Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Zola wrung his hands nervously, eyes fixed on the looming figure of King Garon.

“So…Your Majesty. I’ve followed through on my end of the deal… Can you please tell Lord Leo not to kill me after all? And, um, while you’re at it…” Zola shrank into himself under the king’s cold gaze. “Would it inconvenience you terribly to pardon Liege Corrin? The Hoshidans have practically brainwashed them! This isn’t their fault!”

“What’s the matter, Zola? Conscience bothering you?”

Zola ignored the noble’s taunt. They would thank him down the line for intervening on their behalf, whether they appreciated it or not.

“Please, King Garon!” Zola threw himself upon his master’s mercy, certain that his flawless execution of such a cunning betrayal had earned him at least one, eensy weensy request. “I beg of you!”

The king scowled down at him, grey complexion still glistening with sweat from the discomfort Azura’s song had caused.

“This grows tiresome,” the king growled.

A pit dropped in Zola’s stomach.

“Wait…but…”

“But nothing!” Garon roared, slamming the haft of his greataxe against the floor of the small boat he was standing in, causing it to bob and send a ripple of waves out across the water. “You think you have the right to ask me for anything?”

Hefting the axe into his grasp, King Garon swung the massive length of ebony steel over his head.

With a shriek, Zola cowered in the blade’s shadow, frozen in fear. Shutting his eyes tight, all he could do was pray for a swift end.

Suddenly, there was a flash of light behind his eyes and the stomach-turning sensation of tumbling weightlessly through space. If this was death, at least it was painless, if still not particularly pleasant.

Garon’s axe crashed into the floor, slicing through the lush carpet, splintering the wood below, and embedding several inches of its head into the boards. The king sneered at the empty space where Zola had cowered seconds ago.

“Fah.”

Zola’s shaking knees gave out, sending him to the floor in a crumpled heap.

“H-Huh? Wuh?”

“Azama!” Hinoka shouted as she pulled her pegasus back from nearly landing on the mage as he appeared out of thin air at her feet. “What the heck was that?!”

“Why, my lady, I was only following your orders. You said, and I quote, ‘If it looks like that little rat-faced worm is about to pull something, do whatever you must to stop him. But I want him alive. No one gets to snap that cretin’s twiggy throat but me.’”

Hinoka winced as her own words were thrown back in her face.

“Grr. W-Well why did you wait until the last second?! You should have brought him over the instant he turned on us!”

“Oh, well, Setsuna got her foot stuck when a board broke under her and was tugging at my robes with such force in an attempt to free herself that I was quite indisposed in the moment.”

“Yeah…” Setsuna’s resigned sigh piped up from the back of the formation.

“For the love of-” Hinoka sighed. “Well, at least she had the good sense to free herself this time. And at least you helped. Sort of.”

“Oh, no,” Azama said with a carefree smile. “She is still very much stuck and will likely drown if the enemy doesn’t get to her first. The only one I succeeded in extricating was myself, from her grasp. The good news is that she will make excellent bait to cover our retreat.”

“You didn’t have to swat me on the head with your staff… That hurt, you know?” Setsuna said.

“Uh, guys?” Corrin cut in. “Maybe we could have this discussion later, once we’re all safe? Rinka, get Setsuna’s foot freed. Zola, can you stand?”

“Huh? Um, yes?” Still reeling, the lanky mage pushed himself to his feet. He wavered, feeling dizzy. Whether that was from the unexpected teleportation or the shock of having nearly been executed, he wasn’t sure.

“Good. Saizo: ensure our prisoner makes it back to base safely.”

“Prisoner?!” Zola cried, shrinking from the terrifying shinobi that advanced on him.

“We can’t overlook your transgressions this time, Zola,” Corrin said calmly. “But rest assured: your life is not in any danger. I think you’ve seen by now that I’m not a fan of unnecessary bloodshed. We can talk back at our base and decide where we go from there. But for now, I’m afraid you’ll have to endure.”

Zola jumped as the ninja with a scar running the length of his face grabbed his hands and bound them tightly behind his back.

“I wouldn’t put up a fight if I were you,” Saizo growled in his ear. “But then again, I’m not stupid enough to throw away the trust of a naive saint like Corrin just to deliver my life into the hands of a murderous tyrant.”

Every nerve in Zola’s thin frame screamed for him to flee, to find some way to break his bonds and return himself to King Garon’s side where he belonged. But he knew better. King Garon had nearly driven his axe straight through him. And from the sounds of it, it had largely been through whim and happenstance that he was still alive. He put up no struggle as the ninja dragged him into formation. He barely raised his eyes as battle raged around them, his mind wandering aimlessly across the rubble of his life as it crumbled around him. The only thing keeping him tethered to consciousness was the bite of the ropes around his wrists every time he was yanked to or fro by his captor.

He was at least cognizant enough to be thankful he was the Hoshidans’ prisoner. Had the roles been reversed, the Nohrians would have tied the other end of the rope to a wyvern and dragged him along across the battlefield behind them. In that sense, he had ultimately made the right choice after all.

Chapter Text

Zola looked up as the creaking of the prison building’s front door echoed down the hall. He shifted nervously at the approach of footsteps, only partially relaxing as Corrin entered his cell with Saizo in tow.

“Such impressive precautions for little, old me.” The dark mage gave his captor a smarmy grin. “I’ll admit: even I never could have guessed you had your own pocket dimension to retreat to. Explains why you were so hard to track.”

“No need to play coy here, Zola. We’re safe from any of Nohr’s prying eyes. And to say that you’ve already shown us your true colors would be an understatement.”

Saizo locked the door behind them and stood between it and Zola, arms crossed staunchly over his chest. Sitting down across from Zola in the cramped holding cell, Corrin held out a zhēnglóng filled with gold and silver mantou. Despite the obvious attempt at a refined presentation, the buns themselves were impressively lumpy and irregularly shaped for how simple they were meant to be.

“The kitchen has been backed up all morning thanks to an unfortunate scheduling oversight. My apologies that this is all we can offer.”

Zola hesitated, eyes flicking from Corrin to Saizo’s scowling mug to the buns. He gingerly plucked one from the batch with his talon-like fingernails.

“Er… Thanks.”

“Don’t worry. These are leftovers from yesterday. Subjecting you to Hinoka and Setsuna’s tag-team lunch would be cruel and unusual punishment.”

With a comfortable smile, Corrin picked out one of the buns for themself and took a bite. Satisfied that they were unlikely to be poisoned, Zola followed suit, scarfing down the morsel desperately. Despite their appearance, they were a more than welcome reprieve from his gnawing hunger.

“Have as many as you like,” Corrin encouraged.

“All right. What’s your angle?” Zola asked, taking another of the warm mantou. Its simple sweetness was heaven on his tongue, creating an unsettling dissonance with his situation. “If you and the wolf are here to try and squeeze me for information, I’m afraid I have precious little to offer that you wouldn’t already know.”

Saizo shot him a scowl, but the mage didn’t flinch.

“You know, Zola, I just can’t figure you out,” Corrin admitted, dodging the question nimbly. “You snivel and scheme like your life depends on it all to save your own head, but then you’ll go and do things like saving Takumi from that shade on the boat, beg Garon to spare me, and provoke Saizo here. You’re a mess of contradictions.”

“Heh. You’re too kind, really. I never thought you’d be following my exploits as closely as I had been yours. Like I said before, though, the thing with Lord Takumi was all a ruse. We had healers nearby. My life was in no true jeopardy. Certainly less than it would have been returning home in disgrace. As for Mr. Tall-Dark-And-Ominous here,” he gave Saizo a shit-eating grin, “you’ve promised my safety so long as I’m your prisoner. I don’t trust the ninja as far as I can throw him, but I trust your word, and he’s loyal to you. Ergo.”

“Fair enough. Although, he’s a little looser about following orders than Kaze or Kagero.”

“I’ll not have you smear my name as I stand idly by,” Saizo growled. “If anything, my willingness to get a job done dirty over not at all makes me the superior operative.”

Zola swallowed heavily as Saizo gripped his hand into a fist hard enough to crack his knuckles, nearly choking on his mantou.

“Anyway,” Corrin held out the bamboo steamer again once Zola had stopped coughing, “what about the bit where you asked King Garon to pardon me? Despite your words to him, I’m sure you can see I’m anything but brainwashed. My mind’s never been clearer.”

“I let you get away with a non-answer earlier, yet I can’t get the same courtesy?”

“Answer the question, clown.” Saizo stood up from the wall he’d been leaning against coolly.

“Yeep!” Zola jumped in his seat. “All right, all right! Yeesh. Tough crowd.

“That was…nothing more than repaying a debt. You’d saved my life. I owed it to you to at least try to do the same.”

“You repaid that debt when you saved Takumi.”

“By the dragons, do you have steamed brains as well? That was a trick. I did it only to convince you all to let your guards down. And it worked like a charm.”

“And yet, my brother still lives only because of you, regardless of your motives.”

Zola squirmed on the wooden bench, stuffing another mantou in his mouth.

“One good turn deserves another.” Corrin smiled. “At least, that’s what I believe. I’m not going to have you executed, despite your betrayal.”

“Oh! Mighty generous of you. And I mean that sincerely.”

“However, if your life was at risk before, I suspect you definitely won’t be able to return to Nohr now.”

“Oh, yes. Indeed. I may dress the part, but I’m no fool. I’d be dead within a fortnight, likely much sooner.”

“You seem awfully…cheerful about it.”

“It’s more like, the situation I find myself in is so absurd that I can’t help but laugh.”

“I see. I don’t understand, in all honesty, but I respect your viewpoint nonetheless.” Standing, Corrin turned for the door. Saizo dutifully unlocked it and waited. “In any case, it seems as though you have nowhere safe to go. I couldn’t in good conscience throw you to the wolves after you stuck your neck out for me with Garon, even if it was maybe a bit more literally than you’d intended it to be. But I also can’t make a decision like this without consulting the others.”

Zola looked from Corrin to the zhēnglóng, which they had left on the bench opposite him. Three mantou still sat within the steamer, glistening with condensation. He smiled at the idealistic royal, but it didn’t have the same devil-may-care smarm he usually carried. It was a tired, weak crook in his thin lips.

“Well, I’ll be here if you need me, I suppose. I hope the advocacy goes better for you than it did for me.”

Chapter Text

“These are the stables.”

“So they are.”

“Over there is the kitchen and mess hall.”

“Indeed…”

“The armoury-”

“Look, can we talk about-”

“No.”

Zola shut his mouth and obediently followed Saizo on their tour of the base. The premises were bright, peaceful, and spotless; quite the opposite of Nohr.

“I really think my integration into Corrin’s army would go a lot smoother if I knew the exact terms of my release. Wouldn’t want to break any rules through sheer ignorance, after all.”

“Ask them yourself. If it were up to me, you’d have been tortured for all you’re worth, and whatever remained of you left for the vultures.”

“Eep!”

Saizo rolled his eyes at the dark mage’s skittishness.

“So long as you do not prove yourself a threat, I shall abide by the agreement they and their siblings came to. You need only fear my blade if you plan to cause trouble.”

“Ah, well!” Zola cleared his throat as his voice cracked. “I have no such plans, so I expect we shall have little to quibble over! Please, after you.”

Stepping aside with a bow, Zola nearly tumbled ass over kettle when Saizo gave his shoulder a forceful shove.

“Do you seriously think I would turn my back on scum like you? You first. I insist.”

“Eep! Y-Yes sir!”

Stumbling on ahead to the indicated building, Zola prayed to the Dark Dragon that their tour wasn’t fated to end with an impromptu demonstration of the gallows.

Chapter Text

Knock, knock, knock.

Corrin
“Zola? Are you in? I really need to talk to you. Zola?

“Huh. The door’s unlocked. Zola? Doesn’t look like he’s in.

“Hm? What in the world is this? Some kind of…metal skeleton?”

Zola
“Hey! Can’t a guy get a little privacy?

“Corrin?!”

Corrin
“Zola? Oh, gods!”

Zola
“Tch. I am really that much of an eye sore?”

Corrin
“My apologies. I didn’t realize you were at the baths. I needed to speak with you urgently, and your door was unlocked, so I let myself in.”

Zola
“Is that so? Well, let me put a robe on and we can have a proper face-to-face.

“There.”

Corrin
“Thank you. Hm? Zola, are you walking with a cane?”

Zola
“Yes. Now, what did you need to talk about so urgently that you barged into my room and started rummaging through my belongings looking for me?”

Corrin
“Why the cane? Are you injured?”

Zola
“No. It’s…just something I have to live with. Can we talk about whatever you came here for?”

Corrin
“Oh, yes. I’ve received several disturbing reports from people around camp that you’ve been performing strange rituals in the dead of night out in the fields. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Zola
“And just what part of my rituals is so strange and alarming, hm?”

Corrin
“Well, er…”

Zola
“So, you’re happy to avail yourself of my talents when it suits you, and the other mages are free to hone their crafts in their free time, but I’m on some probation no one’s told me about?”

Corrin
“I just wanted to ensure nothing shady was going on. People are understandably nervous of your presence.”

Zola
“Fair enough, but if they could be a little more specific in their accusations so that I can properly defend myself and clear the air, it would be quite helpful.”

Corrin
“...you’re right. My apologies for assuming they had grounds to be suspicious without properly investigating. You’re one of us now. I owe you the same fairness I would show anyone else in camp.”

Zola
“It’s fine. Like, I get it. I don’t disagree that they have cause to be wary of me. I just…would like to get a fair shake, you know?

“There’s a lot you’re doing here that’s an improvement over what King Garon’s got going on in Nohr. I’d hate to see it tainted in haste, no matter how well-intentioned.”

Corrin
“Of course. I’ll speak to everyone personally and see if we can’t get this all sorted out. Good night, Zola.”

Zola
“Wait.”

Corrin
“Yes?”

Zola
“Er…you said before that my door was unlocked when you came looking for me?”

Corrin
“Yes. You should probably be a little more careful. Not that I think anyone around here would steal anything, but still. Better safe than sorry.”

Zola
“Indeed… Good night, Corrin.

“...

“All right, Mr. Lone Wolf Ninja. Wherever you’re hiding, the jig’s up.

“You haven’t killed me in my sleep yet, so I won’t demand you leave immediately. But, well…it would be a shame if any untoward rumors were to start about a certain shinobi being a Peeping Tom.

“Good night, Ninja Boy. Wherever you’re lurking.”

…

…

Saizo
“...”

Chapter Text

Corrin
“Zola, would you mind staying behind now that the strategy meeting is through? I have something I want to speak with you about.”

Zola
“But of course! What can I do for you, my liege?”

Corrin
“I spoke to the individuals who’d reported your rituals to me before.

“As you suggested, there was very little detail of substance they could offer that pointed to any wrongdoing. Other than it being at night, your being alone, and well, your being from Nohr, they couldn’t cite any reasonable cause for alarm. I owe you an apology.”

Zola
“Consider it already forgiven. I’m just glad we could clear up this little misunderstanding.”

Corrin
“As am I.”

Zola
“Well, if that’s all, I’ll be heading to dinner.”

Corrin
“Wait. I also had something…personal to ask. Hopefully not too personal.”

Zola
“Oho? You have my attention. Whatever could the noble Corrin wish to know about little, old me?”

Corrin
“When I entered your room that night and you weren’t there, I saw some kind of strange, metal contraption laid out on your bed.”

Zola
“Ah.”

Corrin
“I’m sorry. Please know that I’m not accusing you of anything, and if you don’t want to tell me about it, that’s fine. I owe you that much trust and more after my thoughtlessness.”

Zola
“Hnn… No. I appreciate that, but I’d rather not leave any room for doubt to fester between us. It sounds like you saw my brace.”

Corrin
“Your…brace? Brace for what?”

Zola
“My spine. I’ve suffered from weakness and spasms in my back since I was but a boy. Indeed, that is what initially turned me on to books and magic. The brace makes walking around unassisted doable, although it doesn’t solve every aspect of it.”

Corrin
“I’m so sorry.”

Zola
“It’s fine. As I said, it’s just something I have to live with.”

Corrin
“How often do you need to wear it?”

Zola
“All the time. Unless I’m lying down.”

Corrin
“Huh? But, you weren’t wearing it that night.”

Zola
“But of course. Do your knights wear their armor into the baths? Of course not. They’d rust themselves shut. I can get by with my cane if it’s a short distance and I’m not in a rush.”

Corrin
“Forgive me if I’m prying, but I’ve never seen you wear it in all the time you’ve been with us.”

Zola
“Heh heh. Naturally. And yet, if I snap my fingers-”

Corrin
“Oh! It suddenly appeared on your person.”

Zola
“Now you see it-

“And now you don’t.”

Corrin
“Ah, I think I get it. You use your illusion magic to conceal it.”

Zola
“Ding ding ding! Correct! We have a winner. I can see why the others so value your insight, dear leader. N-Not that I ever doubted you!”

Corrin
“Ha ha. Please, it was a simple guess with how generous you’ve been in humouring my questions.”

Zola
“Think nothing of it. All of your questions have been perfectly reasonable, and you’ve been a sight politer about it than most. Er, if you could just keep all of this between us, by the way, I’d appreciate it.”

Corrin
“Sure, but…is that why you conceal it with magic?”

Zola
“More or less. Having to explain myself over and over becomes…tiresome.”

Corrin
“But if you never have the conversation with them, they’ll never come to understand. Just like myself.”

Zola
“I can see where such a notion would be anathema to one as beloved - deservedly - as yourself. But I’m quite used to it, personally.”

Corrin
“It’s a self-perpetuating cycle, though. Is it really worth it if it means having to hide it forever?”

Zola
“Yes.”

Corrin
“...”

Zola
“With all due respect, I don’t feel any profound need to be understood inside and out by everyone I meet, or even everyone I work with. I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I’m not convinced that naked honesty is necessarily always the best policy. Now, unless you had any other pressing questions, I believe dinner will be served shortly.”

Corrin
“Right. That was all.

“...

“Even if you say that, it must get lonesome sometimes. Doesn’t it?”

Chapter Text

Corrin
“Zola!”

Zola
“Yeep! Y-Yes, my liege? Is there a problem?”

Corrin
“I’ll say! I’ve had another report regarding your midnight rituals.”

Zola
“I thought we were past that!”

Corrin
“As did I! Now I come to find out you’ve been summoning Faceless right under our noses?!”

Zola
“Hrk! S-Says who?! This is all a misunderstanding!”

Corrin
“Perhaps I should have listened to Saizo after all. How foolish I’ve been.”

Zola
“Wait! I can explain!”

Corrin
“The time for explanations is past, Zola. This was the final straw.”

Zola
“It was because of my bad back!”

Corrin
“Don’t try to play on my sympathy. Your dishonesty has done enough damage.”

Zola
“Cross my heart and hope to…well, not die, certainly.

“Even with the brace, there are some day-to-day activities that are a real pain in the tuchus to do on my own. Lifting anything heavy, for example.

“No one here trusts me enough to lend a hand when I ask. I’m not blaming them, mind. But if I can’t get help the conventional way, the only thing I could think of was to get it in an unconventional way.”

Corrin
“If that’s true, why not bring it to my attention sooner?”

Zola
“Because then you would have ordered someone to do it! Or, heaven forbid, tried to do it yourself. You can’t change hearts with an order or a wave of the hand, though. If only.

“The others would have ended up resenting me even more than they already do. And if you started helping, they’d accuse me of putting you under some sort of charm, I’m sure. The Faceless don’t ask questions. They can’t be inconvenienced or hold grudges. And with my magic masking their appearances in camp, no one had to be any the wiser.”

Corrin
“Zola…”

Zola
“I know, I know. These are explanations, not excuses. I’ll stop summoning them, I swear. And I’ll accept whatever punishment you deem fit. Err, hopefully within reason. But you’ve always been the voice of clemency around here.”

Corrin
“...very well. Then, I sentence you-”

Zola
“Urp!”

Corrin
“-to kitchen duty until further notice.”

Zola
“N-Now, please! Let’s be civil!

“...did you say ‘kitchen duty’?”

Corrin
“Yes. You won’t have to do any heavy lifting and will have time working alongside everyone else in turn. Once they get to know you a little better, I’m sure they’ll learn to put their prejudices aside. They did for me.”

Zola
“M-My liege…”

Corrin
“Please, no titles. Just ‘Corrin’ is fine.”

Zola
“Er, Corrin… I…don’t know what to say. ‘Thank you’ doesn’t quite cut it.”

Corrin
“Show me your thanks and sincerity by giving socializing with the others an honest go. And promise you’ll tell me if you require accommodations or are having trouble with anybody in camp. I’m here to serve my people - all of my people - as thoroughly as they serve me.”

Zola
“Absolutely! You have my word. Thank you…Corrin.”