Chapter Text
Nader could safely say that not a lot surprised his prince, and even less caused him to actively loose his cool. The few times it did happen tended to either be very serious, or very funny. What happened about two weeks before Claude's ascension to the Almyran throne was a bit of both, and naturally it had everything to do with the woman he so fondly called 'Teach'.
Now, Nader was rather fond of Byleth Eisner. She'd taken the wild, idealistic son of his king and turned him into a brilliant warrior and prince, she was a demon in a fight and she was rather endearing on a personal level with just how much she obsessed over helping seemingly everyone she came across achieve their goals. It was no surprise to him that Claude had pined for her for the longest time, and how miserable being apart from her made him despite his efforts to hide it. She was the kind of woman who inspired lifelong loyalty; if he'd lived in Fodlan, he himself might well have been swept up in her wake. And now she was Queen of the whole continent; that seemed about right, as far as he was concerned.
Of course, if life were perfect, Claude would have been able to bring her here for the summer solstice festival and marry her on the spot. Naturally, politics wouldn't allow for it. At least the reasons were less ridiculous than the ones the boy's grandfather gave for refusing to treat the king's marriage as 'legal' (whatever that was supposed to mean. Marriage was an act of love, not legality.). Fodlan was a mess after the war that girl (Edge-something?) started, and someone had to keep everything from going down in flames.
That didn't mean he liked watching Claude mope about in the late hours of the day, staring longingly at the silver and purple ring she'd given him. It seemed like whenever he wasn't working like a man possessed to be recognized as king and smooth over lingering feelings to their western neighbors, he just couldn't ignore her absence. It didn't help that the Almyrans who had seen her fight were quite happy at the thought of her becoming queen, and frequently nagged him about when she would arrive and when the wedding would be.
If you'd told him just a few years ago that his people would be beside themselves with excitement at the thought of having a Fodlan-born queen, he would have laughed.
Anyway...Nader rarely saw Claude freak out over something. The kid had significant control over his emotions no matter the situation. Which made for an interesting experience when Judith walked into the king's chamber with a pair of letters.
“Oh, you're back early,” Claude said distractedly, sliding the ring back under his shirt and standing up. “Did something happen at the border?”
Judith scoffed. “Nothing like that. I just figured you'd want this as soon as possible.” She held out one of the letters to him.
Claude's eyes lit up when he recognized the handwriting. Judith laughed when he wordlessly snatched the letter from her and cracked the seal open with palpable enthusiasm. “My, my...that girl owns you, doesn't she?”
“Don't be like that,” He complained, pulling the letter out. “I haven't heard from her since she started traveling to Faerghus!”
“A whole two months ago,” Judith snarked, a light smile on her face; she'd been pleased as a cat with a canary when Claude told them he'd gotten engaged to his old professor. Byleth had impressed her quite a bit during the war, not just as a warrior but as a mediator as well. On top of that...she was just good for Claude, and her natural stoicism always melted around him.
Claude didn't even seem to notice the jab, much to Nader's amusement. He was totally absorbed in the words from his woman, even reading a few sentences out loud without seeming to notice. The demeanor change was so distinct from his usual self, it was no wonder enough of those Fodlan kids had noticed to start a betting ring. Clearly, whoever won was sitting pretty.
With that in mind, it was a little concerning when Claude, upon reaching a certain point, let out a strangled sound and staggered, backing into one of the room's pillars. A little alarmed by this, Nader made his way over and looked over the prince's shoulder at the letter, squinting to read the messy handwriting. “What's the matter, kiddo?”
“...I...” Claude stammered, his hands trembling. “...I'm...I'm...she's...”
Okay. What in the seventh hell? Nader frowned at the paper; even after these years, he still found Fodlan's written language a bit difficult to parse.
...Marianne says...it's a girl. I'm not certain, yet...feels right. ...three months...a bit early... Now the cravings have started. Woke Flayn in the dead of night asking for fish...was rather embarrassed when I woke again... Suddenly I'm craving spices in everything...she'll be born able to breathe fire at this rate... ...not showing much...can see it now, though... ...feel so silly...failed to notice something obvious again... Haven't thought of names...mother was Lilah...please tell me...
Ah...so nervous...wish I could see you...speak to your mother...Seteth is hovering something awful...
Miss you...
“What's going on?” Judith asked a little waspishly, tapping her foot. “Care to fill me in, boys?”
“The little lady's pregnant,” Nader responded with a nonchalant shrug, though internally he was quite gleeful. A baby! A little princess! And judging by when Claude left to return home, the girl would be born in the last month of winter, as the snow melted. A good omen indeed; he'd speak to the diviners anyway, but he was sure of it.
“What?!” The warrior woman strode across the room, plucking the letter from a still-shaky Claude's hand and reading it hurriedly. “That's...already?! And while she's in the frozen north?! That's not very ideal!” She gave the boy an exasperated look. “You really couldn't wait?”
“C'mon, have some pity will you?” Nader patted Claude's shoulder. “Did any of us expect the transition to be accepted so smoothly? I figured it would be two years before they could see each other again, at least.”
“So did I,” She acknowledged, “but really, at least she had the sense to announce the engagement, lest she suffer a massive storm of nonsense from the nobles. Not that I think it would have mattered, considering how popular she is, but in a time of change it's best to avoid such things...”
Nader laughed. “Ah, the warriors are going to be extra anxious for her arrival when this news breaks.” Children are a blessing from the gods, after all.
Claude finally seemed to snap out of his daze at that. He blinked a couple of times, pressing a hand against his mouth to muffle a weak laugh. His eyes were overly bright, like part of him wanted to cry and was at war with the rest of his feelings. Right when it seemed one side might win, clarity snapped back with a vengeance. He pushed himself off the pillar, stumbling a bit, then rushed right out of the room without saying a word.
“Excuse me, where do you think you're going?!” Judith asked, startled, taking off after him.
“I have to go back,” He responded, his tone faint like he was half asleep.
She grabbed him by the arm. “No, you have to stay until you've taken the bloody crown, or have you forgotten the entire reason you came here?”
“But I have to see her!” Claude protested heatedly. “She's – she's pregnant. With my...I have to – I need to –” He shuddered violently, his nails digging into his right hand. “I have to go back to her, I have to be there, I...”
Judith grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. “And you will.” She said firmly. “After you've been crowned, you'll get on your wyvern, take your honor guard and fly to her. You'll kneel in front of her and beg her forgiveness for your absence throughout her pregnancy, and the two of you will marry as soon as the church can organize it. Then you can discuss returning here for the festival, depending on her health at that time, for marrying before our gods.” She flicked his forehead; unlike every other time, he didn't even flinch. “You're panicking. Stop it.”
“She's right, kiddo.” Nader offered, once he caught up. “The little lady herself isn't begging you to come back immediately, just to send a rambling letter. That leaves you plenty of room to surprise her by actually showing up.”
Claude sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out. So those are tears, Nader thought when the telltale sparkle dripped down the boy's cheek. You've made him cry again, little lady. I bet you know how much that means to him.
Claude didn't cry; even as a small thing, beset by children thoughtlessly critical of his mixed blood, he was as stubborn as his mother. He wore his smile as both a sword and a shield, never giving so much as a hint that something, or someone, had gotten to him. It wasn't that he was never hurt by people's ignorance or hatred; he just loathed to acknowledge it.
Then, when he met this strange, powerful and yet (paradoxically) very gentle woman, he'd hid his feelings out of nerves. Surely even a kindhearted (if quiet and repressed) woman wouldn't seriously fall for the charms of a half-breed? As she'd grown steadily more in tune with her emotions, Claude's occasional letters to him had taken on an increasingly lovesick tone.
And then she'd vanished. If Claude had cried in those first few days, when he'd fruitlessly searched the ruined monastery and surrounding rivers for any sign of her, Nader hadn't been there to see it. What he did remember, though, was coming into Claude's office to find the new Duke of Reigan sitting with his head in his hands, the expensive forged bow she'd given him as a gift lying across his knees.
She's still alive, he'd whispered, tears running down his cheeks in spite of the hope in his voice. She has to be alive.
Nader hadn't said anything – certainly hadn't voiced his then-certain belief that if she'd been alive, she would have come back to him by now – instead gently placing his hands on the young man's shoulders to comfort him.
“C'mon, kiddo,” He said sympathetically. “There's no need for those now. Not until the girl is born.”
“T-That's...” Claude's proud voice broke; he frantically rubbed at his face, trying to keep the tears at bay. “Ah...why am I...I'm...I'm so happy, and yet...”
“You don't think people cry from happiness?” Judith fondly ruffled his hair. “Your lady is carrying your child, living proof of her love for you. Of course you're crying.” She sighed. “Come here, you silly boy.” She pulled him into a hug; she greatly disliked reminders that he was taller than her now, though he was in no condition to make such jokes in that moment.
Claude will seemed to crumble in that moment; a sob-wracked laugh escaped his lips, followed by another, and as he rested his forehead atop of his old friend's head the tears flowed fast and freely for the first time in many years.
He could never quite believe you were real for the longest time, Nader imagined saying to Byleth. In the beginning, he couldn't trust anyone not to turn on him when they realized who he was. That's why he and the Fodlan children weren't fast friends at first. Then you came along and turned the whole damned world cockeyed. Nothing about him fazed you, and you were as quick to defend him as you were to box him 'round the ears for his antics. It's why it took him so long to tell you where he came from, and why he nearly screwed up confessing to you. He was afraid of loosing something he'd never find again, even if he looked for a hundred lifetimes.
Heh. It was a decent speech, for an inelegant man like himself. Maybe he'd save it for the festival wedding. Someone should hold down the fort here while Claude rushed off, after all.
It would be a good day.
+ _ + _ + _ + _
I've had better days, Byleth thought bleakly, wrenching the Sword of the Creator out of the Demonic Beast's corpse just before it turned into shadows, and then into the broken figure of what was most likely a citizen of Enbarr. A horrible surge of dizziness hit her, and she stumbled back into Lysithea, who killed the brawler trying to approach her before dragging her back several feet.
“Why can't you wait in the castle?!” Her former student snarled in frustration.
“Because there aren't enough people who can wield a weapon here to hold the line,” Byleth rasped in response. Letting the sword unfurl, she whipped a Pegasus knight out of the sky with a single stroke, flinching as the rider shattered on the ground.
The army laying assault to her capital city was less than half the size of the one she could raise. Unfortunately, she'd been so preoccupied managing the crisis in Faerghus that events had conspired to ensure she couldn't bring her full force to bear against this rebellion. Rather, she'd had to rush back from the North with barely enough time to reach Deirdru before these rebels – the remnants of Edelgard's loyalists and scattered survivors of Shamballa – were on her doorstep. The rebels had taken great pains to conceal themselves up until this moment, hoping to take the heart of the new kingdom in a blitz attack and in doing so completely demoralize the fragile alliance she was building up.
Inside the city, she had Catherine, Seteth, Manuela, Lysithea, Linhardt, Hilda, Ashe and Leonie. Lorenz, Sylvain and Dorothea were frantically scrambling the men they had to come to her aid; Felix, Bernadetta, and Rodrigue were still up north, while Raphael, Ignatz, Flayn, Cyril and Shamir were holding Enbarr – and their respective armed forces had stayed with them.
Seteth had strongly opposed her fighting – hell, everyone had. Unfortunately, with just the city guard and a handful of former Alliance troops, it simply wasn't feasible for her and the Sword of the Creator to not be on the battlefield. As it was, Hilda, Lysithea and Seteth – armed with relics and a batallion of healers – were staying close, acting as her honor guard. Twice Hilda had been badly injured ensuring no one could reach her. Twice Seteth had nearly been shot down due to having to keep to an unfavorable position.
They simply didn't have enough men to rout the number of Demonic Beasts the rebels had brought with them. They were holding – had been for the entire night – but they couldn't break the deadlock. Something was going to give. Byleth hadn't been in a military scenario this bleak since Edelgard had invaded the monastery all those years ago.
Byleth had held up better than she had expected, truly. The Sword – Sothis's bones – and the power it held contributed much, of course, but for a woman four months pregnant, it was amazing she hadn't passed out or worse. Something to thank merging with Sothis's heart.
“The gate is going to come down if they throw another giant Demonic Beast at it,” Seteth said. “Your highness...”
“If I flee while this city burns,” Byleth bit out, “I doom my authority as queen for all time. I will not give up all I've fought for and won up until this moment to a pack of mad dogs and fanatics!” She wrapped one arm around her stomach. “I haven't exhausted my power yet. If the gate falls, I'll come up with another strategy.”
“How many more times can you do that?” Hilda gasped out, pulling back until she was standing in front of her. “You've never done that more than ten times in one day. What will happen if you push it too hard?”
She gritted her teeth. “I don't know,” She confessed, her stomach lurching as she spoke the words. Or was that her baby, feeling her distress? “We need a solution, and I don't know what else-”
She was cut off mid sentence by the thundering blare of a war horn.
In lieu of her heart stopping, shock laced burning heat through her entire body. She'd heard this before. The first time she'd heard it, she'd been helping Hilda defend her family's land. The second time, it had been when Almyran came as reinforcements crashed through the northern gates of Fort Mercius. She knew this sound...she could hardly believe she'd heard it, twisting to stare at her fellows to ensure it wasn't just in her head.
“Is that...what I think it is?” Linhardt said cautiously, staring across the ransacked street toward the gate.
The sharp cry of a wyvern answered him; Ashe flew down and landed slightly haphazardly on the street, his mount visibly exhausted from the long battle. “Your highness,” He greeted with a brilliant smile, “the siege is breaking. Almyra has come to support us!”
Byleth could barely breathe. “Claude?” She whispered, stunned.
Somehow Ashe must have heard her over the roaring cheers of civilians and the city watch, along with Leonie's cries, 'Rally to the gate! Rally to the king!', because he beamed at her. “He saved our hides; I was in a bit of trouble there,” He told her, rubbing his wyvern's neck affectionately. “He sent me back to make sure you're okay.”
Frankly, Byleth was certain the only thing that kept her from fainting was the random thought, I will not pass out like some maiden in a storybook!, interspersed with the wild chaos in her mind. How did he...when...she'd thought it would be years before she saw him again...
Hilda burst out laughing. “Reliable as ever, Claude! I bet he came running as soon as he read your last letter!”
“With a fresh new force here, Leonie can keep up the encirclement about the Demonic Beasts,” Seteth mused. “Without that brute force, the rebels have no chance. They're a poorly organized militia without a strong leader. With Claude here...” He bowed to her, then hefted his blessed lance. “I shall go out front, now, and lend my assistance. We have already won.” With that, his wyvern took to the sky.
Manuela chuckled, placing one hand on her lips. “You chose your husband well, Professor. To think he would come back in such a dashing fashion after disappearing so abruptly – it makes for a fine apology, does it not?”
Byleth was amazed to find herself laughing. She gave her head a shake and started walking down the street, Sword of the Creator hanging loosely at her side. “Walk with me, Ashe?” She asked. “It'll give Jace a break.”
“Of course, professor,” Ashe responded, giving his wyvern a final, decisive pet before sliding off and handing the reigns to his good friend. “Could you get him some water, Hilda? And some meat, if it's possible.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Hilda cackled. “I got it, now off you go!”
Byleth walked slowly at first, so Ashe could catch up...then she picked up the pace, as fast as she dared sprint considering she still had moments of lightheadedness. Down the streets she went, stepping over rubble and around healers tending to her wounded men, giving smiles and encouragement whenever they called out to her. There were losses, yes, and there would be time to mourn their bravery...but right now...right now...
As she approached the gate, the city watch forming a barrier between her and her goal, she saw the mid-sized Almyran force crash through the rebel army like wave breaking upon the beach. It was almost unfair to describe what happened as a battle – Almyra was strong, perhaps even stronger than most average Fodlan militia, and they had the advantage of surprise. As the dawn broke, casting golden rays across the sky, Demonic Beasts fell in droves, rebels either battered down or dashed beneath the claws of the wyvern riders. Her eyes found him instantly, the flashy style that always drove her damned insane a sight so wonderful she didn't have words for it. He shot a flying beast out of the sky with one hit from Failnaught then dipped down below her sight to crash through a mage battalion.
And he didn't want to learn how to shoot at close range, She thought, pressing one hand hard against her mouth. Oh...my prince, my Claude...you're here, you came back...
The fighting didn't last. Within a short time, all that was left on the open field outside of Deirdru was the Almyran army and the remnants of the rebels; those who had surrendered and those who were bleeding out in the grass.
She walked out of the gates, Ashe at her heels just in case. Something that surprised her was the friendly cries of recognition from various Almyran soldiers when they saw her emerge, 'queen Byleth' falling easily from their lips. Claude had said they'd taken a liking to her, but she hadn't thought...
Well, that train of thought didn't last when a pearl white wyvern floated down and came to a rest several yards away from her.
Claude slid off his mount, jumping to the grass moments before the great beast landed. He looked just as she remembered, except for one detail; the bronze and golden diadem gracing his crown. He was king now, and perhaps she should have greeted him with the grace and dignity of her station, but the thought ran out of her head the instant she laid eyes on him. The moment blurred, but she stumbled and ran across the field until she found herself swept up in his warm arms. He didn't say anything; perhaps he was just as overwhelmed as her, but he simply clasped her face his hands and gazed at her with pure love and adoration before tilting her into a dizzying kiss. She leaned into it desperately, trying to convey a thousand words and feelings in that moment, as he parted her lips with his tongue and sought out a small part of what they'd shared the night before he left. Her knees buckled; he clearly felt it, because he slid one arm down around her waist to support her and shifted her weight so she was leaning on him, all without breaking their kiss.
I waited, Byleth thought dreamily, running her tongue over his teeth. Can you see, father? I waited and he came back...
Claude let out a soft moan and reluctantly broke away from her, whispering, “You're alright?”
“We're alright,” She responded softly, pressing his palm lightly against the swell of her stomach. “We're alright, because of you...” She dug her fingers into his hair, kissing him roughly with a drunken neediness that might have embarrassed her before. “Oh my love, I thought it would be years...” She uttered between kisses.
“You thought I could stay away, knowing you were pregnant?” He let out a small, sweet laugh. “Sothis forbid it.” His grip on her tightened. “I'm never leaving you again. Never.”
Byleth shivered, and nipped at his lower lip with a pleased sigh. His contented response reminded her how much he liked that. “How did you even know...”
“That's easy,” Claude answered lightly, “I was already on my way when I heard about the rebel's army moving from some merchants. They couldn't keep complete secrecy, despite their best efforts. Knowing that, I just had to call over my people who were lingering around Holst's land. It was a happy accident, really.”
“You were already...” She let out a weak, amazed laugh when she realized it. “You left after you got my last letter, didn't you?”
“Almost immediately.” He corrected lightly. “I'll have to thank my friends for not letting me run off half cocked.” Pressing a final kiss against her mouth, he swung her up in his arms. “Now, let's get you to bed so you can rest. Overtaxing yourself could hurt the baby...”
“But I need to at least...” she struggled just a bit before surrendering. “The city...”
“I'll take care of it.” He lifted her up into Josephine's saddle, then climbed up behind her. “I am your fiance, after all.”
Byleth leaned into his chest and smiled. “That's true.” She flinched when Josephine's wings began to move. “This, ah, this might make me throw up.”
She felt him shrug. “I'll live. It'll be a slow flight, though. I promise.”