Chapter Text
At the Wolffort Encampment, Flanagan made it known to Lord Serenoa of his desire to return Aesfrost. To hear this was no small surprise.
“Are you sure Ser Flanagan?” Serenoa raises his arm. “Your service as a shieldmaster and flyer is always welcome as a part of House Wolffort.”
“Aye m’lord. I’ll never forget what you and your house have done for me. You gave me a home, a new shield and…” Flanagan looks to the children outside playing, then to his new shield. “A family worth protecting.”
“Then why leave?”
“Because Gustadolph’s poison runs deep. I can’t allow the kids, Piccoletta, Quahaug, and even Decimal grow up and see this chapter anew. Someone needs to help Lord Svarog make things right again. Besides,” Flanagan shows his old mark on his mail with the Aesfrosti emblem. “I’ll always be an Aesfrosti at heart. It’s about time I saw my wife’s grave as well. Thankfully the cold makes it hard for weeds to grow, but still, it will probably need tending.”
Serenoa heaves a heavy sigh. “Well, it’s not my place to keep you shackled. We must all stand by our convictions. Before you leave, however, I think some people might want to say goodbye.” Serenoa looks at the edge of the tent’s entrance.
Hughette came in and thanked for every flying lesson shared by the two, with Flanagan sneakily mentioning how Flugie could probably carry a certain blonde alongside her. Outside the two hawks crowed at each other, seemingly bidding each other luck as well.
Rudolph wished the old soldier well, stating how it’ll be boring having to rely on Erador now that their favorite moving target is gone. Flanagan promised to tell Sycras of how well the former smuggler is as a member of House Wolffort.
Groma and Archibald stepped forward and simply nodded approvingly to Flanagan. Their age could say more with actions than words.
Finally, Quahaug, Piccoletta, and Decimal surrounded Flanagan in a hug, one back given in kind. The children, thankfully seeing little battle, were the closest Flanagan had to his own. The moment was enough to break his stateliness and see him cry with the children, and everyone in attendance, knowing the departure of a strong ally and friend.
After a few days, with Lord Svarog’s visit comes Ser Flanagan’s departure. Svarog, ever the emotional man, wipes his eyes at the sight of the children, hugging the stately hawkshield goodbye, ball in tow. “I will always be part of Lord Svarog’s retinue whenever he visits Glenbrook.”
On the journey home, the new leader of Aesfrost couldn’t help but ask.
“Good Ser Flanagan, are you sure you want to leave your new family? This crotchety old man can do plenty by himself you know.”
“I appreciate the offer Lord Svarog, but it’s for their sake that I’m doing this. I don’t know how many of Gustadolph’s cronies still hold power, but I will make sure to find them and keep them in line.” Flanagan tightens his grip on his shield.
“I see. Is this then the new chapter of the Bloody Shield, seeker of vengeance?”
“No, m’lord. This is the new story of the People’s Shield, seeker of justice.”
Notes:
Time for Matt to cause some tears! This was originally a story relating to a certain line that might hint at a deeper relationship between Groma and Ezana’s stories, but as I was writing the prologue I thought, “hey isn’t Flanagan mostly here to help liberate Aesfrost from Gustadolph?” And voila! Here we are. The prologue gave me an idea to do something like this for each optional party member, but no promises. Also shoutout to gray_sw and her work in A Sack Of Spoils that provided the counterpoint that this story with how she tackled Flanagan.
Watch out for that Groma and Ezana story though, I really want to do that one 👀
Chapter Text
“M’lord before I enter Aesfrost proper, there’s something I need to do.” Flanagan tells Svarog as they pass by the mines.
“Very well, Ser Flanagan, my company will go forth before you.”
Near the mines, near the mountains of Aesfrost, there was a small village. Not large enough for most to put on the map but Flanagan could see it upon Ursin’s back.
At one corner, a house most would overlook, Flanagan knocks on the door.
A man answers, and gasps when he recognizes who it is. Flanagan bows his head to him, apologizing for the sudden visit. Inside, in the bed, there’s a mother, golden hair frayed but tenderly nursing her baby on her chest. She looks up and smiles.
“Well Ser Flanagan, meet the third soul you saved that day.”
“Little bundle of joy came to the world late last night.”
The hawkshield takes a nearby stool by the bed and places his hand on the infant’s head. As soon as he reaches out, she grasps his pinky with her hand. Far from the firm steel of his shield, or the playful arms of the children, it is a soft wrap on his finger.
“We did promise that we’d name the child after you if they were a boy, but as things are now, we have even forgotten what we were gonna name her in the middle of everything.”
“It was an honor to even be considered the namesake of this little one.”
Flanagan fondly gazes at the child.
“If I may be so bold, I would want to suggest a name; Ursula.”
The couple looks at themselves in realization and astonishment.
“Dear wasn’t that-“
“It is. The name we thought of at first. Ursula!” The husband proclaims.
“Quiet down, you oaf. you’ll wake up the baby.”
“Sorry…”
Back in Aesfrost, by the graveyard, Svarog got to work in removing some weeds around a grave. He did not mean to take time away from Flanagan and his wife, but he thought it as a gesture of thanks for accompanying him in rebuilding Aesfrost. He made sure however to leave polishing the tombstone to Flanagan, which wrote:
Rest in Peace,
Ursula Grutte
Loving daughter of Aesfrost,
faithful wife
Notes:
I feel content with how my works showcases love not just in the romantic kind, but also in special ways like family and found family. I almost forgot (read: dumped with school work) to write one about the family Flanny saved, but I felt with how I wrote the last one, it’d be a crime not to. I used the name grey gave Flanagan's hawk because I felt it to be fitting, but his wife's name was something I thought of.
If I ever made a romance-focused story, I’d put Groma x Archie because I grew up seeing my grandparents so much in love. I’m sorry but I don’t feel like I can add much more fluffiness to Benedor.
Them searching for snow bells might be fun though… I take back what I said. TO THE SNOWBELL FIELDS!