I wrote this ages ago, and I've just finally decided now that it's up to par to archive. I have no idea why I wrote it, but something about Glenn's deeply rootedhatred of Valtar and his reaction on seeing him for the first time begged me to be ficced, I suppose. Feedback appreachiated.

As a note, I wrote it before I'd ever played Eirik route, where you find out that Glenn, Valtar, and Duessel were all generals together ... so ... yeah. You don't find that stuff out in Ephraim mode. Surprise, surprise, I played Ephraim mode first. Call it AU?

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For the Motherland

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It was a dark, dark day, when a man loved his country and trusted his king so much that he would willingly go against what he knew was right to obey orders he didn't even understand.

Glenn fastened his leather gloves tightly onto his hands. His entire body was fixed in a composed, even stance, showing his usual confidence, but a close watcher could see that his fingers were trembling, and his breath was coming out shortly. A series of events that he did not understand had sent him here, and in such a whirl, his mind was only now beginning to compute exactly what was happening. He stood far enough from the troops placed under his command that he could at least be thankful they could not notice his discomfort.

"You don't seem like you're enjoying this half as much as you should be," his partner leered in his direction. Glenn clenched his teeth. "I think that you should be quite glad about the way that this is all turning out. After all, you are following your great Emperor's orders. Isn't he always correct? Wouldn't you follow him to death? You are, after all ... so very devoted, are you not?"

Glenn averted his eyes from the imposing, sickly contorted face of the man he stood beside. He still greatly outranked Valtar -- in fact, he had barely ever seen him, before these last several days -- but there was something in the man's voice that told Glenn very plainly who was in change. How was it, that a low ranking military official could make a General of Grado squirm, so?

He shook his head to himself. Too much had happened in the past several days that did not make sense for him to question what was happening now. Nothing made sense. Nothing felt right. What the hell was going on?

"Upon your signal, it will all fall." Valtar gestured a gloved hand to the small village. Glenn could see the common people going about their business, thinking nothing of Grado forces going through Lunes territory, even armed as they were. After all, Grado was a peaceful land, and it and Lunes were closely allied. There was no reason for them to suspect anything. Glenn imagined his father and mother on their farm. His stomach clenched.

Valtar chuckled. "The men will charge, weapons outstretched. They will fall upon the people. And all of them will scream, and cry, and die cursing the Empire like the miserable, meaningless lives they are. And it will all be on your command. I wonder how you feel about that? Do you doubt your Emperor?"

The Dragon Knight remained as stone-faced as possible, doing his best not to give into Valtar's obvious taunting. His heart pounded. What the hell was going on, here?

"Of course you know, that His Excellency Lord Vigald is a man of high moral calibre and kind heart." Valtar examined the fingertips of his gloves closely. "He would never suddenly turn on his close allies for no reason like this. Does that not make you wonder, Glenn? The lands of Hayden and Fardo, this dearest friends ... why on earth would he do something like that?"

Glenn's arm trembled as he clenched his fist as hard as he could. "I don't know." he responded, shortly. "His Majesty's motives --"

"Seem all but insane, don't they? Yes, I'd tend to agree. Of course, not that I mind." Valtar chuckled. "Gentle King Vigald, attacking a tiny Lunesian village with a disturbingly large force of men. Charming, isn't it?"

Glenn whipped his head around and stared at Valtar. "You -- you -- what do you know?" he demanded. "Why do you taunt me like this? Why do I let you? What the hell is going on in Grado?"

Valtar's lips parted in a pleased grin and he raised a hand to gently carress Glenn's cheek, his voice dropping to the most heady, velvety caress. "You'll find out soon enough, dear Glenn, I can almost certainly assure you."

Glenn recoiled from his touch as if it burned. He narrowed his eyes. "You ..."

Valtar grinned and stepped even closer. "I am the future of Grado, darling Glenn. Not those of your breed, those like sickly, skinny General Seraina, or virtuous to a fault General Dussel, or old Bishop MacGregor. People like me. A pleasant thought, mn?"

Glenn glared fiercely at the other man. "I -- I won't let that happen. Answer my questions."

"Can you do it? Can you force yourself, Glenn, to give that order, and hear innocents screaming? I've heard you and your brother were poor peasants, once. Can you hear the screams, and imagine your family there? My, that would be amusing."

"Answer me, damn you!"

Valtar leaned in so closely, Glenn could feel the Wyvern Knight's breath on his lips. "I don't think that you can."

"General Glenn. We're awaiting your order, sir."

Glenn stepped away from Valtar, his mind and heart racing.

"We were just talking about that, actually." Valtar sneered, stepping back and taking on his usual, less pleasant face.

The Dragon Master opened his mouth to say something, but found that no sound came out.

"General."

Valtar gave that characteristic chuckle of his. "Something wrong, General? Give the order."

"General. Please."

"Come now, Glenn." that silky smooth, quiet voice pushed the handsome general over the edge.

"Charge at will." Glenn heard his voice say.

The soldier saluted and stepped away.

"Good man." Valtar smirked.

The river ran with blood and ashes within the hour. Glenn still had more questions than answers. Only now, his hands were tainted with blood.

"Its a dark, dark day, when a man loves his country so much and trusts his king so much that he would willingly go against what he knew was right to obey orders he didn't even understand." Glenn murmered, the fire burning the images into his mind.

This was the new face of Grado.

He felt sick.