Chapter Text
At last, the final battle had come and the army that had united under Byleth and Dimitri was faced with a massive creature nobody of them could really believe had once been Edelgard.
She didn’t seem like a person anymore, just a raging, deformed beast hell-bent on destroying Dimitri and all he stood for.
For the first time in a long while Dorothea and Linhardt exchanged confused and anxious whispers upon her sight, agreed that it was probably better that Caspar, Bernadetta and all the others did not have to witness her having gone so far anymore.
Even Hubert would not have wanted this.
For once, Linhardt was glad Caspar was not with him. Her blind, monstrous wrath betrayed everything his friend had been fighting for. No matter how much it hurt, it was almost a relief he could not see this.
Linhardt was going to go through this for the both of them.
As per Byleth’s continued wish, Linhardt once again stayed behind the frontlines and had returned to preferring it this way as the army suddenly saw themselves confronted with enemies nobody had ever seen before, who were capable of wielding more powerful magic than even Hubert, covered vast spaces and commanded monsters on top of it. Whoever they were, they did everything in their power to keep the troops of Faerghus from reaching Edelgard.
Linhardt, Mercedes and Dorothea had no great problems dealing with the attacks of these mysterious people and provided distraction as Dimitri, Felix and the others made their charge towards the gigantic Edelgard.
It almost surprised Byleth that the Adrestrian Empress turned out to be alive after her monstrous form disappeared, considering how much of a beating she had taken.
That didn’t last for long, however, and the professor deeply regretted the fact that her final, defiant assault on Dimitri had sealed her fate after the future king had tried to reach out to her one last time.
They could have ended this less tragically.
In the end, all that was left were blood and tears.
Dorothea was devastated and even others that had never had anything to do with Edelgard, such as Mercedes or Cyril, prayed for her soul to finally find peace.
Returning to Garreg Mach kicked off the festivities over the reclaimed independence of Faerghus, which would surely continue once Dimitri made it back to the capital of Ferdhiad. Despite everyone’s exhaustion from the battle, the euphoria of victory kept them up all night long after their return, drowning in the high of their combined success.
After a while, Byleth found himself needing time to himself and some fresh air regardless. If people were not gathering around Dimitri, he was the one in the center of attention as the great commander and professor without whom this victory would have never been possible.
It just became too much, he wanted a clean head for a few minutes.
It was finally over. Peace was able to return to Fódlan, the people could live without fear, rebuild their lives.
It was the same for Byleth, suddenly it might be possible for him to live his life for himself instead of a church or a kingdom. What would he want to do with this life? Live it alone? No, possibly not.
But as he had stared at his parents’ combined grave before this final fight and remembered his mother’s ring, he had thought about one person he could imagine sharing his life with. But was it even right to think of him?
A little giggle echoed through the darkness.
“I knew I could find you here, professor.”
Byleth flew around to discover Linhardt was almost right in his face. He smiled as confidently as he hadn’t seen the other man smile for a long time.
It almost felt like an eternity.
The professor sighed a little, returned the smile. He hadn’t really wanted to see anyone right now, but Linhardt was an exception. In fact, he was very glad the mage had managed to predict him this well. His relaxing company was most welcome.
For a few minutes, they just stood under the Goddess Tower together in silence, listened to the winds of Fódlan dancing around them. Linhardt’s fingers brushed against Byleth’s lightly from time to time, and when the professor looked at him, his gaze seemed to trail off into the darkness of the night.
Maybe, Byleth thought, he was just misinterpreting things.
“Linhardt?”
The mage turned and finally gave his professor attention again and Byleth noticed how it seemed his sapphire eyes were regaining their sparks of life.
“Yes, professor?”
“I… How do you feel, now that it’s all over?”
The mage sighed a little, tucked some strands of hair back behind his ear that the wind had set loose. He flashed a bittersweet smile.
“It’s over, yes, it’s finally over. I never have to fight again. It still feels so unreal, I can hardly imagine we won’t set out for yet another battle tomorrow. But it’s great. I’m free now, we’re all free to do whatever we want, unbound from the chains of war. I know, I know, it’s not that simple, but… close.”
Byleth nodded, there was still a lot left to do, especially for people like Linhardt, whose entire family tradition revolved around their position in the Adrestian Empire, which was now headless and might soon fall into administrative chaos. As the only heir to his house and title, Linhardt might not actually be all that free after all.
And it was possible it could be similar for Byleth himself.
“What is it you want to do?”, he asked the other man.
Linhardt hesitated a moment to answer, cleared his throat. Just when Byleth had thought the other man had suddenly become unusually nervous, he returned to his normal self as if nothing had happened at all, looking at Byleth deeply.
“I want to keep napping and studying crests, of course – especially yours. No, actually, not just your crest...”
He reached into his jacket and pulled out something Byleth at first couldn’t make out in the darkness until it began sparkling under the moonlight in the same emerald green as the mage’s hair.
A ring.
Byleth couldn’t believe his eyes, something had to be wrong about this. Suddenly, the possibility that the way they had interacted over the past weeks had been interpreted by Linhardt in a certain way had seemingly become a reality.
He wasn’t sure if it was right, at least not just like that.
There was something he needed Linhardt to understand.
“I’m not Caspar.”
Linhardt began rolling the ring around in his palm, just for a moment. Quickly, however, he returned to holding it out to Byleth, smiling at him.
“I know. I absolutely do, believe me. You are you, and I’m glad about it. You’re the most unique and fascinating person I’ve ever met. I want to know more about you, to solve the mysteries that surround you. I want to study you forever, be with you. You’re simply… intoxicating.”
He stopped for a moment, sighed as his gaze fell for a bit, landed on the hand between them.
“Don’t get me wrong. Caspar is still with me, I can’t just forget him and what happened. But it’s alright, in a way, I just cannot let this take over my life anymore. This is not what we fought for. I fought because you promised you’d make sure I never have to fight again and you were right. I’m free now, free to do what I want and to be with who I want. And the one I want to be with is you, profe
–
–
Byleth
.”
Hearing Linhardt use his name for the first time made all the nervousness and doubts fall off him in one go. He was being serious, there was no possibility for a wrong interpretation anymore.
And there was only one thing left to do now.
When Byleth reached into one of the inner pockets of his coat, Linhardt was quite sure he knew what was going to happen. And yet, being presented with the sight of Byleth’s own ring managed to make his heart skip a beat.
He had always been aware of and thankful for Byleth’s continued deep support, it had been impossible to ignore how he made sure to spend more time with Linhardt in comparison to his other ex-students, especially after Caspar’s death, how consoling him had slowly turned into something more.
The mage didn’t want him to return these feelings just out of pity. But if he had already come here with a ring ready, this was surely not the case.
And there was this faint memory of Byleth’s words from just a few days ago. Seemed like they had been real after all and no half-dream while drifting into sleep.
All of this was real.
If someone had told him this only a few months ago, Linhardt would have probably laughed them off. In his mind at the time, the war would have ended at some point and he and Caspar would naturally end up in each other’s company again. Maybe he would have accompanied Caspar on his travels through Fódlan and beyond, napping together, studying, chronicling their bad-guy-beating exploits.
After all, he had always known Byleth would end the war somehow.
And he had at least been right about that part.
He was so glad.
“I want to be with you as well, Linhardt”, his former professor whispered, “I love you.”
For his reply, Linhardt picked up Byleth’s ring. It sparkled beautifully in the moonlight, though it was quite obviously a women’s ring.
But that was alright, the mage was sure he could make it fit around one of his fingers, they weren’t huge anyway. Long, yes, he was aware of that, but not very thick. The design did not matter either, as long as this ring came from Byleth. It was beautiful.
As he slid it onto one finger, Byleth picked up his ring and did the same.
They laid their ringed hands onto one another’s, Linhardt noticing that while Byleth’s was still fairly slender, it was a little bigger than his own overall. And so warm.
How could anyone without a heartbeat feel so wonderfully warm?
One day, he might solve the mystery that was Byleth’s life, but if he was true to himself, Linhardt found that this could still wait for a long, long time. He just wanted to stay with him, talk to him, sleep next to him, be held by him, stay like this
–
always.
It was what Caspar would have wanted.
He would want him to move on from these days of sorrow.
He’d want him to be happy.
Their fingers intertwined and Linhardt moved closer to his commander, the latter noticing the knot that had begun to form in his throat over the course of the last few minutes. Extreme emotions were still too few and far between for him to have experienced all of them, the knot in combination with a raising but not entirely unpleasant warmth in his stomach made his head incredibly light.
It only got worse as Linhardt looked at him, confident smile on his face.
And what a smile it was.
There also seemed to be a bit of a blush on the man’s cheeks.
“I… knew you would take the ring, I’m glad I wasn’t wrong.”
Byleth inhaled sharply at the sight of Linhardt’s growing smile, until he managed to return it, a blush on his cheeks as well. He squeezed the mage’s soft hand, slipped his other around Linhard’s hip, pulled him just a tiny bit closer.
He could feel the green-haired’s rapid heartbeat.
They closed the gap between their lips.
It seemed to last an eternity and yet, to Byleth it hadn’t felt anywhere near long enough.
Unlike that first surprise of a kiss in his office a few weeks ago, this one was careful, longing and sweet. The softness of Linhardt’s mouth was something he had noticed before, had made him more aware of the man’s lips afterwards.
It was incredible.
When they parted again, the two exchanged an equally long yet way too short gaze while Linhardt slowly let his hand, which had been resting on Byleth’s shoulder for the duration of the kiss, wander towards the professor’s face, gently caressing his cheek. Framed by prominent lashes, the scholar’s eyes shone just as much as the now much more noticable blush below them.
“So… it’s official now, isn’t it?”
A nod.
Their intertwined fingers danced around until they were apart again and Byleth used his to pull the mage into a tight embrace for just a moment. Linhardt answered by sliding his arms under his commander’s long coat, enjoying his warmth.
Just for a moment, they stayed like this beneath the moonlight.
“Perfect”, Linhardt whispered, “incredibly perfect. It’s almost like… paradise.”
They decided to retreat to Byleth’s chambers for the rest of the night, silently slipping away from the tower, the festivities, the world.
It was clear to both of them that the future was still uncertain, and as Byleth was pulled into his responsibilities as the new archbishop almost immediately in the following days and weeks, the freedom they had both desired was only really true for one of them.
Their private time, however, more than made up for it. They went fishing together, built marriage plans, saw Fódlan change. Whenever Linhardt would lay in his arms napping or going on long tangents about what new discoveries he had made about his fiancé’s crest, all of Byleth’s stress and worries were gone. Time did not matter.
It was indeed like paradise.
And together they had made it so.