift, Joshua…” Jote giggled softly. 

“For both of us.” Joshua huffed a laugh. “Now, shall I free you from that corset?” 

“Yes, please.”

Notes:

Joshua is officially crowned as Archduke, with Jote at his side.✨

As the great Bob Ross once said, there are no mistakes, only happy accidents. A happy accident that is already loved by their parents. 💕

I can't believe that's it's been a month since I started posting this fic and I want thank you all again for coming on this journey with me and leaving all the comments and kudos! You guys are amazing!! 🥰

Chapter 20

Notes:

Bit of a longer chapter, but the pieces of Joshua's game with the High Houses begins to move, and newcomers arrive in time for Solstice.

 

**Content Warning for those who may find the birth scene a bit traumatic**

A set of keys to the castle went missing the week before Solstice, and Lady Marleigh was the first to bring it to Joshua and Clive's attention, when no one under her charge came clean to the theft. “Thank you, Lady Marleigh. We will see to it that a full investigation is conducted.” Joshua answered, as she finished setting up the tea that he requested. 

“Thank you, Your Grace, my Lord. I’ll make sure that the servants are compliant with anything that you may need.” She said lastly to the both of them, curtsying deeply before leaving the study. 

The study fell quiet, save from the cackling of the fire in the hearth. “Not the news I was expecting this morning.” Clive broke the silence darkly. 

“No, it is not.” Joshua replied into his cup before setting it back on its saucer.

“I’ll increase the rotations in the guard, and work with Wade in the investigation.” Clive countered. Joshua had been crowned Archduke for little over a month, and it's never a good thing when a set of keys are stolen, meaning pieces in Joshua’s imaginary game of chess with the High Houses have begun to move. “Some may think it would be a menace to fuss over stolen keys, but if they are in the hands of anyone who means any of us harm, then we must be careful.” 

“I agree, but Jill is due any day. I don’t think she would forgive me if I kept you from her because of this.” Joshua countered. 

“What would you have me do? Jill will understand if I need to return to my post sooner than this, especially if this becomes more than a set of stolen keys.” 

“You can remain with the investigation until the twins come, and then I want you to be with Jill and your children until I find that she and the twins are okay for you to return to your duties.” His brother put it plainly. “Should I truly need you during that time, then I'll be the one to beg Jill for mercy.” 

“Then I’ll begin those preparations immediately.” Clive relented, a sigh of surrender leaving him. His brother did have a point, and knew Jill would prefer to have him at her side. He had sent a missive with Gav during his visit a sennight ago requesting Tarja to come to Rosalith, upon realizing that Jill was not even entertaining the idea of him missing the birth of their children, even if it meant having them in the safety of the Hideaway. 

“I trust Lady Tarja was able to get settled to her guest rooms yesterday?” 

“Yes, she was.” Clive recalled. “Already laying down the law with Lady Margarette in the infirmary.” 

“That’s good to hear.” Joshua’s pen etched his signature on the last piece of parchment on his desk, the last of his orders before the Solstice. After today, there were no meetings with the lords of the High Houses, or council with the Undying until after the new year. Both Jill and Jote were thankful that their weekly tea with the ladies of the High Houses were not to resume until after the holiday as well. “Lady Margarette is well skilled, but I feel better knowing that Tarja is here to help, especially since Jill is still seeing effects from the curse.”

“As do I.” Clive said quietly. “You mentioned that you had something to tell me this morning, before Lady Marleigh brought her matter to light.” 

“Ahh, yes.” He answered, leaning back in his chair. “Since we are on the topic of children. It appears that you are going to be an uncle sooner than we thought, Clive.” He whispered.

“Jote’s with child?” Clive asked in equal quiet, elated. By the Flames, his brother was going to be a father. “I thought she was still on her tonics.”

“Yeah, she was.” Joshua huffed a small laugh, a smile gracing his face. “A slight miscalculation on our part, but we are excited for the baby, nonetheless.” They planned to keep the pregnancy to themselves, at least until there was absolutely no doubt that they had a child on the way and could no longer hide it. He had already received some backlash from Lords Ashburn, Casseldyne, and Magnesson for marrying Jote, conveying their frustrations of finding other potential suitors for their daughters, and he feared what they would do if they found out that there was an heir on the way. They kept many secrets from the court. What was one more?  

“That explains her not wanting to spar as of late.” Clive chuckled. “I thought it was at the demand of the High Houses to do so.”

“Yes. And no. They had expressed concern, but they have not said as such of her activities outside her own duties within the castle. Even if they did, I am not Jote’s keeper, so she is free to do as she pleases. Which is why we have elected to tell only you and Jill for the time being. However, you will be pleased to know that it was not because of them that caused her to stop.”

“Founder, my congratulations to both of you.” 

“Jote’s Solstice gift to me. One of them, at least, according to her.” His brother's grin widened. 

“Rosalith could use some children running around these halls again, I think.”

“I think so too.” Joshua said. “But we will need to make sure that the castle is safe for them first.” 

“I agree. Now who should go tell Jill and Jote, me or you?” Clive chuckled. Joshua’s responding smirk was all he needed. 

 

Jill and Jote had elected to retreat to the library, rather than their usual walk around the gardens due to the snow storm that had rolled in overnight, and since Jill hadn't been feeling well the last few nights; Torgal was curled up at his mistress’s side, either by Clive's order or his own volition, ready to scare off anyone who dared to keep them from enjoying their quiet reprieve from the court due to the Solstice.

Since their husbands warned them of the possibility of a spy, Jote had spent the last few weeks teaching Jill on how to sign in lieu of speaking so they could not be overheard in their conversations. Signing, a common language for those of the Undying while assigned in the Archives, especially for those who had taken a vow of silence; a skill that Jote had found useful with Joshua during their travels more than she could count. Ever since they encountered a couple nosey servants, they had relied on the silent language as a precaution until they could find out who may be smuggling information outside of their private conversations, should unwanted ears be nearby to listen when they were alone.

“I thought I might find you two here.” Joshua said quietly as he peeked around the bookshelf that hid them, his wife peering up from her book. “I pray that I’m not interrupting.”

Jill looked up from her needlework at her brother in law’s voice, noting Clive’s familiar footfalls weren’t behind him. “If Torgal isn’t chasing you out, you’re not disturbing us at all.” She replied, the hound raising his head slightly at his name being called as she reached to scratch him behind his ears before he returned to his place of resting his head on her thigh. 

“Come to join us?” Jote murmured as Joshua sat on the arm of the loveseat that she occupied. 

“Tempting as that may be, my darling, I promised Clive that I would assist him in an inquiry of mine.” Joshua kissed the back of Jote’s hand. “Taking the day to relax, I see.” 

“Yes, we are.” Jote answered. She didn't need to be as far along as Jill to see that her sister in law was uncomfortable and exhausted. She knew that Clive had gone with Jill to see Tarja last night, since she thought that her labors had started yesterday morning but appeared to be a false alarm. To err on the side of caution, Jote had taken her to the library to rest for the day.

“Hopefully you two can take a day to rest as well. Both you and Clive have been working non-stop since the Crowning Ceremony.” Jill gave him a tired smile, before it faltered slightly at the sharp cramp that laced up her spine. 

“Now that court has left for the holiday, we’ll be able to take a much needed break…” Joshua faded. “I just finished signing the last of the orders that have been flooding my desk since we arrived, so we’ll see our reprieve as well.”

“Thank the Founder for that.” Jote said, noting the discomfort that twisted in Jill’s face. “Jill? Are you alright?”

“I–” Jill winced, waiting for the pain to ease up. “I’m fine…” 

Joshua, and Jote read the lie, Torgal whined as he set his head on her middle, the three of them knowing that she was not fine. “Shall we get Tarja?” 

Jill’s lips parted to answer, only to let out a sharp intake of breath. “I think it would be a good idea to let Clive know that it may be time.”  Jill said through the shake in her voice.

Jote cast her book aside to go to Jill’s side. “I’ll get her to Tarja. Find Clive.” 

“On it.” He called as he bolted towards the door to go locate his brother. 

 

Clive’s heart raced in his chest as he and Joshua rushed to the infirmary, Torgal sitting patiently at the door, whining at the sound of Jill’s pain-filled cries on the other side. He looked up at Clive, as if expecting to be let in. “Sorry boy, you have to stay out here…” Torgal let out a growl in disappointment. “It's okay. She's going to be okay…”

“I’ll keep him company, Clive. Go.” Joshua said as he brushed his fingers through the wolf’s fur as his brother walked in, shutting the door behind him.

“My Lord Marquess, you should not be in here–” Lady Margarette said as she saw him enter, searching for his wife. “We’ll let you know when they have arrived.”

“Lady Margarette– It’s– It’s okay…” Jill managed behind her between breaths. “I want him here–” 

The older woman bit her tongue and with hesitation, she stepped aside, letting Clive pass to find Jill in her shift, leaning over the bed, Jote pulling her silver hair off her neck while Tarja checked her progress. 

“I’m here, my star. I’m here…” Clive said as he met Tarja’s eyes, and the gaze froze him in his tracks. “I guess it wasn’t a false alarm, was it?” 

“It appears not, but we still have a long day ahead of us.” Tarja said. “Her waters just broke, so your job is to keep her calm, focused, and morale up, understood?”

“On my word.” Clive answered. He knew that he was lucky to be allowed in here, and could be kicked out just as easily if he didn't follow those orders.

“Clive?” Jill moaned as she held her hand out for him without even looking up at him. He weaved his fingers with hers, pressing a kiss to her temple. 

“I’m here.” He murmured into her hair, her grip on his hand tightened. It was indeed going to be a long night. 

 

“That's it, Jill!” Tarja encouraged her as she fell back against Clive to catch her breath. “Almost there, almost there.” 

Clive hadn't seen this much blood in one place that wasn't a battlefield, then again his wife was fighting a different kind of battle as she bore down and let out a war cry only to turn into a gasp of relief as they were met with the screaming wail to a dark haired baby as he made his entrance into this world. 

“Clive–” Jill rasped, there was a hint of panic in the shake in her voice.

“You’re okay, my star. You’re okay.” Clive murmured softly as he watched Jote and Margarette take the baby from Tarja to clean him up. “A boy…We have a son, Jill…” He added into her hair, wiping the sweat from her forehead. 

“I want to see him…” Jill groaned as the baby’s cries died down. 

“We will.” Clive reassured her as Tarja gave him a nod. He could feel Jill's body tense up, her hands finding his again. “We will, we're almost done.” 

“Ready when you are, Jill.” Tarja said as she smoothed a hand on Jill's knee. “You can do this, just a bit more and you'll be done.” 

Jill lifted her head, took a shuddering breath, and the cycle began again. 

 

Clive thought he knew fear before, at least until Jill leaned against him limply, and they were greeted with silence. 

“Tarja?” Jill’s voice was hoarse as they waited on baited breath to hear their second son's cry. There was anxiety in her voice that resonated deep within Clive’s deepest nightmares. If the physicker had an ounce of worry on her face, she did not show it as she worked quickly.

“Come on, little one…” Tarja murmured as she cleared his airway, and rubbed his back, anything to breathe life into the baby in her arms. A twitch of their silver haired son’s arm made Clive’s heart leap to his throat, and just when he began to think the worst, he heard the most beautiful thing he'd ever listened to, both of them loosening a breath that could have been a sob. Tarja smiled as she settled the screaming boy on Jill's chest. “There we go. We just have to wait for the afterbirth, so just try to relax, alright?” 

Jill gave Tarja a nod as tears of joy began to fall. “I’m so proud of you, my star…” She heard Clive whisper, pressing a lips to her temple as he wrapped his arms around her and their son. She felt dizzy, suddenly cold, the small boosts of adrenaline she had received had long since faded, but she focused on the fading cries of the baby on her chest, her husband’s sweet nothings in her ear, his warmth behind her to stay awake. “Stay with me, Jill…” Clive said, just loud enough for her to hear. “Jill…?” His voice with slight concern when she didn’t answer.

“I’m alright…” Jill tried not to look at the blood that pooled before her, that covered her thighs. Blood usually didn’t bother her, but there was panic crawling up her throat as the shock began to set in. “Clive–”

“Jill, look at me… Don’t look at that, focus on me.” Clive said, gently tilting her head slightly so she could lock eyes with him. He shifted his gaze for a moment to give permission for Jote to take his second son to clean him up. “My star, my treasure. Stay with me.” 

“My love…” She rasped, wincing at the passing flash of pain. “My life… My everything…” She focused on the blue of his eyes, while there was a hint of worry, one blink and it was gone. He brushed the tears from her eyes, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and his gentle smile matched hers. Jill leaned her head against his chest, and closed her eyes for a moment, but when she opened them, she found herself propped against pillows in her own bed, the dark room lit by a few candles, and the dying fire in the hearth. Her head felt heavy as she searched the room to find her husband in the chair, two bundles on his chest. “Clive…” Jill exhaled and his attention was directed immediately to her, his eyes lighting up, that gentle smile returning to his face as he carefully moved to the bed and sat beside her. 

Clive placed a pillow on his lap, settled the twins down on it, leaned in for a kiss, before pressing a hand to her forehead to check for fever, and was relieved to find none. “How do you feel?”

“Sore, but I can manage…” She replied as she rested her head on his shoulder, and admired the boys before them. “What happened…?” She dared to inquire.

“What do you remember?” He countered.

She shook her head. “I remember seeing the blood… Then you told me to focus on you instead… I remember closing my eyes, but that’s it…”

Clive kissed her temple. “Tarja said that you went into shock.” Jill had fallen half conscious, and he felt helpless hearing her in pain as Tarja and Jote worked to keep her from bleeding out. The moment she fully fell under in his arms, he nearly panicked, to the point that Tarja almost ejected him from his wife's side, at least until Jote convinced him to step away to assist Lady Margarette with his newborn sons. “I was only given clearance to take you up here a few hours ago. Jote figured that you might heal better in your own bed. Though, Tarja’s going to be a constant face for a little while.”

“I can’t argue with that.” Jill took a deep breath as she directed her attention to the babies asleep before them. “By the Flames, they’re so beautiful…” She murmured, reaching out to touch them. “And so small…” 

“Yes, they are…” Clive said quietly. “At least we can tell them apart…” He added with a soft laugh, his hand smoothing over their heads.

Jill giggled. Just seeing them here, to see them healthy, to see Clive care for them, made it all worth it. “Has Joshua seen them yet?” 

“No. He said it felt wrong of him to see them before you did. Torgal was in a worried state about you so Joshua took him to break the news to Uncle Byron.” He answered.

Silence fell between them, and she took in her sons more clearly. They both looked like their father, but while one boy inherited his father’s dark hair, the other had her silver. “We should probably name them soon…” 

“I have a few ideas, but we don’t have to worry about that right now. It’s been a long day for you.” Clive reassured her as the bells rang twice, indicating two hours past midnight. Clive wrapped his arm around her. “I can keep an eye on them for a bit longer if you want to get some more rest.”

“I’ll be alright, my love.” She murmured. “Can we stay like this for a bit…?”

“We can stay like this for as long as you like, my star…” Clive said into her hair. “We’re not going anywhere…”

Notes:

The twins have arrived and a spy has made their move.

I'm going to apologize now, but be prepared to jump back on the pain train for the next couple chapters.

For those who have left kudos and comments, I love you guys! 💕

Chapter 21

Notes:

In which a spy has consequences.

Another long chapter, so strap in for a small trip of pain.

 

**Content warning for the end of this chapter, so please read with caution if you are sensitive with the subject of miscarriages. I did update in the tags as well.**

A servant waited in the shadows of an agreed meeting place the evening after the announcement of the birth of the Archduke’s twin nephews, Kyren and Arian Rosfield, and shivered at the bitter cold that froze her to the bone. Her heart pounded hard in her chest at the silence in the dark until she heard approaching footsteps. She was already on edge, having nicked a set of keys from Lady Marleigh to do her lady’s bidding, and already lied to the Lord Marquess, the Archduke and Sir Wade about them. 

“Omelie.” The hooded figure said darkly. 

“My– My Lady Madilynne.” Omelie stammered.

“Stupid girl, don’t use my name. Or it would spell ruin for both of us.” Madilynne snapped with a barbed tongue at the servant girl before her. “What have you found out about the woman that the Archduke has married?” 

“From what has been said around the castle, if the rumors are true, is that she is of the Undying, commonborn, and she was an unmarked Bearer that spars with the Lord Marquess, my lady…” Omelie said quietly. The Archduchess had been a secretive woman, and even her ladies of the bedchamber have proved difficult to speak to try to get any details that would prove to be worthy of her lady’s time. Whatever she did discover had been in passing from other servants, whispers from the members of court, but very rarely from the Archduke, the Lord Marquess or either of their wives, not to mention the large wolf that always accompanied them always made her nervous.

“I don’t want rumors, or gossip. I want the truth.” The woman spat at her. The High Houses had brides prepared, herself included. None of which were training in combat, as that was not a skill that a highborn lady would have. What made this woman worthy of being the Archduke’s wife? She asked herself. “I want you to tell me if you receive any word of an heir on the way. If she is of common blood, or worse, a former Bearer, we can’t have her sully the bloodline of the Phoenix any further than it already has.” The Lord Marquess had already married that Northern savage that they crowned Marchioness and spawned two heathens together. Such a shame, but as her father said after the banquet of the Crowning Ceremony, it couldn’t be helped with the elder of the Rosfield Brothers. If they could persuade the Archduke to their favor, then it would be a success for any of the Houses. “If she is, you will find a way for her to be rid of it.”  

“But–” The servant girl's eyes widened, a hand unconsciously going to her throat. That would find herself losing her head without a doubt.

“But nothing.” Madilynne interrupted. “Make him cast her aside. If there is no heir from her, she is no longer beneficial to him. If you don’t, I’ll do it myself.” She added sharply as she shoved the servant back. She would do her best to win him to her favor in the meantime when court was to resume. “Do not fail me, or you will lose more than your head.” 

“Y-yes, my lady.” The servant stuttered as she watched her mistress disappear into the early morning fog. She lingered a moment longer before hearing the bells indicating the shift change of the guard, quickly making her way back to the castle behind her.

 

Jote laid wide awake, alert, and unable to shake the feeling of being watched, a feeling she had not had since their travels when staying in shady inns, or when they were being stalked by Royalists. Her intuition screamed at her, the shadows in her room with the dying fire that nearly triggered her fight or flight response, but when she would do her rounds to check each nook and cranny, she found her rooms empty, save for herself. That was one of the reasons she hated staying in her own rooms, alone. She had elected to stay in her respective rooms while they had guests in the castle, to appease the demands of the High Houses, but she hated not being able to sleep, hated the feeling of being on a knife’s edge when she tried to rest.

It wasn't until she heard the first hour bell that she decided that she no longer felt comfortable in her bed, even with her dagger that she kept under pillow. Anya and Sarai understood well enough why she had kept it with her lately, Lady Marleigh as well, and knew she wasn't alone as Jill had told her that Clive still kept one within reach while he was asleep. Jote smoothed a hand over the gentle swell of her stomach, wondering if she was overexaggerating, her heightened emotions from carrying Joshua’s child that made her wonder if it was just her mind playing tricks on her. She pulled on the robe that her ladies left her, tucking her beloved blade in her sleeve, then retreating into the dark moonlit hall, giving the guard at her door a nod before quickly, and quietly moving to Joshua's rooms.

Jote was relieved as she shut the door behind her, and took a moment to lean against it to finally breathe, to finally shed that sense of eyes on her. When she approached the bed, she found it cold, and empty, instead, she found a lone candle still burned on Joshua’s desk, and her husband’s sleeping form rested on it, quill forgotten in his hand. Considering the pages of parchment splayed unceremoniously underneath him, he was likely making revisions to the manuscript that he and his brother were working together on. 

She smoothed a hand on his back, and Joshua jolted awake. “I’m sorry, my beloved…” Jote pulled away slightly. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” She murmured softly. 

“No, it’s alright.” He mused, rubbing the back of his neck as he sat up. “I’m grateful that you did.” He took note of the dark room, and remembered that Jote had gone to her own rooms for the night. “Is something the matter?”

Jote shook her head. “No, but I couldn’t sleep. I kept feeling like I was being watched, however when I searched my chambers, I found no one. I didn’t feel safe being alone there anymore so I came here.” 

“Should I wake the remaining Shields to conduct a search?” Joshua’s face turned to concern. 

Jote considered it, but she shook her head again. “It may just be my intuition being out of balance.” 

“Are you sure?” His wife nodded. “I’ll have a search done in the morning… I’ll also ask Clive and Jill if they have felt something similar.”

“Thank you…” 

“Come, you look exhausted, my darling.” Joshua beckoned, blowing out the candle at his desk after wrapping his arm around her waist, guiding her to his bed. Jote’s intuition was often correct, so if she didn’t feel safe to stay in her rooms, there was likely a very good reason for her to come to him. All the more reason for her to stay with him now, even if the High Houses did not approve. He had commended her in the attempt to try to sleep in their respective rooms, but now, he didn’t want her to. They still hadn’t found the thief of the keys, and Joshua was certainly convinced that someone of ill intent did indeed have them, and they were using them to spy on her. He watched Jote shed her robe, tucked her dagger beneath her pillow and crawled underneath the covers, before pulling her close, feeling the tense muscles of her body loosen at his touch as she finally fell asleep.

 

The following morning, Joshua ordered a full sweep of the castle for any signs of infiltration, much to the annoyance of the court that had returned these weeks after the Winter Solstice, in full preparation to celebrate Joshua’s nameday. It didn’t take much convincing for Clive to believe his sister and personally searched the Archduchess’ rooms, and questioned the Shields and servants that worked the night prior that would have given them anything to prove that if anyone had been in Jote’s rooms, and came up empty handed. 

Once Clive announced the all clear, Rosalith had become lively again, and the banquet being held that evening did nothing for her already heightened nerves; the wolves Jote had braved during the Crowning Ceremony had come back hungrier, feral even when she had to entertain the ladies herself while Joshua saw to matters with the lords. 

“Don’t take this as a misjudgment of your intuition, Jote.” Clive said to Jote as he finished his search. “You sensed something off, and took the initiative to seek somewhere safe for yourself. Should you still sense it again, even when you are with company, raise the alarm.” 

“Thank you, Clive.” Jote replied with a stiff smile. “I will.” 

Her brother in law mirrored her smile. “Joshua’s busy putting out the fires with the lords before tonight. I trust you’ll be alright while I meet with him?”

“Yes. I think I will make myself scarce until the banquet. Is Jill in the nursery with the twins?” 

“She is.” Clive chuckled softly. “You and her are of the same mind.” 

“You have my gratitude.” Jote answered, giving him a short hug, before they went their separate ways. 

 

Jote found Jill in the nursery and had walked in on her nephews giggling, Torgal laying beside her, tail wagging as the hound focused on his new charges . “How’re my nephews?” She asked after she knocked softly on the door. 

“They’ve been doing well.” Jill's smile faltered as she looked up to see her sister in the doorway. “You look like you barely slept.” 

“I’m sure Clive told you.” Jote sat down beside her and hugged her tightly. 

“He did. Are you alright?” Jill asked into Jote’s shoulder.

“I still feel on edge, but for the most part, yes, I’m alright.” She replied, as they separated. She didn’t realize that she missed Jill’s company when court resumed two fortnights ago, and she has had to suffer the company of Lord and Lady Ashburn's daughter, Lady Madilynne instead. Two years her senior, whose verbal poison rivaled her husband’s late mother. She loathed the woman, but she had no doubt that the feeling was mutual, even though they did not publicly show it. “I think I’ll feel better once Joshua’s nameday banquet is over, and these next court meetings are concluded for the month.” She added quietly. “ Then I can focus on our little one. ” She quickly signed to keep that part private. 

“ You're still in that delicate time too. Any additional stress wouldn't do either of you any favors. ” She signed back. “I’m concerned that this is some ploy from the High Houses to flush you out.”

“I know. That's what I'm worried about too.” Jote said quietly. She was safe as his wife, and Archduchess, and Cyril had reminded her personally that she still retained her status as a Knight, but how far did that protection go? Especially now that she carried Joshua’s heir. “I heard that they’ve been on Joshua and Clive to have you return to court.”

“They have been demanding me back to court for nearly a fortnight and a half, but I know that there is only so much that they can do to keep them at bay.” Jill said. Most ladies of the court would have shoved their newborns into the arms of a nursemaid the first chance they got. “They should count themselves lucky that I agreed to return for the banquet tonight.” 

“Is Kaia going to watch the boys?” Jote asked, referring to one of the ladies that Jill knew from Drustanus. 

“Yes, she is.” While they trusted the nine ladies that came with Lady Marleigh, they had to thoroughly question Kaia since she agreed to care for the twins while Jill would be at court. “And Torgal’s going to be a good boy and help, aren’t you?” The hound huffed with a grin as he looked up at his mistress before returning to his gaze to the babies, nudging his nose at the silver haired boy, Arian, a quiet laugh escaping him. Kyren, his black haired twin, followed suit. 

“I think they’ll be alright just fine in their care, Jill.” Jote smiled at her nephews. 

“Yes they will.” Jill answered.

 

“You want to announce my heir tonight?” Joshua asked, just loud enough over the music as he and Jote danced after dinner. “Do you think that's wise?”

“ Our heir,” Jote corrected. “And why not? It may keep the Houses from pushing their brides towards you in attempts to have you reconsider our union.” Joshua looked into her eyes. She had a point, while she had been grateful that they've kept their child a secret for this long, she wondered if it would be enough to shut them up for good. “It's your nameday banquet, my beloved.” She surrendered. 

“If you feel like the time is right, then I will trust your judgement, my darling.” Joshua murmured softly. “Did I mention that you look beautiful this evening, my lady.” 

Color flooded her face. “Thank you, Your Grace. One could say the same to you.” Jote replied as he spun her around, her shirts flying with her.

Emerald had always looked lovely on her, especially that dark shade that was a sister to the deep sapphire velvet that Jill wore. His brother had settled with his formal black, but there was no avoiding the scarlet garments that he donned that evening.

“You flatter me, Jote.” Joshua said as the dance ended, giving his wife a bow, her responding with a curtsy, and a smile on her face. 

“You’d be saying differently if it was anyone else, I’m sure–” She began before they were interrupted. 

“Your Graces,” Lord Ashburn greeted them, his daughter beside him, in a striking shade of crimson, her considerable assets on display. “I believe you are acquainted with my daughter, Madilynne.” 

“Yes, we have met on several occasions.” Jote feigned a smile. Her father was either not aware of her many unceremonious advances that Joshua has already had to decline in the recent weeks, or encouraged them. Considering that he allowed her to leave their residence in such a dress already answered Jote’s question for her. 

“Your Grace.” Madilynne curtsied low before Joshua. “Would you like to be my partner for this next dance? If your wife permits it?” 

Joshua looked at Jote for a moment, a subtle nod from her gave him the answer he needed. “It would be my honor, Lady Madilynne.” He said, hiding the disdain in his voice as he held his arm out for her, she took it without another beat, whisking him back onto the dance floor. 

“Care for a drink, Your Grace? You must be parched from all that dancing.” Lord Ashburn asked her once they were alone. 

“You are too kind, my lord. I am not one for spirits, so I must decline.” Jote lied. 

“I see,” Ashburn snapped his fingers, and a servant girl approached them. Jote recognized her as being one of the servants that had been seen following her and Jill as of late, but said nothing as he took both crystal flutes from her tray and offered one to her. “But it's bad luck to toast with an empty glass, is it not?”

“Indeed it is.” Jote reluctantly smiled, and took it. 

“May you and the Archduke have a fruitful marriage, Your Grace.” He said, raising his glass and drinking deeply from the sparkling wine. 

“Thank you, my lord.” Jote widened her smile slightly, and sipped at her wine, returning the gesture of the Lord before her. She didn't miss the meaning of his words either, however against her better judgement, she accepted the suspicious comment as Lord Ashburn gave her a bow at the waist before rejoining the festivities. 

“Jote,” Clive said behind her. “May I have this dance?” 

“I figured you would be with Jill.” She countered. 

“It appears that my wife is dancing with my Uncle.” Clive responded, offering a hand to her. “Consider this a rescue from having to make any additional small talk with anyone else.”

“I am grateful for it, Clive.” She smiled and dared another mouthful of the sparkling wine and set it on a passing servant’s tray before taking her brother-in-law's hand. After a dance with Clive and another with Uncle Byron, Jote had reached for another glass of wine before returning to Joshua when a splitting headache struck her with no warning, and anxiety began to spiral as she started to have the taste of almonds at the back of her tongue.  

“Are you quite well, Your Grace?” Lady Madilynne asked coyly behind her fan, a venomous smile on her painted lips. “You look pale.”

“Yes. I believe I need some fresh air.” Jote forced herself to speak, though every warning bell in her mind was going off. “Please excuse me.” She managed, setting the glass back down on the table before retreating towards the snow covered gardens. 

Founder, the wine. Her wine was spiked, that familiar taste of taking Loreiliah’s Kiss now flooding her mouth as it ran its course. She had a tolerance to most poisons, her training with the Undying had ensured that, but her unborn child did not. Judging by the sharp pain that stabbed her through her middle and pounding at her temples, Jote knew she was too late. She didn’t need to see what ran down her legs to know what stained the hem of her dark emerald gown black, leaving a trail of red behind her.

Jote barely registered the chill of the Rosarian winter evening as she swayed, and staggered before she tried to balance herself against one of the trees in the garden, her vision blurred with encroaching black and flooded with tears. Her breathing hitched, it clouded heavily before her as another serrated stab forced her to her knees, a choked sob leaving her as she clawed at the heavy necklace at her neck until it snapped, anything to allow her to breathe as the panic tightened its cold fingers around her throat. She wrapped her arms around herself, silently begging the Founder and the Phoenix for the pain to stop. 

“Jote–” She barely heard someone, Clive, call her name over the ringing in her ears, the ringing of the bell tower. She willed herself to look up, concern and worry swirled in that familiar cerulean gaze as they approached her. She squeezed her eyes shut as the drumming in her head got worse, a sickening amount of warmth pooled around her with a final twisting affliction to her lower stomach; Jote's cry was silenced as the darkness claimed her.

Notes:

Alright, I'm done torturing Jote and Joshua. I have plans for Jote when she discovers that her feelings for Lady Madilynne is something more than the mutual hatred they have for each other, and put her in her place, while Joshua handles Lord Ashburn.

We will have a Shuate baby, but we're going to give them some time first.🥺

Thank you all for those who have stayed with me so far. There is a light at the end of the tunnel.☺️

Chapter 22

Notes:

“So a fiend has indeed sent a spy…”

“Yes, and Jote was the one who paid the price for it…”

“Jote!” Jill cried out as she watched Jote’s body fall limp into the bloody snow, finding herself running to her sister. “Jote–” She rasped. “Clive, she’s still breathing…”

“By the Flames–” Clive cursed as he pulled Jote into his arms, catching the faint odor of almonds on her breath. “She’s been poisoned.”

“You have to get her to Lady Margarette. Now.” She hated saying it, but Tarja was not here.

“I will, I need you find Wade and order him to lockdown the castle, no one is to leave. Then find Joshua and have him meet us in the infirmary. Inform Byron, and no one else.”

“Byron and I will handle the guests in the meantime.” Jill said, willing to hide the panic in her face. 

“Go.” Clive said firmly, Jill grabbing her sapphire skirts, snow crunching under her shoes as she ran back inside to find Wade, and he found the nearest servant’s entrance to sneak Jote back into the castle. “Hang on, Jote. Hang on.” 

 

Joshua searched the crowd as the eleventh bell rang, a glass of wine in his hand, and the music fell quiet as he prepared for his speech. “Ladies, and Gentlemen, thank you all for coming to this occasion to celebrate my nameday.” He began, scanning the sea of faces for Jote, but he didn’t see her. He hated the thought of announcing their child without her. Then again, he didn’t find his brother either. “My wife and I have an announcement…” He faltered as he found Jill speaking with Byron, and there was no mistaking the look in her stormy grey gaze as she locked eyes with him. Something was wrong, as the shields that were in the room had suddenly gone alert. 

“Meet Clive in the infirmary. It’s Jote.” Jill signed to him, and Joshua’s heart stopped. “ Go. Now.” 

“Forgive me.” Joshua ignored the outbursts of his guests as he ran from the hall, Jill meeting him. “What happened?” He asked quietly. 

“I don’t know, but Joshua, please go–” Jill pleaded, Byron already speaking to distract the guests in the hall. 

“Founder–” The panic in her voice spoke volumes, that had him running towards the infirmary, and unceremoniously bursting through the doors. “Clive! Where’s–” He stopped in his tracks to see his wife unconscious. “Jote…” He finished, the breath from his lungs stolen from him as he took in the blood that soaked her skirts. 

“Joshua.” Clive started, approaching his brother slowly. 

“Did you see what happened?” Joshua growled. 

“No. I’m suspecting foul play, Joshua,” Clive began to explain. “And no one is leaving this castle until we find out who did this. Wade has the shields locking down the castle as we speak.”

“Who did this to her?!” He shouted, his voice shook with panic. Curse the founder, he was away from her side for a few moments. 

“I don’t know, but I am determined to find out!” Clive argued. 

“Can you promise me that, Lord Commander ?” Joshua questioned. “You swore an oath that you would protect her , as well as I!” He added in anger, but regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.

“Gentlemen! If you are going to fight, take it outside, not when there’s a patient in my bed.” Lady Margarette snapped at the two of them. 

Clive was taken aback at his brother pulling rank, but he chose not to question him, not with that fire in his eyes. He would have acted the same if it was Jill on the bed. “On my life, Your Grace .” He answered coldly before leaving the infirmary without another word, the door snicking shut behind him. 

It was at that moment that Joshua wished his brother would have slammed it. 

 

Forcing an antidote draft down Jote's throat was the worst thing Joshua ever had to witness. Even as Lady Margarette woke her temporarily with smelling salts so she wouldn’t choke, Joshua hated the look of betrayal, of panic, in his wife’s tortured gaze as he held her down while the healer put a hand over her mouth until she swallowed.

“Keep her to the side so she doesn’t asphyxiate, Your Grace.” Margarette said after Jote managed to take in a staggering breath, eyes dazed from the effects of the poison, and the blood loss, her half lidded stare struggled to focus on him. “Once that kicks in, she’s going to have a rough couple nights.” 

Joshua nodded, before weaving his hand with her cold one. “Stay with me, Jote…” He whispered as he pressed a kiss to it.  “Stay with me, my darling…” 

“The key is to keep her relaxed, and do what we can to ease her pain.” She said, as she pressed her hands firmly on Jote’s lower belly, and the strangled whimper that she made tore his heart apart. “I’m sorry, my lady.” Margarette murmured. “I know, I know…” 

As the healer’s hands came away red, Margarette confirmed the worst after cutting Jote out of her blood-soaked gown. Their child was gone, just hours after Jote had given her blessing on announcing it.

“Get out.” He said, directed at the healer.

“Your Grace?”

“I said, get out, Lady Margarette. I would like a moment with my wife.” Joshua grit out. “ Please .” He pleaded, as her consciousness slipped back under.

“I’ll be back in an hour. Summon me if you require anything else.” She said reluctantly.

Joshua said nothing more as the infirmary fell silent. He sat on the bed, pulled Jote into his arms, unable to stop the tears that threatened to fall as he prayed to whomever was listening to bring her back to him. 

 

Clive had sent Jill back to tend to the twins and told her to prepare for them to go to Bennemere. He was in no mood to argue with Jill when she protested, wanting to stay with him, wanting to stay for Jote, but when she realized that he was doing this for the safety of her and their sons, he was thankful that she surrendered. He tried not to direct his temper at her, especially after his little row with Joshua, apologizing to her as he helped her pack. 

“Take Ambrosia with you, and ride as far as she can carry you.” Clive said as he tied the wrap around her, securing the twins to her chest. “Wade said he has Cole and Arryn waiting at the gates to escort you out.”

“Clive–” Jill began as he secured her rapier to her waist, and fastened the heavy cloak around them. “It would seem suspicious for us to flee now…”

“Everyone is gathered in the hall, you'll be far from here before they realize you're gone.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “I'm sorry, my star… I can’t stand by and watch if they come after you too…”

“Alright, my love.” Jill whispered at his lips as she kissed him goodbye. “I'll let you know when we get to the Rest.” 

“Then I want you to write to me when you arrive at the Hideaway,” Clive kissed her back. “I've already sent an owl ahead to let Gav and Otto to expect your arrival.” He was grateful that even with the absence of aether, the stolas owls still found their recipients with their hand written missives. He then pressed kisses to the sleeping heads of Kyren and Arian. “I'll send for you three when things settle down.” 

“Please write when you receive news on Jote.” She added as she collected her bag. 

“I will.” 

“I love you.” Jill kissed him once more.

“I love you more.” Clive lingered a moment longer before letting her go. He had half a mind to keep Torgal with him to assist him to sniff out the toxin that was used to incapacitate his sister-in-law, but since he was not going with Jill and their twins, Torgal will have to go in his stead. “Go with her, boy. Keep them safe.” He murmured to the frost wolf beside him. Torgal gave him a nudge with his nose before taking off after his mistress. 

Jill turned around to look back at her husband down the hall, and took the wind to flee into the night.

 

Since no one else seemed to be seeing the effects of being poisoned, it was clear to him that Jote was the only one who was targeted, her intuition from the night prior was indeed correct. She was being watched by an unknown spectre, and their suspected spy had found their quarry. He, at least, could confirm that it was Loreiliah’s Kiss, one he hadn't used since his days as a Branded Assassin, tasteless when consumed with food or drink, so she likely didn't realize she had taken it until the effects kicked in, especially when the aftertaste arrived. The poison itself likely wouldn't kill her, if Joshua's tales were true about her having a tolerance for it, but it was the possibility of losing her child that may spell her end, considering how much agony she was in, and the blood she lost in the gardens. While he didn’t want to speculate until he received official word from Joshua, things were not looking promising when Lady Margarette did her initial examination.

“We demand to see the Archduke, Lord Commander.” Lord Brisbane ordered as Clive returned to the hall. “You have no right to keep us here.”

“The Archduke is occupied, and I am in charge in his stead.” Clive said darkly. He was tired of playing their games. “Now, treason has been committed tonight and we will figure out who is responsible.” Murmurs filled the hall, some in panic. Clive rolled his shoulders. “You all have no reason to leave, nothing to fear, if you have nothing to hide.”

 

It was well after dawn before Clive gave the order that the guests were permitted to leave the castle, and while his three suspected Houses were of Ashburn, Brisbane, and Magnesson, they were innocent until proven guilty, each and every one of them feigned ignorance. All that remained were the servants. Lady Marleigh and her ladies from Drustanus were cleared, as he expected. As well as those who were previously employed by his father through his own questioning, nearly all of whom loved Jote, their loyalty to House Rosfield unwavering, to point him in the direction of those who did not share the sentiment. Wade also had alerted him with his own suspicions of a select few, especially with a sandy haired girl who either was nervous from the attention she was getting from the Shields, or she was hiding something from them and that’s all he needed. If they were sponsored by any of the High Houses, then they could lead them into the House that meant to do harm, who was too much of a coward to do it in person. 

“Sir Wade, see that those are taken to the dungeons for further questioning.” Clive commanded. If Jote woke, she could at least narrow down the potential suspects. “The rest of you, thank you for your compliance. You are excused.”

When the hall emptied, Byron settled a hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “So a fiend has indeed sent a spy…” There was a hint of anger mixed in his exhaustion.

“Yes.” Clive said, running his hands through his hair. “And Jote was the one who paid the price for it…”

“Then all we can do is hope she will pull through. Yes?”

“If she doesn’t, it wouldn’t be me that they should be scared of.”

Notes:

Innocent until proven Guilty, but not for long.

Next up, Jote has a strange dream.

Chapter 23

Notes:

In which the sons of fire rekindle their flame after their argument, and Jote is confronted by a mysterious figure.

 

**Content warning, with a mention of a stillborn, but Clive and Joshua aren't the only Rosfields in dear need of therapy.**

“How did you bear it? Losing your wife and child?” Joshua asked Byron two days after his nameday, shortly after Lady Margarette sent him away to get some rest. He knew that his uncle had married once, but that was not long after Clive was born when his wife passed away, he never thought to wed again.

Byron looked at his youngest nephew and loosened a breath. “That, my boy, is a pain I will never lose. My Emmeline was much like your Jote. She had that fighting spirit that could not be contained.” Byron set his hands on his nephew’s shoulders. “Because of that, you mustn’t lose faith that she will pull through.” He could never forget that day. He had held onto that faith too when the fever claimed Emmeline after their daughter was born sleeping, but when he fell asleep at her side and found her gone the next morning, he hated everything. He was angry at Elwin then, his elder brother’s son, happy, healthy, already holding expectations that he was to be the Phoenix. However, it was also Elwin who took the heat, let him take his frustrations out on him, let him break down until they rekindled their relationship. “And you mustn’t be too upset with Clive. He’s doing his best to make things right as well.”

“I'm going to try, Uncle.” Joshua said. “He seemed just as upset with me.”

“You won't know until you speak with him, dear nephew.” Byron said as he gave him a hug. “It's been a long few days for all of us, I don’t think he’s taken a moment to rest either. Perhaps you can convince him to do so.”

 

Joshua wandered until he found Clive standing on the balcony, looking out at the gardens that had become covered with fresh snow overnight; the former Warden of the Inferno unbothered by the cold that only Shiva could have brought. The early evening air was still, the storm brought an otherworldly quiet with the grey-purple clouds that seemed to reflect the mood between the two men.

“You sent Jill to Bennumere.” Joshua murmured. It was the first time they spoke to each other since that night, Byron having played messenger for the day and a half. He had sat vigil at Jote’s side, helping Lady Margarette when he could, but barely gave himself the time to sleep.

“I did.” Clive’s face mirrored his exhaustion, and it seemed he too, allowed himself a change of clothes, and nothing else. “She didn’t want to, but I made her go. I didn't want to give them the opportunity to come after her or the twins.” It worried him that they were caught in the storm, but he had received word that Jill and the twins made it to Martha’s Rest the night prior.

“That’s good to hear. You did what I could not. She and the boys will be safe there.” Joshua ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m tempted to send Jote there so she can recover in peace without the court breathing down her neck.”

“It may be worth considering.” Clive looked at his brother. “Has she woken at all?”

Joshua shook his head. “No. She hasn’t.” He heaved a sigh. “No fever, thank the Founder, but her body is still in distress from everything that happened.” He met his brother’s gaze. “Did you find anything?”

“I have four servants in custody, two are sponsored by House Ashburn, but none of whom have opened up yet. I did find out who stole the keys though.”

“Adding insult to injury…” Joshua exhaled. “I’ll need to question them myself soon.”

“I figured that Jote would help with what she can to see if she can help pinpoint anyone who may be involved.”

Joshua gave him a nod in response. Silence fell between them, and Clive breathed warmth into his hands.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you the other night, Clive…”

“Your wife was just poisoned, Joshua. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“No, but invoking your title like that was uncalled for and…” A lump gathered in Joshua’s throat and Clive pulled him into an embrace. “Can you forgive me, brother?” He managed to say.

“I forgive you, Joshua.” Clive said, without another beat. “You should get some rest…”

“But, Jote–”

“Will be safe in your absence.” Clive finished for him. “You can’t make yourself sick for her sake. The shields at the infirmary door are on my order to collect you at Lady Margarette's word that she has woken.”

Joshua brought in another shaky breath. “Then you should try to get some rest too. I can’t have you running ragged either.”

“I plan on it, don’t worry.” Clive said as he pulled back. “Then we can get back to work.”

 

Jote thought she was dreaming. She was freezing, but she felt no pain. She opened her eyes slowly, expecting endless black, instead the warmth of the red, blue and green fire that surrounded her. She waited for fear, waited for pain, waited for Death, but nothing came. She knew these flames, they had healed her, protected her, killed for her. “Joshua?” She called into the fire, sitting up quickly.

“Sister of the Undying Flame.” A voice said softly, as if not to frighten her. It was her husband's voice, but at the same time, it wasn't. It was young and old, it was male and a female, and everything in between. Even the figure that knelt before her was not of a woman or of a man, just simply a being, locked in an eternal semi-primed state, one she has only seen Joshua in once. “You’re the one who showed my Dominant kindness.”

“Yes…” Jote sounded hollow, empty.

“You asked for me to take your pain away.”

“I did.” Jote didn’t think anyone was listening. Darkness lingered behind her, whispering endless doubts that she did not dare voice aloud to the being before her when she then realized who knelt before her. How she was seeing the Astral form of the Phoenix, despite the lack of aether, she didn’t want to know.

“My Dominant spoke very highly of you.” The Phoenix said carefully to her as they reached to cradle her face, a thumb brushing against her cheek to wipe the tear that fell. “You, who has suffered much for him as his friend, his knight, his lover.”

“Am I dying?” She asked after a beat as her heart shattered, unable to meet the Phoenix’s unearthly blue gaze.

“That will depend on you, dearest Sister.” The Phoenix’s fingers were gentle as they lifted her chin for her to look at them. “The world has not been kind to you, hasn’t it?”

Jote shook her head. “No. It has not…”

“They, who have stolen your home, your family, your virtue, your dignity, your child.” The ever changing voice melted between fury and agony as they brushed the stray strands of her short hair away from her face. She lost her home and her family being a Bearer, Royalist intelligencers stole her virtue and maidenhood, the Elders of the Undying stripped her of her dignity and respect. “Are you going to let them steal your life as well?”

The question hung in the silence between them. She knew better than to beg. Her memory was of a shattered mirror, but the fractures that she did recall reminded her of the taste of Loreilaih’s Kiss on her tongue, the torture of not being able to breathe as she felt her unborn child’s lifeblood leaving her, Clive calling out to her as her consciousness was ripped from her. “I don’t want to die…” Her words cracked. “I–I can’t leave him… not like that…”

“I hear his pleas, dearest Sister. He does not wish you to leave either.” Jote closed her eyes, tears leaving trails down her face. “Would you seek justice for the pain they afflicted upon you?” The Phoenix asked, their voice shifting to a lover’s, the crimson of their hair shifted as they cocked their head to the side with curiosity, as if searching for that fire of vengeance in her eyes but found them vacant. “Would you show them that you are no mere knight in play but a Queen in your own right?”

“I don’t know if I have the strength…” She never felt so tired, so heavy, even during the weeks she mourned for Joshua after Origin fell, she didn’t feel a bonecrushing weight upon her shoulders like she did now as Death beckoned.

“Then I will grant you the strength you need, my darling.” The Phoenix said as their gentle hands caressed her face, their voice shifting to Joshua’s for a moment. “Do not forget that your unwavering devotion is not a weakness. It cannot be severed by the cruelty of lesser men, and the jealousy of insecure-minded women.” They continued as they pulled back slightly. “My Dominant chose you for a reason, for you are his light. Do not let the darkness of others drown your flame.”

Jote stared into the hauntingly blue eyes of the Phoenix, feeling a light in her weary soul. The firebird did not speak as the heat spread through her body, burning hotter as it set her ailments aflame. “What is your price?” She asked, unsure what the Eikon would ask for in exchange for her life.

“In a world that has taken everything from you, I seek nothing in return.” They answered, wings unfurling behind them, feathers and pinions of ruby, topaz, citrine, of emerald and sapphire spreading wide, as the flames grew close. “ Arise, and know that your fire burns brighter with him. You are one of the Undying Flame, and I see no one else more deserving of this, my Sister.” The Phoenix smiled softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead, leaving a crown of unburning fire upon her brow and without another word, the flames disappeared, and the astral figure of the firebird vanished in scarlet embers.

 

Jote took in a quick intake of breath, and it took a moment for her to realize where she was when she opened her eyes. The infirmary was quiet, and empty, no sign of Joshua at her side. A fire popped, and cackled in the hearth, snow fell heavily outside in the window. It still felt like a knife was pierced through her middle, her body still heavy, but she no longer felt cold, a fever didn’t burn. A hiss turned into a pained cry as she tried to sit up, and hurried footsteps approached her.

“Oh, my lady.” Lady Margarette said quietly as she came to her side. “It's alright, you're alright.”

“Where's– where's Josh– His Grace? Jote rasped, already attempting to grasp at the spiderwebs to reign in the rising anxiety that fought to break her.

“I had him try to get some rest while you were still asleep, my dear. He hadn't left your side since the night of the banquet.” The woman answered. “I'll send for him now, just try not to overexert yourself.” Jote nodded, as Lady Margarette left her side to relay the news to the guards. When the older woman returned, cup in hand, Jote was grateful that she didn’t stop her from trying to sit up, tucking pillows behind her. “Here, a little something for the pain.” She said gently, sensing Jote’s hesitancy as she was given the cup. “His Grace was with me when I made the draft, my lady. I assure you, I'm not going to hurt you.” Jote met Margarette’s gaze, and drank the foul tasting concoction after a moment before leaning her head against the headboard of the bed.

“Thank you, Lady Margarette.” Jote managed, shifting slightly to ease the discomfort that had already started to go numb.

“You gave us quite a scare the other night, my lady.” She said as she poured water from a pitcher and traded out the cup, gesturing to her to drink. “His Grace did not want to leave your side.”

“I have no doubt that I did…” Jote answered into her glass. She didn’t need to hear it from her to know why. “I apologize for causing such trouble.”

“Nonsense, my dear.” Margarette replied, readjusting the blankets on her charge. “It sounds like the Lord Commander managed to find some suspects that are to blame for this.”

“Who?” Jote questioned.

“Forgive me, Your Grace. It’s not my place.” The healer put it plainly. “I am certain His Grace and Lord Commander will go into further detail when the time is right–”

“Jote!” Joshua exclaimed as he entered the infirmary, out of breath as he ran from the other side of the castle to be at her side. Her husband had the look of fatigue upon him, but it melted into relief as he saw her.

Lady Margarette gave him a dip of her head. “I'll give you two some privacy.” She said before returning to her chambers.

“Thank you.” Joshua said before turning to his wife. “My darling.” He added, silver lining his eyes.

“Joshua–” She sighed as he embraced her, his hand cradling her head, burying himself in the crook of her neck. A whispered sob left her as she felt his tears fall onto her shoulder.

“Thank the Founder. I thought I lost you.” He murmured softly, pulling away to caress her face. “I was out of my mind with worry.”

“Joshua, I–” She began to apologize, when he shook his head to stop her.

“My darling,” He brushed away the tears that slid down her cheeks. “You need not apologize.” He added as he folded her into his arms once more.

“Our child…” She said, a pang of sadness hitting her.

“Is gone…” Joshua confirmed, grief filled in his voice. “We will have another chance. I promise you…” He added. “However, more importantly, you are alive, and I could not ask for more.”

“For the kind soul who has shown my Dominant joy,” The Phoenix’s voice whispered lightly in her ear. “This is a gift.”

Notes:

A little peek into Byron's personal life before his nephews became his life, and his elder brother extending the hand to bring him out.

I'm not going to lie, I did cry writing Jote's encounter with the Phoenix.

Thank you all for the Kudos, and the comments. Thank you for staying with me on this tale.

Chapter 24

Notes:

Where one woman's actions would be her downfall at the hands of another.

Bit of a longer chapter, but it's payback time. I hope you enjoy!

Clive was right to wait until Jote was well enough to conduct more thorough questioning to the four servants they had narrowed down as suspects. With her there, they were able to confirm who Jote recalled seeing with close proximity to her during the banquet and permitted the release two of them, and were left with the remaining two, both of which were sponsored by the House of Ashburn; Justinian and Omelie, shocked to see her out of the deathbed they expect her to be in, and assisting with the interrogation.

Justinian had not only helped Omelie spy on Jote but Jill as well, Omelie using the stolen keys to sneak about the castle. While Justinian had been slipping small doses of other poisons in Jote’s food and drink to stir up her paranoia on order of Lord Ashburn these recent weeks, it was not just one, but two of the doses of Loreiliah's Kiss that his daughter personally saw to slipping into Jote's wine that night that made the events unfold the way that it did, and Omelie was under direct orders from Lady Madilynne to carry them out. 

“How did you receive your orders?” Jote asked. Their confessions sparked a flame in her soul, rage gathered and twisted and she knew her husband and brother in law could sense it roiling off of her.

“Your Grace–” Omelie began.

“How. Did you. Receive. Your orders?” Jote repeated, colder that time. “You both are already in line for the gallows, so lies will not help you.”

“I–I meet with Lady Madilynne personally once every moon to collect them. I was to meet her tomorrow evening after the midnight bells. Just before the guard rotation.” Omelie answered. 

“Does she know that you were caught?” Joshua questioned.

“As far as I am aware, Your Grace, no. Unless you have already made it public.” Omelie replied. “I only did as I was told. Please. They threatened to dismiss my family from their household if I didn’t…”

Jote looked at her husband. “Did they threaten your family as well?” She asked Justinian.

“No, Your Grace. He gave me orders to see to it that Omelie followed through with his daughter’s plans and I took the liberty to hasten the process, and I was the one who would take the fall, should we be discovered.” Justinian said. 

“Even if it meant going to your death to see someone else’s end?” Clive questioned. 

“Yes, My Lord. I have accepted my fate. When the Lord of your Household demands something of you, you do it. There is no room for questions, only results. I was to be invisible, and invisible I was until now.”

“Invisible… So when you are caught, there's no other evidence that would tie you to the Ashburn Household.” Clive said and Justinian's nod was all he needed, however that was not the answer he wanted to hear.

 

“I’m not going to the Hideaway.” Jote said firmly to Joshua while they held counsel the morning after the interrogations with Clive and Byron in the confines of Joshua’s study. “I’m not giving them the satisfaction to let them think they’ve won by running.”

“Jote, please.” Joshua pleaded. “I cannot see you get hurt again.”

“Now, now, nephew. You did give her a choice to leave or stay.” Byron said. “Clive did not give Jill that choice.”

“She may not have, but I don’t blame him for not doing it.” Jote continued. “Even I feel better knowing that Jill fled to Bennumere when Clive made her go. If their plan succeeded and I died, they very well could have come after her, or the twins.” She had not missed the honeyed venom the younger ladies spoke about when she hosted luncheons and afternoon teas with them after Jill left court to care for her newborn sons. “If I run, that may spin a whole other web of rumors that we cannot afford right now.”

“She has a point, Joshua.” Clive said. “You want to confront Lady Madilynne. Don't you?” Clive turned to his sister.

“I do. I'm not expecting to go alone, but I will if I have to.” Jote replied.

“You're still on the mend, Jote.” Joshua raised the concern.  He knew she was still healing  from the miscarriage, knew the pain that she was still in physically and emotionally but he knew she was angry and wanted to take matters into her own hands.

“I know my limits, my beloved. I'll be fine.” 

“Whatever punishment you give her, we can protect you.” Byron relayed. “I can remain here and provide an alibi, should you need it.”

“I don't plan on killing her, but enough for her to back off and put her in her place.” Jote replied. 

“You hold council with the Houses, and the Undying in two days. They would expect news upon the treason that was committed.” Clive turned to his brother. If the other Houses are involved, they may already know what happened, and given by Omelie and Justinian's reactions, they may expect Jote to be dead as well.

“Yes,” Joshua answered. “And I'm already anticipating a riot.”

“I'm attending that meeting with you.” Jote said. “Whatever happens, we do it together, Joshua.”

“You two also didn't announce your child, so use that to your advantage as well.” Byron crossed his arms. “I guarantee you that some people, like Lady Westmore, will not stand for that.”

“As much as it pains me to do so, we will.” Joshua took a breath before looking at his wife. “If you'll permit it, Clive and I can accompany you tonight. The more people who hear Madilynne’s confession, the better.”

“Then you may come. I just ask that you don't interfere. If you feel like additional punishment needs to be served to her, then I will leave that to you two.”

“That can be arranged.” Clive agreed. “What of Omelie and Justinian?” He turned to his brother. 

“While we may take into account that they were coerced into committing treason, it does not fully excuse their actions either.” Jote said, leaning against her husband’s desk. “Justinian, we cannot pardon him. Omelie, while she was led astray, is also just as guilty as she had every opportunity to come to us for help, however, we can offer protection to her family. Once we pin down Lord Ashburn and Lady Madilynne, we could always give them a taste of their own medicine.” 

Byron looked at his nephews and then at his niece in law. “I knew I liked you, my dear.” He said with a chuckle, bringing a small smile to Jote’s face.

 

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” Joshua asked his wife as she pulled the hood of his thick travelling cloak over his head.

“Yes. I’m sure.” Jote answered, as he pulled her hood up. “You’re not going to try to talk me out of this, are you?”

“No. I know you can hold your own.” He smirked. “I just want to make sure that I'm giving you the chance to get the justice you deserve.”

“You are, Joshua. I’m not fighting just for me, but for us. She tried to tear us apart by making unwanted advances on you, by trying to kill me. She and her father are responsible for taking away our child.” She replied, sliding her dirk home into its scabbard behind her back. “Besides, should things go south, I have you and your brother to fall back on.” 

“She may try to play dirty.”

“Then I’ll play a game of my own. I’m not going to let her or her father be the thorn in our side, beloved.” She said, grabbing her husband’s cloak to pull him into a kiss. The third quarter bell before midnight rang. “Clive’s waiting for us, we should go.”

Joshua gently grabbed her chin and stole another kiss. “Be careful.”

“I will.”

 

Clive and Joshua hid in the alley adjacent to Jote as she waited for Madilynne just within eyesight. Even as they watched her warm her hands with her breath, they wondered if she would show up, at least until she heard footsteps. 

“ Make sure she doesn’t see you. ” Jote quickly signed to Joshua, his responding nod was enough to let his brother know and they backed up into the shadows.

“Remind me to have me teach you how to sign, brother.” Joshua murmured as they stayed within earshot, and kept in eye sight of Jote.

“It seems to be useful in situations like this.” Clive responded in equal quiet as the footsteps stopped. He knew hand signals from his time in the imperial army, but the silent Undying language seemed to be far superior.

“Well, is it done?” Madilynne asked, without even fully acknowledging the hooded woman. Jote didn’t answer, waiting for the proper moment. “Did you even hear me, girl? Is that Bearer filth dead?” She demanded, hand raised to strike her.

“Oh, I heard you.” Jote replied, grabbing her by the wrist and forced her against the wall. 

“Unhand me this instant!” The woman slammed her knee into Jote’s stomach to get her to let go. Jote hissed as she maintained her iron grip, hood falling off her head as she wrestled her to the ground and she climbed atop of her. “Your– your Grace.” She exhaled, when she realized who it was pinning her to the cobblestones, arm pressed firmly against her neck.

Joshua grimaced at the phantom pain he felt watching his wife take a knee to that sensitive area of her middle. That woman was going to pay. 

Clive held up his hand as his brother took a step forward. “We are not to interfere. Remember?” He whispered. 

Joshua turned back to look at his wife, and one moment, he saw her, the next he saw himself, with Jote being the one on the ground beneath him, dagger pressed to her collar.  He blinked and the vision was gone. He shook his head to clear the memory. He had seen that before, had lived it, just months after taking Ultima into his crystalline prison, and he never wanted to see that look of absolute horror in her eyes again when he finally regained control over his body. Out of habit, he rubbed his chest, half expecting that violet crystal to still be there, but found nothing.

“Joshua, you alright?” His brother whispered.

“I'm fine.”

“Lovely evening is it not, Lady Madilynne?” Jote asked darkly, thoroughly hiding the shake in her voice. The damned woman got her good, her knee having sent a pain that was much like another serrated knife through her lower stomach.  

“Let go of me.” Madilynne attempted to buck her off, but Jote held firm.

“No.” Jote crooned. 

“You fucking bitch.” The woman spat at her. 

Jote’s laugh sounded heartless. “I find the insults lacking, my lady.” She teased. “I’ve heard you call my sister in law much worse.”

Madilynne’s eyes burned with rage. “I should have killed you myself when I had a chance.”

“Ah, you should have slit my throat. It would have been quicker.”

“I will admit, I didn't expect you to last so long at the banquet. My servant failed to mention that you may have had a tolerance for such things. It's a good thing I came prepared. It seemed like I was correct in ridding you of the bastard before the Archduke announced it to be his heir.”

“You admit to giving me Loreiliah's Kiss, then? You saw what it did to me.” 

“If you think it was just the Lord Commander and his savage from the North that followed you to gardens that night, you are mistaken.” Madilynne gritted out, a cruel smile spread on her lips. “It must have been torturous, to lose a child like that.”

“You know nothing of the pain that I have endured, my lady.” Jote hissed.

“Oh, Struck a nerve have I?” Madilynne raised a brow. “It served you right. You stole away what was promised to me.”

“I stole nothing from you.” Jote seethed. “It is you who stole from me.”

“Was it truly his or someone else's? Common Bearer whores like you don't deserve men like him. You must be a good fuck for him to stay between your–”

Jote punched her hard across the face, once, twice, pain not even registering in her hand; blood spraying as her nose shattered from the strike and Jote half expected it to be black. “Shut. Up. For once your spoiled life, you will be silent and fucking listen.” Jote's voice was as soft as a lover’s, but as harsh as a sailor's as she withdrew her dagger, pressing it to her neck. “I do not take kindly to spineless cowards who hide behind their castle walls and flaunt their father’s money. You've let your jealousy blind you, and because of that, you have committed treason, my lady.” Jote adjusted the grip on her dagger, and tilted up Madilynne’s chin with the tip of her blade. 

“You can't kill me. The Houses will have your head.” 

“No, but the Houses cannot defend you either.” The edge of Jote's dagger found purchase, digging deep into the lady's porcelain cheek, before she clapped a hand over Madilynne's mouth to silence her scream, tears lined her green eyes. “Let this be a reminder of what I am capable of, and that this is a taste of what awaits you.” A trail of red flowed. “You so much as open your mouth and make another snide comment about me, or my sister in law, I will give you one on the other side to match. If you make another unsolicited advance on my husband, you will lose a hand. You make another attempt on my life, I will not be afraid to send you to Ifrit’s Hell where you belong so not even the Phoenix can save you. Do I make myself perfectly clear?” Madilynne made another attempt to get Jote off, but Jote kept the upper hand. “Careful now, you forget who has a knife to your throat.” She said, darker this time, a thin ribbon of blood leaked from her quarry's neck. “Do I make myself clear?”

Madilynne looked up at the woman on top of her and she nodded vigorously, careful not to slice her neck further with the dagger at her throat. Jote said nothing as she stood up, catching Joshua’s worried gaze, hiding the wince from the ache from where Madilynne kicked her. “You’re going to regret this…” Madilynne said through a sob.

“Am I? Or are you?” Jote countered, and she couldn’t stop the smirk on her face as Clive and Joshua came up behind her. “Get out of my sight. Before I change my mind and carry out your sentence without trial.” 

“You– You–” Madilynne's voice shook, her face falling pale at the sight of the Archduke and Lord Commander.

“You heard Her Grace, Lady Madilynne.” Joshua interrupted as he pulled his hood off his head. “You and your father have already dug your graves for treason. Enjoy the little time you have left before you have to lay in them.”

She looked at Jote, at Joshua, at Clive, suddenly realizing that she was outmatched, bolted down the alley.

“Should we follow?” Clive asked. 

“No.” Joshua replied. “I have guards watching their household so they will not be permitted to flee. We will have her and her father right where we want them when they attend the council meeting.” He turned to Jote, as she rubbed a hand over her stomach. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. She caught me by surprise is all.” She answered with a wince. Bells chimed to signal the changing of the guard. “I’m satisfied. She’s all yours.” Jote added to her brother in law before they returned to the castle. 

“Remind me to never be on your bad side, Jote.” Clive responded, and Joshua was unable to contain the smirk that spread on his face.

Notes:

I let Jote's intrusive thoughts win in this chapter. We usually see her calm and collected, however, after everything, she deserves to let her temper slip every once in a while and watch Lady Madilynne's ivory tower burn.

Chapter 25

Notes:

"In any regard, she is not the one on trial here. You are."

In which a council meeting becomes a trial.

Another longer chapter, but this will wrap up this arc, then happy times are coming.

Jote thought that she may have gone too far with Lady Madilynne when she flexed her hand the following morning, splotches of black, red, and purple painted across her knuckles, but Joshua had given her nothing but reassurances that she was well within her right to seek retribution for what Madilynne had done to her. He held her tightly when they returned to their rooms until he left to summon Cyril, and the Houses to have the council meeting forward a day. When she joined Clive for their morning spar, he examined her hand with expert precision then had her wrap her hands and gestured for her to enter the ring.

“She deserved what you gave her, Jote.” Clive said, reiterating what his brother had murmured to her as he kissed her bruises this morning. “Ready?” He asked, stepping into position and Jote nodded.

“Ready.” She replied, and Clive began. Her body protested the return to her standard routine, but there was that unfeeling part of her soul that had been ingrained to her since she was barely ten summers old to never show pain as a weakness. At least until Joshua woke from his long sleep after Phoenix Gate that made her feel something different. She struck him in the ribs, extracting a hiss from him as she pushed the attack. “Sorry.” Jote apologized as he took her responding blow. 

“Don’t apologize.” Clive grit out. “Glad to know that you’re not pulling your punches.” 

“I can, if you need me too.” Clive’s mouth formed a thin line as she spoke. “I’m not looking to beat the daylights out of you for the hell of it. I know my limits, and you are well aware of yours. I don't want to push you beyond that.”

“I can take it, Jote.” Her brother in law urged. “Give me everything you have. Whatever you didn’t take out on Lady Madilynne last night, you can take it out on me.” Jote didn’t hesitate, and to Clive’s credit, he didn’t shy away from her strikes; hot tears flowed down her face until a broken sob left her, and Clive caught her by the shoulders as she faltered. “Hey, hey, hey…” He said softly, just loud enough for her to hear. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” 

Jote punched him squarely in the chest once more, before looking up at him. “I’m going to hate today, aren’t I?” 

“None of us are going to like today.” Clive said as he tried to offer some consolation to her. It was hard to remember that she was nine years younger than himself these days. “Today is going to be one of the roughest days we’ll face as a Duchy. It is going to be ugly, they are going to belittle you until they try to force you to surrender, make you regret what you did, but it is what we were sworn to do. It is our duty.” He shifted his gaze slightly to see his brother standing outside of the ring, speaking with Wade. “Luckily, you will not face them alone. You will have Joshua and I, and Uncle Byron. I heard Cyril and the Undying are furious to hear what happened, and will likely demand retribution of their own. We will not let them win.”

Jote nodded. “Thank you.” She wiped away the stray tears, hiding her shock about Cyril. So, what the Bearer of the Burning Quill had said to her was true. He failed her once and he wouldn't do so again. “Have you heard from Jill at all?” 

“Yes. I received a letter from her this morning.” Clive replied. “She was saddened to hear the news and wished that she was here to be with you.”

“I wish she was here too, but it’s like I said yesterday. I don’t want her here. Not right now.” Jote missed her sister so much, missed her nephews, as much as it would hurt to see them, she would not wish for Jill to face the heat that she herself endured.

“We’ll see her soon enough.” Clive offered her a pained smile. “I think once all of this settles, I think Joshua would like to kick the court out for a bit and we can go to the Hideaway to decompress.”

“I would like that very much.” 

“Jote! Clive!” Joshua called across the yard, gesturing for them to him.

“How long until the Houses arrive?” Jote asked when they approached. 

“Within the hour.” Joshua confirmed. “I can tell just from the responses that I have received already, this is not going to be pretty by any means.”

“Then we have an hour to prepare,” Clive said. “And then, we’ll show them a different kind of Hell.”

 

When Clive said this meeting was going to be an ugly one, Jote knew that he meant it, and she anticipated a nightmare. While it had started somewhat peacefully, tensions rose when House Ashburn arrived, their Lord and Lady walking in with Madilynne behind them, eyes downcast as if she was the victim. That slice across her cheek complimented that of the bruises that sprouted from Jote’s punches that broke her perfect nose, and Jote then wished she did more damage as she locked eyes with the woman as she rubbed her bruised knuckles with her thumb. She refused to let Anya and Sarai cover them with gloves or makeup. She wanted the Houses to know that it was her that did it.  

“Lord Ashburn, so nice of you to join us.” Joshua said, almost bored. Today was the day that the games came to an end, his chessboard with the High Houses had the King in check. “Now that the Houses are all in assembly, let’s begin.”

“Perhaps we shall start with the declaration of treason that the Lord Commander stated at the banquet last week, Your Grace.” Lord Magnesson broke the silence. “I assume that is the reason as to why you requested that the council assemble early.”

“Yes, there is.” Joshua said plainly. “While we should discuss business of the Duchy, I’m afraid we have more pressing matters to attend to. That being one of them. It has been brought to my attention that there were spies sent to the castle to watch over me and my family when we arrived at Rosalith.” Murmurs filled the hall, and if the others present took note of Ashburn stiffening, they did not show it, but Joshua did. 

“That is quite the accusation, Your Grace.” Brisbane countered. 

“Not an accusation, when we know who they reported to, my lord.” Clive said bitterly.

“On what charges?” Casseldyne asked.

“Someone in this room broke their oaths to me, sponsored those spies to serve my household, threatened their families, and ordered them to poison my wife.” Joshua’s growl resonated through the hall, meeting the eyes of each of the Heads of the High Houses. Lord Hammond winced at his fiery gaze, Lord Casseldyne immediately looked to the floor; the Dowager Lady Westmore appeared furious, Brisbane and Magnesson were left unchanged. Lady Madilynne paled, her mother completely unaware of what her husband and daughter were being charged with, Lord Ashburn, there was anger in his face. “Got something to say, Lord Ashburn?” Joshua mused.

“You seem fairly confident that you know who this person is.” He grit out.

“That we do, as it was your spies who gave you away. It was your daughter who confirmed your involvement last night.” Jote ended her silence as the hushed murmurs grew louder.

“Here I thought that wives were accessories for this meeting.” Brisbane commented coldly, just low enough for everyone to hear.

“And yet you are the one talking out of turn. Let the woman speak!” Lady Westmore spat at him, arching a silver brow. “What makes you say that, Your Grace?” There was still fury in her dark eyes but there was no venom on her tongue, only curiosity, when she spoke to the Archduchess.

“How else do you think Lady Madilynne received those injuries to her face?” Jote sent back. 

Lord Ashburn pointed to Jote. “So you're the feral bitch that brutally attacked my daughter last night.” 

“That feral bitch is my wife, and you will address her accordingly, Lord Ashburn.” Joshua narrowed his eyes on him and then to Lord Brisbane. “Jote is free to speak to the council as she sees fit, and she will not be silenced in her own home.”

“Do you understand the damage you have caused? The work that will need to be done to secure her a husband now?” Lord Ashburn snarled. “Who would want a scarred bride?”

“The damage I caused, my lord? If we’re comparing scars in terms of securing a husband, I assure you, a dagger across the cheek is nothing to a set of ninetails to the back.” Jote stood, and she swore Madilynne recoiled. “How about the damage that you and your daughter caused us? You wished me a fruitful marriage that night, while she made continuous advances on my husband, and then you both gave me the very thing that killed our unborn heir.” The hall fell silent, only gasps from Lady Westmore and Lady Ashburn audible as the revelation came to light, but there was no room for celebration. Cyril, Garrett, and Adelyne and the other Undying that attended the meeting, stirred. “As far as I see it, Lady Madilynne deserved what she got, and whatever else that she will receive. There will be no beneficial match other than the gallows where you two are headed.”

“Lady Ashburn.” Clive’s voice cut through the continuous buzz, and the woman nearly leapt out of her skin. “Are we correct in assuming by your reaction, you had no participation in this? You were not present that night of the banquet.”

“I–” She looked appalled, shaking her head. “I– I had no idea, my Lord Commander. I remained at home with the nursemaid to care for our son that night.” She stammered as she pulled away from her family. “What have you done?” She asked her husband and daughter.

“Don’t look at me like that, Mother.” Madilynne’s voice was small. Good, so Jote’s lesson last night had indeed put her in her place. 

“Children are sacred, why would you do that–”

“Father said we were going to be alright. That Justinian and Omelie would take the fall.”

“Madilynne.” Lord Ashburn said in warning. 

“You promised me, Father.” She cut a glance at Joshua, and there was no kindness in his face. Just unrelenting, lethal flames that impossibly burned in his icy blue stare.

“Silence, girl.” Her father snapped at her. 

“Lord Magnesson, Lord Casseldyne, you also had daughters prepared to be the Archduke’s bride, did you not?” Jote turned to the other lords in the hall. “Do you share the same sentiment as Lord Ashburn?”

“Yes, I did, Your Grace.” Magnesson replied. “However, while my daughter and I may be disappointed that such an advantageous match did not come to term, I know a losing battle when I see one.” He added, glancing at Ashburn for a moment before returning to the Archduchess before him. “It appears I was correct.”

“My daughter is close with Lady Madilynne, and while she herself has expressed her frustrations upon the failed betrothal, and shared the sentiments, we know it is treason to act on such intrusive ideas, Your Grace.” Casseldyne responded with a dip of his head. “Our oaths to you and the Archduke were true, and it will remain as such.”

“Cowards.” Lord Ashburn sneered. “You would rather let an unbranded Bearer rule alongside the Phoenix and sully the bloodline?”

“Jote was first and foremost a Knight of the Undying Flame, and has been at my side since Phoenix Gate. She has proven her worth in more ways than one, and has shown absolute loyalty as my shield when my brother could not.” Joshua stated darkly. “After seeing what my mother did to my father, I had no desire to be forced into a loveless marriage. Her status as a Bearer holds little weight now with no aether at her command. She is no more a Bearer than Clive and I are Dominants to our Eikons; magic no longer at our beckoned call. In any regard, she is not the one on trial here, Lord Ashburn. You are.” 

The lord lost all sense of color when he came to the realization that the odds were against him, and Joshua leaned forward and resisted the urge to smile. Checkmate. He said to himself. 

“Would you like for us to read the charges, or jump to the sentencing?” Clive’s voice was grim. Ashburn closed his eyes and nodded, fully surrendering. “Lord Enoch Ashburn, Lady Madilynne Ashburn, you both are charged with breaking your oaths to the Duchy for your own personal gain. You share this sentence with the two servants who you ordered to collect this information for you, and who were also responsible for the attempted murder of Archduchess Jote Rosfield. You are hereby stripped of your titles and sent to the gallows for treason, where your sentence will be carried out.” He looked up and signaled to the shields and the Undying in the hall; the noise that Madilynne made was nothing human as she cried for her mother while they dragged her and her father out of the room. 

When the doors closed behind them, Joshua stood and looked upon the remaining members of the Houses. “Are there other matters that we need to discuss?”

“I believe those matters can wait, given the revelations that were brought to light today, Your Grace.” Lady Westmore proclaimed as she leaned on her cane to stand. “I think it would be wise for us to grant you and Her Grace some privacy so you may mourn accordingly.” The other lords started to protest, but the greying woman drove her cane into the hard floor, its resonating knock silencing them. “When you are ready, then you may call for council, and we will congregate at your request.” 

“Thank you, my lady. Then consider this meeting adjourned.” Joshua replied and the remaining Lords stood, bowed and made to leave.

 

As they filed out, Jote approached the lingering woman. “Lady Ashburn.”

“Y-yes, Your Grace.” The woman curtsied low.

“Your son is not yet of age, correct?” 

“My Eden is nearly eight winters, Your Grace.” She said, her voice shook.

“I cannot grant forgiveness on behalf of your husband and daughter for their crimes, however, I trust that you can keep stewardship of your House until he becomes of age to assume his title as Lord and Head of the household.”

“If that is Her Grace’s wish, I thank you for that small mercy.” The woman straightened out. “I must deeply apologize for the actions of my family, for the pain they have caused you, and His Grace, but I will make use of that time to atone for those sins that my House has committed against yours.”

“Then I will accept it.” Jote gave her a nod in gratitude. “Please. Go to your son.” 

Lady Ashburn gave her one final curtsy and left the castle without another word, while her husband and daughter awaited the gallows.

“Well met, my dear sister.” The Phoenix whispered in her ear as they were met with an empty hall and silence. 

 

The following evening, Joshua watched his citizens demand for the condemned’s heads as news broke of the treason that was committed. Cyril, Garrett, and Adelyne instigated their own punishment beforehand that confirmed their involvement. A small part of him wondered if it was worth it, when another foe could come along and threaten everything that they had, but seeing the harsh tension in Jote's body melt away when he relayed the news that they couldn't hurt her anymore, he realized that it was the right choice to make. 

Finally, a tentative peace, and Joshua was determined to keep it that way.

Notes:

A tentative peace. Finally. And a true peace to come.

The next chapter will bring Clive back to Jill and the boys and then we will see a time skip.

I hope you guys are enjoying this so far, and thank you so much for the comments and kudos! 💕

Chapter 26

Notes:

In which we return to the Hideaway.

I hope you enjoy a reprieve from all the drama.

Jill jolted awake to a knock on her door and Torgal’s low growl just after sunset three sennights after she returned to Bennumere, the safe haven of the Invincible welcoming her home. She must have dozed off while she was doublechecking Gaute’s ledger keeping, anything to keep herself busy during her time while the twins slept. Once she got them to sleep. 

“Jill.” Gav whispered harshly from the other side of the door. “Sorry to wake you, but a letter came for you.” 

“It’s okay, Torgal, it’s just Gav.” She gave Torgal a scritch behind the ears and she pulled on a robe to make herself decent before opening the door. “Good evening.” She greeted him as he handed her a sealed envelope, Clive’s familiar handwriting on the parchment.

“Good evening. I didn’t wake the bairns, did I?” He asked.

“No, they’re still asleep.” Jill answered. “Thank you.”

“I figured you would have wanted that as soon as it arrived. Things must have gone tit’s up back at Rosalith if he hadn’t been able to write as often.”

“We both know that Clive’s a busy man, Gav.” Jill said as she gave him a smile. She wrote to him when she got to Martha’s Rest, and then again when she got the twins settled at the Hideaway. She had received a small missive letting her know that Jote was okay perhaps a day or so after that, but then the ink ran dry from him for a fortnight.  Over the nearly six years since they had been reunited, while they had periodically spent weeks apart, she always hated it. Hated the uncertainty of the weeks after Origin, but those weeks would never compete with the thirteen years that they spent alone, both of them believing the worst of each other. While she continued to write to him as she used to, the wait between letters had been torture. Jill knew it wasn’t that Clive didn’t want to, but that her husband likely barely had a moment to spare for himself, just like the times Clive would be called away and would write the second he could. Considering the heft to the paper in her hand, he had written her short of a novel. “Maybe with this, things may have calmed down a bit.”

“That’s what we’re hoping for, right?” Gav chuckled. “If you need me to drag him back here, I will.” 

“I’ll keep it in mind, Gav. Thank you again.” Jill let out a giggle of her own.

“Just say the word and I'll head to Rosaria before you can stop me.” Gav smiled. “We’ll see you in the bailey tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yes.” Jill nodded. “See you then.” She gave him a wave as he made his descent from the stairs and closed the door behind her. 

She was relieved to see that nothing had changed in their absence in the months they were away. Jill knew that Clive had sent word to the Hideaway to let them know of the news that Kyren and Arian were born, but even with the circumstances that had her return to the Hideaway sooner than she wanted, the residents had welcomed her back with open arms, and the twins were instantly brought into the fold. Their found family had come together to have things prepared for them, Mid already volunteering to watch them at any time Jill would ever need some time to herself, as she had done with Edda’s son, Lysander. When she arrived with Cole and Arryn, she found that their solar still had all of their belongings still in it, Gav, too humble to take the room for himself, and two cradles sat by the bed, their sons’ names painstakingly carved into the dark wood, knitted blankets, one dark, one light, were draped on them, various other tokens and gifts for their family sat on Clive’s mahogany desk. 

To say Jill missed Clive was an understatement. She missed his presence, missed seeing him with the twins, hearing his voice sooth them to sleep, and she couldn’t wait for the day she received the all clear and he would return to her side. Torgal huffed into her hand as she climbed into bed, and sniffed the parchment. “Shall we read it, boy?” She asked as she broke the wax seal, and unfolded the pages. 

 

My Dearest Jill,

I must beg for your forgiveness for not writing to you sooner. I am glad to hear that you and the twins are settled well at the Hideaway, and I cannot wait to join you there as things at Rosalith are finally starting to return to normal. At least, as normal as it can be, but I am confident that I can share all that you missed while you have been away. 

With the High Houses finally giving Joshua their full support now that House Ashburn was found guilty of supplying not just two spies, but also personally saw to the poisoning of Jote at the banquet, they dare not challenge Jote’s bloodline, or Joshua’s authority. Thanks to the Founder, Brisbane, Magnesson, and Casseldyne have seemed to have backed off for the time being, and the now Lady Dowager Ashburn fully surrendered upon her husband and eldest daughter’s sentencing, and was fully ashamed of her late husband’s involvement, and will oversee the House until her son becomes of age. 

You seem to have an ally with Lady Westmore; the woman apologized for not defending you and our dear sister in law sooner, unaware of the alienation that was occurring to the both of you and requested to provide counsel to you two when you return and court is permitted back to Rosalith. As a widowed Lady with no heirs, I don't blame her for seeking audiences with the two women in higher command to share some wisdom. 

I miss you so much, my star. I miss the children as well, and I promise you that we'll be reunited soon. Joshua and Jote send their love to you and the twins. Uncle Byron also sends his regards as well. Give a kiss to Kyren and Arian for me in my absence, my treasure.

With my utmost affection,

Clive

 

Jill reread the letter one more time, running her fingers over her husband’s script a moment longer before she closed her eyes and pressed it to her heart. She was relieved to hear that they seemed to have control again of everything, and she prayed that the hostility that they all seemed to have in the castle would not be as strong and toxic as it had been. 

She heard the beginning cries of one of the twins that drew her attention towards them, snapping her from her train of thought. She got to her feet, and pulled Arian into her arms. “Shhh, my light.” She whispered into his hair as she checked on Kyren, the baby fast asleep in his own cradle. “It’s okay.” She began her pace, gently rocking the baby in her arms, and she looked out towards the water towards Rosaria, feeling better that Clive was coming back to her.

 

Joshua nearly thought it was a fool’s errand to travel through the night until the sight of the Invincible was visible on the blighted lake a few mornings later, never realizing how much he missed the Hideaway until they stepped on the docks at sunrise. Clive was true to his word that they would always have a permanent home here as Otto welcomed them back and told them that their rooms had not changed. 

“Go to Jill, we won’t overwhelm her so early.” Jote said to Clive, her voice sounding as drained as she was from their long day of travel. “We’ll check on you later.”

“Alright, you two get some rest.” His brother answered, giving them both a smile of gratitude for entertaining his plan to go to the Hideaway so quickly.

“You too.” Joshua countered, Clive nodding before he turned towards his room. 

Joshua didn’t come to know how tired he was until he collapsed in his old bed, Jote curling up beside him, and then he let the weight of the Duchy fall from his shoulders. He took a deep breath, listening to the residents of the Hideaway start their day as he pressed a kiss to Jote’s temple, his wife already fast asleep in his arms. Here, they can breathe for a moment, take these weeks to heal, to recenter, before going back to Rosalith. Grateful for their home away from home, Joshua pulled Jote closer, and sleep finally claimed him.

 

The twins did not want to sleep that night, and Jill felt the fatigue tenfold and hated the sight of the sun rising over the peaks that surrounded the lake when she finally got them to settle beside her. Torgal, ever present, ever so gentle when around them, whined, and nudged her cheek with his nose upon seeing her eyes flutter. “I know, boy… I know… You’ve got to be tired too…” She murmured. A knock on the door had her take a breath, and wonder how late she was to meeting Gav. Her sparring session from yesterday wore her out. “I’m coming…” She said a little louder, and Torgal let out a quiet bark, all too aware of the two boys asleep on the bed before going to the door and sat patiently in front of it. Half expecting Gav, she pulled it open, a flurry of excuses at the ready but opened the door to see her husband, with an exhausted smile on his face. 

“Hey, my star…”

“Clive–” She sighed as she leapt into his arms, pressing her forehead to his, her legs wrapping around his waist. “Founder, Clive…”

“Oh, I missed you…” He murmured at her lips as he adjusted his hold on her. 

“I missed you. I only got your letter the other night,” She said as she kissed him. “I wasn’t expecting you for another week at least…” 

“Surprise.” He managed a low chuckle. “I sent it out a day before I left in case I got delayed.” He kissed her back, deeply. “Can you forgive me?”

“Always, my love.” Jill rasped as he carried her inside the room, and shut the door behind him. Torgal huffed another quiet bark, to greet his master, but also as a reminder of the other two that were not be woken up. 

“Yes, hello Torgal.” Clive gave the hound a pat on his head. “Sorry, I know the boys are probably asleep.” He whispered softly, regret in his voice. 

“You do not need to apologize.” Jill responded in equal quiet, weaving her fingers through his hair. He let out a low growl as he nestled his face into her shoulder before setting her down. “They missed you dearly, so I don’t think they’ll mind.”

Clive pressed another kiss to Jill’s lips before turning his attention to his twin sons. “They’ve gotten bigger since I last saw them.” He said as he carefully brought Kyren into his arms, the dark haired boy cooed in his sleep. He glanced back at Jill. He hated being away for so long. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner…”

“You’re here now, and that is all that matters.” She said, placing a hand over his cheek and Clive smiled softly at the touch. He then took in his surroundings, noticing the dark wood cradles that bore their sons’ names, the blankets, the gifts. Jill followed his gaze. “They were here when we arrived.”

“I know I wrote to them when they were born, but I never expected this…” He shook his head as if it was a dream. 

“I told the same to Gav,” Jill said. “And he said after everything we have done, everything we gave to them all these years, they felt the need to give something back to us.”

“Founder…” He replied. “Wasn’t there a saying in the North that it takes a village to raise a child?”

“There is, and I’d say that we definitely have one, my love.” She added, stifling a yawn.

“It looks like you’ve had a rough night, my star…” Clive fought his own yawn. “Do you want me to watch them for a bit?”

“You just got here, Clive. You must be tired–” Jill began. 

“I know, but what kind of husband and father would I be if I didn’t let my wife get the rest when she needed it?” He was weary from his journey from Rosalith, but he wanted to make up for the fortnight and a half he missed while he sent them away. “I don’t mind staying up a little bit to take care of them.”

She searched for a hint of hesitancy in Clive’s blue eyes, and found none. “Are you sure you have them?”

Clive nodded enthusiastically. “I’m more than sure, my treasure.” He scooped up Arian with his other arm, held them close and leaned in for another kiss.

Jill brushed the stray hair from her husband’s face before kissing him back. “Thank you.” She whispered. “I won’t be long.”

“You take as much time as you need, Jill,” He murmured. “And then if you and I want some alone time, Joshua and Jote agreed to watch them.”

“Joshua and Jote came with you?”

“Yes. They are taking some much needed time away from court. Uncle Byron is overseeing Rosalith in our absence.” Clive replied. “They said that they’ll catch up later when we’ve all taken some rest.”

“I can’t argue with that. You all will have to tell me what happened beyond what you put in your letters.”

“Don’t worry.” A ghost of a laugh left him. “We will.”

Before long, she heard Clive’s deep hum fill the solar as he held their boys close, low murmurs of a tale or two as he paced around the room, a sense of normality returning as she watched her husband’s face soften with relief that he returned to her side. 

 

“Clive tells me that you’re almost done with your first draft of your manuscript.” Jill mentioned to Joshua at dinner the following night.

“Oh, did he now?” Joshua smirked, looking pointedly at his brother, Clive mirroring the expression. “It’s coming along, but I fear I still have some work that needs to be done to allow it to be completed. Luckily, Clive’s edits are a big help.”

“You should have seen him last week when he was contemplating a title for it.” Jote said into her glass. “If it was anything else, you would have thought he would have gone mad.”

“What did you have in mind?” Jill set her fork down.

“It certainly is not Moss the Chronicler. A few contenders were Mythos or The Origin of Valisthea , however as it was a story for all of us, I don’t want it to sound like it was written by Ultima.” Joshua explained. 

‘ The world you seek is but a fantasy .’ Ultima had shouted at Clive then. “How about Final Fantasy ?” Clive suggested. “I told Ultima that the only fantasy that was there was his, and we would be its final witness. It would be a play on that.” 

Joshua met his brother’s gaze. “We indeed witnessed its fall. I like the sound of that.” 

“Its certainly better than the others that he proposed to me.” Jote commented.

“You wound me, my darling.” Joshua gasped, bringing a laugh from his brother and sister in law. 

“My apologies, my beloved.” She weaved her hand with his. “I look forward to reading it, all the same.”

“As do I.” Jill raised her glass in a toast. “To Final Fantasy .”

“To Final Fantasy !” Clive, Jote and Joshua raised their glasses, bringing them together, the sound of glass clinking together filling the room.  

“By Joshua Rosfield.” Clive continued, his glass remaining up and nodded to his brother.

“I can't take all the credit, Clive.” He interjected.

“You can.” His brother took a drink from his glass, finishing his wine. “And you will. You are far more of a scholar than I ever will be.”

 

Joshua was nervous to take his nephews later that night to give his brother some much needed time alone with Jill, for Jote’s sake as she was still healing, physically and mentally from their loss, but those worries dissolved as he watched her from his desk as he looked up occasionally from his journal. Seeing her smile as she played with them, two pairs of chubby baby hands reaching up to her as she made silly faces at them, it was probably the medicine she needed. 

“Joshua…” Jote said, catching him staring at her, gesturing for him to join her. 

“I’ll be there in a moment.” He wiped his pen clean and shut his ink pot before he got up from the desk. They hadn’t spoken about when they should try again for a child of their own, however he was  content with their nephews until Jote was ready. He knew she harboured a fear of ill luck with the matter and he was not about to pressure her into having children when she was scared to. He kissed her as he sat beside her, and admired the babbling twins before them. 

Joshua rubbed his hand along Jote's back as she gave their nephews butterfly kisses and their responding giggles coaxed one from her as well, and he froze. He hadn’t heard a laugh from her in weeks, and it was music to his ears as it mixed with bubbly noises that the twins made. He didn't notice the tears that slipped from his eyes until he felt a thumb brush them away.

“Is something the matter, my beloved?” Jote whispered.

“Far from it, darling,” Joshua said. “Far from it.” He repeated as he kissed her.

Notes:

We will expect a jump in time, but this will begin the start of a happy ending so stay tuned!

Chapter 27

Notes:

'It was the first time he had been back in seven years, and aside from nature taking back what was theirs, nothing had changed, new green slowly creeping back over the burned and blighted black.'

Bit of a Jump in time here, and a shorter chapter. To quote Green Day here, "Summer has come to pass, twenty years has gone so fast."

Please enjoy! 💕

**CW: There is a mention of fertility issues, and a hard labor, so read with caution if you are sensitive to that topic.

Summer of 880: Two Years after the Fall of Origin

 

“I figured I would find you here.” Joshua jumped as he heard Clive say from behind him on one of the last standing parapets of Phoenix Gate. 

“Did Wade tell you where I was?” Joshua asked as he gestured for his brother to sit beside him.

“He only told me that you couldn’t sleep and left without another word. Out of the two places that you could be, between here and Father’s grave, I'm glad I chose right.”

Joshua felt everything and nothing at the same time as he stared over the crater that they caused twenty ago as the sun began to rise. He always had a difficult time this time of year, because of the anniversary of Phoenix Gate and now twice over with Origin. Nightmares of the last two decades tore him from his sleep, the last thing he remembered was the sound of bones breaking, Ifrit’s roar as he cried out for Clive to help him bled into Ultima’s whisper as he tore from that crystalline prison. 

Jote heard him scream as his heart slammed against his ribcage, had heard him get up, was moments away from coming with him, but he convinced her to go back to sleep. He had pressed a kiss to her temple, smoothed a hand over the gentle swell of her stomach, before leaving in the hours before sunrise. What actually compelled him to ride alone to the ruins, Wade needed no explanation to let him go.

It was the first time he had been back in seven years, and aside from nature taking back what was theirs, nothing had changed, new green slowly creeping back over the burned and blighted black. 

“I may still want to visit Father after this, if that's alright with you.”

“So long as we are back before the festival starts, we can do that. It’s been a while since we made that journey.” Clive said as he patted his brother's back and followed his gaze to the rising sun and the destruction below. “Brought you breakfast.” He added, handing him an apple.

“Thanks.” Joshua took it, stared at it before taking a bite. “It still feels wrong to have a festival to commemorate the worst day of our lives.” 

“You said that last year.” Clive didn’t like it anymore than his brother did, though he had not counted on the lantern ceremony they did after sundown, he surprisingly liked it. “However, while we each know our stance on the matter, who are we to question the freedoms of our people when they wish to use joy to help remember the fallen?”

“I suppose you’re right…” Joshua heaved a sigh. “Where did the time go, Clive?”

“I was about to ask you the same question.” Clive leaned back on his hands as he took a bite of his own apple and looked at his brother. “It seems only yesterday that the shields were singing the banner song with Father.”

“We were just boys then,” Joshua recounted. “Readying for a war that we never got to fight.”

“Only to be forced to fight a different war.” Clive watched the rising sun change the color of the sky above them. “In the end, I would do it all again now if it meant having the peace we have now.”

“I agree.” Joshua took another bite of his apple. “Though, maybe I would be the one to kick your ass this time.”

Clive huffed a small laugh. “Is that a challenge?”

“In a different life, perhaps. I think we’ve fought enough battles in our lifetime.” Joshua chuckled. “I’m lucky you gave me the chance to live in this new world. To finally give ourselves the life we deserve. The life that Father wanted for us.” 

“I’d say that we are doing pretty well on that already, and perhaps find our own way to honor the dead.”

“Absolutely.” 

“Speaking of the dead, this is for you. Gav sent that with his letter yesterday.” Clive said as he pulled a missive from his pocket and handed it to him. 

“Don’t tell me it’s another–” He began, taking the immaculately folded parchment, and stopped as he recognized the penmanship. A letter from Dion Lesage two years after his death was not what Joshua expected to have in his possession. It was addressed to the Phoenix, and the wax seal bore Bahamut’s crest. Dion always used their Eikons rather than their given names, so there would be no one else this would be addressed to other than him. The letter, of course, was dated shortly before they departed to Origin, but it still cut open a deep wound that he had spent the last two winters healing from. “Where did you find this?” He asked Clive, lifting the sealed parchment. 

“It wasn’t me who found it, but rather Harpocrates a few days ago. Still sealed, and tucked in a book in the stacks.” Clive answered. “He said that poor Vivian thought that old Tomes was going to die of shock.” 

He stared at the letter, and broke the seal, and unfolded the parchment, and read the contents. While it was addressed to the Phoenix, he had written his full name and title, which meant this was no ordinary missive from his friend. “It’s Dion’s will…” He said. “And he signed it as Emperor.”

“What does it say?” Clive asked. 

 

Joshua cleared his throat. “ His Grace, Joshua Rosfield. Archduke of the Grand Duchy of Rosaria.

In the Year of 860, Sanbreque invaded Rosaria, and held an unjust occupation of your country, sending many hardships to you, your family, and your populace.”  Joshua began to recite. “Should I not return from our flight to Origin, it is my wish, as of the Year of 878, to release Rosaria from its Annexation and return your country in your capable hands, as it should have never left your family’s care. My Dragoons are under orders to pull any remaining forces from your borders at the fall of the Mothercrystal. Should you return to your rightful place as Archduke, trust that with this, none from Sanbreque shall question it.

In light of recent events, I ask not for acceptance, only forgiveness for the battle that we are to face to defeat the foe that threatens the very thing we have left, and everything we hold most dear. If you or your brother are reading this, then I trust that you have put Ultima in his place, and saved the world from his iron grasp on Valisthea, and it was my own cowardice that kept me from presenting this to you in person.

Thank you, my friend, for all of it. For granting me the chance to give Terence the burial he deserves. For giving me a place to call home that was more welcoming than my life in Oriflamme. That is a kindness that I cannot repay you or your brother.

May the Light of Great Greagor go with you,

His Radiance, Dion Lesage. Emperor of the Holy Imperial Providence of Sanbreque.”

 

“By the Flames, this would stop Sanbreque from trying to encroach our borders again.” Clive said as Joshua handed it to him, referring to the three times in the last year that the Lords of the Sabrequois court that tried to bring up the fact that Rosaria was still under imperial rule, at least until they told them that until they received orders from the Emperor, they held no power. This letter would solidify that they were free to do as they pleased.

“It would.” Joshua confirmed, mirroring his brother’s grin before they both looked back out towards the horizon. “This was timely, I will say, given the pushback I had received about building the university because we weren’t officially released from the Annexation…”

“And now, it appears that we are.” Clive heard the distinctive kweh of Ambrosia below. “Shall we visit Father and give him the happy news?”

“Yes, let’s go.” Joshua lingered a moment longer as his brother stood. “How mad was Jill when you left?” He asked as he took his brother’s hand to get to his feet. 

“Not as mad as you think. I was already up trying to get Sirenne to settle, so I told Jill to go back to sleep after Wade came to tell me that you had left.” Clive answered, referring to their newborn daughter. “She knows how hard things are this time of year for us.”

“I trust she is doing well?” Joshua knew that Jill fell ill shortly after they came home from their visit to the Hideaway which resulted in the early arrival of his niece, and they had been so busy that he hated that he'd been neglecting to see her. Felt terrible that court matters have kept him from his own wife as well.

“Yes. Jill’s doing much better now that she’s been able to get some rest.” Clive said as he mounted Ambrosia and smoothed a hand over her feathers before they took one another glance at the ruins.

“I’m sorry for keeping you away from her these recent weeks.”

“It's quite alright. You've been a busy man, Joshua. Which in turn, makes me a busy man, and Jill knows this too. She's been grateful for Jote's company, and I've been helping her with Sirenne and the twins when I can when Kaia’s not watching them.”

“Think you’ll have another one after her?” 

“No, I think she will be our last.”  Clive tried to hide the sadness in his voice. “The toll it took on Jill, I don't think I could make Jill go through that again. I don’t think I could go through that again.” 

“I don’t blame you.” Joshua agreed. Especially after Jote had to ask Joshua to physically drag Clive out of the infirmary that night when his niece was born upon Tarja's order. They were fortunate that Sirenne was born screaming, that Jill had survived the hard labor, he never wanted to hear Jill cry out in pain like that again. However, it was the undiluted terror in his brother’s face that he may lose both his wife and daughter that night that put a level of fear in Joshua’s own heart. A level of fear that he spent the weeks trying to shake, which did no favors to his nerves, knowing that Jote’s own due date in the coming months was fast approaching.

Clive read the anxious expression on his brother’s face as they approached Mann’s Hill, and descended the hill towards their father’s grave. “You’re worried about Jote, aren’t you?” He asked as they dismounted their chocobos and continued the rest on foot. 

“Is it that obvious?” Clive’s stern nod gave him the answer he needed. “Jote is strong willed and I know she’ll be fine, it’s just…” It broke Joshua’s heart each time Jote’s cycle came, to see that light leave her eyes, to watch her be disheartened month after month, and had held her for as long as she needed him to. It was watching her study restlessly for nights on end for anything that would help her, help them get with-child again. It took them nearly a year after their miscarriage to get as far along as they were, and he prayed to the Founder and the Phoenix that they had their child without further incident. “It just took us so long to try again, and I am scared , Clive.” He added quietly. 

“I know.” Clive said in equal quiet. “It’s perfectly normal to feel that way.”

“Were you this terrified, brother?” 

“I’m still terrified, but that is not a fear that I can’t balk away from. Not when the children need me. When Jill needs me.” Clive confirmed. That night that Kyren and Arian were born, it scared him, but that felt tame compared to the night that Sirenne arrived, and it had already stirred up unwanted bad dreams. From what he heard from their uncle, both Byron and Elwin harbored that fear as well, only their uncle suffered his worst nightmares, while their father did what he could to prevent it. “You have every right to be scared, Joshua. I know how long this wait has been for you both. However, you cannot let that blind you, not when Jote is going to need you at her side. She is going to be alright. Trust me.” 

Joshua looked out towards the Rosarian countryside and took a deep breath. That was a lot of trust that he had in his brother that he didn’t have for himself.

Notes:

I will admit, this past week has been a rough one creatively, mentally, and physically, and it kicked my ass, so I thank you so, so much for your patience for this chapter.

May see a longer gap in between chapters, depending on how things go with life and work, just letting you guys know, but rest assured, there is more to come.

I love you guys, and thank you again for the comments, and the kudos, they mean the world.💕

Chapter 28

Notes:

Jill and Jote receive some news, and they all attend a festival.

Bit of a longer chapter, but please enjoy!

Jill had grown to enjoy the monthly meetings with Jote and Dowager Lady Westmore. She wasn’t sure how she was going to feel about them at first, but it had grown to be an outlet for not only her, but for Jote as well; offering an ear to hear their grievances and in exchange, providing them far more knowledge and counsel than they anticipated that she was willing to share as an elder of the High Houses who has spent the last three decades alone in a world filled to the brim with power hungry men. Even more so when the white haired woman had earned their trust to know that she was truly looking out for them in a maternal way that was familiar to Jill for a small period of time, but completely foreign to her sister in law. 

“I see His Grace and Lord Marquess are notably absent today.” The widow spoke into her cup of tea. 

“His Grace and the Lord Marquess are out on personal business.” Jill said as she settled her cup back on its saucer. She couldn’t argue with Clive as he eased their daughter back to sleep before taking off in the predawn light after his brother. Jote had mentioned that Joshua was white as a sheet when he left this morning, so her husband and brother in law could take their time. 

“I trust they will return before the festivities in the village begin?”

“Rest assured, my lady, they will be back in time. It is a day of celebration and mourning for all of us after all.” Jote offered a small smile. “I hope you understand.”

“All too well, my dear lady. Forgive an old woman for her prying inquiry.” The elderly woman said as she rested her cup on the table before them. “Allow me to take a moment to put a pause on our business today to extend my congratulations to you, Your Grace. I hear that you have an heir on the way.” 

“Yes, we do.” Jote resisted the urge to rest her hand over the small swell, but her smile widened. “We are overjoyed.”

“Do you know when you expect the babe to arrive?”

“If they don't follow in their cousin’s footsteps and come early, they should be here not long after the Autumn Equinox.” She responded with a small laugh, earning a giggle from Jill, who covered her mouth to keep herself from breaking out into a fit of laughter.

“That is exciting news.” Lady Westmore turned to Jill with a faint smile herself. “Also congratulations as well on the birth of your daughter, Lady Jill.”

“Thank you, my lady.” Jill responded. “A thank you as well for being willing to allow us to push our meeting back because of it.”

“Think nothing of it. I am pleased to hear that you and your daughter are healthy.” Lady Westmore folded her hands into her lap. “That being said, there is a topic I wish to speak about with the both of you.” She said as she leaned forward slightly. “If you both are well enough to discuss it, that is.”

Jill and Jote glanced at each other before returning their attention to the Dowager before them. “Of course, my lady. Speak freely.” Jill replied, as the two of them shifted in their respective seats.

“I was going to petition this with His Grace during our next council meeting, but I wanted to discuss this with you two first.”

“Such as?” Jill raised a brow.

“As you both are well aware, I am a rich, old woman, with no heirs to leave my dying household and fortune to.” A sadness glossed over her aged grey eyes for a moment before it was gone with a blink. “With that in mind, one of the reasons I requested these audiences with you both was to not only bestow my lessons and counsel, but also determine if I could name one of your children the heir and successor of my Household.” Lady Westmore continued and Jill’s heart leapt to her throat. 

“May we ask as to why you chose us? Out of everyone within the court to receive this honor, why us?”

“I see the two women whose husbands hold you equal to themselves, who grant you as much power as they hold. You are two courageous, strong, young ladies who will not let anyone silence you. Will stop at nothing to protect yourself and those you love. Who wears their scars as other ladies would wear their finest jewels and silks, and keep a silver dagger on their person, as well as their tongue. Those have not gone unnoticed by me.” Jill opened her mouth to protest, but the woman raised a wrinkled hand. “Do not mistake my words as ill judgments against you, or Her Grace in any means, my lady. You need not to defend yourself in regards to the hardships that you fought through to get to where you are now. That itself is already showing promise for the next generation, which is what Rosaria, what this world, needs before all else, and with that, I see no one else worthy to inherit my House.”

“How long?” Jote asked quietly. There was no hiding the heartbreak that resonated in her small question.

“I am but a woman of five and seventy years who has lived her life to the fullest.” The widow said. “I may not see another summer, but that is not what we are here to discuss, Your Grace.”

“You are far too kind, my lady.” Jill dipped her head with gratitude. “We won’t be able to provide an answer today,” She looked at Jote. “But I'm certain that we'll be able to discuss this before the next meeting of the council.”

“I do not wish to bring any unease to either of you, nor do I expect an answer right away.” Lady Westmore picked up her tea, and drank from it deeply. “I understand that this is quite a task to ask this of you both, as you have your own lines of succession that you must determine as well. However, I am making it known that it is my will that this is so.” 

“If that is your wish,” Jote swallowed the lump that gathered in her throat. “Then we will make it so, my lady.” 

 

The news of Lady Westmore’s request weighed heavily on Jill’s mind long after their meeting had concluded. If she wasn’t pregnant when Clive left, had he died at Origin, she likely would have lived the rest of her days alone, would have spent her years like Lady Westmore. Jill knew she shouldn’t mourn the dying life of the woman who played a poorly dealt hand the best she could, and was perfectly content with how things were with her, Jill couldn’t shake the anxiety of it from her body as she held her children, eternally grateful for the life that she was so scared now to lose. 

After Clive and Joshua returned home, and they made preparations to go into the village to join in on the celebrations in the afternoon before sundown, the ring in her ear didn’t go away even with the endless chatter, music and shouting of vendors that were scattered throughout the cobblestone streets. To her surprise, none of which woke Sirenne, who was fast asleep against her chest, nestled peacefully in the wrap tied around her. 

“My star?” Clive asked her, a nudge from Torgal broke her out of her inner thoughts that overwhelmed her. “Everything alright?” He adjusted his hold on Arian, who sat on his shoulders, before bracing his hand on the small of her back. 

“Yeah, I’m alright.” Jill turned to look at her husband, and noticed the absence of the elder of their twins. “Where’s Kyren?” She countered, as he had both boys at one point, but now only one of them was in his possession. 

“Joshua and Jote have him.” He said softly, slight concern filling his voice. Jill had to have heard the conversation between the two of them, but then again, she had a veil cast over her eyes until just now. Clive moved slightly and there sat Kyren atop his uncle’s shoulders a few stalls over, the toddler’s hands buried deep in Joshua’s hair as they gazed upon the vendor’s wares, Jote smiling at her nephew as the ebony haired boy let out a series of giggles. “You and Jote have been quiet most of the afternoon. Did something happen?” 

“Just some news that we would rather not discuss out here.” Jill answered. “I'm sorry.”

“It's alright, my star. I’m just worried about you is all.” Clive pressed a kiss to her temple, Arian reaching to touch his mother’s head as well before Clive brushed the stray strands out of her face. “We can talk about it later when you're ready.”

“Alright.” Jill nodded. While she and Jote had spoken a little bit of it when they retreated to the nursery earlier, the two of them came to the conclusion to speak with Clive and Joshua before deciding which of their children would inherit the House, but Jill already knew that it would likely be one of her children to receive the title. The nervous ringing in her ear stopped completely as cheers erupted at the launch of a firework nearby, which nearly made her leap out of her skin. “Founder…” She cursed, as she pressed a hand over her chest, her heart thundering underneath her fingers.

“You’re okay.” Clive said quietly, as they carried on through the crowd to catch up to Joshua and Jote and their son.

 

As the sun made its descent through the sky, the villagers grew more and more lively, dancing and skipping in circles around crimson, ivory, and gold ribboned may-poles, fireworks and fire breathers brought the entertainment with music accompanied with singing and children running passed them with a symphony of giggles and playful screams escaping them, flower petals fell lazily around them. Even as they made their rounds about the village, their townsfolk greeted them with smiles, giving them their sympathies on the day, and well wishes; gifts and trinkets, food and drink without accepting a single gil from them. Before long, Jill and Jote had wreaths of snow daisies atop their heads, the twins donning the paper crowns that were meant for Joshua and Clive, a scarlet scarf tied around Torgal’s neck. The absolute joy in the twins’s cerulean eyes mirrored that of their father and uncle that carried them as they watched the festival turn effervescent before them. 

“I failed to ask you earlier, but where did you and Joshua go this morning?” Jill asked Clive as they shared a tankard of sweet mulled wine. 

“Pheonix Gate, just in time to see the sunrise and then paid a visit to Father.”

“Is Uncle Byron going to join us? He seems to have made himself scarce today.”

“We saw him at Father’s grave and he said he would join us anon, but didn’t say when. I assume later tonight before the sending of the lanterns.” Clive answered. “He hates today as much as we do.” He added just loud enough for Jill to hear. A firework flew into the late afternoon sky, sparks shimmering above them, Arian’s laughter filled their ears as he pointed up towards the fading embers, and Clive let out a low chuckle. “You like that, my light?” When his son let out a small noise of awe as another firework followed, Clive’s heart melted. “I like them too.”

Jill smiled as Jote and Joshua returned from collecting some food from a vendor nearby, Kyren already content with the honeybun in his hands as he ate it. “My night, did Uncle Joshua and Auntie Jote give you a honeybun?” Jill commented nervously, seeing her son's fingers already covered from the sweet syrup that coated it as Kyren nodded excitedly. “Oh Joshua, I hope you're prepared to have sticky toddler hands in your hair when he's done.” 

“It'll be fine, Jill.” Joshua said, taking another honeybun and handing it to his nephew that sat on his brother's shoulders. “Besides, Clive's about to suffer the same fate. Nothing that a bath can't fix, right brother?” 

“Right.” Clive said with a grin as he pulled a drink from the wine before offering the tankard to Joshua. 

A whistle came from far off that brought the four of them to attention, Torgal perking up at the sharp note, each of them feeling for their daggers that they permitted themselves to carry, but it was short lived, murmurs in the crowd spread like wildfire as they began to congregate towards the village square. The bonfires have been lit. Is it time? I heard the Archduke and his family joined us this year. Perhaps they should release the first lanterns.  

Jill adjusted her daughter in her wrap before glancing up at Clive. He remained alert, but kept a hand on his son, the other in its place on her lower back, ready to grab his blade at the first sight of danger. She shifted her gaze to Jote as she instinctively stepped closer to Joshua, who mirrored his brother to guard his nephew, and his wife.

“Are we enjoying ourselves?” Uncle Byron called from behind them, and the sudden tension between them faded. 

“We’re certainly doing our best, Uncle.” Joshua replied. “Though, it seems that the people are making it quite difficult to not do so, even on a day like this.” 

“That I can agree with you, dear nephew.” Byron managed a smile. “It will forever be a day of remembrance for us, but for them, they will know it as a day of celebration.” He continued, gesturing to his great niece and nephews, and the children that continued to play around them as the dusk had begun to fall. “I heard they lit the bonfires, and are preparing the lanterns. Shall we?”

“Lead the way.” Clive agreed. 

 

Jill had not anticipated the amount of people that filled the village square, nor did she anticipate the parted crowd as they approached the center, and absolute silence that hushed the once joyous environment as they were given three lanterns, and a boy of ten summers held a candle before them. 

“Whenever you are ready, Your Grace.” The boy said quietly. “We will follow.” 

Jill watched Joshua shift uneasily on his feet as he observed the townsfolk around them. A speech wasn’t necessary, not as a solemn wave filled the air. They knew that there were no words that could have changed the outcome of all they suffered the last two decades. He and Jote held the lantern out for the boy to light it before gesturing for him to light Byron’s, and then the boy moved to light her and Clive’s. 

Joshua took a deep breath before Jote nodded, a sad smile on her face as the soft light illuminated the space around them. “May we never see another tragedy like the Night of Flames again…” He murmured before they gently lifted the lantern and it floated up into the night sky. 

Clive met Jill’s eyes. “For what we lost, and what we found. For everything that came after.” He said as they followed suit, and their lantern drifted upwards after Joshua and Jote’s. 

Byron took in his nephews’ lanterns that began their ascent to the heavens and after a long moment of watching their gentle dance around each other, he sent his lantern into the dark in silence. 

The lanterns around them began to flutter to life, a hushed prayer from each of the villagers as they sent their lanterns into the sky, and a haunting chill washed over Jill as Torgal let out a mournful howl. She couldn’t stop the tears that welled as she tucked herself at Clive’s side, Jote weaving her fingers with hers as they held each other. Once all of the lanterns had taken flight, Jill found her sons completely enamored at the elegance of them drifting to join the stars, half eaten honeybuns forgotten in their hands. Clive pressed a kiss to her temple as she finally let out a breath that she didn't realize that she was holding. That their children will never know the Night of Flames other than this.

Notes:

There is a light at the end of the tunnel, and we have Shuate baby coming!

Thank you all who have enjoyed the story so far! We'll see you in the next chapter!

Chapter 29

Notes:

GirlDad! Clive just wants to protect his daughter and the book is completed.

“Shhh, my treasure… It’s quite alright.” Clive whispered softly as he brought a crying Sirenne into his arms. “It’s just a little thunder, it’s alright. I’m here…” He pressed a kiss to his daughter’s head as he tried to calm her down, Kyren and Arian already calling for their mother as the autumn evening thunderstorm that woke them raged on outside; the lightning reminding him of Cid and Ramuh with their violet hues as it stretched across the sky, heavy rain battered hard against the glass of the window. “I’m here…” He repeated as he wiped away her tears and began to gently rock her. His daughter was so small in his arms, smaller than her brothers when they were her age, or even Waljas when he last held him. Her tiny hands clung onto him with all of her might, her grip tightened when lightning flashed once again, and she flinched when the responding thunder cracked, and it put a knife in his heart to see fear in her silver eyes. “Oh, it’s alright. Your Uncle and I used to be scared of storms too. Don’t worry, little one, your father will be with you until it passes.” 

 

Clive had paced about the room, humming low, whispering a story under his breath until Sirenne’s cry fell quiet and the rain lightened up, when Jill’s form appeared in the doorway. “And how are we doing here, my love?” She whispered as she approached them, a slender hand smoothing over their daughter’s ebony hair. 

“She just fell back asleep.” He answered in equal quiet, as he leaned to kiss her. “How are the boys?”

“It took some calming down and a story or two, but they’re asleep. Torgal’s with them now.” Jill confirmed, as she observed their daughter in her husband’s arms, and the death grip she had on her father’s shirt as she nestled close to soak in his natural warmth. “It seems she had quite a fright.”

“She was shaking like a leaf.” Clive chuckled under his breath as he followed his wife’s gaze to Sirenne’s grip, and the noise of protest she made in her sleep as Jill tried to take her into her arms. “I don’t think she’s going to let me go, my star.” He was going to meet Joshua to assist him with the last of the edits for his book, but he would hate to put her down in her bassinet and risk waking her and leaving Jill in the lurch with a fussy child, when she seemed so content to be with him. He felt like he’s barely seen any of his children in the recent weeks since leaving on Joshua’s annual tour of Rosaria, and then coming home to work tirelessly to fulfill his duties as Lord Commander to train the new recruits of shields with Wade. 

“Then take her with you, my love.” Jill brushed her hand across the scar on his cheek, as if sensing his hesitation. “I’m sure Joshua wouldn’t mind having her listen in on your stories while you write.”

“Are you sure?” 

“You deserve time with your daughter too, Clive.” Jill replied, pressing another kiss to his lips. “Even if it’s just this.”

“Alright, I shouldn’t be long.” He said as he gathered a blanket and was careful as he tucked it around her, and she curled up against him. 

“Take your time. If I'm not awake when you return, I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Clive dared another kiss before leaving the room, and began his way to Joshua’s study. He raised his free hand to knock when the door opened before he had a chance to, only to find Jote pulling her dressing gown close around her as she made to leave, and his brother behind her, leaning against the desk, rubbing the back of his neck. There was no mistaking that his hair was tussled as if someone had run their fingers through it, the spouting bruises at his collarbone or the half laced ties of his tunic that told Clive far more than he wanted of what transpired prior to his arrival.

“Clive–” Jote backed up before she ran into Clive, resting a hand over her round middle as she looked back at Joshua before turning back to her brother in law. “My apologies. It appears that we lost track of time.” 

“No apologies needed, Jote.” Clive said with a kind smile. “It appears it is I who should be apologizing. I hope I wasn’t disturbing you two.” 

“Not at all.” She gave him a sheepish smile before it widened slightly at the sight of her niece tucked in the crook of his arm. “Have a good night.” 

“Good night, Jote.” Clive stepped aside to let his sister in law pass. As she retreated to the rooms she shared with Joshua, he loosened a quiet laugh as he closed the door behind him. “Took advantage of the storm, did we?” Not that he blamed Joshua for wanting to share any free moments with his wife, as Clive had felt the same. Since Jote was too far along to join them on the annual tour around Rosaria, Jill had elected to stay behind with her and their children, and their respective duties have kept them apart for longer than they wanted.

“You can say that.” Joshua replied, his own husky chuckle left him as he pushed off his desk, running a hand through his sex-mused curls. “Did you?”

“No, unfortunately, the storm woke the children instead.” Clive countered, gesturing to Sirenne. “There’ll be other storms for Jill and I.” 

“There will indeed be other storms.” Joshua laughed again as he poured a short glass of the dark amber whiskey from the crystal decanter. “Care for a glass?”

“Just a small one.” Clive agreed. Their father had always enjoyed a glass after a long day, and Elwin had given him his first glass when he turned fifteen after he received the Blessing of the Phoenix. “Thanks.” He adjusted his hold on Sirenne and took the glass that Joshua offered to him, taking a sip before setting it on the desk as he sat down.

“I see that Lady Rosfield is gracing us with her presence this evening.” He smirked as he gestured to his niece. 

“Don’t call her that.” Clive’s response came with far much more venom than he wanted and bit back the additional remark he had prepared as he looked down at his sleeping daughter when he saw Joshua’s face falter. He hated it. Hated the fact that Sirenne was to inherit Lady Westmore’s House, to be shackled to a life that he would have rather had her choose herself at sixteen, not forced upon her at two months of age.

Jill and Jote had told them prior to that council meeting last month, that Lady Westmore had planned to name one of the children as heir of her Estate, and they were met with a difficult decision, and a conversation that they did not plan to have with the children so young. Joshua and Jote, unsure if they would be able to conceive another given how much they struggled to have the one on the way, and had already come to the conclusion that the title will pass to them, regardless if they had a boy or a girl, much to the Houses’ dismay; which left the house to any of their three children, their boys will likely either be soldiers or scholars as they get older, and be there for their cousin, which leaves their daughter to either be married off to one the other Houses or be the sole recipient of her own House. He and Jill argued for two days before he finally surrendered, and reluctantly agreed, and spent that entire council meeting with a scowl on his face; perhaps grateful that he didn’t have Ifrit’s flames when it was decided that Jill would assume stewardship of the estate until Sirenne was of age once the Dowager passes. The only blessing it presented was that she would be free to do what she could please when it officially became hers.

“That was insensitive of me. I know how you feel about the matter, so I apologize.” Joshua said quietly, raising a hand in surrender sensing the rage that began to come off his brother. “I was only commenting that you brought her with you.”

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped.” Clive shook his head, reaching for the glass and downing the remaining whiskey, wincing at the burn of the alcohol that went down his throat and warmth settled in his belly. “She’s had a tight grip on me since the storm ended, and I didn’t want to risk waking her. Jill figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all.” Joshua polished off his glass, his own grimace reminding him how much he didn’t drink the amber spirit often. “She has as much right as my own child would to be in here. I would ask to hold her, but it seems she’s content to be with you right now.” He chuckled. 

“Even I'm not going to attempt to move her now.” Clive mirrored his brother and smiled softly. 

Joshua slumped into his chair, and pulled his tunic to attempt to cover the love marks that his wife left him before looking at one of the pieces of parchment scattered across his desk. He picked up his pen and sat there for a moment. “Can I ask you something, Clive?” 

“Ask away.” 

“Was Jill ever…?” Joshua's face flooded red and Clive knew it wasn't because of the alcohol. “You know…”

“Ravenous?” Clive finished, raising a brow. Definitely not a conversation that he was expecting to have with his little brother, but he had to remember that they were both grown and married men. He set his empty glass back on the desk as Joshua nodded. Jill had craved for his company in bed when she carried their twins and daughter, more so towards the end of her pregnancies, and he was convinced that it contributed to Sirenne’s unanticipated arrival. “Yes, both times while she was pregnant.” Clive answered honestly. 

“Well, at least I’m not going mad.” Joshua let out a nervous laugh. Jote had started to ask him if he would touch her, love her, anything, and he’s been happy to oblige her. He had initially brushed it off as just their separation in the recent weeks with the annual tour, and their respective duties that have kept them both occupied; only to see each other before they retire for the night, or during the rare meals he had been able to attend with her. “This is in no way a complaint from me, however, there have been a few times where I wouldn’t have been surprised if she tied me to the bed.” 

“Careful, brother.” Clive stifled the husky snigger that he couldn't resist from making. “You spell that into the aether, and she very well might.” 

Joshua’s blushed face flushed a deeper red. “When you put it that way…”

“Then we need not to discuss it further,” Clive raised his hand, and finished his chuckle. “And if she does, you don’t need to tell me.” He didn’t need to know what Joshua and Jote did in the bedroom, nor did his brother need to hear of what he and Jill did in theirs.  

Joshua smirked. “Noted.” 

Clive got to his feet and moved to the other side of the desk and braced himself at Joshua’s side. “Now, let’s see what we have.” He murmured as he picked up the recent pages of Joshua’s writings and began to proofread them, making suggestions to his brother when he needed it. “Where did we leave off last time?”

“I think…” Joshua began, flipping through his pages until he found a page without Clive’s annotations. “It looks like Stonhyrr.” 

“Back to Stonhyrr, it is.” Clive pulled up his chair and picked up his pen and they got to work putting everything into detail.

 

When they reached their journey from Ash, to their flight to Origin, they lost track of time, unable to stop the recollections of the events and the hard fought battles that led to Valisthea’s liberation of Ultima. Entering in Joshua’s final minutes as the frail Dominant of the Phoenix while he passed that power to his brother, putting Jill and Jote’s experiences and grievances of that night to the page before reaching Clive's fading moments on that black sanded beach of the Twilight Coast as he stared up at the moon and stars above him. The fourth hour bell rang out and it snapped them both away from their trance, and with the threat of dawn coming, strong yawns and visible exhaustion, they both looked down at the remaining pages.

“What do you think?” Joshua said in relief as he met Clive's eyes. 

Clive shifted his gaze from his brother to the final line on the parchment, and nodded with satisfaction. “One for the history books, Joshua.”

“Really?”

“Without a doubt.” Clive bobbed his head again, and without another word, Joshua put his pen down, and let the ink on the page dry before rising from his chair to embrace his brother. They held each other for a few moments, careful not to squish the baby girl that continued to sleep between them. “It’s been a long night, get some rest.” 

“You as well, Clive. Thank you.” 

When they separated, Joshua turned to dim the light on the desk and the brothers left the study together. Joshua bid Clive and Sirenne a good night, before he entered his rooms and was quiet as he pulled Jote close, kissed her neck and let the exhaustion sweep him away.

Clive was careful as he settled his daughter in her cradle and then crawled into bed with Jill. As if sensing his presence, his wife curled up beside him and wrapped her arms around him. Even as he began to drift, he pressed a kiss to his wife’s temple, and held her in his arms. 

‘And thus did our journey end.’ was the last line that Joshua wrote, and Clive could not have thought of a better way to end their tale.

Notes:

Believe it or not, but the end is near. So the next couple of chapters may be a tad longer, but all for a happy ending.

Thank you all again for those who have been along for this with me and those who have left comments and kudos! I love you all!

Chapter 30

Notes:

In which we welcome a little flame to the world.

 

***CW; please read with caution as we have reached the arrival for Joshua and Jote's baby.

Jote couldn’t describe the heavy discomfort that she had as she laid in the infirmary in nothing but her shift with Lady Margarette smoothing her hands over her abdomen, nor could she restrain the hiss at the responding kick to her ribs from the healer’s touch. 

“I’m sorry, Your Grace.” The older woman apologized. 

“It’s fine.” Jote breathed, relieved to feel the movement, having not felt their child move for most of the day prior and that morning. 

She was so tired. Between the spotted bleeding, the false contractions, the lack of sleep that she hadn’t been getting, and the meetings that she had taken on to help ease the load off of Joshua's shoulder's, to say she was exhausted was an understatement. Even the times that her husband had pleasured her in the last week until she saw stars hadn’t been enough to either grant her a full night’s rest or to start her labors, the baby seemed perfectly content to keep her awake and wait until the last possible moment to arrive.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, everything seems fine, and the babe is in perfect position. You're carrying quite low, my dear lady.” She spoke as she removed her hands, and concluded her check up. “The spotting is normal at this stage, but you may have a boy before too long.”

“Thank you, Lady Margarette.” Jote sat up, and rested a hand over the considerable swell of her stomach before flicking her short hair from her face. “I’ve never been one to believe such superstitions on the matter.” Jote continued as she eased herself off the bed, and began to dress. “Lady Jill carried her daughter low as well and we were mistaken.”

“Of course, forgive me for believing an old wives tale." Lady Margarette approached to help Jote with her stays of her dress. “In any regard, I implore you to take the day and relax. No need to wear yourself out before your labors begin.”

“I have a meeting that I cannot miss, Lady Margarette. After that, then yes, I will resign myself to bed until the child comes as you have requested.” She answered, as she adjusted one more tie on her gown, and smoothed out her skirts.  

“Don’t hesitate to send for me, should you need it.” The healer said firmly, Jote giving her a gesture of agreement as she left and closed the door behind her. 

 

“Everything alright?” Joshua asked, bracing a hand on her lower back. Despite Jote wanting him in the room, Lady Margarette was in charge, and promptly kicked him out. She wished Tarja was here, but the physicker remained at the Hideaway, as Edda was expecting her second child, her first with Gav and she too was due any day. 

“Yes, my beloved.” Jote said with a small smile, stealing a kiss from him. “The babe is taking their time is all…”

“You don't have to join me in this meeting with Cyril.”  

“I want to.” She replied. The meeting in question was to discuss the ceremony that would declare their child as their heir now that the line of succession was no longer determined by the Dominant, and she didn’t dare miss it. 

“No one would blame you if you chose to rest.” He brushed a hand along her waist as they approached his study.

“I’ll be alright, Joshua.”

“Your Graces.” Cyril said with a deep bow as they walked in, the Burning Quill accompanied by Garrett and Adelyne. “I am pleased to see you both.”

“Thank you, Cyril.” Jote said to the Burning Quill as they sat down. “Shall we begin?”

 

It took everything for Jote to keep a straight face during that meeting, her persisting discomfort getting worse, thinking that it was yet another day of false contractions that plagued her. The meeting went well for the most part, knowing that final preparations would be made after their child was born. 

“Oh, my lady, at your request, I have some answers to your inquiry about your encounter with the Phoenix.” Cyril said as their meeting concluded, and Jote took a deep breath, and she sensed Joshua stiffening beside her. She had mentioned her encounter with the Phoenix with Cyril months ago after she found out they were finally expecting, out of pure curiosity to see if any spouses of the Dominant, or if any members of the Undying received such visits from their order’s Divine. The Phoenix told her that the price of her life that night was a gift, and that they sought nothing in return but it was only until recently did she begin to doubt the Eikon’s words when she was with Jill during her hard labor and she had to swallow back her anxiety she now carried for herself, fearing if she would face a similar experience. However, because of her own fears, she elected not to tell the very person who had been as much a companion to the firebird as she had been to Joshua.

She risked a glance to her husband, and his face was unreadable. “And? What did you find?” She asked as she returned her attention to the Burning Quill, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. 

“Upon searching amongst our oldest texts as far back as the Founder Dominant in the Archives, there have been no records of anyone from our order, Knight or Acolyte, to be granted an audience from the Phoenix. Only the Dominant has been known to speak with their Eikon, however, not all Keepers of the Flames receive counsel from them. You, Your Grace, have been the first that the firebird spoke to beyond that connection.”

Jote nodded. “Is there anything else?” She countered. The irritation coming from Joshua was no one's fault but her own. He had said that the Phoenix had gone silent for him since the Fall of Origin, so she knew that he was going to not be pleased to hear that the Eikon defied all odds to speak to her, but hadn’t said a whisper to him at all. 

“No, there is not.” Cyril said, rising to his feet.

Joshua remained impassive as he met the Burning Quill’s eyes. “Until our next meeting, Master Cyril.” 

“Likewise, Your Grace.” He said as placed his hand over his heart and bowed low, the two hooded shadows behind him followed. “My lady.” He added, flicking his gaze to Jote as she stood.

 

“When did you plan on telling me that you spoke with the Phoenix?” Joshua questioned after Cyril, Garrett, and Adelyne left.  

Jote closed her eyes, and breathed deep. Damn Cyril for bringing up her encounter before she could warn Joshua of it during their meeting, because she knew that she was going to have to explain herself. “I did plan to tell you eventually, my beloved.” She began, raised her hands in surrender, fully prepared to put out non-existent flames. “Please, I had my reasons to keep this from you…”

“Such as? You spoke with my Eikon and didn’t tell me.” 

“I don't want to argue, Joshua.” She said as she backed away from him, but it didn’t stop him from seizing her wrist and pulling her back towards him. “Let go of me.” She said quietly. “My beloved, let go of me.” She repeated when his grip didn’t loosen. 

“Who else knew of this before me?” Joshua pressed, both of his hands held onto her wrists now like shackles, not even seeing the flash of pain and fear in her coffee colored eyes as he shook her slightly. “Who else? Clive? Jill?” 

“Just Cyril. No one else.” She shook her head. She didn’t dare burden her sister or brother in law with that revelation, not when they too were going through so much. “Please forgive me.” Her voice shook from the growing discomfort in her lower abdomen that warned her of her rising temper, and it was an effort not to cry out. 

“Why didn't you tell me sooner?” 

“I was scared, Joshua!” Jote snapped as she tried to pull away from her husband's grasp but he held firm. “I was scared to tell you about the Phoenix, because I didn’t want to add another burden to your shoulders to wonder what the cost of my life might be to continue your bloodline.” 

“Cost?” He was taken aback, betrayed even. What did the Phoenix ask of her? “You should have told me, then I would have been able to help you.”

“And do what exactly?” Jote countered. “Magic is no longer at our beckoned call. What could you have done?”

“I would have found something.” Joshua's voice was hollow. “I never believed you to be a coward, Jote.”

“A coward? I didn’t tell you because you're just as frightened as I am, and don't tell me that you aren't, because I know you, Joshua Rosfield. You’re terrified that you'll lose us both!” She shot back, unable to stop the words from leaving her tongue, finally pushing him away from her as her near infinite patience ran out and her temper flared. “If it wasn't for the Phoenix, I would have DIED that night!” Silence fell between them, and his face faltered as the weight of her statement finally sunk in. Too much. Too far. “Please, Joshua, I know I–” Jote brought in a quivering breath as that discomfort tightened until it turned sharp as it flared up her back and she couldn't stop the cry that time. She swayed on her feet, bracing herself against his desk as it grew stronger. 

“Jote.” Joshua's voice broke as he took a step towards her. He watched her face twist in agony, and moved to steady her, the noise that left her hurt him more than the words that she just threw at him. He settled a hand on her back and felt her tense up at his touch, before her own hand went to her middle. Shit. 

She shook her head, trying to breath through the pain as it took ages for it to ease up. “I know I should have told you–” She choked out a sob. This is not how she expected her labors to start, but their child, it seemed, had impeccable timing to seize the argument before it got worse.

“Founder, Jote…” Joshua cursed under his breath as he tucked an arm behind her knees and pulled her up into his arms in a bridal carry, and navigated out of the study. “I've got you…” 

“I'm sorry…” She managed through a stifled groan as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her face buried in his shoulder.

“It's okay… It's okay…” He whispered into her hair. “I'm sorry too…”

 

Jote had begged Joshua not to take her to the infirmary, knowing full well that Lady Margarette would not permit him to be with her in there after her waters break no matter what, so he took her to the Archduchess’ chambers, passing by Lady Marleigh to send for Jill and Lady Margarette to meet them at her earliest convenience. As soon as he set her on the bed, he began to help her undo the stays of her gown, stripping her down to her shift before pressing his forehead against hers; brushing away the tears that slipped from her eyes, to rectify their disagreement, to share a moment of intimate peace before all hell broke loose. 

“You’re not a coward, my darling…” Joshua whispered at her lips. “I should never have called you that… ”

“You had every right too,” Jote’s voice was small as she gripped his hands and squeezed. “Because I am…”

He waited for the tension in her body to ease before continuing. “To be angry at you over something as small as speaking to the Phoenix, what does that make me? If anyone is a coward, it’s me. Especially when you had your reasons for why.” Jote met his gaze, and he could see the hurt swirl. “Can you forgive me?” He asked.

“Forgiven…” She replied as she pressed his hands to the curve of her stomach, leaning in for a kiss, before she winced. “I think our little flame was tired of listening to you interrogate me.” 

“I think so.” Joshua husked a laugh. “I’ll be here for everything. No matter what, alright?”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” He returned her kiss. Jill and Lady Margarette would need to have Clive drag him out of the room for him to break that promise. A knock on the door had them separate and Jote stiffened. “Everything is going to be alright.” Joshua took her hands and kissed them both. If only one of them had to be brave, he would have to find the courage for both of them. “I promise.” 

“Your Grace, if you are going to stay, you are going to work.” Lady Margarette warned Joshua as she entered the room, Jill in tow. 

“If that is the price I must pay to stay,” Joshua returned bluntly. “Then put me to work, my lady.”

 

“Almost here, Jote. You’re almost there.” Jill encouraged, barely audible over Jote’s guttural scream before she leaned back against the pillows that propped her up. 

Jote let out a shaking whimper in response as Joshua dabbed the sweat from her brow with a cloth, and each person in the room understood the unsaid words between them. I can’t. I can’t. ican’tican’tican’t.

“I know, my dear lady.” Lady Margarette said, checking her progress. “I know, but you are doing very well. Take a moment to breathe.” 

Joshua pressed a kiss to Jote’s temple. “You’re okay, my darling… You’re okay.” 

“Your Grace, fetch me that bowl of warm water, and fresh linens, if you will please.” Margarette ordered Joshua. He pressed another kiss to Jote’s temple, rolling up his sleeves before leaving his wife’s side. As much as he hated it, he had given Lady Margarette his word. When he returned to the eldest woman in the room, linens and water in hand, he did not anticipate the blood that covered Jote’s thighs, stained her shift, and the linens that draped at the edge of the bed from when her waters broke not an hour prior, all that seemed to flow with no end. Before he could let Jote see his worry, Lady Margarette grabbed his hands and guided him where she needed him. “Deep breath now, my lady. Just a bit more.”

“I can't–” She rasped, finally voicing aloud the words that every nerve in her body screamed. “I can't…”

“Yes, you can, Jote.” Joshua said as Jill brushed the hair from her pale face. It had been a long night for all of them, he could see her adrenaline flag but they were so close. “Just a little bit more.” 

Jote’s breathing hitched, feeling her strength wane with each passing moment. She squeezed Jill’s hand as sharp lightning shot up her spine, which did nothing but make her already overstimulated senses hit a breaking point. A groan passed through gritted teeth, forcing herself to muster everything she had left to push through the pain. She took in a staggering breath as newborn cries filled the room, taking a moment to savor the sound as she fell limp against her pillows once more. 

“Congratulations, Your Grace. You’re the first Archduke to personally deliver his heir.” Margarette announced as she began to clean off the babe. She turned to Jote. “You have quite a handsome boy, my lady.”

Jote couldn’t help her own pained giggle at the statement as she lifted her head at the sound of her husband’s responding chuckle and found Joshua smiling at her, eyes lined with silver before the healer took their son from his father's arms and set him on Jote’s chest, and there was no holding back her own tears. “Hello, my little flame…” She whispered with an exhausted smile. He was so warm, like his father. 

When Lady Margarette released Joshua from his duties, he returned to Jote's side, running his fingers through her hair as he pressed his forehead against hers. “You did it, my darling.” He whispered, a husky chuckle of relief leaving him as he kissed her. He looked at Jill, as she pulled a blanket over them to help alleviate the shake that Jote now had as shock ran its course. “What do you think of your nephew?”

“He’s beautiful. Wait until Clive meets him.” Jill answered with a smile on her face. “Just try to relax, alright?” She added to her sister before leaving them to help Lady Margarette.

Jote nodded as she winced. She tried not to focus on the pain that wracked her body, as she counted little fingers and toes, there was no missing the phoenix feather shaped birthmark tucked neatly behind his ear, just barely hidden behind the heavy strawberry blonde curls their son possessed. 

“What should we name him?” Joshua asked her as he held her, letting her nestle close.

“We could name him after your father.” She flicked her gaze to her husband, searching his eyes for approval. 

“Are you sure?” He was going to ask what her father’s name was, but he remembered that she barely knew her parents before her life with the Undying. The only father figures that she had in her life were Cyril and the previous Burning Quill. He pressed his lips to her temple as she nodded. “Elwin it is.” He murmured into her hair.

Notes:

We have reached the Penultimate Chapter. 🥹

Next chapter will be the last, so please forgive me if I take my time with it. 💕

Thank you so much for all that have come along for the ride. Thank you all got those who have left kudos, and comments. I love you all.