It was evening as the ships of Tristain began to return home, their round trip journey bringing them back to where they had started over the dimly lit streets and squares of the their Kingdom's Capital.
News of their return had been sent forward by Dragon messenger to the Palace where Suguha had just been sitting down to dinner with Yui, Louise, and Princess Henrietta when word had arrived. By the time the ships became visible in the darkening sky, a congregation had already gathered to greet them.
Suguha wrapped her arms tightly around Yui from behind. Both shivering slightly in the strangely chill evening air.
The messenger hadn't given any specifics, only reporting breathlessly that the mission had been a resounding success. There had been few losses, and Prince Wales Tudor had been successfully rescued. By the time Suguha had had a chance to ask about her brother, it had already been faster to just come out and see for themselves.
One by one, the ships began their slow descent to land in the fields outside of the city, met by flights of Manticore and Dragon Knights who signaled a challenge to each in turn until only one ship was left alone in the skies, slender hull casting a dark silhouette, sails catching the light of the early rising blue moon.
At last, lines were cast down from the final ship and caught by ground crews who helped to guide it into a waiting cradle. Sails were brought in, masts were folded, the hull settled heavily, creaking as weight shifted from the ballasting engine to the skin of the ship. Silence fell, the gangplank was dropped, and the the first passengers began to disembark.
Suguha watched with baited breath.
The sick and wounded were carried off first, men atop stretchers followed closely by attendant Undine Healers and Royalist Physicians. They were met by more healers as soon as they set foot on solid ground, carrying the worst cases quickly back towards the city and the infirmary at the Champ de Mars Training facility.
They were followed by the walking wounded, those who had been hurt in the fighting but had been able to make it to the ships on their own. Those who were judged seriously hurt were sent after the other severely injured while the others were simply lead aside to have their wounds examined and redressed.
Finally, the fit soldiers and sailors began to disembark, men who were unhurt, but haggard, tired looking as if they hadn't rested well in ages. Compared to the Tristanians all around them, even these able bodied men looked thin and sickly. Amazingly though, they carried themselves proudly as they set foot on Tristain's soil. For them, survival had been a great victory.
"Aunt Sugu?" Yui asked urgently.
"It's okay." Suguha reassured her niece. "They're here, just wait." They had to be. They had to be here. If the mission had been successful, then it definitely meant that Kirito and Asuna were alright.
The line of disembarking soldiers, sailors, and Faeries began to trickle down to the handful who were remaining aboard to finish docking the ships and place them on standby readiness. Still there had been no sign of the two they were waiting for.
Suguha held her breath. And then, two more figures came to stand at the gangplank of the last ship. Moving with slow deliberation, helping each other to limp down to the ground. One clad in jet black, and the other in pure white. Suguha's heart fluttered.
"Papa! Mama!" Yui shouted. Suguha let the girl go, watching as she ran with all her might to Kirito and Aunsa. "Mama! Mama!"
The chestnut haired girl at Kirito's side widened her eyes as she heard Yui's voice, head spinning around. "Yui-chan? Yui-chan!"
"Mama!" Yui shouted one last time, tears running down her cheeks as she threw herself into the arms of the only mother she had ever known and was taken up in a deep embrace, both mother and daughter clinging to each other for dear life.
Slowly, Kirito limped forward, her brother definitely looked worse for the wear, at least as bad as some of the Albionian soldiers. Suguha couldn't imagine what he must have gone through just today, much less over the last two weeks. But now it was over. Kirito gently placed his arms around Asuna and Yui, holding them both closely. It was over.
Suguha watched from a distance, smiling. She blinked as a strange heat began to come to her eyes. She was happy, or at least, she thought she was. Her brother had found the person who mattered most to him in this life, and together they embraced their daughter. They looked just like a family, a family that was finally complete.
"Miss Leafa?" It was Princess Henrietta, gently placing a hand to her shoulder. "That is your brother, is it not? You should go to him."
Suguha squirmed a little. "R-right. I'll do that, after . . . after they've had some time." She looked over as Henrietta's hand fell from her shoulder and quickly covered her mouth.
Up on the deck of the ship, one last solitary figure had come to stand in front of the gangplank, and it wasn't just Henrietta who was watching him.
It started slowly and then gathered strength, cheers and claps from the gathered Tristanian nobility, from the disembarking soldiers, and even from the Faeries as word of the youth's identity spread through the crowd. Crown Prince Wales Tudor of Albion, the last son of the fallen King James.
He began his personal descent, limping with the help of a cane. His gate was feeble, but he refused aid from the Faerie woman and boy following at his side.
Henrietta fidgeted nervously and then glanced to her Regent, Cardinal Mazarin, who had come as her escort.
The Cardinal's stern expression broke as he sighed. "Princess, your impropriety and that young man have caused a great deal of trouble."
Henrietta bowed her head low, looking shamefully at the ground. "I . . ."
"But the Church has a saying for times like this." Mazarin cut in. "Relish your impropriety, and worry later."
The Princess looked dumbstruck and then, lips pressed into an uncertain smile. "Thank you." She whispered before turning to run towards the ship and Prince Wales Tudor.
'Thank you for what?' Suguha wondered . . . 'Oh.'
Coming to stand at the bottom of the gangplank, the Prince and the Princess faced each other, and then without more than a word exchanged, fell into an embrace.
"Hey, hurry it up here! You're blocking the way." The Faerie woman behind the Prince grumbled and then yelped as she was jabbed in the side by the boy next to her.
"Wales . . . " Henrietta breathed, resting her head against that of the young Prince.
Wales lifted a hand to Henrietta's lips to silence her. "It seems I've caused you some trouble, Henrietta." The voice of the Prince was clear, cultured, and carried a hint of pained humor as he looked into Henrietta's eyes. "Well, it's only right that I help to correct that matter." Taking Henrietta's hands in his own, the Prince smiled. "I Wales Tudor, Crown Prince of Albion, am as always at your service, Princess Henrietta de Tristain."
He leaned in and whispered something in the Princess's ear that even Suguha's Sylph hearing couldn't catch. The Princess blushed and then threw her arms around Wales' neck, receiving curious looks from those present, but Suguha thought she knew and smiled a little more certainly. There were more people to be happy for tonight.
Hoots and shouts began to spread, arms pointing to the sky. Drawing the attention of the Prince and Princess, and of Kirito, Asuna, and Yui.
Arriving now, after the faster ships, a fleet of twenty large airships could just be made out by the way they blocked the moonlight, a massive ship that dwarfed all of the others taking lead. And rising from its deck were the lights of Faerie wings.
* * *
Opening her eyes, slowly blinking away the sleep. Morgiana was confronted by multiple mental alarm bells in rapid succession.
'Where am I?'
The ceiling above her head was painted a milky white that was just beginning to lighten as the sun slanted through the windows. She could hear birds chirping along with a less distinct BGM that her brain was still trying to make sense out of.
'Why am I in a bed?'
She was indeed laying fully reclined atop a heavily stuffed feather mattress, which was odd, because for the past couple of weeks she'd been consistently crashing on one of the couches in the Kurotaka Guild Hall. She could have snagged an apartment in Arrun, probably would while the snagging was still good, but in the meantime there'd just been too much to do.
Slowly the memories of the day before began to trickle back in, rising from the background static of a very mild hangover.
There had been a lot to do after their victorious return. Prisoners to be handed over, fancy battleships to present to the Crown, hastily arranged victory celebrations to attend, funerals to arrange . . .
Hex . . . And not just him, the others too. The remains, what they'd been able to dig up, had already been cremated and now awaited shipment to Arrun. Sakuya had promised that they would find an appropriate way to honor the fallen.
The Lady of the Sylphs knew how to give a speech at least, and also how to show her respects.
Morgiana hadn't been in much of a celebratory mood the night before, not at first, but she'd put on the face and soldiered through it. And in the end, she'd actually started to believe it herself.
People had died, but they'd pulled off an incredible win. That had to count for something. She liked to think that if she'd been the one holding on to that bomb, she'd have been happy to know that everyone else had kicked ass and gotten out alive. She wouldn't want them moping over her, or freaking out that she'd finally bitten off more than she could chew.
That was how she'd been able to get up in front of a room full of self congratulating Noble assholes who hadn't lifted a finger or risked a hair, raised her glass in toast, and drank down more than a little bit of their high quality, and very expensive booze before pilfering a few bottles extra and finding the first excuse to sneak out and meet up with the rest of the Kurotakas.
There were a hundred parties going on that night and she'd hit them all. Every inn and tavern had been crammed full of Royalists, Tristanian Soldiers, and Faeries, the real heroes of Newcastle. The sailors that had manned the ships, the armsmen and mages who had guarded the walls, and the Dragon and Griffin Knights who had flown at their side.
Morgiana had flitted about all night, taking part in every cheer, drinking game, and quiet moment of remembrance that she could find. She'd bought rounds for all of the Griffin Knights, Eugene and his Salamanders, and her own guild.
It must have become a hell of party, because she really couldn't remember quite when it had ended. Only that, at some point, she'd been leaning against an equally Drunk Eugene as they made their way up a flight of stairs.
Morgiana frowned slightly as another sensation in the here and now started to impinge on her recollection. 'Why am I wearing a man's shirt?' A hand pinched at the baggy red garment and then her frown deepened.
'Why am I not wearing panties?'
The answer came a moment later as her alcohol addled brain finally processes the BGM for what it was.
Eugene's snores could be likened to a very soft spoken chainsaw, broad, bare chest rising and falling slowly as he lay spread out in bed beside her.
'Oh.' She thought. The realization kicking her short circuited memory back into gear. It started to come back to her, she'd been drunk, but not that drunk.
It has just sort of happened. Lowered inhibitions, the pent up frustration and fight instinct looking for a release, and hey, he wasn't bad looking. At least, not in this form.
Morgiana turned over on her side to study Eugene's face and wondered for a moment what he'd really looked like before. Pouting her lips, she played fingers over his chest. The Salamander General's snoring caught for a moment and then went on.
Deep sleeper, lucky.
The idea that he might have been some shrimp IRL amused Morgiana immensely. But, in the end, it really didn't matter. After all, being turned into their avatars hadn't made them any braver or more noble, all of the courage and charisma he displayed was pure Eugene, no matter what he looked like.
Letting her arm fall to rest, Morgiana decided that, in the grand scheme of things, it really wasn't the worst mistake she'd ever made.
Then, with a small mental shrug, she snuggled a little closer and went back to sleep.
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