Chapter Text
Catherine was walking to the cathedral -- not a lot of people out today. She came everyday to pay her respects to Lady Rhea. She… didn’t know about Lady Rhea, Seteth, and Flayn being Nebateans, it was like the humans were kept completely in the dark. It was a shame to see them go, and she would never compare lives in earnest… but the way Lady Rhea, maniacy in her eyes, ordered her to keep barraging the innocents with fire, the way Lady Rhea would unflinchingly believe that anyone who questioned deserved death, marked as an unrepentant sinner.
And then there was Byleth. When Lady Rhea died, their heart started to beat. Lady Rhea’s creation was being held back by its creator…
It was all too much. It was too much to parse, too much that just didn’t make sense. If Lady Rhea was such this tender, loving woman to Catherine, but so merciless to everyone else not in her immediate troupe? Wasn’t that what the Church of Seiros was about? Repent and ye shall have mercy, all beings are created and deserve mercy, that kinda stuff?
Lady Rhea seemed to miss the “mercy” part of her own teachings. If she was Seiros, then it was all a lie.
Catherine fell to her knees and wept.
“I just want… the woman I believed to be Lady Rhea… to draw breath. Seiros, you are not the one of whom I speak. I believe in mercy. Lady Rhea did, too, but Seiros did not. The worth of a human life -- a fragile, sacred thing -- and Lady Rhea became careless with them. That’s....”
And she wept.
And wept.
“That’s not the woman I came to love, the woman who saved me.”
She felt arms envelope her mid-section, rubbing her back sometimes. When she dried her eyes a little bit, it was no surprise that Shamir was there with her, kneeling, in the cathedral. Well, it must’ve been quite a sight, but Shamir’s devotion was the devotion that drew Catherine to Lady Rhea in the first place.
Had it been misplaced?
“Am I a fool? Shamir.”
Shamir looked about ready to meditate - for her, what else was there to do? Instead, she took her glove off and ran her fingers through Catherine’s hair.
“No.”
Feeling the empty space growing, Shamir expanded her answer:
“I don’t suffer fools. Nor do I marry them.”
Catherine’s arm came around and hugged Shamir close. It was a while before she responded.
“You need to propose first, you nut.”
Wordlessly, Shamir brought her hand to her chest and raised her brows into an offended expression and mouthed, ‘Me?’
Catherine laughed. She only ever seemed to laugh with Shamir these days. While it was nice… there was a time when that was Lady Rhea instead. Did she put all her eggs in one basket again?
Is that just all life was?
Something Shamir was doing that Lady Rhea never did was support her without expecting anything in return. Nurse a soldier’s spirit back to health, they’ll fight for you twice as hard. Sit with your girlfriend in a place you hate while she weeps? What did Shamir get out of that?
Maybe she could talk to Edelgard about this at some point. She knew Edelgard knew all the ins and outs that Catherine was too naive to believe existed.
“Stupid, Stupid! ” Catherine yelled through tears, starting to hit herself in the head. This caught Shamir’s attention. “I’m so fucking stupid! ”
“No, you’re not.”
“And worthless! ”
“No, you’re not.
“And naive!”
“Well, okay, a little, but it’s not a problem.”
“If I wasn’t so fucking stupid ,--
“--No hitting.--”
“-- I would’ve seen the merciless hack you were!” Catherine bent down and lobbed a sizable chunk of debris at a shrine of Seiros.
“Fuck her up, babe.”
Catherine collapsed on the ground again, crying, curling up into the tiniest ball possible. If she existed less, then maybe her mistakes would, too.
“I’m just. So fucking stupid,” Catherine said through her sobs.
“No, you’re not.”
“Shamir, all I do is put all my eggs in one basket. That fails, then I do it again, hoping it’ll be different! That’s stupid!”
“Do not hit yourself, I happen to love that beautiful face.”
"I have no idea what to do with myself now that she’s gone…” It was a whisper, haunted sounding.
“Break the cycle,” said Shamir. She had been working deftly to tie Catherine’s hair into three small braids that met into one big braid. “Find balance within yourself, and what you choose to accompany you on your journey.”
Catherine looked a right mess, limestone debris still clung to her face moistly as she continued her back-to-back revelations about a toxic relationship. The word she was thinking of was hurt, Lady Rhea hurt her. Hurt many. And there’s no way to reconcile for any of it besides try to grow anew?
As much as Shamir didn’t want to leave her… Catherine was starting to ignore her basic needs. She wouldn’t be at that stage unless she needed help, so she planned for Cyril to come tagteam in Operation: Look Over Catherine. She told him to go to the cathedral, maybe he could watch over her and talk while Shamir secured some of Catherine’s favourite dishes and put them in their room, then a few things for the walk back.
When Shamir stood in the dining room line, she noticed Mercedes, who gave her a friendly wave.
“Are you going back out there?” Mercedes asked Shamir in line. She got a nod in return.
“Catherine…” Shamir said, looking more than a bit preoccupied.
“Ah! Say no more!” Mercedes perked up, then draped her Golden Deer shawl around Shamir’s shoulders. “For Catherine. I know those nights where you just need to stay up and let it all out, even in the cold." She studied Shamir, gaze lingering on Shamir's concerned eyes. Mercedes giggled. "You’re a pretty sweet wife if you’re making sure she’s eating through her mourning period!”
“Hah, well, actually--”
Cyril: spotted. Excellent - she could take a few moments to relax, knowing Catherine had reliable company. Shamir continued her conversation with Mercedes with no problem, opting to eat with her before bringing food over.
---
“Gotta find Catherine, Gotta find Catherine… Gotta...Oh! Okay, duh.” Cyril talked aloud to help himself focus. Catherine was on the ground, right in the spot where she was shined on by moonlight. No problem!
Cyril unceremoniously plopped down next to Catherine, startling her. “Oh, sorry! Can I sit here?”
“Uhm, sure. How have. How have you been doing?” she asked, coughing to clear her throat.
With a contemplative expression, Cyril paused and said, “Since learning that the lady who took me in and showed me great mercy and kindness was a fake and probably cared nothing for her subjects beyond her getting what she wants? Pretty crummy.”
Catherine laughed weakly, tears still rolling down.
"I... know the feeling."
She stared at one spot, but didn’t really seem to be be there; she didn't notice when Shamir walked up behind Cyril and barely heard him as he spoke again:
“Yeah, I can see that. But it’s not like you put all your eggs in one basket or anything. I was convinced all I needed was Lady Rhea. But you? You’ve got a fiancee that loves you, friends that trust you, experience under your belt many do actually gawk at… no, this isn’t some life-shattering mistake. Just one regular-sized one. You’ll get through, day by day.”
Catherine kept crying, but nodded her head.
“I brought a shawl from Mercedes, do you want it?” Shamir asked. Catherine nodded, and Shamir wrapped it around her.
“Shamir…” Catherine muttered. Her grip on Shamir’s hand tightened.
“What do you need?” Shamir asked.
“Don’t know… where... “ Catherine muttered, increasingly panicked.
“I know the way. Our room’s not far. It’s alright now. Maybe it doesn’t feel okay, but it is. Day by day, minute by minute.” Shamir brought up Catherine’s hand and kissed it.
Once up in their room, Catherine looked at herself in the mirror like she saw a ghost.
“I killed… for her. I killed so many people for her. I,” she said, turning around to look at Shamir on the bed, “I almost killed you for her.”
Shamir nodded. “I know. She was a twisted woman. It’s not your fault. It’s okay now. Join me?”
Catherine crawled over, and they slept.
Upon awakening, Catherine looked in the mirror and saw a slew of messy braids.
She laughed. “What did this happen? I think this might suit me.”
Shamir woke up to a kiss. “What was that’fr?” Shamir sluttered, still heavy in sleep.
You must’ve done these braids; I messed ‘em up but, they’re beautiful. Can you redo them?”
Shamir nodded and said, “Bring ‘em here!” which prompted Catherine to flop on Shamir.
“What, are you going to throw me out the window, too?!” Shamir complained, but got to work with a few short directions.
“Last night was… something else. I barely remember it. Was it bad?”
“Naw. Entirely justified.”
“Did I get out what I needed to?”
“Only you know that answer. I’d at least say you’re starting to heal. And you won’t be alone; she hurt so many people. So many people love you and know the mourning you’re going through, it can be nice to sit with another person outside.”
“Mmm.
“When there’s too much, I destress by going on missions.”
“Wait. Really?” Catherine asked.
“Yeah. It keeps me engaged and focused so I don’t focus on all the bad things.”
“That’s… a pretty good idea. Maybe I could join?”
Shamir made a face. “Umm, I’m not too sure… you won’t be a distraction.
“When have I ever distracted you ?”
“Right now. I was almost done.”
Catherine flipped over, stomach-to-stomach. “Thank you, and, I love you. Even if you won’t propose to me.”
Shamir leaned in for a kiss. “You have nothing to thank me for. I’ll get around to it… Things just need to be perfect.”
“Did L… Rhea ever mess with your head like she did mine?” Catherine asked. Shamir scootched up so Catherine’s head was in her lap. She thought, stroking Catherine’s hair.
“I don’t think our experiences are comparable. That’s like comparing mine and Petra’s losses in the war. It was there, it was different.” She gazed out a window.
“I would like to head that way when we’re done here,” Catherine said with a huge grin. “Please?”
“Maybe. Rhea fucked you up hard. I’ll be here for you, okay? She didn’t fuck me up as bad. I think it’d be good to try healing a bit before we go seafaring.”
“You’re right; I know you are. I just feel like… I shouldn’t be alive? It’s the strangest thing.”
Shamir hummed. “Well, I think you should. I’d like it if you were.”
“I feel like… if La...if Rhea isn’t alive, and I am? Then I did something wrong. I lived by that doctrine for so many years. I had no idea she was… like that.” Pinpricks of tears started again.
“You mourn however you need to, Cass, If you need something, just let me know. It’s a hard time right now, but all of us will get through it. I’m here for you,” Shamir said, holding Catherine’s hands, playing with them, “and I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’re sweet, Mir.” Catherine reached up and kissed her.
“Hey, mental health is important in the battlefield, in the war, in the base. Our brains have to make sense of it all somehow, y’know? And we only have each other… a lot of us, at least. Do not look at me with that face. I don’t want pity, I just want everyone to find what level-headed technique works for them.”
“ You work for me.”
“No, I mean a technique. Like a coping strategy? You have some.”
“I was kidding around, you doof.”
“... Oh. Well, that’s not good, either. Because having everything hinge on one relationship can lead to isolationism and toxicity and all sorts of bad power stuff.”
“Really? Would you overpower me?”
“I…” it was at this moment that Shamir realized she was explaining so hard that she missed Catherine stripping, laying on top of her.
Just one flex of that back was honestly enough for Shamir. Catherine laughed as she heard the sharp inhale.
“What’s the matter? Feeling a little red, partner?”
Catherine echo’d Shamir’s sentiment from earlier.
“Why don’t you make me a little red, part-ner ?” Shamir asked, harshly dictating while poking Catherine’s nose.
“Hah! Got you right where I want ya!”