Chapter Text
She’s in-between wakefulness and light slumbers for quite some time, basking in the peace she feels at simply laying like this, with Rhea against her as her thoughts drift to nothing in particular. She feels so light. Sleeping was always a practical affair for her, but now she finds herself wishing she could laze around in bed like this for hours.
Which she does, until Lady Rhea begins to stir against her. Apparently she’s a slow one to wake, and even slower to become aware of her surroundings. She stretches her body lazily and yawns, the latter which Byleth finds surprisingly endearing, before she opens her eyes and still needs another few seconds to come to the conclusion she is half draped over Byleth.
“Oh,” she murmurs groggily as her eyes widen. “Oh,” she repeats again, this time sounding more alert. “I’m… I’m so sorry, I must have… I’ll let go ime-”
“No, stay,” Byleth interrupts her while simultaneously placing her hand over Rhea’s own which she had already began to retract. “I mean we can stay like this a little longer if you don’t mind,” she adds, to make her request sound a little less like a demand.
Rhea stills her movements and eyes her curiously. “Surely you have better things to do?” she asks with a hint of disbelief.
Byleth can’t help but laugh. “Not really no, we have quite some time left before I have to prepare my lessons for today and honestly I find myself enjoying laying here like this with you much more than anything else I can come up with.”
“Enjoying?” The Archbishop asks her with slightly widened eyes and a confused expression.
Byleth nods with a smile. “Mhm, it’s… soothing and peaceful. It never really occurred to me how much I liked feeling peaceful. I’m nearly always doing something. Not even really things that cause stress, just… practical things to keep me occupied. I never really sought out peace, not like this.”
Reluctantly and almost endearingly delicately, Rhea lowers her head again to lay down once more, yet struggles to find a position to lie with her head against Byleth’s side while still being able to look at her face.
“Come,” Byleth says as gentle as she can and spreads her arm next to her. An invitation for Rhea to truly lie against her.
The Archbishop’s eyes widen even more when she gets Byleth’s intention. She looks as if she wants to speak, to argue or protest but something akin to passive compliance falls over hear features.
She hesitates for a moment longer, searching Byleth’s eyes intently for anything like discomfort, malice, unwillingness, yet Byleth feels so at ease right now she’s confident Rhea will find none of the things she’s afraid of.
And indeed, her expression softens as she gracefully hoists herself up until her head is lined up with that of Byleth as she lies on her back with Byleth’s arm underneath her head.
Byleth can’t help but feel amused. The other woman is so stiff, and even when she all but invited her to cuddle, Rhea decided to awkwardly lie on her outstretched arm and stare intently at the ceiling.
“Come,” Byleth murmurs gently again, as she nudges her arm under Rhea upwards a little. “You can lie against me, if you so wish.”
Rhea’s head jolts sideways to meet Byleth’s eyes. “Do you wish for that?” she asks, sounding unsure and almost nervous.
Unable to help herself, Byleth feels a smile form on her lips. “I do yes.”
“Why?”
“Mhm, it might be odd but holding you so close makes me feel so safe. It should be silly for a mercenary, to feel safe when I have no weapons with me and with my guard down… but still, if I feel you against me I can’t help but want to let my guard down even more,” Byleth answers truthfully, and it’s the first time she manages to put the feeling into words like this.
“You’re not silly,” Rhea tells her softly before tentatively turning over to her side, and moves to let her head rest on Byleth’s shoulder while her arm tightens around Byleth’s waist. Even her legs she presses along the length of Byleth’s own, and Byleth can’t help but shiver at the sudden incredibly pleasing and comforting feeling of having Rhea’s body touching her own in so many places.
She dares to wrap the arm Rhea was previously lying on around the woman, her hand coming to rest on her waist, where she softly strokes her sides, eliciting a soft and slow sigh from Rhea.
“I feel safe like this too,” Rhea murmurs against her chest. “And it should be silly, because… because it makes no sense.” Her head perks up to look into Byleth’s eyes. “But please keep holding me,” she asks. The aching vulnerability in her voice is enough for Byleth’s brain to go haywire and tell her that it is of utmost importance she is to hold this woman tightly in her arms for all of eternity.
They lie like this for quite some time. Eventually Byleth musters up the courage to tentatively move to brush Rhea’s long hair.
She had been afraid Rhea might not appreciated being touched without warning, or would find the gesture too intimate to be appropriate but instead an almost needy whimper comes from the woman, so affected by the sensation.
It also immediately serves to embarrass her.
“Byleth…” Comes the muffled reaction from her, and even the way the sounded of her voice is dampened by her mouth pressed into Byleth’s dress shirt doesn’t fully hide the tremble in her voice.
She’s so delicate, Byleth thinks to herself, yet doesn’t stop her ministrations, only slows them down a bit.
“Do you want me to stop?” she asks, giving the Archbishop a way out of she wishes to.
Rhea presses her face harder against Byleth and makes another muffled noise, which Byleth interprets as something in between embarrassment and frustration.
That’s a clear ‘no’ then, Byleth decides.
And with that she speeds up the way her fingers rake through the long green hair, and soon finds the courage to play with Rhea’s hair in all kinds of manners, each which elicit soft noises and whimpers of satisfaction and pleasure from the other woman, who seems to have surrendered herself to Byleth’s hand, with her whole body having gone limp.
Byleth finds out that the Archbishop particularly enjoys it if she spreads her fingers across the lower back of her head, grabs some strands of hair at the base and gently tugs at it.
The first time she does it Rhea almost moans in delight, and Byleth’s first reaction is to reassure her by tightening her hand in the fabric around Rhea’s waist, hoping to prevent her from shooting straight into embarrassment once more.
“I like doing this,” she whispers softly. “It’s nice.”
“…It feels really good, too.”
Rhea finds the strength to look up at Byleth, who as to stifle a gasp… and several other reactions.
With her hair now tussled, her cheeks reddened and the way her eyes look so glazed over and hazy, yet with dilated pupils makes Byleth feel things she cannot put into words.
“You look beautiful,” she whispers in quiet awe, yet that doesn’t cut it at all. She looks beautiful in such a way that Byleth wants to touch her, do things to let Rhea produce more of those noises and to keep her looking at herself like this always.
Rhea responds to her words with a watery smile, still looking dazed.
It’s love then, Byleth settles on. This particular way of finding Rhea so utterly breathtaking right now and which translates into wanting to touch her more, wanting to make her feel good, is a way of wanting to express her love. Or something…
But with a cold jab in her heart she reminds herself that holding her and playing with her hair is the only way for her to express it.
To shove the thought, and the unfamiliar feeling of longing, aside she resumes combing her fingers through Rhea’s hair again, and once she adds the faintest of pressure to her touch Rhea understands her intentions and lowers her head onto Byleth’s chest again with a soft sigh.
For quite some time Byleth isn’t sure if she’s fully awake, but she’s awake enough to keep moving her hand and hear the sounds Rhea makes, and that’s more than enough for her.
It isn’t until she hears the bells ring eight that she realizes she at least partially dozed off because time moved way faster than normal.
It also really means she should get going, because while she doesn’t have all that much to prepare for her class, and can usually wing it if she finds herself unprepared, she is very certain she definitely needs an hour to prepare herself.
She feels incredibly comfortable and tender, and so wonderfully vulnerable, which she can let herself be around Rhea because she feels so safe with her.
But her students will definitely notice her lose track of what she’s saying or stare outside with a vacant expression whenever she’ll get hit by a flash of how she’s feeling right now.
It’s Rhea who gets up first, leaning on her elbow while her other hand is still placed over Byleth’s waist.
She’s almost atop of Byleth like this, with her face so close to Byleth’s own. She’s keenly aware of her hand still pressed against the Saint’s back. …It would only require a gentle push there to lower Rhea’s face even more. …Perhaps Rhea would let her.
Perhaps Rhea would kiss her.
Her mind freezes, and her body stiffens, causing Rhea to startle and move away from Byleth in one smooth motion. “My apologies, I’m keeping you here while you really ought to go and prepare your lessons,” she says hurriedly, with the faintest of blushes creeping up on her cheeks.
Once she’s entirely off the bed –and the distance between them makes Byleth feel cold- Rhea looks at her with a guilt ridden expression.
“I’ve been so selfish,” she says quietly, a tremble in her voice.
Now Byleth is out of the bed in seconds. “No. You haven’t been. I assure you, you were not selfish at all.”
“But I… I indulged,” Rhea mutters as she averts her gaze.
“We,” Byleth corrects her. “We indulged. And I’m not even sure indulging is the right word. You took nothing from me I didn’t want to give you myself,” she hesitates as she summons the courage to continue. “I want to keep giving you more,” she dares saying.
Rhea’s eyes widen. “More? How could you possibly mean that?”
“I just do. And until the end of this moon I’ll be delighted to give you everything you need or want. If you find yourself wanting it, come seek me out. For tea, walks, more chats or even spending another night together like this… because that’s all I’ve ever wanted. To be what you need.” Her voice is ragged by the end she’s done talking, as she forgot to breathe, and several times it cracked as her emotions poured into her voice.
Rhea gives her a bewildered look. “To be what I need…” she repeats uncertainly. “I don’t think I even know what I need.”
“Giving my life so that the Goddess can return is what you need,” Byleth states. “After that… after I’m gone everything will change for you and you’ll get that future you’ve been working so hard for and waiting even longer for.” It hurts to say, somewhere deep inside her, but it’s in a way she doesn’t understand and she doesn’t want to dwell on it now either.
“Until then, perhaps you can be selfish and spend as much time with me… because I want that too, I want to be selfish and indulge with you as well.” She feels herself fluster but refuses to lose to her nerves. “Perhaps you are what I need as well, to spend time with you until I go to the Holy tomb so that I can follow my destiny steadfastly and without regrets.”
Her words seem to hit a snare in Rhea, who suddenly looks very emotional. “I will do that,” she says in a flare of determination. “It’s the least I can do for you,” she adds much softer. “I will get to know you as who you are.”
It abruptly dawns on Byleth what she just said, and what Rhea just agreed to. To spend more time with each other. The thought makes her excited and almost giddy. “A-alright,” she stutters, suddenly feeling out of her depth. “I would really enjoy that.”
Rhea smiles at her. “Me too, professor. …Would you perhaps care to join me for tea this afternoon? After your classes are done of course.”
“Yes,” Byleth says without much thought. “Please, I would love to.”
She didn’t expect this, not at all. And suddenly she feels as if she’s walking on air.
Which lasts throughout her classes, which are much more chaotic than her students have come to expect from her, and she gets the occasional questioning look.
But she can’t help it. Not only does she have the memories of this morning to think back of, which give her pleasant shivers each time, she now also has teatime with Rhea to look forward to, which makes her feel almost childlike giddy.
When her classes have finally come to an end she wastes no time going to the private area in the garden where faculty can enjoy the outdoors and talk to one another, along with lots of tea.
She’s early but she doesn’t care.
It turns out she doesn’t have to care because Rhea is even earlier than her. Greeting her with a warm but slightly uncertain smile.
When Byleth has sat down and poured herself a cup of tea Rhea makes good on her promise to get Byleth to know as Byleth and asks her all sorts of questions about herself.
Byleth had always been under the impression her life as a mercenary was not all that interesting to talk about, or at least not as interesting as other people made it out to be. Sure, she experienced tense, dangerous and exciting moments, but when it came down to it each mission was more or less the same.
Rhea teaches her otherwise by somehow asking all sorts of questions that make Byleth recall specific moments during her missions that stood out, things she never even really realized she cared about as much as she did. They’re small things like her father giving her impromptu lessons in the midst of battle or that time they were lost in a forest for nearly four days, but Rhea’s reactions suddenly make them feel much bigger.
She laughs and reacts with surprise and worry at times, asking for more details whenever she can, and it makes Byleth’s life seem… worth living somehow. Not as mundane as she always felt it was.
Or rather, she struggled to make much sense of her feelings at those times, but now that she recalls her life together with Rhea she realizes how many things she did feel in those moments, and how much more she feels when she thinks back on them.
Rhea herself is much more reluctant when it comes to talking about her own life, only mentioning the vaguest details here and there. Byleth supposes she can understand. If you have lived over a thousand years, and a lot of it in secrecy, it must feel strange to just come up with some of your more interesting experiences on a whim.
Sadly Rhea doesn’t have too much time.
Only for Byleth to realize it’s been nearly two hours when Rhea apologizes and tells her she has a meeting to attend soon.
It’s nothing like her to lose track of time but she was just too immersed in the conversation.
“I’m really sorry I have to cut this short,” Rhea murmurs with a guilty expression as she gets up from her chair.
Byleth hurriedly follows and finds herself standing awkwardly next to the other woman a moment later.
“It’s alright,” she tells her. “You have important duties to attend to.”
Rhea gives her a smile. “In a way,” she says dismissively. “But different things are important in different ways.”
She reaches out and grabs Byleth’s wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze as she looks her intently in the eyes.
“I’ll see you soon, professor,” she says softly and with another smile she makes her leave.
Byleth stands there for quite some time before she really has no excuses left to keep standing and stare at nothing like a dork.
Rhea’s ‘soon’ proves to indeed be soon, and frequent as well, as the following days Rhea seeks her out for all kinds of reasons, some flimsy and barely even an excuse and others which come in the form of more invitations to tea or walks.
Most often she just ‘happens’ upon Byleth and takes some time in her busy schedule to chat idly with her, much to Seteth’s chagrin, who is often accompanying her, but Rhea pointedly ignores his subtle ways of trying to hurry her on.
She even takes to touching Byleth, nothing more than a hand on her shoulder or back in greeting, or another squeeze of her wrist whenever she can get away with it.
But it’s enough to make Byleth feel like she’s walking on air and looks forward to each encounter with Rhea with excitement. She internally tries to chide herself for hoping she’ll get another hand on her shoulder, but she can’t shake her eagerness at the prospect, or the stupid smiles she has each time she’s thinking about it.
Two days later she’s in the middle of talking with Rhea about nothing in particular, as Rhea managed to snag her away just after her classes ended and she was making her way to the dining hall, when Seteth finds the both of them and already looks irked he found his sister dawdling, as he likes to call it.
“Seteth, I was in the middle of something,” Rhea says with a slightly sour expression, vaguely upset he’s interrupting her once again.
“I can see that, Lady Rhea,” Seteth says thinly. “But you are expected to attend prayer soon.”
Rhea looks at him and subtly narrows her eyes. “Those aren’t mandatory.”
Her brother looks slightly taken aback, and then back to annoyed. “No, but they are important.”
“So is talking to the professor,” Rhea argues back, still sounding gentle but also somewhat unyielding.
Byleth is starting to feel increasingly like she really doesn’t want to be here to witness them bickering about her, but alas, here she is.
“As I’ve noticed, yes,” Seteth says with thinly veiled hostility, and makes it a point to glare at Byleth, who looks back at him as stoic and uncaring as possible.
Rhea huffs, which Byleth finds oddly endearing. “Fine,” she says curtly.
She hesitates before moving, first looking at Byleth with a lingering question in her eyes and then gives Seteth a hard stare, not hiding her own annoyance at being told what to do.
“Actually, professor,” she says sweetly. “I was wondering if you would be willing to spend the night with me again.”
Both Byleth and Seteth make a shocked noise at the same time. With Byleth sounding more afraid and Seteth trying not to cough as he wheezes.
“What,” he says sharply.
“To sleep! …With her!” Byleth blurts out in panic, only to realize she’s not helping herself her.
“With our eyes closed,” she splutters. “As in just the act of sleeping, nothing else,” she continues to stammer. “She said she had nightmares,” she finally adds awkwardly in a soft murmur.
“Right,” Seteth says flatly, clearly unimpressed with her passionate description of sleeping. He glances over at his sister with a cold glare, yet looks also curious as to why she would possibly say this, in front of him no less.
When Byleth follows his example and her eyes land on Rhea she catches the subtle smile tugging on her lips and the twinkle in her eyes and promptly realizes the woman did this on purpose to amuse herself and is terribly pleased with the result.
“At eight?” Byleth says, resigning herself to the possibility she’ll be taken out in cold blood by Seteth before eight can even happen.
“Sounds perfect,” Rhea responds, struggling to hide her mischief.
“Excuse me,” Seteth tries to intervene. “But Lady Rhea, as your advisor I must object to you spending a nigh-”
“Seteth,” Rhea says sternly, “we are almost late for prayer. We can’t have that now, can we?”
She gives Byleth one more lingering look. “See you tonight, professor.”
And with that she’s of.
Seteth remains standing where he is, fuming and unable to come up with what to say.
“Seteth, now,” Rhea calls for him in the distance.
With one last glare at Byleth, telling her silently that this isn’t over, he hurries after her.