A/N: And now at last it is over. I've had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope all my readers have had just as much fun as I have! Thanks again to everyone who has been loyally reading and/or reviewing, it always makes my day to read your feedback. This final section is for all of ya'll, so you'd better enjoy it! Or else!

16. Finales

The Queen's Speech

The nobility is strangely silent when Elincia takes her seat before them for the first time since returning from the tower. They offer her no criticism, no accusations, no doubt or anger or sarcasm, and if any single one of them holds any lingering suspicions about the future of her rule, they keep their thoughts to themselves. Their powers over her are gone now, and nothing they can say or do stands up to what she has done. Like it or not, they are in her debt and in the debt of those they had hated and feared: Daein and the laguz. She is the one with the power now, and they are the ones at her mercy.

"I'm glad you've all agreed to meet with me," Elincia begins, nodding to her subjects. "I know these past few days have been eventful for you. Suffering the fate decreed unjustly for you by the goddess must have been harrowing, and I know it was an added shock for you to return to a world so greatly altered during your absence. Not to mention the surprise you must have felt at the unexpected return of my lord uncle, whom we all believed to be dead."

"My apologies for the inconvenience," Renning wryly interjects. "The next time death comes for me, I'll do a better job of staying dead."

"Let us hope that day is long in coming, Uncle," she replies affectionately. "As I was saying, I understand that most of you have many other things you must attend to in this trying time, so I am honored you would find a moment to hear me speak. I will try and be short, but I know that I must fully explain to you how I intend to approach my governance of this land in light of recent events. It is a pressing issue, and I would never dream of taking action without the knowledge of those who are invested in the prosperity of this nation."

"A more benevolent and infinitely wise woman there never was," Bastian declares. "Pray continue! Our awestruck ears are yours."

"Thank you, Bastian," she says, studying her audience with her wide and sincere eyes. "I hope everyone else here is just as eager to be attentive. I begin with a humbling recollection. About a year ago, as you will recall, a nobleman among your numbers attempted to usurp me from my throne. He cited my inexperience and idealism among his primary reasons for his decision, and for these faults of mine he attempted to dissolve the unity of our people and take away my dearest friend and adviser." She nods to Lucia. "But it wasn't only that. When I spoke with Duke Ludveck after he threatened Lucia's life, he said something of me that I am sure each and every one of you were thinking at the time. 'Crimea isn't interested in having a warm hearted, laguz loving idealist on the throne,' I believe were his words."

"They were," Geoffrey nods. "I was there when he issued this insult to her."

She smiles, grateful for his support. "Indeed. I knew Ludveck was telling the truth to me. I know his words are true now for many, even in spite of what has happened. You wish me to be a queen who serves only your wishes and desires. This may be what you want of me, but it is not what Crimea needs. The world is changing for all beorc, laguz, and Branded. The time for hatred and prejudice has passed, and acceptance and reform are called for. And I am the queen you need for this time of alteration, even if I am not the one you want."

She pauses, studying the faces of her listeners. Many are regarding her coolly, but even more appear interested in what she is saying. Geoffrey, Lucia, Bastian, and her uncle, of course, are grinning ear to ear at her boldness.

"I have been accustomed to following the advice you give me," she continues. "You are my people, and I am honor bound to hear your wishes and satisfy them as best I can. I will continue to respect you, but I will no longer to permit you to hold Crimea back when what we need most is to move forward. There are more voices I must turn to now. The common people who our every decision affects. Caineghis, Skrimir, and Ranulf of Gallia, my friends and allies. The Empress of Begnion and Queen Micaiah, young women whose nations were foremost among persecutors until they championed change. King Tibarn and Reyson and all those who serve for the united bird tribes. Kurthnaga of the dragons. Queen Nailah of Hatari. It is my decision to stand united with these people and be inspired by their example, but first and foremost, I choose now to follow my instincts. I know I can be a good leader to you, but you will have to let me try."

Elincia rises to her feet and takes a deep breath. Now for the risky part of her declaration. "I have one more thing to say to you," she says, clasping her hands nervously to her breast. "The rulers of Crimea have always used the nobility as a sounding board for ideas and laws, and also as a minor governing body to assist them with important decisions such as matters of war and country-to-country relations. But never before in history, to my knowledge or my lord uncle's, have they had any say whatsoever in the who the current monarch chooses to give his or her heart to. Keeping this in mind, I would like to issue a request to all of you. But before I do, would you please join me, Geoffrey?"

Geoffrey inclines his head in deference to her. "Your highness," he says with solemnity, rising to stand by her side.

She takes his hand firmly in her own. "Now, I am sure all of you are well aware of how things stand between Geoffrey and I, especially since many of you were instrumental in keeping us separated from the moment our attachment was made known. However, it is my opinion that you have kept us apart for long enough. I am in love with him. He is a good man, one who adores his people with the same strength and dedication as I." She glances at him, the sight of his serious smile making her brave. "I do not see why there should be any objection to a future marriage, and until I hear a reason that is thoughtful and worthy of my consideration, I fully intend to take him as my husband with or without your consent."

"You do?" Geoffrey asks, his jaw dropping. "And when were you planning on telling me this?"

"Right now, obviously," Lucia chuckles, rolling her eyes. "My compliments to the lady for the very romantic proposal."

"Ah, to be unmanned by fairest woman and locked firmly in the bonds of her ever tempestuous whims," Bastian sighs, making eyes at Lucia. "Longing to equal your passionate happiness, my dear friend, I am the very green of envy."

"Never mind that. Is this really your wish?" Geoffrey asks her, forgetting for a moment the amount of eyes glued to them. "If it is, you know I will do my utmost to make you happy and be a good and fair king to your subjects. But I want you to be sure."

"Oh, Geoffrey," she laughs, squeezing his hand. "I was sure years ago. I was sure the moment you pledged to stay by my side even though I had just made a decision that would end the life of your sister. I understand now how much unconditional trust and love that must have taken. And now I'm ready for the life I promised to you then. The one we were born to live, you and I."

"In that case," he whispers, breaking into a grin, "how can I say no?"

"Good. I was hoping you would not cause me to embarrass myself in front of all these people." She turns back to the absolutely flabbergasted gentry. "Well, that about sums up everything I needed to say. A new Crimea is on the verge of being born, and your future king and I will gladly do our part to make this a golden age for you and all the rest of our subjects. We hope that you will do your part as well in the months to come. Any questions?"

The nobles remain silent. Where once a mere girl had stood before them trying to wield influence and tentatively dip her toes into power, they now see a queen. A true, beautiful, and strong queen. There is nothing more they can say to instruct or refute her now. She has found her way through adversity and back, and her hands are the ones resting surely on the reigns; the rest of them are simply along for the ride, to watch her grow as she becomes a ruler for all of Crimea to be proud of.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

A Lingering Spirit

"I never thought I'd come here again of my own volition," Aimee admits as she and Jorge walk through the streets of Nevassa she had once known intimately. "My goodness, does it look different. Micaiah has done wonders here."

"She's not called a Maiden of Miracles for nothing."

"Oh, I am well aware of what she is capable of. I just can't believe this is the same place where everything happened all those years ago. It just looks so... clean."

"Should we pay her a visit, do you think? If anyone could navigate us through this place, it would be her or maybe Sothe. Or we could hunt down Jill and Haar?"

"What did I say about using Jill's name in my presence?"

"Aimee, how many times do I have to remind you that I was just kidding with all of the Jill stuff?" Jorge sighs, massaging his forehead. "Anyways, what do you think? Is a trip to Daein Keep called for?"

"I'm pretty sure I know where the place where he kept my mother is. It's not very far."

"But it might still be Prideri's land, if he's still alive. Are you sure you want to go waltzing all over it?"

"Don't be foolish. It was his summer cottage. It's autumn right now. He won't be there."

"Ah, I see. Heavens help the man who lives in the wrong house during the wrong season."

"One must keep from making social slips where they can." She tugs on his hand. "Let's get a move on, my sweet. It may be prettier, but I'll never really trust this city. It reminds me too much of smelly dogs and going hungry."

"A truly inspired combination."

"And I hadn't even gotten around to mentioning the rotting meat!"

The two escape the center of Nevassa and begin to march towards the hilly countryside on the outskirts, plenty of chatter flying between them. Jorge had worried that this journey would make Aimee more upset than anything, but she's managed fairly well. "I just want to put this to rest," she'd said at start of their mission, and though he knew her to be sincere, he'd wondered if her resolve would fade once they broke off from the caravan and journeyed into Daein on their own. But thankfully she is still her cheerful self, her spirits thriving even in spite of the task ahead of them.

"This is actually a nice area," Aimee admits grudgingly as they pass through a field littered with wildflowers. "I hope it was a comfort to my mother before she died. She loved beautiful things, but unlike Prideri she had no illusions of holding onto them forever. 'Never cling to the things of this earth as if they belong to you, Aimee,' she told me. 'Everything made from the earth belongs to it, and will return to it one day'. But of course there is no harm in treasuring things while they last, and she did so love looking at the flowers."

"Whatever her final moments were like, I am sure she was glad that they didn't occur on the streets of a foreign city."

"Oh, indeed. But sometimes I wonder if she wished I was there with her. It would have to be so sad to die alone."

"If you had been there, you would have risked falling ill and dying yourself. She wouldn't have wanted that, as your mother."

"I understand that. But I worry that she was afraid before she passed, and that I could have somehow made it better. To suffer is one thing, but to suffer alone with no one to reach out to help or hold you when it grows too hard to bear..." Aimee shivers. "I can only hope that Ashera was merciful and took her soul before she realized what was happening."

In the distance they see two red brick cottages surrounded by daffodils and tall oak trees with vibrant red, orange, and gold leaves. "Is this the place?" Jorge asks, surprised by how cozy a home owned by such a madman could be. "It's wonderful."

"This should be it. That other house must belong to the neighbors that found my mother."

They approach the place reverently, studying every inch. Aimee scans the ground for a sign of raised earth or a marker of any kind, but she sees nothing. Just the flowers blowing gently in the wind, enjoying life before winter comes and takes them away for another season.

"Should we go inside?" she asks, gesturing to one of the cottages. "This one is definitely his. No one else would have that horrid statuette of a wyvern in such an otherwise lovely garden."

"Won't it be locked?"

"Don't play dumb. I know Sothe taught you how to lockpick during the first war."

"Sure, but I'll need a hairpin."

"Then you're traveling with the right woman, dearie." She pulls one out of her pocket. "With hair as long and beautiful as mine, you're never without one. I'm surprised you don't have one yourself, Mr. Ponytail."

"Very funny." He snatches it from her hand and begins toying with the lock on the cottage's front door. "You'd better be right about this being a summer home. I could go to jail for this, you know."

"I thought I warned you that my wager would involve a dangerous favor? And need I remind you that you were the one who insisted we do this?"

"Hey. Just trying to be an acceptable champion for you, my lady. Can't have Kieran coming in and trying to take my place, right?" He twists the handle on the door, and it comes open. "Aha! Good to know Sothe is good for something else besides dressing suggestively. Let's check it out."

The interior of the cottage is draped entirely in white sheets, but from what Jorge can tell, it is scantly furnished. From Aimee's description of Prideri, he'd been expecting nude statues and rich paintings on every surface, but the walls are completely bare and the covered up objects seem to be merely chairs, a sofa, and perhaps a desk.

"I thought this might be the case," Aimee muses, pulling the sheets away one by one. "He was always very superstitious, and I did wonder if my mother's death might convince him not to come here so frequently. He would worry about being haunted by her spirit, especially if he believed she would know what he had done to me. The house would have also lost its attraction to him since all of his old things would have been burned in case they carried traces of the plague." She uncovers a sofa with a headache inducing floral pattern embroidered into the cushions. "Ah, yes. I remember this. One of his lesser used pieces from a guest room or something. Well, I suppose this means he didn't die. If he had, this place would have sold and everything in it would be auctioned."

"I guess that means all your mother's things are gone now."

"Things?" Aimee laughs bitterly. "We didn't have things. We sold everything we ever owned before coming to Daein, and the only items we ever purchased after that were food."

"But you were sending her money, weren't you?"

"Yes. And if Prideri permitted the money to reach her, she would have saved it up for our future after we left Daein again. Whatever money there was went to the fire, too." Aimee swallows back a sob of disappointment. "There's nothing left of her here any more. And if they buried her body by this house, they didn't even mark the spot. She's...gone. There's no trace of her left anywhere."

Jorge pulls her into an embrace as she sniffles, desperately trying to keep her emotions at bay. "Oh Aimee, you know that isn't true," he murmurs comfortingly. "Your mother may have told you that everything returns to the earth where it belongs, but that is and never will be true of love. You carry her in your heart, and she lives on in you. Please don't be so sad. You haven't lost her at all."

"But I... I so wanted to find her to say goodbye..."

"I know, Aimee. I know. And I swear on everything I have that we will keep on looking and turn the world upside down to your heart's content. But I don't think you'll ever be happy with yourself even if you do find where she's buried unless you come to terms with the fact that it wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. Whether you were there or not, the plague would have found her." He takes a deep breath, praying that she won't be angry at him for speaking so freely. "You must have so many wonderful memories of her, but I don't think you'll love them as much if they're always tainted by guilt and regret for not being with her when she died."

Aimee pulls away slowly, looking Jorge directly in the eyes. She doesn't look angry, he's surprised to note, but rather bewildered. "Do you know who you remind me of?" she asks, arching an eyebrow.

"Who?"

"Her. The last thing she ever said... before I left, I told her that I was so sorry that it was necessary for me to go away from her. I thought she might say that she was sorry, too, but that wasn't the way she did things. She just frowned at me and said, 'Aimee, you'll never get anywhere in life by being sorry for everything. Go on and have your adventure, and what will happen will happen. Don't worry about the way things ought to go or regret life because it never is what you planned it to be. Just live, Aimee. Live.'" A smile abruptly breaks on her face. "I always thought she was wrong. It was my life. I thought I should be able to control it."

"I noticed. You always had a way of saying you were going to 'make' things happen. Including Ike falling in love with you." Jorge can't help but laugh a little at that. "You can't tell me you still believe in it after what happened."

"I don't know. It's scary to live in a world where a goddess can turn people into stone, your mother can fall ill and die without you knowing, and you can fall in love with a scrawny blonde man with a ponytail instead of an entirely more suitable and fit war hero without having any say in it."

"Scrawny? Want to say that again?"

"You're scrawny. And your nose is kind of big." She throws her head back and giggles. "But maybe you and Mother are right. What will happen will happen. Maybe I should just go on my little adventure with no expectations and let myself be surprised every once in awhile. It's not such a bad thing, sometimes."

Jorge narrows his eyes. "As nice as that is to hear, are all the insults necessary?"

"It's your punishment for being right all the time. It's quite annoying, you know." Her smile slips a little and she falls to her knees to rest her palm against the wood floor. "But I suppose it's all right this time. This was the last place she was last alive, after all. It's as good a place as any to say a prayer for her."

Jorge remains quiet as she silently offers her words and thoughts up to her mother, at last acknowledging the lingering spirit she has been carrying with her all this time without knowing it. When she comes to her feet again, he wordlessly offers her his arm and begins to pull the sheets back over the barren house to set it back to its silent rest and vigil.

When he has finished, Aimee gestures to the door. "Our adventures await us, dearie," she says, a voice slightly wet with emotion, but surprisingly strong and buoyant considering. "Are you ready to turn the world upside down with me?"

"Always," he says with a grin, leading her back out into the sunlight and on towards the uncertain and beautiful future awaiting them on the horizon.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Here Begins a New Life

Soren had never been particuarly fond of sleeping before, but having Ike as a more integral part of his life has given him new reasons to appreciate the art of dozing off in a euphoric stupor, still high off the feeling of their bodies united together and blissfully exhausted by the draining act of love. He is glad of the opportunity to dream peacefully away at Ike's side, waking every so often study his sleeping partner and lock the image away in his mind before falling back to sleep, all in hopes of having him there in his thoughts at every moment, the rightful star of his every dream. He can hardly call the hours he spends in bed a waste of time anymore; in fact, he's beginning to wonder if a better outlet for his time and energies exists. As satisfying as his work for the company is, this is something just as challenging and rewarding in this. Perhaps sleeping in a little bit isn't the crime he had once thought it to be.

Yawning drowsily, Soren rolls onto his side and extends an arm forward to reach out to Ike and pull him closer for some much needed warmth, but instead of connecting with the tender contours of his beloved's flesh, his hand finds a fistful of rumpled sheets in the place where Ike should be. He cracks upon an eye. To his surprise, he finds himself alone in their bed, though the area beside him is still warm, as if it had only just been abandoned.

What's he doing up, Soren wonders to himself, stretching sleepily and untangling his limbs from his cocoon of blankets. Even I would hesitate to get up so early, especially when it's so nice and cozy right here...

With a sigh, he pulls himself out of bed and slips into a set of fresh robes, the only pair left unpacked. Their meager bags are tucked to the side of the room, waiting eagerly for the journey they would be embarking on this afternoon. It would probably be the last time their belongings ever touched this place, and the thought of it is bittersweet for Soren. As glad as he is to be going, the fort would always hold memories for him. This is where he reunited with Ike after his years of wandering, and where he spent many satisfying years honing his skills and watching Ike grow from a fledgling fighter to the man he is today. It would be strange to say goodbye to it forever, without any prospect of ever coming back.

After making the bed and neatening up Ike's things, which the commander had left strewn across the floor the night before in typical Ike fashion, Soren leaves the room and heads downstairs. It doesn't take him long to figure out where Ike has gone; all he has to do is follow the smell of slightly burnt coffee coming from the kitchen. Sure enough, a half undressed Ike is slumped over on the table, taking deep gulps of his drink in a valiant attempt to wake himself up. The cupboards have been thrown open and the ingredients within rearranged, but there's no indication that Ike has taken anything out to eat.

"Ahh Soren," he groans drowsily, propping his drooping head up with his fist. "Do you wanna know something?"

"That there's a good reason why you don't usually get up this early?"

"That too. But what I was going to say is that I absolutely have no idea how to cook."

"And this is supposed to be news?" Soren begins pulling ingredients from the cupboards for breakfast. "You've never made a meal in your life. Oscar and Mist have always taken care of it. If you wanted to eat, why didn't you wait until they got up?"

"Because we're leaving."

"Not until this afternoon, right?"

"Actually..." Ike sighs and chugs down the rest of his coffee. "No, we're leaving after breakfast. Before anyone else can wake up and realize what we're doing."

"Hmm? But you told them all we were leaving a long time ago. Why do we have to hide this from them?"

"I have a hard time with goodbyes, all right? I don't want to make this difficult for them or for us. It should be a clean break. The last memories we have of them should be happy ones, and I don't want to ruin it with tears and requests to write every day. This is a big day for us, and we should head into it not weighed down by anything. Unless you have any objections?"

"What about Mist? She'll hunt us down and kill us if we leave her without word."

"I anticipated that. She knows all about this plan of mine, and we said our goodbyes last night."

"Ah." Soren lays a few strips of bacon onto a skillet and starts a small fire underneath the pan. "Well, I have no further complaint. It wasn't going to be me they would say their goodbyes to, anyways."

Ike rolls his eyes. "Huh. You know, every single one of them has complained to me for taking you away. They aren't sure what they're going to do without your genius mind managing things around here."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Mm." Soren takes a moment to mind the bacon, indifferently inhaling the scent as it sizzles away in the pan, but Ike, meat devotee that he is, stumbles to his feet to stand closer to his favorite smell as his food prepares.

"I really need to learn how to make this for myself in case of an emergency. But until then..." He wraps his arms around Soren's waist and buries his face in his dark hair. "Thank you. I don't know what I would do without you."

"So you're in it for the food?" Soren sniffs drily. "I see."

"Hey. Don't discredit my thousands of other reasons." He brushes his lips against Soren's neck. "As much as I like bacon, I would say you taste much, much better."

"Charming."

"Mmmm."

"For someone who claims to be so hungry, you're making it very difficult for the cook to concentrate."

"Sorry." He pulls his mouth away, though he leaves his arms around Soren's waist. "Good thing it's usually Oscar and Mist in charge of these things."

"When we're on the road, it's going to be me. Unless you miraculously pick up the skill somewhere along the line."

"I'll have to get used to it, then. But I can't imagine finding the sight of you paired with bacon not attractive."

"A problem that could be easily solved. It'll be carrots and oatmeal for you from now on."

Ike pulls a scowl. "I thought you wanted me to survive this journey, Soren."

"If the herons can survive without bacon, I'm sure you can."

"Oh, I would live, but I think life might lose its meaning for awhile. I'd rather we didn't chance it."

"I suppose you'll just have to learn how to let me cook in peace, in that case."

When the bacon is finished cooking, the two sit down and quickly polish off the meal. They don't have much time left now, and they both know it. In a half-hour, Rhys will be up for morning prayers, and Oscar and Titania will shortly follow. If their getaway is to be clean and painless, they have to fetch their bags and go as soon as possible. The time has finally come.

"How do you feel?" Ike asks Soren as they gather up their things. "Nervous?"

"Not a chance. As long as I'm with you, everything is fine."

"Honestly, I feel the same way. It's a bit unexpected. I thought would be more upset than this. This is my father's place, after all, and his grave is here... but I have my memories, and I'll be taking all of them with me wherever I go. If I left you behind, on the other hand..." He shudders to himself. "I'd have my thoughts of you, but I wouldn't have your voice to guide me or your body beside me every night. I don't know what I would do without you, Soren. I really don't."

"Ike..."

"Soren." He takes his hand, squeezing it. "I'm not scared at all about this. I'm ready. This is the life I was looking for all this time. And I'm so fortunate to be spending it with you."

"I... thank you. You don't know... how much that means to me."

"You might as well get used to hearing it. I love you, you know. I always will."

Ike pulls Soren into his arms, and the mage closes his eyes and inhales the warm and comforting scent of his body. A part of him still wonders why this is happening to him and not someone else. Years ago, his heart still jaded and his body still frozen by the ice his past had forced upon him, he would have never imagined himself here, on the verge of starting a new life with man he loves and who also, inexplicably, loves him. How can he possibly ever have ended up in this happy place, set free of his life as an angry, bitter Branded and loved despite being born into a loveless breed? If he didn't feel Ike's hands firmly on his waist and his lips gently urging his open, a feeling so strong it can't possibly be a dream, he may not have believed it was real. Only a few months ago he would have laughed at such ideas, rolling his eyes and deeming them impossible.

But that's what this journey has been all about, he realizes to himself as he sinks into Ike, giving in once again to a force greater than his faltering sense of unworthiness. The not knowing, the fear and the doubt were his blind trek through shadows, the perilous search for certainty, identity, and love. And the discovery? The discovery is the moment of clarity, the moment of decision, the moment of stepping into a home and into the arms of the one you love and feeling worthy of them. The not knowing had been the first journey, the one that was ending in this moment. What came next was a new adventure, a new quest, a new opportunity to find out more about himself and fall more thoroughly in love with the man who had given him everything he had dared hope to for. And he wasn't afraid for the same reasons Ike wasn't afraid.

He was ready.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

A/N: Thanks for reading, all!