Chapter Text
Linhardt, Heir of House Hevring — Reverie
Linhardt was always in pursuit of answers. Coming to the conclusion that he actually liked you shouldn't have surprised him, but it still did. And you like him back, which surprised him even more. He didn't need research to prove you were a good match, but he was glad his father did his.
"This is a state of grace.
This is the worthwhile fight.
Love is a ruthless game
unless you play it good and right.
These are the hands of fate.
You're my Achilles heel.
This is the golden age of
something good and right and real."
☆
"Won't you come to take me home?
Help me find the brighter road.
Lost my way some time ago.
It ain’t gone, it ain’t gone."
There was a little girl in your father's office.
Only she wasn't a girl. It was a boy with pretty hair kept in a neat silk ribbon.
He was engrossed in one of your father's many books— the seventh volume of Marvels of Norzelia, the cover read— something about the Aesfrosti Archives in the Duchy of Aesfrost somewhere in faraway Norzelia. He paid no mind to your approach, for he was silently confident that you would make yourself known to him.
"Hello," you started. True enough, his deep blue eyes looked up from whatever it was he was reading and paid close attention to you.
"Hello," he replied. "Do you happen to… have a crest?"
Unfortunately, you didn't, but that didn't extinguish his interest in you at all.
Your first meeting with the heir of House Hevring in your father's office was the start of many visits orchestrated by your parents, particularly your father and Count Waldemar von Hevring, in hopes you two would form a friendship that can be escalated into a betrothal.
Linhardt found you a fascinating specimen— a well-read girl, but not exactly the scholarly type, and you weren't afraid to put in the work when required, especially when you were looking for answers. You pored over books and tomes and had an excellent aptitude for magic and the arcane arts, but you didn't neglect your physical training. You balanced things well and it intrigued him, so much that he always wanted to be around you to see what else you can do.
"Are you sure you don't have a crest?" He would ask you, following you to your family's wheat fields with ink and parchment in hand. "There are times when tests fail to give the correct—"
"I'm a hundred per cent sure, Linhardt," you would reply with a smile, your shared books in hand as you sat down on your usual spot overlooking Goulding fields. "Definitely crestless."
You read a lot of books together. And even though Linhardt found exerting effort so exhausting, he still followed you into your family's gardens whenever you had to water your mother's marigolds. As much as your parents found the time you spent endearing, the boy's father wasn't at all pleased with the way his son made himself perfectly at home with your family.
"You don't have to coddle him at all. Let him pull his weight while he's here," Count Hevring often told you whenever his son insisted on extending his stay in Goulding. However, he still took his son's interest in a more positive way. It didn't matter anymore whether it was just some flight of fancy. You influenced Linhardt in many ways he couldn't, and that was enough proof of your dependability.
Count Hevring was certain you would be good for his son. He only hoped Linhardt would have the same effect on you.
With your betrothal now an official decree, there was little left to explain to people why you were mostly together during your short but sweet stay at the Officers Academy. Mostly, because research and reading still occupied a bulk of his time then. Being the Black Eagle House's designated healers during your missions meant covering for each other's shortcomings. No matter how skilled your classmates were, open wounds were open wounds and Linhardt hated bloody open wounds. Whatever he grisly thing he couldn't cover, you would make up for. Whatever you fell short of, he'd make sure to compensate as you would.
Your latest mission saw the rescue of Baron Ochs's missing daughter Monica, who was found by your new mercenary friend in the bandits' hideout. Her reappearance opened a can of worms that needed to be cleaned out. And unsettling as it was, the Black Eagles could only press forward into the truth you long sought, about who was truly running the show in Enbarr.
When Edelgard sought your assistance to join her and a select number of your classmates in taking back the Imperial Palace, you agreed not just as a friend, but as a future noble under her reign. However, you were left wondering why Linhardt and the other noble children weren't around. It was only later in the battle that you realised you were assisting the Imperial Princess in a coup against the regent and Duke Aegir.
How is this a coup again? It's really just Lady Edelgard taking back her home, you thought as you raced through the palace halls with Hubert and Petra.
"I see you're also one of Her Highness's allies," Came the most familiar calm voice of the Minister of Domestic Affairs, who has effectively blocked the Prime Minister's entry back to the palace. In his hand was a Steel Tome, his stance well-prepared for battle though he didn't relish in it. So he must be one of the nobles Hubert spoke of earlier. "Well met. Let us speak once this disorder has been settled."
It certainly didn't take long for your small military force to capture the Prime Minister, but the same couldn't be said for the regent, whose identity has been revealed as Thales, the ringleader of those who slither in the dark.
Edelgard has expressed her need for allies she can trust and you didn't want to make her ask twice. She was glad to know that both you and Linhardt have pledged your allegiance to her cause despite his reluctance.
"I expect great things from you, my future Baron Goulding. I suppose Linhardt will have no choice but to follow you into the fray."
"Lin would have joined you regardless, my lady."
"You make it easier for him to be here, and for that, I thank you."
— ☆ —
Every skirmish won meant a more solid foothold against the Kingdom and the Church of Seiros, and the battles were fiercer the deeper the Imperial Army went into foreign territory. As one of the army's mainstay healers, you had to follow the Emperor in the vanguard while your fiancé assisted in healing members of the rear guard. Your strategic positioning in battles meant you were often apart, and Linhardt has resorted to sleeping in your tent in between clashes, fishing, and his never-ending pursuit of knowledge.
In fact, he spent so much of his downtime in your own tent that people who were looking for him would come to you first before anywhere else. Hubert even commented that they would be happy to hold a simple ceremony for you two just to validate Linhardt's occupation of your tent. He almost took up that offer, too.
After reclaiming Arianrhod from the King of Faerghus's last attack, the Imperial Army made its way back to Enbarr to recalibrate its strategy as the path to victory grows precariously narrow. Linhardt would have jumped on the opportunity for a well-earned break, but he disappeared as soon as you arrived, simply telling you he had something to look into while you were in the capital.
"I'm so close to a conclusion that I can almost taste it," he said before departing, leaving you wondering with the rest of the Black Eagles. He wasn't gone for long, though, for he was back when the alarm bells sounded the arrival of a deadly intruder, razing what should have been a moment of respite for everyone. Hubert was quick to give out orders, not once even leaving the Emperor's side as the others also gathered around her. The vanguard's strongest gave chase to the would-be assassin, whom you recognised as Shamir, a former member of the Knights of Seiros.
Blocking her path was none other than the Minister of Domestic Affairs. "Peace, good intruder! I assure you, I'm no fighter!"
Shamir's speed was maddening, and having the hard hitters come after her was useless when they couldn't even catch up to her. "Says the wolf in sheep's clothes. But sure. Whatever. Where's the Emperor?"
And against everyone's good judgement, Edelgard rushed out of the throne room to act as bait to draw out the rest of the enemy.
"No! Lady Edelgard—!" You tailed after her, the light magic you commanded clearing her way, only for the rest of her path to be blocked by a forbidding figure wielding an imposing weapon, one that glowed an ominous crimson.
Thunderbrand.
"It's brave of you to try and lure us out… But such courage will cost you your life!"
The Emperor parried the blow with her shield as best as she could. "Thunder Catherine?! It seems Rhea is not playing around."
Catherine, an elite of the Knights of Seiros, brandished her sword once more with the intent to kill Edelgard for certain. "No mercy to the Archbishop's enemies!"
And though you were no born fighter like her, you commanded light magic that sent her flying back and away from the Emperor. Something was different, you thought, as though every drop of blood in you was raging and rebelling, wanting to move on its own, wanting to take for yourself the sword that glowed a deathly glow.
The knight in white spat a mouthful of blood, raising her weapon to make herself known to you once more. She gave you a hard look with those blue eyes of hers, and there flashed what seemed to be a look of regret. "It's a shame you're with this despicable Empire. The heroic blood in your veins is wasted on them."
"You—!" Oh, you kind of wanted to cry. "No! Adrestia is my home, and I will not—!"
As you were about to cast another round of the devastating Abraxas, plumes of a familiar, gentle white magic surrounded you and the Emperor, and before you knew it, you were both warped back to the throne room. The rapid pulsing of blood in your ears slowly died out, only to be replaced by a deathly quiet and the unshakable feeling that something you buried deep in your mind had been forcefully exhumed.
"We can talk about her comment later," came Edelgard's calm voice, grounding you and banishing the quiver that danced around your body. How you overturned the attack and subdued the enemy, you hardly remembered. After being warped out of the fight against Thunder Catherine, you completely blacked out.
You woke up in Linhardt's tent at the encampment, the books that were once cluttered on the ground now neatly stacked up in a corner. He was reading something by his desk, only to look up from it when you called out to him. "Lin?…"
He placed the bundle of papers on his desk and grabbed a cup full of water before sitting down beside you on the edge of his bed. "Ah, you're awake. How are you feeling?"
You blinked a few more times to clear away your bleary vision before carefully sitting up. He slipped a hand under your torso to help straighten your back. He felt you freeze all of a sudden. "Wait— The Emperor?…"
"Her Majesty is well. She asked that you rest yourself until you feel like yourself again," he replied, gently raising the cup to your lips. "Drink. You've been out for half a day."
You obeyed, slowly tilting your head as you drained the cup of its contents, punctuating it with a refreshed sigh. For all his supposed indolence, Linhardt was an attentive fiancé who never left your side in case you woke up more disoriented than now.
"I rushed to where you were as soon as I heard that you were fighting one of the Knights of Seiros's elite warriors, but I arrived a bit too late since I only caught my father carrying you out of the throne room."
"Oh," you shook your head and buried your face in your hands. "And to think that happened while I was defending Lady Edelgard."
"Did something happen back then?"
Oh. You could feel your blood rush to your ears again, the tingling in your hands as though a thousand sewing needles have pierced you all at once. And the glow of that weapon was burned on your mind so intensely. It didn't take long for you to notice you were fidgeting under his covers.
"I know my interest in you isn't anything new at all, and I'm happy to know you aren't the least bit put off by it," Linhardt started, changing trajectory all of a sudden. You perked up at his remark, the same smile reflected on his face.
"Of course not. I can only hope you stay interested in me even at least until we get married," you said with a soft laugh. "I'll do whatever to stoke your curiosity, so please do stay interested in me."
"Oh, believe me when I say you are absolutely interesting," he replied, slowly turning to the bundle of papers on his desk. He managed a smile as you tilted your head in curiosity.
"Lin?"
"You're going to have to forgive me for this, but I looked into your family's history at the Imperial Civil Registry," he stated, gently taking your hands in his and prompting you to look up at him. "Apparently your mother, the Lady Goulding, is the daughter of a Kingdom noble."
"Well, yes," you replied, straightening your back a bit, feeling a crick in your spine all of a sudden. "My mother was the niece of the former Count Charon, a distant cousin of the current one, I believe."
"You know I'm rarely wrong about most of my assumptions. I first thought our mercenary friend's power was crest-related, but that wasn't the case at all. Still, there was some kind of power within them, so I was definitely right about it."
Linhardt was taking in your features. You were certain you had some bags under your eyes and your hair was absolutely unkempt, but the look in his eyes was not one of calculation, the gaze he used when observing specimens. It was tender, but still filled with the same kind of attentiveness he would give a newfound book.
"When I first sensed a kind of power from you when we were children, you immediately rebuffed my speculation and even dismissed it as pure diligence. I accepted that as a fact out of my great love for you, but something has bothered me for the longest time. I've always thought of your magic as uncannily powerful, so I suppose this discovery explains everything."
Even through his gloves, he felt your hands go cold in his. "I'm sorry, Lin… My parents—"
"Why did your parents find it necessary to hide the fact that you indeed possess a crest? A Minor Crest of Charon, no less. Were they afraid you would have to be brought back to the Kingdom because House Charon has no crest-bearing heir?" He stated one by one, running over the facts in his head. He gave your hands a reassuring squeeze when he sensed how tense you were beside him. "They don't have to worry about that at all. After all, you're already promised to me, the son of an Imperial Minister."
"Will I really have nothing to worry about? That woman we fought in the capital, the one with the Hero's Relic… She said that my—" You paused to swallow, to wash away the guilt of uttering such words. "Heroic blood was wasted here. Not that I care, really."
"You mean Thunder Catherine? She must have been able to sense your crest due to your blood ties. But I highly doubt that Count Charon will attempt to get in touch with you, let alone acknowledge you. From his standpoint, you're a daughter of an Imperial noble who knows nothing about the Kingdom's way of living," Linhardt raised his hand to your cheek with all the carefulness he would give an old and precious book. "And in the unlikely case it does happen, what makes them think I would let you go?"
"I don't know why this surprises me," you said with a small laugh, happily sinking into his caress. "I've always been your favourite subject. And now that your research has finally confirmed your long-standing theory, I suppose you feel rather accomplished now."
"For the record, I actually found out about it when I once overheard a conversation our fathers shared. For a researcher such as myself, I can't trust any word of mouth without any proof backing it up, even if it came from Baron Goulding himself."
"I apologise for not telling you. My parents forbade me from even speaking of it, let alone manifesting it and giving away my origins, not that it matters," you told him, your voice hushed to a whisper as you held his wrist in place. "Though there were times I was dangerously close to confessing the truth to you. You're someone I would be sharing my life with, so I always felt like you deserved to know about it."
"There's no need to apologise to me, my dear, sweet home," he leaned down and brushed a kiss on your other cheek, this show of affection not at all new to you. "However, there are still questions I have yet to find answers to. Like, for example, which crest our children will bear, or if they'll even possess one—"
Linhardt was always in pursuit of answers. Coming to the conclusion that he actually liked you shouldn't have surprised him, but it still did. And you like him back, which surprised him even more. He didn't need research to prove you were a good match, but he was glad his father did his.
"L-Lin!" You squeaked, abruptly pulling away from him. He planted his hands on the edge of his bed, preventing your escape.
"I suppose we have all the time in the world to find answers to those questions once the war is over," he lifted the covers, prompting you to scoot over and give him space. He didn't want any, though. "For now, I'll just reward myself with a nice, long nap with you as a pillow."