She supposed it was inevitable that she would wind up here. Once a Knight of Seiros, patrolling the halls above Garreg Mach, Shamir now found herself as a prisoner of those very same Knights, now operating within the Faerghus capital, Fhirdiad. Held in the dungeon below the palace, Shamir couldn’t do much to escape. Though part of her didn’t want to because she knew who would be coming down to face her, interrogate her, and take the chance to talk with her...

The pale-skinned sniper, the legendary assassin and archer, Shamir was renowned for her ability at not getting caught. There were very few, save for the one who did, who would ever stand a chance to capture her. And, though once loyal to the Knights of Seiros, she was always a mercenary at heart. Joining the professor, Byleth, and her old students, now part of the Adrestian Empire, just seemed a common sense decision. After all, Shamir travelled where her job would take her. And right now, her job was to battle alongside Byleth, a former fellow mercenary herself, and help do away with the corruption of nobility and Crests that plagued Fodlan.

Standing tall, lean, and athletic, Shamir had short, dark blue hair with long bangs shaped to the left side of her pretty face. Sharp, intense, purple eyes studied the stone walls around her. Shamir was still dressed in her battle attire; a turquoise jacket, long in the back with sleeves rolled up to the elbow, a steel pauldron on her left shoulder, black shirt and corset with a low cut neckline, black gloves, an ornamental choker necklace coloured black and silver, tight black trousers, and long, heeled, turquoise boots.

There was little she could do now as her captor had seen fit to restrain Shamir to make sure she stayed put inside her cell. Truth was, Shamir couldn’t blame her for doing it. She did know Shamir very well, after all, and the legendary assassin was well known for getting out of tough situations like this. Fortunately for her captor, her present situation made that very difficult.

Steel manacles locked Shamir’s wrists behind her back. Thick rope wound around her arms and torso, from shoulders to elbows, pinning her arms tightly in place. More rope kept her legs restrained from above the knees to her upper thighs and then from below the knees to her ankles. Adding to that, though it may have been a bit out of spite than necessity, a tough leather panel was strapped on over Shamir’s mouth, holding in a cloth that filled her mouth and made her unable to speak.

Shamir put up a bit of a fight with her bonds, twisting this way and that, squirming, writhing, trying whatever she could to get anything loose. But her captor had tied her too tightly for any hope of escape. So, for the most part, Shamir conserved her energy. Because she knew her captor would be coming to speak with her. That would be when she would seize her opportunity. For as much as the woman knew Shamir, she knew the woman just as well.

Thunder Catherine, they still called her. A legend, practically a myth, devoted wholeheartedly to Archbishop Rhea and the Knights of Seiros. With her crest of Charon, wielding the mighty blade Thunderbrand, Catherine had once called herself Shamir’s partner. There was once a time the two were inseparable and there was, perhaps, something even beyond a firm friendship boiling just beneath the surface... until Shamir left, anyway.

Both of them knew there was a strong chance they would find themselves on opposite sides. Both women knew that there may come a day their partnership would end on the battlefield, fighting each other to the death. That day may yet still be upon them but, for now, Catherine seemed interested in what Shamir knew of the Empire and their plans marching out from the old, ruined Garreg Mach monastery.

Catherine looked as formidable, dashing and legendary as the many stories about her claimed. Bright blonde hair, tied back in a short ponytail, glimmering blue eyes, perfectly tanned skin, and standing taller than most, she could strike fear into the hearts of any unlucky enough to face her in battle.

She dressed the part of a knight, too. Pieces of armour plating covered her knees, protected her leather gauntlets, guarded each hip, and covered her shoulders in pauldrons. These, in turn, met the steel cuirass covering her chest and back. Underneath all this metal, Catherine wore a uniform of white and red with loose fitting sleeves, a cape drifting off her right shoulder, a long cloak of sorts covering her right leg, tight fitting trousers, and tall leather boots.

With the glowing sword at her hip, wielded with an unmatched, master’s hand, not even Shamir stood a chance when Catherine got the drop on her. Now sitting in a cell as the bound and gagged prisoner of Thunder Catherine, Shamir could only wait for her captor’s return.

She always heard Catherine before she saw her. Shamir smirked beneath her gag. Sill can’t hide those clunky steps she thought to herself.

The sound of clanking armour, heavy boots, and a stride of purpose greeted her ears and Catherine descended the steps alone, stopping in front of Shamir’s cell. Shamir could tell, just by the way Catherine held her eyes, that the knight was terribly conflicted. But the feeling quickly passed as she pulled the barred door open and stepped into the dimly lit cell, kneeling down to face her old partner.

“We’re lucky, you know,” Catherine said. “We’re lucky I was here. Otherwise there would be no one in this cell and a pile of dead bodies to explain to Rhea...”

“Mmrrpphh...” Shamir said, unable to form words from behind her gag.

“Never thought you’d get caught. But, hey, here’s a consolation prize. Nobody but me could do it. You’ve still got it. Mostly.”

Catherine let out a long sigh, sitting down on the floor in front of her bound captive.

“This... this isn’t easy for me, you know...”

“Hmmmppphh...”

The two met eyes for a second but Catherine looked away. “Don’t look at me like that, Shamir. That admiration...”

Shamir chuckled into her gag. You’re not wrong. But don’t flatter yourself too much...she thought.

“I’m going to take that gag off. And then I want to hear some answers. I know you won’t exactly make this easy on me but, well, here goes anyway...”

Catherine reached behind Shamir’s head and unbuckled the leather panel, helping her spit out the cloth in her mouth. She set those both aside for the time being and looked to Shamir, who still remained silent.

“Why’d you do it, Shamir?”

Shamir chuckled, bemused. “Do what?”

“You know what I mean. You turned your back on us. On Lady Rhea. On me...”

“I’m a mercenary. You always knew this was a possibility,” Shamir said.

“But I thought we... you were happy with us.”

“It was fine,” Shamir said. “Another job came up. That’s it.”

“So that’s all it was for you? Just another job!? What happened to having each other’s back, Shamir!?”

“You never needed that,” Shamir said. “You’re ‘Thunder Catherine.’ You just want me to bow to Rhea like you do.”

“That’s Lady Rhea to you! And why shouldn’t you!? She did everything for us! Gave us everything!”

Shamir let out a long breath. “You remember the way we used to talk. You said it yourself. Between me and Rhea, you’d choose Rhea. And between you and me... I’d choose me. So I did. That’s all we did, Catherine. I suppose this was always going to happen.”

“It didn’t have to be this way. If that damn Edelgard hadn’t started this war... and that professor had never come along... all this betrayal never should have happened!”

Shamir shrugged into her bonds. “Life’s not fair.”

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

Shamir said nothing more. Catherine sighed again.

“Fine... I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ll tell me what Emperor Edelgard is planning? Or how she plans to deploy the old professor in battle?”

“How would I know?”

“You’re on their side,” Catherine said.

“They don’t tell me those things,” Shamir answered, simply.

“So they don’t fill you in on any strategies when they put you into battle?”

“They do. But I don’t know or care about any of their bigger plans. I just want to end the war like everyone else.”

Catherine let out another long sigh. “Guess this thing goes back on then,” she said. She stuffed the cloth into Shamir’s mouth, who didn’t bother fighting, and strapped the leather panel back into place. Just as she finished, however, she felt something small and sharp jab into her leg.

When she looked down, she saw that Shamir was close enough, and flexible enough, to bring her shackled hands forward just enough and jab a small needle laced with poison into her leg. Knowing Shamir, and their history, the poison wouldn’t be lethal. But it would be enough to make her pass out quickly as soon as it entered her bloodstream.

As she thought, Catherine immediately began to feel lightheaded as Shamir pulled the needle back out again.

“Clever... kept that... hidden... did you?”

“Hmmmpphh,” Shamir said.

“Should have... expected... as... much...”

Shamir just nodded.

“Guess we’ll... swap... soon... eh?”

Shamir nodded again.

“Damn... I was... right. You’ve... still... got...”

Catherine couldn’t finish her sentence as the poison took over, paralyzing her muscles and shutting down her brain, putting her into a deep sleep. Laying next to Shamir, the shackle keys somewhere on her belt, it was only a matter of time before captor and captive changed roles.

It took some flexible shuffling but Shamir managed to get her shackled hands facing the right way, feeling around on Catherine’s belt for the keys to her shackles. It took her a frustratingly long time but Shamir was endlessly patient. And Catherine would be out for the better part of an hour or more so Shamir had time.

Finally, she found what she was looking for, getting hold of the keys. Peeling off her gloves, giving her just a bit more dexterity to work with the keys, it took another while for her to find the keyhole on the shackles. When she finally did, they popped open and her wrists were free to untie the ropes binding the rest of her body and remove the gag that stifled her speech.

Taking a moment to stretch, Shamir wasted no time getting to work on her former partner.

...

Finishing binding the great Thunder Catherine, Shamir propped her against the stone wall, sitting upward, and sat across from her against the other wall, waiting. Though it was the better tactical decision to leave right then, this was a special circumstance for her. She knew Catherine would want to see her one last time. And she had a simple message to deliver.

Now bound and gagged the exact same way as Shamir had once been, it took Catherine another while still to open her eyes. Her former partner kept her sharp eyes on Thunder Catherine, setting Thunderbrand against the wall beside her.

Finally, Catherine’s eyes flitted open and she groaned from the swimming sensation in her head as she came to. The poison was still making its way out of her system...

“Mmmmppphhh....”

“You’re awake,” Shamir stated, in her typical matter-of-fact tone.

“Hmmpphh?”

Shamir quickly reached forward, taking something from a pouch at her belt, and waved it under Catherine’s nose. The knight coughed a bit before her eyes shot open and she sat forward, realizing her limbs weren’t responding...

“Mmmppphh...” she said, rolling her eyes.

“You knew this was coming,” Shamir said. “Soon as you felt the poison.”

“Mmmnt wmmphmnt lmmphmmlll...”

Shamir managed to parse the last word. “Lethal? No. No way it’s ending between us like that. No honour in that.”

Catherine raised an eyebrow.

“I’m only still here because I needed to tell you one thing.”

Shamir sat up and crossed the room, kneeling down to meet her captor-turned-captive’s eyes.

“You know how this ends. You. Me. On the battlefield. One on one. Till one dies.”

Catherine, a mix of sadness and anger in her eyes, simply nodded to her one-time partner. Shamir stood up and kicked Thunderbrand toward Thunder Catherine.

“You can let yourself out. Or someone will find you. Either way, I’m going back to Garreg Mach. You ever feel like ending this thing early... you know where to find me.”

Feeling the same twinge of sadness and anger that her old partner had felt, Shamir swiftly left the cell, becoming as a shadow once more. No one would see her leave, recover her weapons, and rejoin her current employers in the Empire. And the War would go on as it had.

Catherine, in the meantime, struggled with her restraints: rope, shackles, and gag, in an attempt to free herself. She knew she would be free eventually. And then, when she was, she would be sure to stay by Lady Rhea’s side until this war saw its end. No matter what.