Work Text:
Hoshidan Plains
“Big brother was coming back, right? He had to! We used to play together, have teatime together, and all sorts of fun stuff back in the castle!” Elise had thought to herself during the ride on her horse to the Hoshidan plains. It was a simple diplomatic meeting. A meeting that would just involve Corrin coming back home. Ryoma would understand. Hinoka would understand. Takumi would understand. Sakura would understand.
Corrin was her big brother.
Why would she have to say goodbye?
Goodbye… forever?
Right…?
But big brother said goodbye.
No ifs, buts, or anything of the sort.
Elise would have to wave goodbye.
Forever.
Tiny water droplets fell from the sweet princess’ sparkling eyes as she was forced to watch the scene in front of her. Each one dripping onto the saddle of her horse, Lily. How could Corrin, her best friend, her big brother, change so suddenly over the course of a few days? It wasn’t like for him to have issues like this.
And yet, the battle was starting. The plains were beginning to taint with the color red, as sword clashed with lance and axe clashed with dagger. Burns from fire tomes, piercings from shurikens, and pure death were going on around her. Even with her training, the princess’ body could only shudder from even watching the blood splatter onto her horse.
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“Xander!” Elise exclaimed watching the crown prince of Nohr get sniped by a lightning bolt. That was no ordinary lightning bolt, it was one belonging to Ryoma, the heir to the Shogunate.
The paladin kicked his horse into full gear as much as it could, going towards an area that wouldn’t be devastating. Xander couldn’t die here. Nobody could.
“Ngh…” Xander had started to clutch the wounds that tainted his body. Elise could barely watch.
“Big brother, I’ll help!” The little sister got her horse into full speed, around to where Xander was. While she couldn’t stop her feelings of melancholy, seeing Xander okay had alleviated her.
“Thank you, Elise-” Before Xander could even finish…
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A familiar face approached Elise, ready to strike. And the youngest princess of Nohr wasn’t having any of it.
“Why are you doing this, Corrin? I don't want to fight you! Why don't you stop all this and come home with us?” Was the first thing to come out of the troubadour's mouth. It was strained from all the crying and sobbing from the events prior, but she had to say what was on her mind. Why? WHY? WHY.
WHY DID HER BROTHER…
“I'm so sorry, Elise. The last thing I want to do is fight you. I know it's hard to understand, but this is the only way!” Was the excuse th no at Corrin had given her in reply. A pretty weak one at that, and the staff wielder knew it.
HOW COULD HER BROTHER…
“Grr! Stop being so stubborn!” Elise screamed before readying herself for Corrin’s attack. One slice of the sword and it would be over. Not even a last ditch effort.
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They say that the hardest of times come when you are ready to bloom.
And then your petals open up and you grow once more.
But for those who aren’t ready to bloom.
For those whose petals are strained.
Pushed
Tightened
They are the ones who truly suffer.
The premature bloomers.
Those who must grow
before they were supposed to.
This is the tragic tale
of Elise of Nohr.