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The starlight was kind to Seteth tonight. It cast the long shadows that he walked in, swathing him in a black cloak as he made his way through the ruined stone archways of the monastery. The thorns of the rose in his hands pricked his fingers, but he barely noticed it.
When he arrived at the garden, bathed in the silver glow of the moon, he saw who he was looking for. His dark hair shone silver in the soft moonlight, his eyelashes catching the light whenever he blinked. Byleth.
The young professor was sitting alone on a stone bench, his head lowered as he observed his flowers. Seteth straightened his back and took a step forward, then slowly made his way towards Byleth across the smooth stone.
“I see you’re out late tonight, Professor,” Seteth mused, and Byleth turned to look up at him, his lovely blue eyes upset. “...Is something the matter?”
“Hello, Seteth,” he murmured. “Nothing, nothing...it’s trivial at best.” Seteth sat down beside Byleth, the rose hidden under his cape.
“Whatever is bothering you on such a lovely night is most definitely not trivial. Go on.” Byleth’s hands were clasped in his lap, and he sighed.
“Someone picked one of my roses...my favorite one. Look.” Byleth pointed to his prized rosebush, at a stem that was cut short and flowerless. Seteth froze. He knew that rose well; it was behind his back right now.
“...Oh. I’m so sorry to hear that,” he choked. He had come here during reparations of the monastery to pluck it and gift it to Byleth! He thought himself so chivalrous, he hadn’t even taken the time to think whose roses they were. He wanted to fling himself off the monastery’s highest turret and meet his end as a puddle of shame.
“Oh well.” Byleth shook his head and smiled a little to himself. “There are new ones coming about. This one will bloom in a few days’ time, and I believe it may be more beautiful than the last.” He pointed to a bud just below the severed stem, streaks of vibrant red visible between shy green sepals.
“Yes.” Seteth itched. Everywhere. Now, the thorns started to hurt. He felt awful; how in the world was Byleth going to forgive him after he picked his prized rose?
Then, to his surprise, the young professor tipped his head so it rested on Seteth’s shoulder. “Nevertheless, if anyone was to see me in such a sorry state, I’m glad it was you.”
Seteth’s face grew warm, and he gazed down at Byleth; he was looking up at him. And when their eyes met, Byleth blushed and quickly began observing the ground.
“Thank you, Byleth.”
Byleth gasped softly, then laughed. It sounded like music. “That must be the first time you’ve said my real name.”
“And that must be the first time I’ve heard you laugh,” Seteth replied, unable to take his eyes off him. Byleth smiled, and he sat a little closer to Seteth on their stone bench. Nightingales sung from their roosts beneath the eaves of Garreg Mach Monastery, filling the comfortable silence of the night as Byleth and Seteth admired the fields of returning wildflowers and mountains beyond, the scars of war healing over time.
Soon, Seteth could not bear it any longer. He took a deep breath, then cleared his throat and started to speak. “Forgive me, Byleth, but there’s something I have to tell you.”
Byleth raised his head, his eyes reflecting the stars overhead like deep blue pools, surfaces untouched by the ripple of time. Seteth couldn’t look in them for too long, for he feared he would get lost in them, drown in them.
“Your rose...it was I who picked it.” Byleth’s thoughtful eyes widened with hurt, and it broke Seteth’s heart. “I didn’t know it was yours...I sought to find a flower that was perfect, as perfect as the person I hoped to gift it to. Of course it flourished so under your care.”
Byleth looked down. “I’m sorry,” Seteth told him quietly. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“...Who will you give it to?” the professor asked, not looking up. Seteth hesitated for just an instant, then brought the rose out from behind his back. When Byleth laid eyes on it, he gasped, and his hands flew to his mouth, his cheeks flushing.
“You,” Seteth answered. “...But now I feel ashamed; I killed it, and for what? Just to return it to you as something lesser?” Moonlight streaked along the flower’s velvety scarlet petals and glossy leaves, and Byleth traced the veins of its leaves with the tips of his fingers. He took it delicately, then lifted his head and smiled again, placing the rose against his heart.
“It’s okay, Seteth...it feels like something more when it comes from you.” Seteth smiled too, relief and affection flooding his head. For a moment, he thought he had destroyed the bond he had forged with Byleth over their time together.
Byleth continued to stare up at him, and Seteth relented, staring back. He lost himself in the depths of the young professor’s deep blue eyes, and it did not occur to him when Byleth placed his hand over Seteth’s. He was breathtaking, the moonlight shining like a gossamer veil over his night black clothing.
“To think,” he whispered, leaning a little closer, “we didn’t each other just five years ago...these tumultuous five years...now, I can’t imagine a day I’d live through without seeing your face.”
Seteth nodded slowly, turning his hand so his palm brushed Byleth’s. Byleth bit his lip when he did this. “Seiros decides our fates; that is what I was told, since before my duty as Lady Rhea’s advisor.” He took Byleth’s rose and placed it on the bench, then held his other hand between them. “But I believe this was simply destiny.”
Byleth stretched up so the tip of his nose brushed against Seteth’s, and that was all he dared to do. Seteth let his forehead rest against Byleth’s, but he did not kiss him.
There was still reservation between them, a fear. Seteth could not explain it, but he could not ignore it, either. There was still a great space between them, and he was certain it would take more than just five years of sleep for Byleth to allow him to cross it.
To his surprise, Byleth slipped himself into Seteth’s arms, pressed close to Seteth’s heart. Seteth simpered and placed his hand against Byleth’s face. The stars twinkled softly above them in the endless dark sky.
“No matter where one of us goes, the other will be with him, too, won’t he?” Byleth asked softly, and Seteth nodded, gently rubbing his cheek with the side of his thumb.
“Yes. We were destined to be forever under the same moon, and until the end of our time, that is where we will stay.”