My Raphtalia, My Queen (Raphtalia x male reader)

Chapter 45: The Caverns

Hours had gone by since, and the group had delved a bit deeper. The attack had cut down the group to a far smaller band. Grimgor called in the situation, and command had placed him in charge. You looked around. All the dwarves that were left, aside from Grimgor, were young and traumatised. They hugged themselves, rocking back and forth with pale faces. The elf, whom had danced with the spiders in a bloody ballet, sharpened her curved swords with a whetstone. Your eyes rested on Grimgor, who was staring at you. 

"Something the matter?" you asked

"What's your name?"

"(Yn), and yours?"

"Grimgor."

"Well, nice to meet you?" 

"And that girl's name? The one you ran here with?"

"Oh, her name's Raphtalia. Why do you ask?" 

Grimgor shrugged. "Just curious, I suppose. She your girlfriend then?"

You blushed and grew an embarrassed smile on your face. "I-I suppose so, yes." Grimgor nodded. He knew that kind of smile. 

"Congrats mate. You two expecting then?" 

"Huh? Expecting what?" you asked.

"Children." your face flushed red. 

"N-N-N-No! W-Why would you...s-s-say that?" Grimgor roared at your nervous stammerings and waved a hand. 

"Oh, I was just teasing lad." he sat forward and cleared his throat. He spoke in a softer, almost hushed voice. "Truth be told, my wife's expecting. Hopefully, anyways." 

"Is she? Well, I'm happy for you."

Grimgor nodded. "We've been trying for a long time, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed. Just gotta make it back, but that's easier said than done." 

The blonde elf for earlier suddenly stood up and sat down on a pile of stone between you and Grimgor. She took out a few leaves from her pouch and began munching on them. "(Huh...are elves vegetarians)" you thought. 

"So, (Yn) correct?" she asked, turning to you. 

"Yes. And you're Ayaka, I presume?"

"You presume correctly. Tell me, what brings you here on this suicide mission?" her voice was as the fine stone buildings of Unten. 

"I'm here to turn the tide of the battle. And...let's just say I'm here on more personal matters." you muttered. "What about you?"

"Me?" Ayaka scoffed. "You could say I was...spurred on. Yeah, that's the word for it."

"Spurred on?" you asked.

"Yeah. There was this guy, absolute sweetheart he was. I liked him, and I knew he liked me." she pointed to Grimgor, whose head was hung low in shame. "One of his soldiers. Put into a coma earlier today, and I'll be honest...it doesn't look good."

"Doesn't explain why you're here" you pointed out. Ayaka shoved another leaf into her mouth and shrugged. 

"I guess I was just tired of men jeering at me. Being a barmaid pays alright, but it takes its toll. Magath was always such a gentleman. Hell, he even defended me a few times. I didn't need it, but...well..." she wiped her eyes, a warm smile formed on her lips. "If Magath wasn't on the edge of death, he'd probably be here. So, think of it as me filling in for him." You nodded slowly and returned to peering into the fire. You snacked on a piece of roasted spider. It tasted awful, but it was invigorating. This entire trip felt surreal. You remembered only brief moments in time, as if you were watching a real of images. You hoped Raphtalia was safe. You didn't want to leave her, but you had no other choice. She looked so cute as well...so soft...so warm...

Raphtalia was sat up in the bed. She scanned the room around her. (Yn) was gone. "No wonder the bed feels so cold..." She rubbed her eyes and got up from her bed, and her way towards the baths down the corridor. The water felt so comforting, just like (Yn)'s arms. She hung her head low. "Please (Yn)...please come back to me..."

She was out of the tavern before long; thanking the owners for taking such splendid care of her. With her sword at her side and boots fitted tight, she wandered through the streets of Unten. Normally, the city would have been a dazzling sight: beautiful stone-carved buildings, dream-catching airships and warm yellow and orange lights lit up the stony skies. But, the steampunk fairytale turned to horror as the streets were looked at more closely. Those with slight injuries, such as deep gashes or missing eyes, were patched up and slumped onto the streets. Those at the brink of death were rushed to hospitals, inns, or the homes of good samaritans. Soldiers rushed towards the front line, their doom awaiting them in a choir of gunfire and savage snarls. The wails of infants echoed constantly. "This is war..." Raphtalia muttered. One child, a demi-human, looked locked eyes with her. She appeared to be a cruel mimic of Raphtalia, pink eyes and all. She was covered in blood, and her cheeks looked tired from crying. Beside her was a blanketed body, with a bleeding hand protruding from it. Tears swelled in Raphtalia's face, and she moved towards the solum child. 

Then, an explosion shook the air. Not the detonation of a grenade one could occasionally catch in the wind. No, this blast deafened ears, broke glass windows, rumbled the cobbled pavements and threw people into the air. Raphtalia landed with a cry. Her wounds were still newly healed, after all. She stood up with great difficulty, and drew her sword as a walking stick for balance. She coughed violently from thick dust clouds that plumed into the streets, its ashy taste burning the back of her throat. Then, she could smell it. Blood. Deep, sickening and fragrant. She turned towards that child, and it was gone. Buried under a chunk of rubble from the obliterated house just above it. All that was left was a splatter of blood. Raphtalia recoiled in shock. She collapsed, and coated the cracked road with vomit. Blood dripped down from further beyond, mixing in with the vile liquid. The tanuki rubbed her mouth, gripped her sword and ran towards the main gate.

But the main gate was no more. Raphtalia stood before a gaping hole in the side of the mountain, her silhouette a dark outline from the blinding light of the earth outside. People scrambled away and soldiers rushed in as monsters flooded the entrance. The entrances to the minecart tracks were caved in, crushing friend and foe alike. Soldiers of all races rushed now to the main gate as goblins, orcs, zombies, giants, trolls, werewolves and whatever other monsters one could field were let loose among the populace. Raphtalia rushed in without order, defending civilians from the vicious clutches of these savage terrors. She carved a gory path for the citizens to escape to. Blood poured and pooled into great rivers as Raphtalia guided her blade through the flesh of her opponents. Even if the skin was tough, muscley or even armoured, Raphtalia's blade sliced through like butter. Blood was splattered onto her from head to toe. She knew what this pain was like, for invaders to helplessly slaughter and steal away your life. But there was nobody there to help them. Now, she was there, and she wasn't going to let a single damn one of these monsters get past here. 

The light towards the outside seemed to darken. Raphtalia felt something in her heart. She looked around to peer at the faces of her current comrades. Fear and panic were plastered onto them. A dark figure stepped forward from the light. The world seemed to stop moving. Everybody, everything, every sound, every light, every muscle seemed to be frozen in time. This cloaked figure stepped forward. It rose its head. For some reason, Raphtalia could not see his face, but rather a patch of darkness where its face should have been. It protruded a blade from its cloak. Its hands looked tortured and rotten; charred black and decayed to a few tatterings of skin. Smoke seemed to rise from its headless face, and from that darkness two blood-red, smokey eyes appeared; its maddened gaze locked onto Raphtalia. 

"Hello Raphtalia. Shall we dance?"