Title: Halfbreed
Author: DaystarsMom
Rating: PG
Pairings: ConradxJulia; maybe ConradxYozak if you squint really hard
Disclaimer: Good grief, it's fanfiction. Of course it's Not Mine. Do people really need to be told this?

Notes: I'm expecting this to be 6 or 7 chapters. It's basically a companion piece to Episode 26, following Conrad from just post-Lutenberg through Yuri's first day in Shin Makoku. So there are enormous spoilers for Episode 26. Also spoilers for the Boston Red Sox 1988-89 seasons in later chapters.

Onward.

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Halfbreed

By DaystarsMom

Chapter 1: Aftermath

The field infirmary smelled of blood, sweat, and herbs. Even in the dim light and with one eye covered in bandages, Conrart could see that more than half of the beds were empty. Most of the time, he remembered not to look. He needed no reminder of the men he had lost at Lutenberg; they haunted his dreams already. His men; his failure. He could have done more, surely. To lead his regiment into battle without training, without proper weapons or armor, without a medical unit standing by...

He turned his head on the thin pillow, welcoming the pain the movement caused. Any distraction was welcome, even pain. Without distractions, thoughts of medical units might lead to thoughts of that other loss, the one that would, alone, have been unbearable under any circumstances.

Julia.

They didn't know he knew she was dead. He had been out cold when at last Yozak hauled him into a temporary medical station far behind the lines, and he had remained unconscious for most of the time the healers spent desperately trying to save his life. But some evil fortune had roused him just when the messenger arrived with the bad news of Lord Brischella's disastrous failure on the battlefield, and the worse news from the medical unit attached to the area – Lady Suzanna Julia Von Wincott overextended herself healing the survivors, and died. They didn't know he'd heard. And they couldn't know that the hushed words had been merely a confirmation for him, not a surprise. Long before the messenger arrived, Conrart had known that it was she, not he, who would not return alive from these battles.

Because he had been the one who'd killed her.

His hand crept up to close around the blue pendant she had given him the night before he left. "To bring you luck and protect you," she had said, but it was Julia who had been his luck and Julia who had protected him at the cost of her own life. He'd felt her presence and her healing power radiating from the pendant during the hours – or was it days? – of the nightmarish trek to safety that had followed Lutenberg. She had supported and sustained him, holding his death at bay despite the other demands on her abilities. And then, just before he and Yozak had stumbled into the village at last, he'd felt one final gentle pulse of healing, and afterwards...nothing. She had given the last of her power, the last of her strength, to keep him alive, and doing it had destroyed her.

Now, more often than not, he wanted to follow her into death. It would not be difficult. His wounds were terrible, and healing slowly. He only had to stop holding on to life, and he would slip away. All that kept him from doing so was the impossibility of wasting Julia's sacrifice. She had wanted him to live; very well, he would live, though there was no joy for him in doing so. Stubbornly, he clung to life, while the healers worked and debated and eventually returned him to Covenant Castle for better care than a field hospital could provide.

Shortly after they removed the bandages covering his left eye, Gisela told him of Julia's death. Conrart listened with distant politeness, then sat staring at the blue pendant for a long time. Part of him wanted to throw it away, or better yet hammer into powder the link that had allowed Julia to throw her life away for a worthless half-human who couldn't even keep his own men alive. But it was all he had of her, and all he ever would have now, and he could not give it up.

By then, it was too late to slide easily into death merely by letting go of life, though he was by no means fully healed. Sometimes, he found himself wishing he had given up while he had the chance. The prospect of continuing on alone for perhaps another three or four hundred years chilled him to the bone. If Julia were alive, even belonging to someone else, he could have borne it, but a future without her anywhere in it was too terrible for him to contemplate. Since the past was too painful to remember and the present was filled with grief and unpleasant reminders, he spent most of his time trying not to think at all.

Then Yozak came to visit. One glance as the door opened was enough to tell Conrart why his friend and subordinate had not come sooner. A heavy cast covered Yozak's left arm all the way to the fingertips. Bandages swathed most of his right arm, and wrapped his head as well. Conrart looked away quickly, knowing that there were more bandages under the loose tunic. He braced himself for the inevitable reproaches. He was, after all, the incompetent commander responsible for Yozak's injuries, as well as the deaths of so many of their companions.

But Yozak surprised him. His first words were not criticism or blame, but gossip about Adelbert Von Grantz. Still, Conrart couldn't look at him. He felt Yozak's eyes on him, and waited. What came next was a reproach of sorts, but not the one he had been expecting.

"Don't you go checking out on me," Yozak told him with a hint of his normal ebullience. "I didn't drag you all the way from the battlefield for you to die now."

Conrart's eyes widened, and he looked up at last, to see the door close behind his friend. As he sat frozen, the door opened, and Yozak stuck his head in once more. "Don't you forget, my friend – there are people who would mourn your death." Yozak winked almost cheerfully, then left for real.

Conrart stared blindly at the closed door. How could Yozak worry about him, after the way he'd failed at Lutenberg? For that had been worry, Yozak-style; they'd known each other long enough for Conrart to recognize his friend's peculiar way of expressing concern. He pondered the question for hours, so distracted that he ate more of his evening meal than usual. This prompted a pleased smile from the orderly who came to remove the tray. Seeing the smile, Conrart wondered if, perhaps, there were others who were genuinely concerned for his well-being.

Yozak came again the next day, and the day after, each time staying a little longer, though all he talked of was castle gossip. It didn't seem to bother him that Conrart seldom responded, and then only in monosyllables. Little by little, the cheerful irrelevancies drew Conrart out of his numb misery, until finally he interrupted Yozak in mid-sentence.

"Yozak, why in Shinou's name would I care what the odds are in the maids' betting pool on Gwendal's love life?"

"I thought you might want to put some money in," Yozak replied unrepentantly. "Since if anyone is in a good position to get inside information on the subject, you are."

Even a chuckle still made his injured ribs ache. "If you think Gwendal consults me about his love life, you're far off. Why are the maids betting on such a thing, anyway?"

"Because betting on your mother's love life is too easy?"

Conrart choked back a laugh, winced, and threw Yozak a reproachful look. Yozak merely grinned; then, in a softer tone, he added, "Welcome back, Captain."

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Next: Chapter 2: The Lion of Lutenberg