Chapter 34:
Revelation
(Gwen's POV, Day After Bombardment)
The message came as the first rays of the sun began to peak over the horizon. She was in the middle of breakfast, eating a simple meal of cured meat and some bread. Something to keep the energy up, but more importantly, it was quick. She wanted to make the rounds in the camp. Come up with a plan of assault.
How grateful she was when she read the letter first thing as she barely had time to digest her food. It made the rest of the morning go by incredibly smoothly.
"Amberhold has surrendered," Gwen muttered with an amused smirk, "This is accurate?"
"It is, Your Highness," the young man in leather armor and a satchel over his shoulder responded, "One of their runners delivered it this morning. Whatever you did yesterday seemed to have spooked them."
"Honestly, I don't blame them," Gwen remembered what Vincent and the others did yesterday, "What of the Academy? Any word?"
"None," they shook their head, looking a little despondent, "It seems that they've yet to make a move since putting up the barrier."
"And the Fengard?" Gwen stood from her chair and motioned for the messenger to follow her, "Has anyone tried to leave through the gate to the North?"
She exited the command tent to the sound of her soldier's mingling. Squires and Knights prepared themselves for the day, but it seemed like the news had already spread. Spirits were high, but she hoped they remembered to stay focused.
"None," the messenger responded, doing his best to keep up with her brisk walk, "The Fengard have reported that the forest, and the North Gate, is completely quiet."
"Hmm," Gwen thought for a moment, stopping to help one of the Knights with lifting a crate, "Tell them to stay vigilant. Amberhold may have surrendered, but that doesn't mean we've won, yet."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," the Knight she helped nodded in appreciation as she continued to walk on.
"Of course, Your Highness," the messenger took off and began quickly moving through the camp.
Gwen took a moment to look around. She had so many people who followed her command. Many who believed in her, and many like the Knight she had just helped, who already addressed her as "Majesty". A title usually reserved for the Emperor.
She didn't reprimand them, for it was what they needed to believe in. That they would win. That there was no doubt in their mind that what they were doing was the right choice. They all pledged their lives to her, and she would not disappoint them. However, her attention went to only one as she began to move through the camp once more.
"...Vincent?" Gwen called as she approached his tent, "Are you awake?"
"Y-Yes, one second!" his voice called from inside, sounding a little startled.
She smiled, musing to herself that he must have just been getting dressed. She heard him shuffling inside before the tent flap opened to reveal him still half in his pajamas. He had on a long nightshift made of silk and looked to have just put on his pants.
"Gwen..." Vincent gave an awkward smile, motioning for her to enter, "I apologize, I seem to have grown lax. I normally wouldn't be so-"
He motioned vaguely to himself, a light blush to his face.
"It's alright, Vincent," Gwen raised a hand to calm him, "I was the one who came unannounced."
"Nonsense," Vincent shook his head, "You have every right to appear whenever you wish."
"That may be true, but..." Gwen looked him up and down, noticing that he hadn't even had time to brush his hair yet, "I could give you a few more moments, if you wish."
He looked bashful as he adjusted himself a bit.
"I'm not usually this...disorganized," Vincent sighed, looking at her with cautious eyes, "If you do not mind...I do feel a bit embarrassed for showing such a side of myself to you."
"Not at all, Vincent," she smiled warmly, a little bit of playfulness in her voice, "Nothing to be embarrassed about. I don't mind, but...I'll wait outside. Let me know when you're ready."
"Of course, Your High..." Vincent cut his words off, looking a little disconcerted before composing himself, "Thank you, Gwen."
"Cute..." Gwen thought to herself as she nodded towards him. He struggled to not use her title sometimes, but he was making an effort. There was a time where he would absolutely refuse, and so it made her incredibly happy to see that he wanted to do it. So, as she waited, she hummed happily to herself. He was making so much progress.
She didn't know how long she waited, but she didn't mind. She took in the nature around her and basked in the camp coming to life. Those who made their way past gave their respects, but moved on to carry out their tasks. Soon, he finally called her back in.
"Sorry for the wait," Vincent apologized, but she dismissed it with a wave of her hand, "So, what brings you here this early? I don't believe I'm to report for another hour or so?"
Gwen sat in a chair he had prepared for her before he sat in a chair opposite of her. He had his hair done up nice and neatly in the style he preferred. She thought it was a little bit of a shame. While she liked his well-kept appearance, she didn't mind his more bedraggled look. It was adorable and made things feel as if he was truly learning to relax.
He wore a more forest green tunic today with golden threading. It suited him surprisingly well. He offered her tea that he most likely brewed while she was waiting, and she politely accepted.
"You're right," Gwen nodded, taking a sip of the tea which was delicious as always whenever he made it, "But, that's not why I'm here. I come with good news."
"Oh?" Vincent tilted his head in that adorable way of his as he took a sip of his own tea, "Well, don't keep me in suspense."
Gwen smiled, loving that he was able to talk a little more normally with her lately.
"I won't," Gwen assured him, setting the teacup down on the small table between them, "Amberhold has surrendered, and it's all thanks to you."
Vincent froze for a moment as he registered the information he was just told. His eyes went a bit wide and he took another sip of his tea. As if by doing so, it would help him understand what she had just said better. It was incredibly cute.
"It's...my fault?" Vincent asked, causing Gwen's heart to ache a bit.
"No, not your fault," Gwen corrected, "It's thanks to you."
"Ah, right," Vincent set the teacup down and blinked a few times, "They surrendered?"
"Yes," Gwen chuckled a little, seeing that he was in a slight state of shock, "Thanks to your efforts yesterday, Amberhold decided it was in its best interests to surrender. The way to the Academy is open."
Vincent sat there, silent and contemplative. She could see his lips wanting to curl into a smile, quivering there, and yet...his face remained quite impassive. Leaning over, she placed a gentle hand upon his shoulder.
"Vincent, we did it," she told him with a smile, "The Academy is trapped and nothing is standing between us and them. Well, save the barrier, but that's nothing. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Vincent looked to her hand on his shoulder and slowly placed his own hand over it. He squeezed it gently and a slow smile began to finally appear on his face. She watched with a tender heart as his entire face softened and lit up with relief.
"Yes, I understand," Vincent closed his eyes, lifting her hand to his face and pressed against it, "I'll get us through that barrier. They won't hide for long."
"No, Vincent, they won't," Gwen's smile softened, though her words grew a bit firm, "However, you won't get us through that barrier."
"What?" Vincent opened his eyes, looking a little puzzled, "But I-"
"Hush," Gwen placed a finger over his lips, "You've done enough. I will get us through that barrier."
Vincent's eyes lit up in understanding and appreciation as he nodded.
"Very well," Vincent said as he took a deep breath, "I'll leave it to you, Gwen."
-----
(Gwen's POV, a Couple Hours Later)
Amberhold's streets were lined with people cheering for them. As the Wisteria Knight's made their way through the city, many were being praised as liberators. Others were thankful that no collateral damage had been done. Gwen looked to them all from atop her horse, waving to them with a kind smile.
Vincent rode beside her, as he usually did. His gaze was as cool and calm as a tranquil pond. Among the crowds of people, there were many already whispering amongst themselves before giggling like school girls. Even from here, Gwen could hear what they were saying.
"Woah..." one of them marveled, motioning towards Vincent and Gwen, "I can't tell who's Princess here and who's the Prince."
"Shut up, they'll hear you," another chimed in with hushed whispers.
"What? I'm just saying..." they sulked, for they didn't say it in malice.
There were many who whispered similar things. Mentioning how beautiful they thought Vincent was and how handsome they thought Gwen was. It was a little embarrassing, but none of it was said in malice, and so she felt a little prideful. Sitting a little straighter, she smiled towards Vincent when he caught her eye.
His smile was brilliant, and from the crowds many swooned the moment his tranquil face broke into such a gentle, affectionate smile. She couldn't blame them, for even she was a little caught off-guard. It took everything she had to remain on her horse and to look regal.
"Damn it, Vincent..." Gwen chided to herself, "You didn't have to smile like that..."
Taking a deep breath, she attempted to match his smile and the look he gave her. There were many in the crowd who made quite the approving sounds. Moving her horse a little closer to Vincent, she leaned in to whisper to him.
"You should try and wave," she encouraged, "This is technically your moment. It was you who caused the surrender."
"But that's..." Vincent looked at the crowd as he replied to her, seeing all of their happy, starry-eyed expressions, "Is that really okay? I'm just a Mage-Guard."
"Of course, it's okay," Gwen assured him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, "Wave, Vincent. You've earned this victory today."
"But the Academy is still..." Vincent glanced up into Gwen's insisting eyes before sighing, realizing that arguing was going to get him nowhere, "Very well. We'll wave, Gwen."
"H-Huh?" Gwen blinked, confused by his words for a moment before he took her hand upon his shoulder and lifted it up with his own.
With his hand in hers, Vincent raised their arms in victory. Waving it before the people. He turned his smile towards them as Gwen did her best to prevent herself from blushing too fiercely. Did he even know what he was doing?
"We're both responsible for this victory, Gwen," Vincent muttered to her as he continued to smile and wave to the people, "I'll not undermine your own efforts. If not for you, I'd have never been able to do this."
"...You underestimate yourself," Gwen replied with a bit of a sulk in her tone, "But, very well...one of these days I'll get you to accept your merits. Now...could you let go of my hand? It's a little embarrassing."
Vincent's eyes widened slightly, realizing that he was, in fact, holding her hand. A light blush appeared upon his face as he nodded and quickly let go.
"I...apologize," he stated bashfully.
"Don't be," Gwen dismissed, still feeling his touch upon her hand, "I didn't mind."
"But you said..." Vincent tilted his head, a little confused.
"I just said it was a bit embarrassing," Gwen explained with a coy smile, "Not that I hated it."
"O-Oh..." Vincent's face grew even more red, and from behind them she could hear Cassandra and Miranda chuckle to themselves.
"Just wave, Vincent," Gwen began to wave to the people, returning her attention to them.
Vincent nodded, composing himself once more to his tranquil exterior. It warmed her heart to see him coming out of his shell a little bit, and though he may have complained at first, she saw it in his eyes. The feeling of pride. The knowledge that all of these people were cheering for him.
"It's...strange," Vincent spoke up as they finally made it out of the majority of the crowds in the Gate Districts and made their way into the City Proper.
"What is?" Gwen inquired.
"Back there, those people were cheering for me, but..." Vincent took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh, "I was happy, and...angry at the same time. It's irrational. A part of me began to blame them. Why do they only stand up now?"
Gwen's heart ached as she heard this, for it wasn't like she didn't understand.
"Fear, Vincent," she explained softly, "So long as fear takes hold of the heart, many become paralyzed, and sometimes it takes another to free them of that fear so that they may act."
"...Like you did for me," Vincent's words almost choked her up from how sincere and tender they were.
"Yes," Gwen replied warmly, "And just like you did for them. Don't think I didn't see the pride you felt."
Vincent's cheeks turned slightly pink as he glowered at her playfully.
"Please don't tease me, Gwen," he muttered, but she wasn't teasing. Not really.
"I'm not," Gwen proclaimed proudly, "I'm praising you. You're allowed to feel good for things that you do. Especially if you're happy that you did them. So, are you happy you've helped them?"
Vincent thought for a moment, his head tilted in that precious way of his, before he finally nodded.
"Yes, I am," Vincent's smile was small, but filled with an incredibly warmth.
"Then, there's nothing left to say," Gwen chuckled, urging her horse into a brisk walk, "Let's get those bastards in the Academy."
Vincent urged his horse to keep up with hers, and together they made their way into the City Proper along with a portion of their army. Some had to stay back to continue to secure the roads, and the rest were rounding all those who had surrendered. She didn't need many to take the Academy Walls. She only needed one. Herself.
-----
(Vincent's POV)
Vincent continued to remember more and more of his life over the past twelve years. None of it was particularly pleasant. There were moments, very brief pieces of time, where he recalled feeling something he once believed to be happiness. These fleeting moments were whenever he was treated with even an ounce of care.
He recalled being elated. A glimpse of what could be...only to then be taken away from him in the harshest of ways. His world shattered. Over and over again until he knew...happiness, whatever it meant, was not for him. No one ever raised a hand to help him. To save him.
He believed that this was normal. That it was just how things were. People would avoid his gaze. They would go out of their way to avoid him. He was unworthy of their time. He would awake cold and alone. He'd shiver and curl in on himself.
No one had ever helped him. Not a single person came to comfort him. The only comfort was from Vanessa's sick sense of obsession and that of the others he was forced to entertain. Not a single one cared for anything except their own pleasures. Their own desires. Their own greed.
He was nothing but a plaything. Something to be seen, but not heard. Looked at, but never touched. Unless of course you were Vanessa, or someone who paid an extremely high price. His innocence was kept only insofar that Vanessa wished it. Every other part of him had been scoured and destroyed.
Now, he realized something. Fear. Fear was a major defining factor of the mortal condition. He himself was no exception. Fear had taken root in his heart and forced him to obey. Fear was an incredibly powerful tool, but one with a fragile condition. Once the fear is gone, all that is left is an empty shell where it once was. It could only be filled with something else. Hope.
Hope and fear. Fear and hope. They cannot exist without the other and yet also thrive when other is absent. For there to be hope, there must be something fearful to overcome. The hope that it'll get better. For there to be fear, there must be hope that can be taken away. Fear that you'll lose everything.
What happens when you lose all fear? There is nothing left to do except hope for...anything better. The same is true for hope. When all hope is lost, what is there left to do except fear everything. This paradoxical nature finally helped Vincent realize something.
What he thought of as happiness back then had simply been hope before it was lost to fear. In his world, hope could not exist. Hope was an elusive creature that strayed away from the darkness that was fear. Once he tasted hope again, it was such a foreign concept that he doubted it.
He questioned its existence. Those nights when he would wake up to the night terrors that haunted him...only to see that Gwen was right by his side. He couldn't understand it. The feeling deep in his chest. Hope. He feared that it was an illusion.
Such a dangerous and poisonous creature fear was. He never really understood it until he saw those people. When confronted by their happy, cheering faces, he was also reminded of those that had spurned him. Turned their backs and avoided him. Pretended he didn't exist.
Now, they were all focused on him. All praising him. Where were they when he needed them the most? Where were they when he called out for help? His anger came at a surprise. Why were they only fighting back now?
Fear. The very same thing that had kept him docile. That made him obey. It wasn't until she said something that it all came into focus for him. Gwen had been the light in the dark. The hope that he didn't think existed. A part of himself that he had long since locked away, never to be seen again...only to be dragged out by the hand that never gave up.
In this world, there was one person above all who had never given up on him. Who had fought desperately to save him against all the odds stacked against them. It took a long time, but they never stopped, and in the end...they persevered and now he stood by their side. Hope. A dangerous, most intoxicating creature.
He wanted to hold onto it so desperately, but was afraid that if he did...he might lose it again. Thus, fear and hope once again were married in a tumultuous dance. Hope, however, was undoubtably winning out. Now, he was that hope for the people who had been too afraid, too weak to do anything. He resonated with the very people who he believed had turned their backs on him.
They had simply been afraid. Just like he was. He couldn't fight back. He wasn't strong enough. Slave Mark or not, he had been controlled to a point where he didn't need the mark to obey. That was just a safety measure. A cruel tool that those who bore the control mark used to satisfy their sick desires.
Now, with it gone, he understood how liberating it felt to have the chains of fear disappear. His anger quickly dissipated and was replaced by an undiluted understanding. Despite this newfound knowledge, he couldn't help but wonder...was it okay for him to still be a little selfish? To believe that while he understood their fear, it was nothing like his, and so...he asked.
"Gwen..." Vincent knocked on the door to the room she was in, "May I enter?"
"Of course, Vincent," Gwen called from inside, her voice gentle, "It's unlocked."
They had made their way into the City Proper of Amberhold and were now resting as they prepared to assault the Academy. To this end, they had requisitioned the majority of the Luxum Quarter, the wealthy sector on the slopes leading up to the Academy. After having rounded up all those who had surrendered, they had to focus on their next move, but Vincent couldn't help but be lost in thought as he grew closer to the Academy.
Entering into the room, it was a basic study on the second floor of a small manor that belonged to a lesser noble. They had graciously provided it, for they were one of the few Noble Families who actually supported her. Vincent didn't believe there were many, but as always, he was constantly surprised.
She was standing behind the oaken desk at the far side of the room, looking over what appeared to be a map of some sort. As soon as he entered, she looked up with a kind smile on her face.
"Hey, come in," she motioned him over as she turned back to the map, "Is everything alright? I thought you were securing the perimeter?"
"I...was," Vincent answered a little hesitantly as he closed the door, "I finished a while ago. I was just...thinking."
"Oh?" Gwen paused, looking up at him again, but this time she held his gaze, "Anything I can help with?"
"Actually..." Vincent gave her a small, perhaps a little fearful, smile, "I was hoping you could, yes."
Straightening, Gwen made her way around the desk and took him gently by the shoulders. She guided him to a pair of chairs and had him sit. He didn't resist. It felt like his body was heavier than normal, yet was more pliable than ever. She sat in the other chair, giving him her fully, undivided attention.
"Take your time," she soothed, her smile so warm.
He nodded in appreciation as he gathered his thoughts. What if she thought that he was being childish? What if she grew angry at him for thinking so selfishly? What if..."No," he firmly told himself. Gwen wasn't like that.
Despite that, he couldn't look her in the eye. Perhaps it was easier for him to say what he wanted if he wasn't looking at her. Taking a deep breath, he focused his gaze at the ground.
"Gwen..." her name came from his mouth almost like a croak, breaking slightly before he cleared his throat and tried again, "Gwen, do you remember what I said earlier? About being angry...and you told me about fear?"
"I do," she spoke softly, so quietly that it almost felt...intimate.
He couldn't stop his heart from beating so quickly. So loudly. Why was he so nervous? He was afraid. Afraid that the fragile grip he holds on the hope he's gained would fail.
"You helped me to understand," Vincent's words were almost a whisper, "Yet, even as I do, and I do not blame them anymore...I..."
He didn't blame the commonfolk. Those that were as powerless as he was. Even the nobles who may be on Gwen's side...he didn't even blame them. He blamed those that made him this way. That had planted the seed of fear so deep in his heart that it may be a lifetime before he was finally free of it, but in this moment...he took hold of that glimmer of strength that Gwen had given him and pushed forward.
"Is okay for me to think that they don't understand?" Vincent finally risked looking up at her, his eyes almost watering as he felt guilty for what he was feeling, "Twelve years, Gwen. Twelve years of hell. How could they ever understand? Am I allowed to feel selfish? To believe that my pain is above theirs? I do not deny theirs, but...I cannot hide mine."
His lower lip was quivering ever so slightly with the fear of reprisal. His heart tensed itself. Clenching within his chest. Gwen looked at him with those unfairly beautiful, soft eyes of hers. They held such an intense sympathy that it almost drowned him.
However, before he was washed away by the tides, a firm hand took hold of him. She placed her hand on his forearm and held a strong, intense gaze that was not filled with malice, but a desire to be serious in that moment. He was held with rapt attention by that gaze and the words she then spoke.
"No," it was like a blast to his gut as the tension released from his body.
The breath he didn't know he was holding came out with explosive force as he began to heave a bit. Breathing heavily to gain the oxygen he so desperately needed. He didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or both. Only her touch was enough to ground him in that moment.
Tilting his chin towards her with her other hand, her smile inviting and warm. He was captivated.
"It's okay to be selfish, Vincent," Gwen's words were like sweet honey, and he drank up every last drop of them, "So long as you remember, and so long as you know, to never use that against them. You have every right to feel that way, and I know you're strong enough, and kind enough, to never let that affect how you treat others."
Of course, he wouldn't hold it against them. He wouldn't flaunt it in their faces or devalue their own pain and the fear in their hearts. He knows it all too well. Who is he to deny them that? Just so long as he is not denied. Just so long as it is okay to feel the way that he feels.
He would never undermine them, so he only wanted to hear that they would never undermine his. No...that wasn't right. He wanted to hear that she didn't undermine his. It was never about them, but about her. To hear her say those words...that it was okay.
"Be selfish, Vincent," Gwen continued, her words firm and without any stutter, "Ask for things. I will give you everything within my power, for it's what you deserve and more. Not just because you're my precious friend, but because I care about you. I will never let another harm you for so long as I am alive. They'd have to kill me, and that, Vincent, is much easier said than done."
Vincent found himself smiling, but not a smile that he's ever given before. There was always something holding him back whenever he showed any emotion before. Something always missing. Yet, in that moment, there was nothing holding that smile back.
To be told by the one he trusted the most, the one that mattered the most to him, that he could be selfish...it was more liberating than having the Slaver Mark removed. There was always a fear deep in his heart that everything he was feeling was wrong. Whether it was left over from his time as a slave, he did not know. All he knew is that she had freed him of that burden.
"Thank you, Gwen," he told her sincerely and with every ounce of fondness in his heart for her, "Truly. Just to know that it's okay...means more to me than you'll ever know. Thank you."
He placed a hand over hers and saw a blush enter her face. It wasn't always easy to fluster her, but when she was...it was too adorable. "Cute..." he mused to himself, seeing this woman who was the epitome of strength in his eyes, crack a little. She quickly composed herself, and he realized something. He didn't feel the least bit guilty in thinking what he thought about her.
If he could truly be selfish, then perhaps when this is all over...he could address the burning emotion within his heart. The one that always appeared whenever Gwen was nearby.
"Any time, Vincent," she told him with a soft smile, "Was there anything else?"
"No," he shook his head, removing his hand from hers so she could take it back, "At least for now. Is there anything I can help you with?"
"As a matter of fact...there is," Gwen's eyes lit up mischievously, "I think it's about time we breach that wall."
Vincent's heart was beating rapidly in his chest, excited at the prospect of helping her. There was nothing in this world he'd rather do.
-----
