The Warden | A For Honor Fanfiction

Assurances

I shook my head and ran this question over and over again in my mind, seeking any solution. My authority was nowhere near strong enough to call for Blackstone to cease their aggression, the days of the Iron Legion's authority had long since faded. Calling for another round of talks would almost certainly be dismissed, if not by Blackstone, then certainly by Kharion. If Herongale's fate were to be decided by Champion, Stone or myself could volunteer willingly before Kharion had a chance to produce one. There'd be hell to pay after, but at least Herongale would have an honest chance.

"If it comes to Trial by Champion, you or I will move forward as a volunteer. We will not allow Kharion to dispute this." I asserted.

"And if it doesn't come to that?" Stone asked. I knew what he meant in an instant. The worst of all cases, treachery on behalf of Herongale. If that happened, any chance we had would be lost. Blackstone would see them as mere brutes, and that would mean that anything and everything was permitted against them, just like the Vikings or the Samurai. Honor would mean nothing. I dreaded the thought of an unbound Blackstone Legion...

"I don't know." Was all I could say. It was this uncertainty that drove me to look at Deborah, still curled up tight, eyes red and still wet from tears. She had yet to say a word since the meeting, she barely responded at all save from a nod or shake of the head. It pained me to see her so distraught.

"Deborah, are you okay?" I asked, rising to my feet. Stone did not follow my lead, but did turn his head to face her. She remained just as silent as before, though she did raise her eyes to meet mine. Faint bits of snot ran down her nostrils, just above her trembling lips. Even her irises seemed to shake, sending fresh tears flowing. It felt so wrong seeing her this frightened...

"Deborah, it's okay. It's just us. We're here." I said in the calmest and gentle voice I could, strong just in front of her on the bed. Hoping to ease her burden, I gently reached for her hands, taking one into my own and giving a soft squeeze. She looked at our hands for a moment, then sniffed as she used her free palm to wipe her snot and tears away.

"I thought... I wanted him dead..." She choked out. It seemed to take visible effort for her not to cry, swallowing her breath between her words. Stone shifted beside us, and I could see him stand in the corner of my vision.

"Belial, you mean?" He asked. Deborah nodded slowly, her face scrunching lightly as she continued to fight for her composure.

"I'd heard... stories of my old home. Blackstone, they took it. I wanted him... to be dead." She stammered, her breathing accelerated once more as she began to lose control. Now I had to fight back tears of my own. Seeing such a fiery young woman reduced to this was bad enough, let alone one I'd come to care for in such a short time.

"You didn't recognize his name, his voice, or his armor before now?" Stone asked. Whatever composure Deborah had left seemed to shatter in that moment. She clenched her eyes and began to weep, shouting out;

"I never learned his name! It was just Lawbringer! Lawbringer, okay?! No, I didn't recognize him! My dad was dying! He was dying and I couldn't help him!" I held a hand out and took her by the arm, gently rubbing her as I held a free hand to Stone.

"That's enough, Stone, leave her be." I ordered. Now wasn't the time to question her on her memory, she was far too distressed for that. To his credit, Stone seemed to realize his mistake, as he smiled sadly and hung his head. I focused my attention back on Deborah, who was now in full blown hysterics. Not knowing what else to do, I pulled her in close and held her against me. I gently stroked her back as I felt her arms wrap around me, holding on tight as she sobbed into my shoulder.

All I cared about in that moment was wanting her to feel better, everything else seemed so insignificant now. I gently shushed her as she continued to cry, her sobs interrupted only by the occasional gasp for air as she struggled. I felt so terrible for her, but what more could I do for her? I was powerless, a realization that only deepened my guilt.