Chapter Text
Byelth’s legs had a familiar ache in them as she entered Remire. The midday sun was high above her, making her shadow a black puddle at her feet. She glanced about, taking in a few landmarks to help her find her way and maybe spot an inn without having to bother any of the townsfolk. Though some tipped their hats to her in greeting.
Byleth wasn’t one to stay in one place for too long, never had a reason to beyond the basic necessities of eating and resting. Very rarely would she stay long enough to know the locals or their customs aside from where their inn was or a blacksmith to repair her sword. She’d sometimes chat up the innkeeper for any rumors of bandits or if there was a bounty posted for her to take on.
But something about Remire was different.
A crowd slowly gathering around the water fountain at the town square grabbed her attention, pulling her away from her inn-hunting task.
She stopped a young boy who was about to pass her by. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“Not from around here, are you?” the boy commented with a toothy grin.
“Obviously,” Byleth deadpanned, gesturing to her clothes and armor that contrasted greatly with the simple clothes of the people around them.
The boy shrugged. “The contest is about to begin. The cat will be here any minute now.”
Byleth blinked, only understanding the boy’s words individually.
“There’s a woman who lives in the outskirts and she can grant a wish if someone can catch her cat and get the key from it. But they gotta do it before the week is up, ‘else we’ll have to wait a whole ‘nother year to try again,,” he explained.
“Huh,” was all Byleth could say in response. A woman who grants wishes? Is that even possible? She was no stranger to magic, but only the kind that aimed to kill her.
The loud murmurs of the gathering crowd suddenly fell hushed as a few of them pointed excitedly. Byleth craned her neck to see and spotted a snow white cat sauntering closer to the square. It jumped onto the stone wall of the fountain and sat down, fixing the crowd with an unblinking stare. Around its neck was a lavender ribbon with a shining silver key hanging from it.
Seconds passed. The townsfolk coiled with tension as they waited with bated breath. Who was going to make the first move? Them or the cat?
Then the cat raised a paw.
And began cleaning itself.
With a shout, a man shot forward and made to grab the cat.
As if expecting this, the cat leaped and hopped onto the man’s shoulder and bounded away. Other townsfolk had followed his example and lunged for the feline as well but were met with the same result.
Byleth watched the chaos with an amused smile. The boy she had been speaking to joined the fray to cheer on the participants along with other spectators who all laughed rauctiously at the unfolding antics.
If Byleth had heard about this from the next city over, she’d assume that it was the stuff of a child’s imagination rather than a legitimate tradition upheld by the townsfolk. It was strange beyond belief, and she has traveled to many strange places in Fodlan in her life. But she had to admit that it was entertaining.
Her aching limbs begged her to walk away and find a bed to fall into, but instead Byleth set down her travel pack, stretched her arms over her head, and got down on one knee, turning her amused focus into one of calculation. She has years of experience in hunting and tracking, and if there was one thing she had in abundance it was patience.
A woman came close to getting the key. If time was slowed, everyone would see that her fingertip grazed the cat’s scruff where the lavender ribbon rested. Even the cat was caught by surprise, acting on instinct to run away in a hurry rather than get away strategically like it had been since the chase began.
Byleth surged forward, jumping after the cat until her fingers curled into the soft fur. Soon she had a grip on the cat’s torso, earning her a shocked meow that rang out in the town square. Her momentum was too much to completely stop and so she cradled the feline close to her chest as she tucked and rolled across the dirt.
A tense silence fell over the square as the mercenary coughed against the kicked up dust and debris, all the while she kept a gentle hold on the cat. Its once snow white fur was coated with a thin layer of dirt from the tumble. But it didn’t look concerned about that at all. Instead, its unusual violet eyes were wide, its tail ramrod straight and tense along with the rest of its body. It didn’t try to escape, even as the woman shifted so that the cat rested on her lap. Rather, the cat stared up at its captor, fully exposing the key around its neck. It knew the conditions of victory and it closed its eyes in resignation as the victor’s hand descended over it.
But instead of feeling a tug at its neck, the cat felt fingers softly pet the top of its head.
“Mrow?” The cat opened its eyes, then immediately fell shut again in bliss when Byleth went to scratch at its ears.
“You’re a beautiful kitty, aren’t you? Yes you are,” Byleth cooed, feeling herself grin when the cat started to relax in her lap. When was the last time someone petted this cat instead of chasing it?
She ran her hand down the length of the cat’s back, making sure to scratch at the base of its tail. The gentle rumble sounding from the cat immediately amplified into a full purr, making the mercenary chuckle.
“What are you waitin’ for? Get the key!” one of the townsfolk encouraged, shattering the blissful bubble that had enveloped them.
Byleth felt the cat tense up again and she frowned. Giving the cat one last pat, Byleth lifted it off her lap.
The cat turned about, fixing her with a curious tilt of its head.
“Go on,” Byleth urged gently, “get a head start while you can.”
Finally, the cat sprinted away, much to the collective chagrin of the citizens who soon took off after it.
Byleth’s gaze followed after the retreating feline before heaving herself up from the ground. She brushed at her clothes, shaking off the dirt while making her way back towards her travel pack.
“Why’d you do that?” the boy from earlier asked. “You coulda grabbed the key.”
The mercenary shrugged. “I thought the cat was cute, that’s good enough for me. Can you point me in the direction of the inn?”
The boy blinked, caught off guard by the sharp change in topic. But he pointed her the way anyway.
One of the perks of arriving at a town with a festival or some sort of special occasion was the likelihood that the inns and taverns would be empty or too caught up in the celebrations to pay a traveler like her any mind.
The innkeeper, a woman with long wavy brunette hair and striking emerald eyes greeted her with a warm smile from her spot behind the long counter. “Well, I didn’t expect to see anyone here on a day like this. What brings you to Remire, stranger?”
Byleth pulled up a chair across at the counter and sat down with a relieved sigh. “Just passing through.”
“You picked a good day,” the innkeeper remarked as she placed a mug of water in front of Byleth before sticking out a hand. “Dorothea.”
The mercenary returned the gesture. “Byleth. This town has a very interesting tradition. How did it start?”
“Oh you know, for the same reason many legends begin: the human desire for things they can only dream of,” came the wistful answer.
Byleth hummed, remembering the boy from earlier mentioning that the reward for catching the cat was a wish. Who was this woman? How does she grant wishes? she wondered.
“How long has this been going on?”
Dorothea tilted her head back, one eye squinted as she thought. “About four or five years now?”
“Does this wish-granting woman ever come into town?”
“Only a handful of times. She comes at dawn before the streets get too busy. I’ve seen her cat more often than her to be honest.”
She could respect that.
In a town so lively that the people are willing to spend a week pursuing a cat, the woman sounded like a whole other world away in comparison.
“The cat... Does it have a name?”
“Huh. I don’t get many inquiries about the cat herself.”
“The cat is a she?” Byleth made a note of that.
“I’ve been taken to calling her Edie.” Dorothea leaned over the counter, propping her chin on her palm with an amused grin. “You care an awful lot about this little tradition for someone ‘just passing through.’ How long do you plan on staying, by the way, Miss Byleth?”
She shrugged. “A day. Maybe two. Depends on how well I’m doing on funds.”
Dorothea tapped her temple with a wink. “Well, you don’t have to look far for some work around here. The butcher pays well for any meat brought to him; the baker always appreciates having an extra hand to make the morning batches, the list goes on.”
Byleth recalled a lake she passed by when she first arrived. That sounds like as good a place to start as any. She’ll start at dawn.
“Thank you, Dorothea. How much for a room here?”
***
Mourning doves sang from their perches in the trees as Byleth assembled her fishing rod. She casted her line and sat down, listening to the soft ripples of the lake lapping at the dock. Her head fell back as she breathed in the cool early morning air.
Her eyes locked on to the bobber as a faint shadow of a fish surfaced near it. Her grip tightened around her rod in anticipation.
“Mrow?”
She jumped and whirled her attention to the source of the noise. “Oh, it’s you.”
The white cat from the town square yesterday had sat herself beside her and stared up at her with those piercing violet eyes. How did she manage to sneak up so close to her?
“I was told your name was Edie.”
The cat’s ear flicked. “Mrow.”
“I think it’s cute,” she complimented. “I’m Byleth.”
She felt a tug on her line. On instinct she worked to reel in her catch. Edie reared back on her haunches with her tail poofed in surprise.
After a few moments of struggle, the fish splashed up from the water and flopped onto the dock at Byleth’s feet. A black bass, Byleth surmised, and a decent sized one at that.
The cat stepped closer and pawed at it tentatively. When the fish thrashed once more, she jumped away with a hiss.
Byleth chuckled and gave the feline a soothing pat while using her free hand to dump the fresh catch into the bucket. “There, now it can’t bother you,” she said.
Edie eyed the bucket warily, but the continued petting was like magic and she plopped down onto the dock while purring loudly. Though, it didn’t drown out the sound of the key around her neck clinking against the wood.
Byleth’s eyes fell onto it, causing her hand to slow its strokes against the cat’s soft white fur. It would be so easy to take the key. If it’s true that Edie’s owner can grant wishes... But what would Byleth wish for?
Noticing the lack of pats, Edie meowed at her in protest.
The mercenary snapped herself out of her thoughts and scratched beneath the cat’s chin. “As nice as it would be to keep petting you, Pretty, I need to catch more than just one fish if I’m gonna have enough money to survive until my next job.”
Edie only tilted its head in response, almost looking like it was asking a question, but that could easily just be Byleth’s imagination.
“You can stay if you want, I don’t mind,” she answered the nonexistent inquiry anyway. “I don’t usually have company when I fish,” she mused to herself.
“Mrow.” The cat stood up to paw at Byleth’s leg before settling down to sit beside her, fixing her gaze out towards the water.
Byleth smiled and scratched the cat’s ears one last time before casting out her line once more. “I’ll take that as a yes. I’ll catch something for you to take home, how’s that sound?”
After some hours spent at the lake, Byleth’s bucket was teeming with fish and Edie trotting alongside her as she headed back towards Remire. Just as she promised, she gave her a fish and it hung limply from the feline’s mouth.
It was a cute sight and the mercenary just wanted to scoop the cat into her arms. But she didn’t want to push her luck and break the cat’s trust so soon after meeting it.
“Are you going to take it to your owner?” she asked it as the town loomed closer into view. She assumed that she and Edie would part ways before reaching it. Holding a fish would make it hard to get away from the folks trying to catch her, no doubt.
“Mrrp,” came Edie’s muffled reply.
“Let me know if she enjoys it then,” Byleth said. “Does she know how to cook? Maybe we can swap recipes. I know a good way to prepare that fish you have. Here, I can write it down for you.”
Byleth set down the bucket and pulled out a scrap piece of paper she had torn from an old wanted poster, and dug out what was left of her charcoal stick. She knelt down and, from memory, wrote down the recipe against her thigh before rolling it into a scroll.
“Uh... how should I...?” Byleth glanced about the cat, trying to figure out how it would carry both the fish and the note.
Seeing this, Edie released the fish and craned her neck to expose the lavender ribbon around her neck.
“Ha. Pretty and smart. A girl after my heart, aren’t you,” Byleth joked and slipped the rolled paper under the ribbon.
“There you go. Hopefully it’ll stay until you get home.”
Edie picked up the fish and was about to walk away.
But she stopped for a moment before turning back to headbutt the mercenary’s calf.
“See you around, Edie,” Byleth said with a faint trace of a chuckle in her voice and watched the cat finally take her leave.
Now alone once more, Byleth set off to find the butcher. It didn’t take long with the help of the few townsfolk who were awake at the early hour.
The bell at the door jingled sweetly to announce her arrival.
“Be right there!” someone jovially called out from the back room. A few seconds later, a man with sweeping brown hair and a thin mustache appeared and their business conducted. The man, who introduced himself as Alois, commended her for her generous selection of fish.
As he weighed the fish and added up the payment, he dove into several stories of his tireless attempts to fish, lamenting his failures while also expressing an enthusiasm towards the hobby that she hadn’t seen in a long time. She’s sure that had she been anyone else, his storytelling would fall on deaf ears. But she liked that he wasn’t just making small talk with her, so she chimed in with questions and comments of her own.
In the end, he paid a comfortable sum of gold for her haul and even offered to fillet one of the basses for her lunch.
“I heard that you caught the cat the other day,” Alois said, his hands busy with wrapping her fillet.
The mercenary nodded.
“And you didn’t take the wish. I don’t think you know what it is you let slip through your hands, my friend.”
“I’ve learned that things don’t come to you just by wishing for it.”
“Ah, but where’s the fun in that?” he mused. “Divulging in little fantasies like making wishes from time to time is what keeps us going. I dare say that I wouldn’t have met my wife if I turned out as much of a stick-in-the-mud as my father.” He chuckled to himself. “But I will admit that there is a time and place for it, and the world isn’t so forgiving of those having rose-colored lenses. I’ve lived a life on the road myself, you know.” He handed her the fillet.
“What for?” she wondered, taking the fish into her hands.
“Well, what else does a young man in his twenties do when he travels? He searches for a purpose—something to ground him in this world he suddenly finds himself inhabiting all alone.”
Byleth’s gaze fell. Her thumb ran over the paper wrap, crinkling it slightly. “And did you find it here?”
Alois laughed, placing his hand on his hip. “Of course! I believe that I find it every day. I love my wife and our beautiful daughter, I live for every moment we’ve shared and for the ones to come in the future. And it doesn’t just stop there, I try new things to spend my time, I meet new people; why, just today I met a stranger who humored me and my fishing stories on what started as a normal day of work. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.”
Byleth hummed thoughtfully, and allowed herself a small smile. “You make it sound so easy.”
“Oh, it’s certainly not,” Alois digressed. “I consider myself fortunate to have arrived where I am and I often need reminders to keep looking at those special somethings that give me a reason to stay. As difficult as it is to admit, it does take time, and living to only survive day to day does reveal harsh realities. Even so, there’s nothing wrong with taking a moment to believe in a little magic.”
Believe in a little magic?
The only magic she could believe in was the ones that shoot out of enemy mages’ hands, and the few occasions where a priest would offer to heal her wounds.
The butcher waved a hand. “Ah, but take what you will from this talk. I best let you go, otherwise you’d be stuck here all day. My wife can testify that I’ve talked the ears off customers more often than I care to admit.”
Byleth offered him a smile and nodded her head. “Thank you, Alois. I look forward to doing more business before I leave town.”
“Well, you certainly know where to find me, my friend.”
And with that, the mercenary exited the shop and into the Remire streets. The town looked more awake now as its citizens all went about their daily routines. Meanwhile, the mercenary retreated into her thoughts.
The money she earned could easily get her to the next city where hopefully another job will be. She could even leave right now if she wanted to.
But did she?
What does she wish for? Wishing means that she wants something, right? So what does she want?
She wants a nice meal when she’s hungry and a place to sleep every night... but not much else. She wasn’t someone who ‘wants’ often, at least not in abstract terms. Life spent always on the move didn’t have room for that.
While she walked aimlessly, Byleth’s ears perked at the sound of thundering footfalls. A crowd’s worth of them. She caught sight of a familiar fluff of white and glittering silver around its neck, sprinting down the street across from her. As expected, half a dozen people gave chase.
Edie must’ve sensed another pair of eyes on her and she turned in Byleth’s direction. In the brief moment they met gazes, Byleth offered the cat a short wave, as if she were greeting an acquaintance rather than a cat. The chase continued on, leaving the streets quiet once more save for the few people milling about, unfazed by what had just occurred.
“A whole week of this, huh?” Byleth uttered to herself, feeling a short chuckle bubble in her throat. “Wonder what’ll happen.”
It wouldn’t hurt to find out, would it? She can leave when it’s finished.
***
For the remainder of the week, Byleth fell into a routine of getting up at dawn to fish, talking with Alois as he gave her payment for the haul, exploring the town some more and, taking Dorothea’s advice, asked around for tasks to do for the townsfolk for a little bit of gold. By Friday, her name had made its rounds in Remire, though being the stranger who caught the cat on her first try contributed to her reputation around the town. But nonetheless, she liked hearing her name being used by other people that weren’t employers or herself, and in return she learned the names of the people she worked for.
As the days went by, she would catch a glimpse at the ongoing chase for Edie and her wish-granting owner. So far no one had come remotely close to breaking the cat’s stride, let alone even laying hands on her or the key. Though Byleth gave credit for the growing creativity in how the townsfolk went about their attempts. There were days when boxes fell from rooftops to trap the cat or the people combined forces to get the cat down a specific alleyway to corner it.
Oftentimes, Byleth stood outside of the bakery, enjoying her newfound love for saghert and cream, just to wait for Edie’s streak of white fur to blur by after having made her umpteenth escape.
It was sort of comforting having a reliable layout of how she spent her day. There was no urgency to scour for a safe spot for her camp, or hunting on an empty stomach, or strangers to be wary of at every corner.
“So much for staying just a couple days, huh?” Dorothea teased her on the sixth day she paid for her room.
The mercenary didn’t know what to say to that. Instead she slid the payment over the counter and retreated into her room for the remainder of the afternoon. Dorothea later apologized for offending her, but Byleth was hardly slighted by the innkeeper’s remark. In reality, she was starting to like staying here.
“Would it be okay if I did?” she asked the next morning at the lake. Her fishing rod was loose in her grip and Edie at her side, dutifully watching over the dark water. At the question, the cat flicked her violet gaze up at the woman. Byleth didn’t want to think about how this was likely their last morning they would spend together. It was the last day of the contest and with it concluded, Edie would return to her reclusive owner and Byleth would finally depart from Remire.
“I mean, would it be okay if I actually made a life here? Sure, I’ve been doing fine this week, but is this something I can do for the rest of my life?” Byleth continued to rant, not caring that her voice was repelling any fish away from her hook.
She drew a breath, letting wistfulness seep into her next words. “My father talked about wanting to live a quiet life once. He wanted it with my mother more than anything, just a little plot of land with a cottage and some horses, he said. But then she died giving birth to me. After that, being a merc was the only thing he could do. Maybe he thought that a life like that wouldn’t feel right without her, so he just kept moving until he forgot how to sit still. He’s gone now... has been for a while.”
A long silence followed. At this point, Byleth couldn’t care less about the fish that was tugging on her line.
Edie meowed softly, as if coaxing her to talk more about him.
So she did. She never had before, yet she somehow knew where to start.
She talked about how he taught her how to fish and hunt, how to build a campfire from even the smallest leaves and twigs, and how to fight. She recited as best she could the stories he told her around their meager campfire to help distract her from the biting chill around them. And all the while, Edie listened. In the back of her mind, she wondered what she might look like to a stranger passing by. A woman on a fishing dock telling her whole life story to a cat as if they were best of friends.
If it were possible, Byleth could’ve gone on for hours. But somewhere along the way, she ran out of words to say and her vision had gone blurry. She wiped her eyes with the palm of her hand and saw it come away wet with tears. She was crying?
It’s been so long since she’s ever thought about her father, let alone reminisce about their times together. It never truly sunk in just how lonely she’s been all these years.
Edie meowed in concern, rubbing her face against her knee in comfort.
With a heavy sigh, Byleth reeled in her line and set the rod aside to lean back one hand with the other petting Edie, craning her neck towards the pale pink sky as if everything she needed to know would be written in the wisping clouds.
“I guess I took after him, huh?” Byleth choked around the flow of tears. “I don’t think I know how to sit still either. But I think I want to. I think if he was still around he’d tell me to at least try if it made me happy.”
Edie curled into her hip while releasing a loud purr as her eyes slowly blinked shut. Byleth continued to card her fingers through her warm fur, feeling the soothing rumble beneath her fingertips and travel up her arm.
“You’re gonna make me fall asleep looking like that,” the mercenary reprimanded in an uncharacteristically soft voice.
If Edie understood her, she gave no indication and continued her lullaby.
Eventually, Byleth exhaled the tension in her shoulders and laid flat on her back. Her eyes traced patterns in the clouds floating overhead until they gradually grew heavier and heavier. Before she knew it, they fell closed and she felt herself drifting off to the sound of the ever present lapping lake water and the reverb of Edie’s purring.
When she woke up, the sun had risen high in the sky, replacing the pale pink morning with a blue early afternoon. Blinking blurrily, she was met with familiar violet eyes. Edie sat over her, still purring but much softer and barely noticeable had it not been for the short space between them. It was almost enough to lull the mercenary back to sleep.
“Hi, Pretty,” Byleth greeted groggily and petted Edie’s soft head, giving her a scratch at the ears for good measure.
Edie ducked her head away, making her fingertips graze over the silver key around her neck.
Byleth recoiled as if the key was fresh off a hot iron. Her heartbeat spiked with fear that Edie would think that it was on purpose. But before her thoughts could go further into her panic, Edie stepped closer so that the cold metal of the key was pressed firmly against her index finger.
“You... want me to take it?” Byleth asked, uncertainty and disbelief lacing her voice.
Edie answered with another nudge against her finger.
Byleth swallowed. And she gingerly pulled the silver key and lavender ribbon up over Edie’s head.
The cat looked so bare without the little splash of color, but she seemed to hardly mind as she shook her head and the fur at her neck fluffed up.
She turned the key in her hand, admiring the glimmer of sunlight reflecting off what looked to be a double-headed eagle at the bow and the delicate flowers wrapped around the key’s stem. A family seal, Byleth guessed.
“Now what?”
“Mrow.” Edie scampered off suddenly, and Byleth quickly rolled onto her stomach to keep the cat in her line of sight. Edie turned her head to meow at her again while prancing in place before taking off towards the woods.
Shoving herself up to stand, Byleth followed after the cat. They ran deeper into the forests and it was then that Byleth was thankful for Edie’s stark white fur to act as her guide.
Breaking through the treeline, Byleth found herself stumbling into a meadow. Wildflowers and grass that came up to her knees spanned the landscape, and, at its center, stood a small cottage. She sucked in a breath. Was this...?
The tall grass rustled as Edie continued towards the cottage, leaving Byleth to gawk and take slow, reluctant steps forward. As she drew closer, she admired the healthy growth of herbs that filled the front yard along with rows of red carnations. A painting easel with a half finished depiction of the meadow at sunset was set up at the corner of the porch beside a swing bench that swayed in the gentle wind.
“Edie?” she called out when she noticed that the cat had gone missing.
She climbed the steps onto the porch, feeling the wood creak underfoot as she glanced about for any sign of the white cat. But the only thing that awaited her was a simple door with a silver knob and keyhole.
At the sight of the keyhole, an idea came to her and she pulled the key out from her pocket. Her fingers shook as she inserted the key and twisted. The door unlocked with a click.
Is this what she was supposed to do? Was it technically breaking and entering if she was given the key to the cottage?
The door squealed open, revealing a well lived in home. More paintings with varying progresses leaned against walls, vases of flowers stood near windows, and books of art and art supplies littered practically every flat surface. It was quiet too. If it wasn’t for the tea kettle heating on the stovetop in the kitchen, she’d assume that no one was home.
There was a piece of paper tacked up on the wall, a list of some sort from the looks of it. Upon closer inspection, Byleth recognized that it was the fish recipe she gave Edie earlier that week. Somehow, the thought of the woman keeping it was endearing and set off a warmth in her chest.
“Hello?” Byleth hesitantly called out.
“In here,” a woman’s voice answered back from a room in the back of the cottage.
She followed the voice, walking further into the house to finally meet the owner of the home. It was there that she saw a woman seated in an armchair with a book in her lap.
“Hello,” the woman greeted Byleth with a friendly smile. Her light brown hair was worn loose and contrasted against her red and white, collared dress.
Byleth was about to return the greeting, but the words died in her throat. Her gaze had flicked to the woman’s hair, more specifically her hair accessory that hung just above one ear. A lavender ribbon.
She looked at the key’s ribbon in her hand and the ribbon in the woman’s hair. Then the sunlight spilling from the window caught the woman’s eyes, revealing that they were a bright violet. Byleth knew nothing of poetry or of literary prose to describe them, but she knew that they were beautiful, she was beautiful. Breathtaking even.
And she knew those eyes.
“Edie?” she breathed.
The woman laughed nervously and tucked an invisible lock of hair behind her ear. “It’s Edelgard actually.” She gestured to the chair across from her. “Dorothea has an affinity for nicknames.”
“Edelgard...” Byleth parroted as she sunk into the proffered seat. “You can turn into a cat?”
“Only for the contest as I am expected to carry it out every year. I’m sorry that I deceived you, Byleth,” Edelgard bowed her head.
“I don’t feel deceived, I'm just... surprised,” she reassured. Then she held out the key. “You let me take it.”
Edelgard nodded. “Hearing you speak of your life, your father, your indecision of whether or not to stay here... I want to help. And this is the one way I know how.” She clasped her hands together in her lap and fixed Byleth with a determined stare. “If you’ll let me, I can grant you whatever you want. Just name it.” Edelgard cemented.
Byleth said nothing, falling back into the chair with a sharp exhale of disbelief. This must be a dream. She’ll wake up and be back at the dock with Edie sleeping next to her. But when she pinched her arm, she was still inside the cottage of the infamous wish-granting woman she had unknowingly spent all week with.
“Anything?”
“Yes,” came the eager confirmation.
Byleth paused to think, looking more pensive than Edelgard had ever seen her in their short time together. It was understandable of course, after all this was a rare opportunity and required careful consideration.
Then the mercenary sat forward, a small, shy smile pulling at the corner of her lips. Edelgard leaned forward as well, giving the woman her full attention.
“I haven’t eaten anything yet. I’d like it if you could maybe join me for lunch?” Byleth said.
There was a moment of shocked silence. Edelgard’s mouth fell open.
She sputtered an incredulous laugh. “ That’s your wish? I could grant you money for property, or even a job within the town or even the next city over! Why would you wish for something so... mundane?”
“Mundane? Don’t say that about my fishing companion, I really like her company,” Byleth protested.
Edelgard sighed. “I’m sorry. I enjoy your company as well, Byleth, but in all seriousness I truly believe that your wish can be better spent.”
“I just learned that you know all about me and I don’t know anything about you aside from you being able to turn into a cat and that you like watching me fish. I don’t think I’m wasting anything if I want to keep spending time with you and learn more.”
Edelgard’s cheeks pinked and her throat tightened. “I-I see,” she croaked. She cleared her throat. “Even so, I don’t want you to regret your decision. I can only grant one wish to you. Are you sure this is what you want?”
Byleth nodded without hesitation. “I’ll even cook. I have more recipes for fish to share if you’d like.”
The woman buried her face in her hand, smiling like a fool at how this exchange had derailed so completely from how she envisioned it. “Yes that sounds lovely, Byleth. I shall grant your wish.”
It required no magic on her part, no incantations or potion brewing. Instead, all it took was for the beaming mercenary to shoot up from her chair with a hand held out to Edelgard. They returned to the lake to catch their lunch and returned to the cottage for the meal proper.
Byleth relished in the back and forth of the conversation between them while they cooked and sat down to eat. It felt easy and calming, and she smiled fondly at the woman while she went into another story.
She could have wished for money, for property, for a steady job in Remire—all of which would be the step to finally learning how to finally sit still, but there was something more important she had come to want in her time in this town. And as Edelgard giggled at a particularly bad joke she heard from Alois, Byleth felt the Want cement itself within her along with the memory of the woman’s eyes crinkling with mirth and radiant joy that made her heart so full.
She wanted a reason to stay.
Chapter 2
Notes:
Soooo I didn't plan on a second chapter at all. I was open to the possibility, of course but I didn't expect it so soon after posting this fic
Thanks to the commenter who asked for it first and my friends on discord and kacchan for enabling this chapter to be written hahaha. This one is for you guys so I hope that this extra fluff is okay.
As always you can find me on twitter @ashtree111 where I continue to swoon over her imperial majesty and her empress; also where my link for coffee lives
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Tap tap tap. Scrit scrit.
Byleth blinked an eye open at the strange noise. She surveyed the room for the source, but found nothing but silence, only Dorothea humming her usual tune from downstairs.
She closed her eye again, intent on getting a few more minutes of sleep.
Scrit scrit scrit.
She sighed and tossed the blanket away to sit up. It was coming from the window.
Shuffling across the room, she drew the thin curtains and beams of sunlight flooded the room. After a moment of squinting through the harsh light, Byleth finally saw the cause of the strange noise. An easy smile made its way onto her lips as she unlocked the window and swung it open.
“For someone who says she only shapeshifts for the contest, I’ve seen you in this form quite a bit now,” she said to the snow white cat sitting on the window sill. She stepped off to the side and gestured for the cat to enter with a mocking flourish of her hand.
The cat jumped inside and, in midair, changed into a woman with light brown hair and lavender ribbons tied above her ears. The woman stretched her arms over her head, turning to Byleth with a mischievous grin. “What can I say? Being a cat has its uses.”
“Like climbing up a building to wake me up?” Byleth teased, crossing her arms.
“Like climbing up a building to pay you a visit,” Edelgard corrected with a roll of her eyes. “If my company isn’t welcome then I shall just see myself out then.”
Byleth finally broke and chuckled, padding closer to Edelgard. “Your company ‘ not welcome ’? I don’t think I have it in me.”
Edelgard moved forward as well. “Well good because I’d hate to have breakfast by myself after making the trip here.”
The two met in the middle and fell into a warm embrace.
“Morning,” Byleth said into Edelgard’s soft brunette hair, feeling the other woman burrowing into the crook of her neck with a content hum.
“Good morning,” she returned.
Hours later, with stomachs full of breakfast and tea, they arrived hand-in-hand at the meadow that surrounded Edelgard’s cottage. The landscape painting on the porch looked closer to completion than how Byleth first saw it, though it was apparent that Edelgard was taking her time with it.
They settled before the small herb and carnation garden and began pulling at the weeds growing there.
“You don’t have to trouble yourself with this, you know,” Edelgard had said to her the first time Byleth had knelt down to help tend the garden.
“I like it,” Byleth reassured, her focus still on the weeds beneath her. “I’ve never had to take care of anything like this before. It’s nice.”
Needless to say, Edelgard gave her her own spade and gloves after that.
They worked in comfortable quiet, letting the rustle of grass dance in the wind and whistling songbirds in the trees envelop them.
Edelgard stood up to stretch, shaking out her dirtied pants and gloves while staring out at the lush grass field surrounding her home. She drew in a deep breath, eyes falling closed in bliss as the scent of the wildflowers and the warmth of the sun filled her senses.
Byleth looked up from her task with a curious tilt of her head. “Something on your mind?”
“Just enjoying the moment,” she hummed.
The way the woman was basking in the afternoon sun reminded Byleth of how cats often favored sleeping in patches of sunlight. A soft snicker escaped from her before she could stifle it.
“What’s so funny?” Edelgard wondered with a smile of her own.
“Nothing, nothing.” She waved a hand dismissively, but any chance of avoiding the topic was nonexistent after her slip in composure.
Edelgard raised a brow. “It certainly doesn’t sound like nothing, Byleth, you’ve made me curious now.”
A joke about curiosity and cats slammed into the forefront of her mind. She pressed her lips together, exercising all her restraint to cease her laughter. She’s spent way too much time around Alois it seemed.
The curiosity that had glazed Edelgard’s features deepened into furrowed brows, resembling more confusion than anything else. Then, as if a bell went off in her head, Edelgard pieced together what she had said and Byleth’s reaction. Contrary to her current lifestyle, she’s had friends who were, and still are, privy to her other form. Thus she’s very much aware of the many jokes and puns that can be made about cats.
“Byleth,” Edelgard said, her tone lowered and laced with warning.
Swallowing thickly under the woman’s hardened gaze, Byleth shirked off her gloves and took off running through the meadow. Edelgard shifted and quickly gave chase. An ironic turn of events from how the two first met, Byleth mused internally before directing her focus back to running. The tall grass made it harder to make wide strides and to her right she could hear the rustling disturbance within the grass gaining on her.
Then a streak of white pounced, aiming straight for her shoulder. Thanks to her battle-trained reflexes, she twisted in time to catch the airborne cat in her arms. But Edelgard anticipated this, and as soon as the former mercenary had a secure grasp on her, she shifted back into her human form, sending the two of them crashing down into the grass with her on top of Byleth.
A puff of flower petals and pollen kicked up and rained down in their wake, catching the sunbeams just right to almost look like glittering snowfall. But Byleth couldn’t have felt warmer at that moment as they bursted into a fit of giggles despite the rough landing. Byleth had taken worse hits before anyway.
When they finally calmed down, she wrapped her arms tight around the woman above her. After a beat, Byleth raised a hand and carded her fingers through Edelgard’s silken brunette locks.
Edelgard stiffened for a split second at the unexpected touch, but soon melted and burrowed into Byleth’s neck. Coupled with the sun on her back, Edelgard felt the beginnings of drowsiness settle within her.
“This doesn’t excuse you from your little comment,” Edelgard grumbled half-heartedly, her eyes already closing.
“I didn’t even say anything,” Byleth defended, incredulous but no less amused.
“I heard you thinking it.”
That earned a soft chuckle from the former mercenary and she buried her nose into Edelgard’s hair, inhaling the scent of soil and the bergamot tea they had during breakfast. “I’m sorry, I won’t think about it anymore,” she promised.
“Good.”
Neither of them made any effort to stand or remove themselves from their embrace, such a thought was far from their minds with Byleth continuing her ministrations and Edelgard was more than content to fall asleep to Byleth’s steady heartbeat.
It’s moments like this that she realized that she could easily be in her makeshift camp in the middle of the woods, or huddled in a rundown inn in a nameless village had it not been for Edelgard. The former mercenary looked down at the sleeping woman’s face, studying it and committing it to memory. She wished that she had even a shred of Edelgard’s artistic ability so that she may attempt to capture the scene in charcoal or maybe even a painting. But she knew that neither medium could compare to the real thing. And she wouldn’t trade her for anything in the world.
Is this how friends are supposed to feel? The way she thought of Edelgard, especially when they spent time apart, resembled the way her father used to talk about her mother, back when they were young and newly in love. Could that be it?
But before she could even mull over that sudden realization, her mind fell mute as drowsiness weighed over her eyes until they drooped shut.
It wouldn’t be the first time that they napped the afternoon away in the meadow. It certainly won’t be the last.
The next day, Byleth entered the butcher shop with her fish bucket filled with the morning’s haul. Alois was there to greet her and they launched into their usual business talk followed closely by the man’s many many life stories. But she wasn’t completely listening, rather she felt herself drift to thinking about what she’ll do after she was done working for the day. There was one easy answer to that inquiry and it made her sigh warmly.
“You seem happier lately,” Alois suddenly remarked as he stored the new fish away and counted up gold to pay her.
Byleth blinked out of the small reverie that had quietly taken her thoughts. “Do I?”
He barked a laugh. “I certainly think so. You’re a hard woman to read, but I can tell that you’re more at ease than how I first met you: always looking so guarded and at the ready with those swords at your sides. Now you’re staring off into the stars and your blades are gone. Makes me think that there’s someone very special involved.”
Edelgard’s face came to mind, namely her smile. Her sleepy crooked grin from their mornings out on the lake, her grins of satisfaction in the afternoons when she perfected mixing the paint color for her new project.
The day she made her wish felt like a lifetime ago and rather than a few weeks. Byleth couldn’t stop herself from grinning wistfully at the memory.
Seeing this, Alois only chuckled knowingly and said nothing more as he slid the stack of coins over the counter to her.
With her coin purse heavier than she came in she stepped out into the town street and headed towards the bakery for her next daily task of heaving bags of flour and kneading dough for the next four hours.
Someone special . Yes, she can definitely say that Edelgard was special. Her first reliable fishing companion, her first friend...
She looked up from her kneading. “I should thank her somehow,” she said abruptly.
“What was that?” the baker, Mercedes, called back curiously from her icing task.
“I have a friend and I want to thank her.” Saying the word ‘friend’ outloud made her realize that it didn’t feel strong enough, but that was the only word she could think of to use.
Mercedes made a noise of surprise before giggling behind a hand. “A ‘thank-you’ you say? It doesn’t sound like saying it will be enough for you.”
Byleth shook her head, idly dusting her hands of the flour caked in her calloused palms. Just saying it would be easy and she could already see Edelgard shaking her head with a tinkling giggle before saying bemusedly, “Thanks isn’t necessary you know, Byleth.”
No, she needed to do something more than that. Cooking was another answer, but in the month they’ve been together, sharing meals was practically commonplace. This needed to be special.
“Well, let me know if you think of anything, Byleth,” Mercedes offered and returned to icing the cake she was working on, leaving Byleth to mull over idea after idea.
It wasn’t until a customer ordered Mercedes’s signature sagert and cream that Byleth finally got one. The dessert was a newfound favorite of Byleth’s since she arrived in Remire and she was delighted to learn that it was Edelgard’s as well. Though the woman seldom indulged in sweets for some reason.
It took some convincing, but she managed to convince Mercedes to part with the recipe for the dessert and to sell her the ingredients needed and at the end of the day, Byleth’s arms were comfortably sore from the labor and holding a bag with the ingredients. She could smell the fresh peaches and noa fruit syrup wafting from inside.
She made her way through the town, practically dashing through the streets to get to Edelgard’s cottage faster. Her heart thundered in her chest in anticipation at the prospect of seeing her smile with surprise and excitement at eating her favorite dessert. Why hadn’t she thought of this sooner?
All the while she kept her precious cargo close to her chest. Then she felt something nudge against her calf. And another brushing up her knee.
“Hm?”
Byleth glanced down and two cats stared back at her. The one striped with gray and white fur vyed for her attention as it stood up on its hindlegs to meow at her. The second cat with orange fur, weaved between her feet and had a throaty purr. They didn’t possess collars nor did there seem to be any townsfolk frantically searching for them.
Ah, they’re strays. She’s seen a few around town here and there, but these were the first ones to actually walk up to her.
She knelt down and clicked her tongue at the cats. “Hello there,” she said, holding out a finger for them to smell. The cat sniffed it for a moment before rubbing its head along the length of her forearm. All the while its throaty purr continued.
The striped cat propped itself up on Byleth’s knee, its neck outstretched and nose twitching in the direction of the wrapped fish in her free hand.
“Oh, so this is what you’re after,” Byleth smirked. The cat meowed loudly at her with the orange cat joining in as well. She lifted the bag higher and out of the way of the inquisitive felines.
“They’re not for you,” she said in between laughs and could only give the strays pats and scratches on the head.
Amidst the chorus of mews from the strays, Byleth’s ears perked at the sound of an irritated growl. A cat’s growl. The strays stopped what they were doing, turning their attention to the intruder and Byleth did the same, though she had a feeling what it was. Or rather, who it was.
The snow white cat stalked forward, her lips curled with the long, low growl that gradually grew into a sharp hiss. Her tail was puffed out with the hairs along her arched spine spiked. Byleth has seen many angry cats in her travels, but somehow it alarmed her to see Edelgard in such a state.
“Edelgard?” the former mercenary tentatively called.
She ignored Byleth, her attention fixed solely on the other two cats. She stepped closer, growling and hissing at them and baring her fangs. The orange cat fled immediately, leaving the striped one to fend for itself, who looked all too reluctant to fight but if its matching puffed tail and arched back was any indication, it will.
Not wanting this to devolve into a fight, Byleth quickly moved to kneel in front of Edelgard. “Hey now,” Byleth gently said to her.
Edelgard’s hissing ceased as soon as she spoke. Her tail lowered and her back relaxed as she stared up at the woman with wide violet eyes. It was subtle, but it sounded like she was purring. Purring as if she wasn’t just about to attack another cat.
Meanwhile, the striped stray took the opportunity to retreat.
“What’s gotten into you?” Byleth said, carefully creeping closer. She held a hand out, palm facing up.
Edelgard stopped purring, her eyes blinking as if in surprise before she curled in on herself. Even as Byleth coaxed her, she didn’t move a single inch. But she didn’t shy away from Byleth’s hand, allowing her to smooth the last of her furred spikes down.
She frowned at the unusually silent cat. “Edelgard? What’s wrong?”
She knew that the shapeshifter couldn’t answer, not while in her cat form nor could she change back without attracting the attention of the townsfolk. Still, she asked the question because it was the only thing she could think to say and she wanted to pull Edelgard out of whatever negative mood she was in. But nothing she did elicited a reaction, no purring when she scratched at the base of her tail or behind her ears, not even a chirping mew to let her know that she was listening.
As a last ditch effort, Byleth scratched under Edelgard’s chin and asked, “Want to go home, Edelgard?” She kept her voice quiet.
Finally, Edelgard nudged her head against her hand in response. Then she took her sleeve in her teeth and pulled for her to follow. Letting the cat guide her, Byleth soon saw what it was Edelgard wanted her to see. Left on the floor was a bundle of flat paper wrappings, which in itself wouldn’t be remarkable, but Byleth recognized the shape and where the paper had come from.
Smiling warmly at the shapeshifter, Byleth picked up the items before delicately lifting her into her arms. “And what were you doing at the butcher’s huh?” she asked rhetorically while nuzzling against the soft snow white fur, hoping that it would lift the shapeshifter’s spirits, even a little.
Edelgard gave a small mew, more of a squeak than anything and made to burrow further into Byleth’s arm, obscuring her face.
Byleth kissed the top of the cat’s head and began the trip back to the cottage. When she arrived, she fished out her key from her pocket and entered. Edelgard squirmed out of her hold and dashed under the armchair. She immediately wanted to try and coax Edelgard out of hiding so that they could talk. But Byleth told herself to let her be, and trust that she would come out on her own terms.
In the meantime, she laid out Edelgard’s freshly fillet fish along with her ingredients for saghert and cream. With a proper kitchen, Byleth’s fish dishes that she’s grown up making tasted leagues better. Though she’s sure the fact that she wasn’t just cooking for herself anymore also contributed to this. This wouldn’t have been possible if she hadn’t met Edelgard.
It was at that reminder that she lathered the fish with oils and herbs in earnest and ready to put them to flame. Afterwards, she got to work on the cobbler dessert. Occasionally she snuck glances over at the still transformed woman where only her tail was visible from beneath the armchair.
“Are you hungry, Edelgard?” Byleth asked while she switched between mixing ingredients and slicing the peaches.
A muffled meow answered her.
I hope that’s a yes . “I’m making saghert and cream. Mercedes gave me the recipe today. Hopefully my time at the bakery means I can make good sweets.” Her eyes fell on the mixing spoon peeking up from the rim of the bowl. “I have some batter here, do you want to lick the spoon?” she offered, thinking that it would entice Edelgard to change back.
She only received another muffled meow.
Byleth sighed through her nose. The conversation reminded her of how they first met. At the time, even though it was entirely one-sided, Byleth felt that she could parse out what Edelgard was trying to say, or rather, she imagined what she was saying. At the time, Edelgard was simply Edie the Cat and imagining a conversation had little consequence.
But now she was at a loss.
The image of an angry Edelgard, even in cat form, worried her greatly and she wished that she would change back and talk to her. What had caused her so much distress? Did she have bad experiences with those particular strays? Was it a territorial thing meant to be upheld? Any and all guesses were practically on the table when there was concern brewing within her, and it gave Byleth a headache thinking about them all.
With the cobbler baking nicely in the oven and the fish was sizzling, it was then that she felt a rumbling purr travel up her leg. Glancing down, she beamed down at Edelgard who had finally come out of hiding.
But her smile dropped into one of sadness and concern. “I’m not mad about what happened if that’s what you think. But I’m worried about you though, is there something I can do?”
The shapeshifter thought for a moment, her tail swishing behind her. Then she stood up on her hindlegs and looked to Byleth with dilated violet eyes, asking a silent question.
Taking her best guess, Byleth set down her cooking utensil and knelt down with the intention of picking her up, but instead Edelgard hopped onto her shoulder.
“Whoa!” Startled, Byleth laid a steadying hand and helped her adjust into a comfortable position. They’ve never done this before, but they worked together to find her balance and soon Edelgard was purring contentedly with her body wrapped around Byleth’s neck like a shawl. She relished being close to the woman, and this way she did so without taking her ability to use her hands.
“Comfy?” Byleth asked, reaching up to scratch Edelgard’s ear, careful not to accidentally poke her eye.
Edelgard rubbed against Byleth’s jaw and neck in response.
“Don’t get too used to it,” she warned lightly. “Dinner is almost done.”
As she made the final touches on the meal, she was mindful of keeping Edelgard steady on her shoulder, careful not to jostle her with sharp movements. Soon, everything was set. The cobbler was out of the oven and cooling down, and the plates were filled with the fish and a few steamed vegetables that Byleth was able to scrounge up.
Edelgard changed back as Byleth sat down at the table, but she didn’t say anything. Her eyes were downcast with her mouth pulled into a frown. When she took her own seat adjacent to Byleth, she wordlessly picked at her food with her fork.
“These fish are a good size,” Byleth complimented to reassure her that they didn’t have to talk about what happened just yet. “I don’t remember catching this kind recently though.”
Edelgard tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and finally raised her eyes to meet Byleth’s. “I tried my hand at fishing after you left this morning,” she confessed. “I wanted to surprise you.”
And she was indeed surprised. She grinned widely at her companion, elation warming her heart. “That’s amazing, you did very well for your first time. Thank you, Edelgard.”
“Praise isn’t necessary,” she waved off, smiling for the first time and, though however small, it relieved Byleth to see it.
But after a few moments of silent eating, Edelgard sighed. “I’m sorry for my sour mood.”
“I’m not upset, Edelgard,” Byleth repeated her earlier sentiment. “I’m worried. What happened back there?”
Her fingers curled tighter around the fork, irritation knitting her brows together. “It’s ridiculous and immature of me. I wish it never happened.”
“You don’t grant your own wishes?” she joked dryly, earning a scoff from her companion.
“As tempting as it is, I can’t go through life taking shortcuts like that. I understand that I have to face the consequences of what I’ve done today. I can’t begin to express how sorry I am.”
“Edelgard,” Byleth prodded gently, scooting ever so slightly forward in her seat, “you’re saying a lot of words. But what’s bothering you?”
“I...” Edelgard winced, and braced herself for her next words. “I was jealous.”
Byleth frowned. “Jealous...? Of the other cats?”
“Yes,” she sighed. “It’s pathetic and the catalyst is cats of all things. They’re cats, there’s nothing wrong with paying them some attention. But yes I was jealous. After spending the past month with you, I’ve come to treasure your company. I caught extra fish with the intent of making you a meal as thanks for being a part of my life. Then I saw the strays with you and... my instincts got the best of me. I don’t want you to think that I see you as a possession, because I don’t. I’m just... always aware of how fragile relationships can be.”
A pause fell over them. Edelgard’s shoulders were noticeably tense and her grip on the fork turned her knuckles white.
What sort of life did she lead before they met? Byleth couldn’t help but wonder. After a time, Byleth drew a breath and spoke, hoping with every fiber of her being that it will be the right thing to say. “I can’t say that I know how that felt for you. I’ve never really had friends when I was a merc so I don’t know what it’s like to be afraid to lose one to someone else like that.
“But,” she reached over and brushed her fingers over Edelgard’s hand that threatened to bend her fork, and felt the woman’s grip relax, “I’ve learned to be thankful for a lot of things nowadays, things that I don’t want to lose. And I’m very thankful for you. So, I know that it won’t be that easy for me to forget someone like you, Edelgard. My first friend and... maybe someone even more.”
The fork clattered loudly against the plate in Edelgard’s shock at the confession, making both women flinch. A beat passed and they devolved into a fit of laughter. Already the air around them felt lighter and familiar, a welcome reprieve.
“You truly mean it?” Edelgard said once they had calmed down.
Byleth nodded and, to help prove her point, she rose from her seat and beelined towards the cooled cobbler. With the same flourish she’s seen from Mercedes, she finished the dessert with its signature noa fruit cream and added some extra peach slices on top. It wasn’t the prettiest thing to look at compared to the baker’s keen eye for details, but if the smell was anything to go by, it should taste just fine.
However when she presented the dish to Edelgard, her confidence wavered a bit, rendering her to grin sheepishly and speak in a nervous voice. “Thank you, Edelgard.”
Edelgard buried her face in her hands, which did little to hide the rising blush in her face and tips of her ears. “I’m the one who should be saying that,” she grumbled.
“You can by taking the first bite.” Byleth dug the fork into the cobbler and held out the morsel out for Edelgard to take.
The action made the woman retreat further into her chair as she was practically glowing with her blush. “You don’t have to do that!”
Byleth chuckled. “But I want to. Please?”
While Byleth would be considered more of a cat-person, she had somehow mastered the art of wearing the most potent puppy eyes Edelgard had ever bore witness to.
She felt her will crumble beneath them. Pushing through the remaining shreds of her inhibitions, she ate the proffered serving. Sweetness blossomed over her tongue, the richness of the cream and the softness of the cake made her teeth tingle and through her jaw. It was almost too much to bear after so long of not having the dessert. Now coupled with the fact that Byleth was the one to make it for her... She was practically moved to tears.
Byleth saw them brimming in Edelgard’s violet eyes and she panicked. “Is it okay? I forgot to add something, didn’t I.” She set the plate on the table. “I’m sorry I’m not much of a baker I—”
Her rambling was cut off when she felt lips pressed against hers. Her eyes widened in surprise. Then relaxed as warmth and the residual sweetness of the cobbler filled her senses. She didn’t realize that her eyes had fallen closed until they eventually pulled away.
Their breaths came out in equally shaking puffs, their foreheads remained pressed together and their lips were mere inches apart.
“I think it’s wonderful,” Edelgard breathed with a crooked smile. “The best I’ve had in a while. What do you think?”
Byleth licked her lips, tasting a bit of the cream there, and gave a breathless smile in return. “I think I need another try.”
Edelgard was more than happy to oblige.
Notes:
As always you can find me on twitter where I continue to swoon over her imperial majesty and her empress; also where my link for coffee lives
Chapter 3
Summary:
Byleth has a rare nightmare and Edelgard is there to help.
Notes:
Uhhh.... so this idea wouldn't leave me alone and now here's a chapter heh heh
It's shorter than the previous chaps but I hope you guys enjoy
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Byleth was no stranger to nightmares, or at least, she thinks she wasn’t—she doesn’t remember what she’s dreamed of in the past, let alone what bad dreams would rob her of the little sleep she afforded herself while traveling in between jobs.
After settling down in Remire, nightmares were the furthest things from her mind, not when it was filled with the comforts of fishing and baking for a living during the day, and spending many of her evenings reading or relaxing in the meadow with Edelgard.
So why was she in the middle of a battleground instead of her bed at Dorothea’s inn? Looking about, ignoring the din of battle cries and the shrill of metal blades, Byleth assumed it to be just another fight with bandits she’s handled in the past.
But then she noticed how the ground underfoot was wet and muddy from the heavy rainfall, and noticed how the sword in her hand wasn’t the same one she’s used before retiring it since living in Remire. It was newer with the edges missing the usual notches and dents of combat. She looked up from the blade just in time to see a familiar clomping of hooves and a blur of brown and silver. The armored horse and its rider weaved through the fray with powerful ease with the rider jabbing his lance with masterful poise.
Then everything clicked into a heartstopping realization. She knew who the rider was, and she knew exactly where she was. Or rather, when she was.
“Papa?” she whimpered after the rider and felt her feet carry her through the all too familiar scene. Her father eliminated enemy after enemy, blocking and striking in a deadly rhythm that only he could hear. This memory had been so locked so far away in the recesses of her mind and for so long, it was a wonder how she was able to recall it with such clarity.
And thus, she knew what would happen next, or at least, what she’s believed to have happened next. In the real world, she wasn’t there to see him die. She was only focused on getting the job done, unaware that her father was dying only a few yards away from where she was laying waste to her enemies. By the time she had realized what had happened, it was too late to save him.
But in the dream, she watched it all. She watched helplessly as the arrow, from an archer unknown, lodged itself deep into Jeralt’s chest. He fell from his horse with a pained groan, crashing to the muddied earth in a heap. Then it all went quiet. No more shouts for blood, or screams of agony. Even the rain stopped. It was just her and her father.
On shaking legs, Byleth closed the distance between them until she was looking down at Jeralt. Despite it being a dream, her chest felt heavy and unbearably tight.
The deep scar that marred his face was the first thing she saw, but the rest of his features were either blurred or unrecognizable. She panicked. What did he look like? It hasn’t been that long, has it? She has to remember. She focused on his features as hard as she could and slowly his blond beard flecked with gray returned, the warmth of his brown eyes stared into her blue ones, and his signature haircut with the single braid was as choppy as ever.
“Sorry, kid. Looks like—” Jeralt coughed. “Looks like I have to leave you now.”
His deep voice reverberated through her skull. Did he always sound like that? Was she forgetting how her father’s voice was too?
She couldn’t say anything. All she could do was to kneel down beside him and take his hand into hers. They were cold. Like she was holding snow.
Through his sharp wince, he smiled up at her. “You’re happier now aren’t you, kid. Found yourself a nice place to settle down?”
She didn’t question how he would know that. Instead, she wanted to tell him all about Remire, about Dorothea and Alois and Mercedes and the stories they’ve shared with her. She wanted to tell him about all the fish she caught at the lake and how he would love to see it and how she’s learned to bake sweet things that’d probably make his teeth rot, but saghert and cream was the best of them all. More than anything, she wanted to tell him about Edelgard and how full her heart feels whenever she’s around her. She wanted to tell him about her and ask if this is what he felt when her mother was alive, if this was what he meant when he said that he wanted a quiet life with her. But words never truly work in dreams, especially not in the way she wanted them to.
In the end, she only nodded mutely.
Jeralt relaxed, his expression far less pained and more... at peace. “That’s good,” he breathed. “I wish I could’ve given you that life sooner. But I’m glad you found it yourself.”
Her grip on his hand tightened as she felt his grow slack. There was a burning haze behind her eyes, blurring her vision, but she blinked through them lest she waste a single second not memorizing her father’s features. She didn’t want to forget a single detail.
The tightness in her chest made it harder and harder to breathe. It felt like she was about to just burst at the seams.
But then a rumbling grew inside her. And slowly the tightness loosened its grip on her. Distantly, she remembers having felt this before, though she couldn’t place what it reminded her of. As the rumbling continued, the dream began to fray and her mind regained consciousness.
“I’m proud of you...” Jeralt’s voice fell faint. “Take care of yourself now, okay?”
As his eyes drifted closed, Byleth’s eyes snapped open and a gasp escaped her lips. Slowly and blearily, she registered the ceiling of her room, the stiff mattress beneath her, and the thin beams of the rising sun peaking through the curtains. Even more clearly, though, was the rumble still present in her chest. Not only that, despite the sheets haphazardly strewn tangled around her legs, she felt warm.
With every inhale she took, she felt a soft tuft brush beneath her chin. Only then did her sleep-addled brain finally realize who was resting on her chest and why the steady rumbling had felt so familiar
Edelgard must’ve come in through the window for her usual morning visit. Even though winter had its icy grip on the land, Edelgard still made a point to visit and so Byleth kept the window unlatched for the shapeshifter to crawl inside and escape the cold. While she had mentioned that Edelgard could probably just come in through the front door, she was accused of not appreciating the dramatics.
With a soft smile, Byleth raised a hand and carefully petted Edelgard’s head, threading her fingers through the soft scruff of her neck as the remnants of the dream still lingered behind her eyes. The cat raised her head at the touch, blinking at Byleth with glowing violet eyes before curling deeper into her neck and purring louder. With a wry chuckle, Byleth continued to smooth the length of Edelgard’s back, giving her an occasional scratch behind the ears until the remains of the dream receded and she sighed heavily through her nose.
Some time later, Edelgard slinked off of Byleth’s chest and plonked onto the wood floor where she transformed into her human form. Instead of climbing back into bed, she knelt down at the bedside and took Byleth’s hand in hers.
“Are you alright?” Edelgard whispered as she rubbed her thumb over the woman’s knuckles.
Byleth nodded. “Thanks to you.”
Edelgard hummed sadly, “I’ve never seen you have nightmares. Do you want to talk about it?”
In all honesty, she wanted to pull Edelgard onto the bed and not have to say anything at all—just burrow into the woman’s uncanny warmth and dream pleasant dreams knowing that Edelgard would be there when she woke up. But the sight of those violet irises so laced with worry gave her pause.
She bit the corner of her bottom lip and let her eyes drift up towards the ceiling for a moment before she pushed herself to sit up properly. “I... I dreamt of the last time I saw my father.” While she described the rest of her dream, Edelgard listened intently and gave her hand a light squeeze whenever she stopped to collect her thoughts.
Finally, Byleth finished and the two fell into silence filled with only the sound of the winter winds buffeting against the window.
“I remember you’ve mentioned your father once before. When we first met, if I’m correct,” Edelgard said, unsure of what else to say.
“I never had much reason to before, I guess.” Byleth curled her fingers into the sheets. “I don’t talk about him enough, I think I’m starting to forget things about him. Would he really be proud of me for being happy but at the same time I’ve been letting myself forget him?”
Edelgard moved to sit on the bed and brought her hand up to stroke Byleth’s cheek. “We can’t help how fickle memories become over time, Byleth. But I’ve learned that it’s how the person makes you feel that remains with you no matter how much time has passed.”
The woman considered the sentiment, but Edelgard could see that it wasn’t enough. She can understand the anxiety that comes with forgetting someone so important. The lingering regret in her lover’s heart made her own ache in turn. From the moment she saw Byleth tossing and turning in her sleep, her face screwed with an invisible pain, she wanted nothing more than to take it all away and cast it into the abyss, never to be seen again. Alas, that wasn’t in her power...
But she had another idea.
“Byleth, do you have any spare pieces of paper?” she asked, keeping her voice quiet and gentle.
The question caught Byleth off guard, but she thought about it regardless. “I think so. They’d be in my travel pack if I did. Why?”
Instead of answering, Edelgard made her way over to the hearth where the wood from last night’s fire laid blackened and charred. After a few moments of perusing, she picked out a piece of charcoal that had the sharpest point before going over to Byleth’s travel bag where she managed to find a decent sized paper scrap left over from a shopping list. Byleth’s messy but still legible scrawl took up half the front of the page, leaving the back completely blank.
“May I use this?” Edelgard asked, holding up the paper for her to see.
“Go ahead. What are you doing with it though?”
“Well, my specialty mostly lies in landscapes, but I’ve sketched portraits in the past. I think now is as good a time as any to try again.” Edelgard pulled up a chair from the corner of the room and sat herself down once more at the bedside, angling herself in a way that would allow Byleth to watch as she worked.
Byleth’s eyes widened. “Edelgard, you really don’t have to—”
“Perhaps, but I want to,” she interjected and readied the charcoal in her fingers. “To the best of your recollection, what was his general head shape?”
The woman swallowed thickly, digging for a memory of her father when she had a good look at his face. She was always looking up at him given how tall he was compared to her. He would often tease that she inherited her mother’s height through and through.
“His head was long, I guess. Kinda square because of his jaw. He had a beard too—wait is that going too fast?”
Edelgard had been sketching as she spoke and looked up from her work, giving her a reassuring smile. “Not at all. Let the description flow, I’ll ask for repeats when I need them.”
With a shaky exhale, Byleth dug for more memories and recited any and all details she could glean from them. From his scarred face from battles even he doesn’t remember, his broad shoulders that reminded her of a bear when she was younger, the hard set of his jaw that was like a wound trap whenever he conducted business, the way he would loosen it whenever they had moments of reprieve, or how the first time she ever saw him smile was when she asked about her mother. That small, wistful smile that seemed to smooth the weariness and battleworn features from his face.
Occasionally, Byleth would glance over and correct a detail or two, to which Edelgard took in stride. At some point, though, she ran out of memories to tell and only the sound of charcoal scratching over paper filled the lull. That left Byleth with the freshly unearthed fragments of time and stew in the nostalgia that they brought along with them.
“Finished,” Edelgard announced with a satisfied exhale. Her fingers were blackened from the charcoal but she hardly seemed to mind as she held the drawing out for Byleth to take.
Even at a side glance, Byleth knew that the sketch was perfect, making her heart leap to her throat in an instant. Had the subject been anyone else, she would quip to Edelgard that she can draw portraits beautifully and that she should give herself more credit. But beholding the drawing that bore her father’s likeness right down to the stray beard whisker, she couldn’t muster a single word.
Yet the details alone weren’t what truly rendered the former mercenary speechless. No—it was the expression that Edelgard chose to give Jeralt: the small, wistful smile he so scarcely wore, but it was her favorite smile of his. Now it was immortalized in the drawing.
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes.
“What do you think?” Edelgard asked, wringing her hands nervously.
She didn’t answer. She simply set the picture aside and reached over to pull Edelgard from her chair and onto the bed. The shapeshifter squeaked in surprise and instinctively wrapped her arms around Byleth.
“Thank you,” Byleth said, her voice muffled from her spot in the junction between Edelgard’s neck and shoulder.
She chuckled and carded her fingers through Byleth’s hair. “You’re very welcome.”
The two shifted together until they were laying in a familiar and warm embrace.
“I wish you two could meet,” Byleth mused into Edelgard’s silken brown locks.
“Do you think he would have liked me?” Edelgard couldn’t help but ask, to which Byleth nodded.
“I think he would’ve, yes. He’d say that you made him look too soft in the drawing,” she laughed. Then paused. “What would you say to him?”
Edelgard hummed thoughtfully, but the answer was obvious. She buried her face deeper into the crook of Byleth’s neck as she said, “I would thank him.”
Byleth furrowed her brows. “Thank him? For what?”
“For you,” came the simple answer.
“O-oh.” So simple, and yet it sent Byleth’s heart into a frenzy. It echoed through her body where it met Edelgard’s ear where it was pressed into her collarbone. It'd be easy to make another teasing remark, but she was more than content to melt into the sound as it brought a wide smile onto her lips.
Notes:
As always you can find me on twitter @ashtree111 where no cat post that crosses my tl is left unretweeted

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