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OMG... MY BELOVED, DEAR FRIEND WROTE THIS ONE PIECE FANFICTION FOR MEEEEEEEEEEE AND IT IS... D I V I N E

I quickly dash across the meadow. Chest heaving at the effort in maintaining both stealth and speed. I hid in the troughs of the hills I have run many times before. I spot keenly the patrols as they methodically march by. I have never been caught and I will never be caught, for my strength of will is fueled by what is to come. Slowly but surely, as I have many times before, I reach my destination. I reach out in pitch black night and feel for that small indentation next to the buttruss of the castle wall. It is my secret alone given to me by who loves me most.

The stone pushes inward and a well-oiled, near-silent mechanism whirrs behind the wall. The stone door slides smoothly out of my way, revealing a sharply winding staircase. At the base there is a freshly lit torch that he has left for me; My love. As I catch my breath I find myself staring into the flames. Two tendrils of flame of equal ferocity licked and sputtered and encircled one-another, reaching high above the torch. Each seemingly trying to douse one another yet each becoming greater for the effort.

"Life, death, and love come from the most innocuous places", Karin mused. She gathered her thoughts and quietly strode inside, her heart thumping in anticipation. She reached out and carefully grasped the torch, gathered the skirt of her dress so as not to trip, and made her way upstairs. The wall she could hear softly sliding back into place, hiding her beautiful disgrace. The climb, as it always was, was time to reflect on her thoughts. To steel herself against her betrayal, as it was betrayal, but to also steel herself for allowing herself to love another, as it was certainly love unlike anything she has ever felt, unless in his embrace.




Karin was a Queen of the Lions. Matriarch of the House of Faerghus. Her Will was uncontested and her rule was law. She sat amongst the most powerful this world has had to offer and has never flinched or compromised. Each man they have sent to cow her or curry her favour had been humbled before her brutality, her cunning. Each one had succumbed to her beauty and force of will. Dmitri had no choice but to view her as an equal. Outside of battle her intellect and economical shrewdness has come so close to joining the Three Houses of Fódlan. The Adrestian, Leicester, and the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. She has come so close to accomplishing in years what had taken men hundreds of years to attempt, and fail at. The price, however, was steep.

Dmitri. Her beloved Dmitri. He was the epitome of vengeance. His every thought, every fiber of his being focused on his revenge towards his Sister, Edelgard. I fear he will be consumed in his madness. He can trust no-one. He says he can trust me as I am amonsgt those he holds most dear in this world. Even then his words seem hollow and practiced. Every day he slips more and more into his thoughts. Into the "what-could-have-been". I do not wish the spectres of his failures to consume him, but alas I cannot peel the thoughts back which have been set to stone. My beloved Dmitri runs towards his doom at a pace I cannot stand to bear witness to. He is lost to me, and to his people. Each day I see him slip closer and closer to absolute madness, each day not seeing the man I loved. The man I thought most dear to this world was turning into something hardly recognizable. A madman. He has left me to finish what he started, and I will never fail him, no matter how much of him is left in his eyes. No matter the cost. Even if it means splitting myself in two.

Karin had certainly had a troublesome journey crossing the Galatean border to Leceister. Her husband's armies, one hundred fifty thousand strong, were bivouced on the north side of the Galdean mountain range bordering Daphnel. Thousands more each day were brought in from the Aldrean Sea along with food, arms, and armaments. Claude's rage did not make him a stupid man. Far from it, in fact. It honed his abilities into a razor's sharpness, a singular purpose. He was a man whose like would only be seen once every thousand years. And he was bringing every fiber of his being to bear down on Daphnel. From there he would sweep up to Ailell and secure his supply lines using the Aldrean Sea. Leicester was known for Mercantile ships, not Navy. With the resupply ports at Ailell and total victory by sea, Dmitri's forces would be impossible to dislodge.

I finish ascending the staircase. A dark, heavy, mahogony door separates me from my prey. I can smell the incense I love. I can hear the music that makes me ache with passion. I push the door open with my free hand and what greets me would make any other woman faint with desire. A room that could fit a house as big as a Baron's manse in Faerghus. Yellow tapestries depicting the heroics of the Leicester bloodline, gold trimming on every conceivable surface. Fruits, flowers and food adorned every square inch of the dining table. My eyes continued to scan the room. The bookshelves that had the works of poetry, of art, and science from geniuses that the world will never know again. The statues in the other corner possessing weapons and armor that a master craftsman would weep to see. At last, my gaze falls upon the figure laying next to a roaring fireplace, staring at me. Claude. My world.

The moment I spot him we lock eyes. Even unannounced he knew I would come to him. He always knew. Like a hunter anticipates a deer's movement I am unarmed by his gaze. How is it that despite being able to weather the most terrible rage from the depths of my husband's psyche I am still left helpless by this man's emerald eyes. He sees me for who I am. He penetrates the facade I have desperately held against so many, for what seems like countless years. It strips me of my station in life. It strips me of the power I have fought relentlessly to force upon others. It is a stare that forces me to see that I am but a woman starved of what makes me joyous. What makes us all relish in being alive. The elemental force of what it is to be human, to be alive, imprinted upon me in nothing but his gaze!

After what seems like an eternity falling into his eyes, he breaks contact and looks deeply into the fire at his side. "I hope my guards have not given you any trouble, Karin", he remarks solemenly. He swirls his goblet of wine casually as he speaks. Karin bristles at the remark. "We both know your guards cannot hope to repel any citizen of Faerghus, Claude. To insinuate otherwise is laughable", she replies coldly. Claude smiles at her rebuke. He does not take offense. He knows she is well and truly capable of getting what she wants. He knows that she is beholden to her people and that they come first. He knows why she is meeting him yet he needs to make her see what he feels. He is willing to do everything and more for her and for their kingdoms, but he needs to make her see!

"You have come a long way to meet me here, Karin. The Galatean mountains are particularly harsh this time of year. You must be famished!" He smiled softly, rising out of the chair and gestured towards the table. "Come inside where it is warm and there is food. It is quite a bit, to say the least, but as this is our last...meeting" he pauses and his smile turns a touch playful, letting the weight of their past experiences linger in the air, "I decided that I would have made one of everything you have eaten in this castle." I nod, curious if he indeed did remember what she liked. Coming in from the threshold I turn and close the door until a soft *click* is heard. The Game, where so much was at stake, had started.

I walk slowly and purposefully over to the table, acutely aware that Claude's eyes never leave my body. I steal glances over to him. Short enough in duration to appear casual but long enough to show that I have control, not him. I am a Queen, and even if I dearly love this man standing before me, I have a duty to more than myself. Claude took in the glances knowingly, and his smile widened by the thinnest fraction.

Claude quickly and suddenly walks towards me in pursuit from his fireplace across the room. Alarmed, I turn around quickly and am frozen in place, completly off guard. My heart racing from the sudden spike in adrenaline, I panic. "Too soon!", I think to myself. I close my eyes to mentally prepare myself as fast as possible for what is sure to come.

"Allow me, Karin." he says from behind me, and I hear the distinct sound of a chair sliding along stone. I open my eyes and quickly turn around to see him hold a chair out for me to sit upon. I look up to his face to see him on the verge of laughter. "How easily this man disturbs my actions!", I think to myself, flustered, "How effortlessly he swings between playful and serious." He is so unlike her husband, yet she is fascinated by this man.

Blushing hard from embarrasment at such a simple action unarming me, I take the seat, and regain my focus by looking around the table. Indeed Claude had a great memory. From all the time they spent as teenagers in this castle, they had feasted well. Pheasant Roast with Albinean Berry Reduction, a particular favorite of Claude's, vegetable stir-fry, fruit and herring tarts. A particularly spicy Fish Dango, judging by its deep shade of red. The 12 meter-long table was overstuffed yet my eyes pause on a single simple dish. A dish that reminds me why I came, and it pushes the thoughts of the misstep moments before out of my mind.

Claude has seated himself across from me at the midpoint of the table. He notices my stare, locked on the dish and says almost off-handedly, "Ah. I see your tastes have changed a bit. Why, that's Daphnel Stew." His smile disappears."I know what it is, Claude", I say in a harsh whisper. He continues as if not having heard me, "It is made with onions and capon. The intent of this dish is to pick only the freshest and finest ingredients. In order to do that it must be sourced locally and we both know that Daphnel has some of the best farms and livestock on both sides of our border." He reaches over to the stew, so simple compared to the rest, and ladles some into my bowl. I stare down at it, sick to my stomach and no longer hungry, knowing what words are coming next. "You see," he continues, "this stew has a rich tradition that goes back far, far before our time. It has survived all this time and is a staple product to Daphnel's people. Houses, villages, even this castle we are currently dining in was built by Daphnel's people, surviving off of the land." He gestures his hand towards me, beckoning for me to pick up my spoon, "Eat up, Karin! This will be the last time its like is tasted in Fódlan if your husband has his way!"

My duty takes over at the mention of Dmitri. This is the conversation she has played over and over in her mind during her journey today. "Just give him what he wants, Claude. Your people don't have to suffer! He doesn't even want anything to do with Leicester. He only wants the power to bring Edelgard to justice. If you give him the stone you found, he turns away from you. He does not want anybody to die in this war!" Tears form in my eyes, this is my only chance to plead against this insanity. "He knows that Adrestians are a stubborn people and will fight to the end for his sister. If you give him The Stone he can cut out Edelgard's seat of power in an instant. Dmitri will sweep in and install a government to prevent a power vaccuum destabalizing the nation. There will be no unrest, no riots, no war." She points at him, "You have the power to do that, Claude. You have the power to save Daphnel and your people. You can avoid the war coming to you. We both know my husband will not deviate from his path. While I am an equal to him, I do not have the military might that he possesses. And he has long stopped listening to me about where to apply that force. When his sister betrayed him, she sealed her fate, his, and mine." I start to cry at all the memories spring forth of decisions that were never mine that built my fate all these years.

"My husband is an arrow that was let loose on that day, Claude. Your only choice is to get hit by it or step out of the way," I sob into my stew, tears mixing with the broth. "Please get out of the way", I pleade weakly. "I can't lose another one." I turn my head to avoid him seeing me so distraught. He is silent. After several minutes I look up and he is looking at me. His smile long gone and his hands are steepled with his fingers resting on his bottom lip. His brow furrowed in thought. I wait for him to say something, anything. Several more minutes pass in silence and Claude pushes his chair back as he stands up. He turns and walks away from the table towards the fireplace. He reaches out above the fire to the mantle and with both hands gingerly picks up a gold box. He nods towards one of the two chairs, side by side, in front of the fire. As I come closer I get a better look at what he is placing upon the end table between the chairs. It was indeed made of partially of gold, but that was the least precious thing by many Baron's fortunes. It was a jewelry box that is a handspan wide and long and four fingers tall. On each of the four sides were red gemstones that seemingly hummed with their own life. When she stared at them she felt happiness and warmth. She envisioned her happiest times with those that she loved. She saw her successes and her desires come to fruition. The top gemstone was a square opal, clearly magical as well, covering about half of the box lid in the center.

"Do you know what this is?" Claude asked. I swallowed slowly and nodded. "No, Karin. I need you to say it." he prodded. I forced my gaze upwards from the artifact to look at him, licked my dry lips and replied, "The Stone of Rausten." Claude nodded, satisfied that I am keeping up. He continued, "The stone of Rausten contains the soul of the Demon King, Fomortiis. This box is enchanted to counteract the evil that permeates through all living things if the stone were to be removed. Whatever the evil touches, it will feast upon its mind until there is nothing left but hatred and fear. The legend says that the wielder of this stone makes a bargain with the Demon inside, and is then allowed to use its power. That cannot be further from the truth. It will never give power. It will only use those it touches to fulfill its own evil ends. And nobody can claim to know truly what the Demon King wants other than total destruction."

"Now, there is not a single person in Fódlan who does not know and respect Dmitri. There is also not a single person, save his sister, that wants to fight him. I will fight him if I must as I will not shy away from my duty, as you will not shy from yours, but I can say with certainty this coming battle I will not survive." I start to tear up thinking about losing my Claude. He begins to tear up as well. "I say all of this because I need you to know that this stone will snuff out what little humanity remains in your husband. No matter how strong-willed he is, the Demon King will take hold eventually. He will not be able to rid himself of the stone and it will consume him. You think he is noble because he wants to spare as many lives as he can. Know that the Demon King knows only destruction, and you are only buying the world days, months, or maybe years, until Dmitri scythes through us all. Either way, I am dead, it's only a matter of time until he comes across my borders." His hand reaches out and cups my chin. He pulls my gaze from the box and stares at me in a sadness I have not seen before nor ever will again. He lightly carresses my cheek. "You have the weight of nations on your shoulder. I give this Stone to you freely, if you take it. I will not stop you and I will have my guards personally escort you to outside of your encampment across the mountains. I do not envy you in this decision. Fate has not been kind to either of us. It seems no matter what we do today, we lose eachother." He sighs heavily and drops his hand from my face.

He reclines deeply into the chair and stares blankly at the fire. I lean back in mine and do the same. I look deeply into the flames and see yet again two tendrils entwined in one-another. Both fierce, both fighting to survive. Unable to blink back the tears she sobs, tears falling onto her chest. She closes her eyes and wish that something could be done. How could fate put her on such a path? HOw is it no matter what she chooses, no matter who she protects, or loves, or fights for, it won't matter. They cannot both coexist. Duty, or passion? Duty. Passion.

After what could have been hours, they remained in their chairs. Claude awaiting his fate, as decided upon by the one he loves, and Karin, deciding on which way her world ends.

Without word, she stands up. Claude still unmoving. Karin wipes her eyes and smooths the skirt of her dress. She has made her choice. I stand in front of the end-table between their chairs. I gingerly reach out, with both hands, and scoop up the Jeweled Box. As I do so, a hand reaches out and tenderly encircles my wrist. I look up at Claude and see a man whose mask is broken. I can see into his heart and see nothing but love for me there. I see the warmest smile that reaches all the way to his eyes. Is he trying to comfort me? Is he trying to say he has made peace with himself in the hours of silent company we had just spent together?

"I realize that you have made your decision, Karin, my beloved. And I realize there was no way to win. I know you want me to live another day, even if after this we cannot see eachother again, and so you opt for the greater evil to come. If I can ask but a single favor. Please be with me one more time. Then I can face my fate head-on with no regrets." He gets up to stand beside me, hand still on my wrist. He places one hand gently on the top of the box to push it down towards the desk again. My hands tremble.