Chapter Text
4 Guardian Moon, 1206
“Hey has anyone else ever notice that there’s something odd about our birthdays?” Shiida, tired of her board game with Avel, asked the others.
Rodrigue looks up from his book. “What do you mean?”
Shiida sits up from the floor, stretching her arms.
“Well think about it. They’re all really close together. Rody, Edel, and mother all have birthdays in the Horsebow Moon. The twins’ birthday is in the Wyvern Moon. Gery and I have birthdays during the Red Wolf Moon. And father’s closes the year out in the winter.”
“Yeah, now that you mention it, almost all of us were born in the autumn months,” mused Avel, absorbed with planning his strategy, “But so what, what’s so weird about that?”
“Well come on. Isn’t that very unlikely?” she asked, vexed. “Six siblings and not one of us was born in the spring or the summer?”
“Well..” Rodrigue scratched his head. Annoyed at her brother’s response, Shiida redirected her attention.
“What do you think mother?”
Sitting near the fire place, rocking her youngest child in her arms, their mother gave a peculiar smile. “Hmm… I’ve never noticed.”
Unsatisfied, Shiida rolls her eyes and returns to her game. A few weeks had passed since the Anniversary of Garreg Mach’s completion and as per tradition, the royal family had traveled to Fhirdiad to oversee their duties to north. With the heavy storms fast approaching, Kain and Geralt took the opportunity to go out training with their father. The others, meanwhile, chose to rest inside to avoid the rising snow. With Edel gently sleeping on her chest, Byleth looked out at the snow and smiled, reminiscing on pleasant memories.
Guardian Moon, 1188
After much fierce debating, the Royal Committee agreed to move the new capital of Fódlan to the center of the continent near Garreg Mach. The wide continent and treacherous paths made it difficult to travel in the north, particularly during the winter seasons, and it also allowed for the former Empire and Alliance territories to hold more political footing in the new government.
However, many in the Kingdom longed to see their monarch return to the north. His new duties forced the King to travel all over the continent while his busy wife attended church affairs. From the Blue Sea Moon to the end of the Ethereal Moon, the Archbishop lived in the Central Church and oversaw the two largest holidays: the Goddess Rite of Rebirth and the Anniversary of the Founding of Garreg Mach. There wasn’t much time for the royal couple to spend together.
As a means of respite and to pacify Kingdom traditionalists, the King and Archbishop decided after the celebration of the Founding of Garreg Mach to travel north to Fhirdiad for the winter.
As a mercenary, she and her father traveled to the Kingdom many times and during the war, she spent a brief period of time in the capital of Fhirdiad. For Byleth, this was her first extended stay.
After the war, she and Dimitri proposed to each other immediately yet the political climate forced them to put their wedding off. There were still so many duties they had to attend to- laws to rewrite, treaties to fill. Both of them had separate coronations and their work forced them to different parts of the continent. If they were lucky, they managed to sneak in a week, maybe two, where they could have some quiet time to themselves. Unfortunately, those moments disappeared far too quickly.
It was a trying period. Byleth, especially, had to rework many of the old Church doctrines to create the peace she envisioned. Changing the hearts and minds of the Central Church was relatively easy- many of them had witnessed her resolve during the Five Year War. The Western Church and Eastern Church, on the other hand, were slower to change. Still reliant on the nobles in the former Alliance territory, the Eastern Church struggled to provide support to the Central Church and lacked a strong presence. The Western Church, frustrated from years of purging and mistreatment under Rhea’s rule, were especially resistant to her new reforms.
Finally, after a lengthy engagement, the King of Faerghus and the new Archbishop were wed during the Garland Moon at Garreg Mach. A grand occasion, the townsfolk celebrated for days with noble and commoner alike given equal footing. Many of her former students attended, including the new King of Almyra and the new Queen of Brigid. Though, with a heavy heart, she remembered the students who couldn’t make it. The ones who had long past this mortal world.
The political structures within Fódlan were still a new tribulation for her- she envied how Dimitri naturally responded to his duties. Then again, he did spend much of his life training to become a monarch. Even five years isolated and fighting couldn’t remove those skills from him.
Five years…
When they took back Fhridad, Dimitri had many fears about his people accepting him as king. Those fears quickly dissipated when he saw his people cheer for him. The people revered him as a Savior- a lone knight who selflessly fought against the Empire and corrupt Kingdom forces until he reunited with his army and the Church. He hated those stories about himself, felt they ignored his monstrosity and the period where he was ‘more beast than man’.
For Byleth, it filled her heart with gratitude. Dimitri managed to stay alive during that dark time. Alone and hunted- his own kingdom betrayed him yet he survived all that. Even when he was trapped in his own darkness, almost insane, there were signs that the old Dimitri still existed.
For all of his threats, he never attacked his friends. He still showed affection, however slight, to the orphans at the monastery. When they found Dedue, Dimitri looked more at peace than he had for months. It took the aftermath of the Battle at Gondor and Rodrigue’s passing, for Dimitri to finally return to his old self.
No, perhaps that’s not correct. The old Dimitri always had an underlying darkness. She saw it in him from the first moment they met. Unchecked, it almost destroyed him. Now, his sincerity shined. Noble and just, despite his moments of vulnerability and his devotion for others was palpable. Naturally, his people felt it.
Faerghus adored their King. Perhaps a bit too much.
“Have you heard rumors of the new Archbishop?”
“How she never smiles? I know, it’s so creepy.”
“Where did she even come from anyways? Wasn’t she born a commoner?”
“Archbishop and the Queen? No one person should have that much power. What was his Majesty thinking?”
”I heard that Lady Rhea heavily favored her back when she just a professor.”
“Say, she kind of looks like Lady Rhea, doesn’t she? You don’t think-?”
“Nonsense, Lady Rhea would never involve herself in something so crass. The new Archbishop on the other hand-“
“They say she used to kill people for money.”
“Some say she has the face of a demon.”
These rumors appeared everywhere in Castle Fhirdiad. From the nobility to the castle maids, the residents didn’t hold the new Archbishop in high regard. During her mercenary days, she had heard those types of comments from people outside of her father’s company.
On some level, she couldn’t blame them. To an outsider, the Archbishop marrying the King seemed like a political ploy for the Church to gain more power. A former mercenary with odd origins and no formal training in the teachings of Seiros suddenly taking over the Church put many of the faithful at ill-ease. And most days, she still struggled with expression. She supposed it made her appear very cold.
None of those comments bothered her. The comments regarding Dimitri and Rhea, however, caused her insides to twist with disgust.
Making her way down the reception hall, the laughter of children filled the air. Kingdom youths playfully flocked towards the entrance, determined to outshine each other. At the center sat her husband. Popular with both the monastery and Kingdom youths, King Dimitri advocated for improving the lives of children in Fódlan, especially orphans from the war.
Recently, he had taken to the habit of pulling his hair back, leaving a few locks forward to distract from his eyepatch. Somehow, Byleth found that it made him more dashing.
While he patted the head of a young girl with scabby knees, Byleth approached. “Do you have a spare moment?”
“What do you need, love?”
“I was wondering if you would be available for a quick spar.” The day’s duties had ended and she felt lethargic.
He smiled. “Of course.”
“Can we watch, your Majesty?” Interjected a small Duscar boy.
“Please, please?” Begged the young girl.
“Alright, alright little ones.”
As they made their way to the training grounds, Byleth spied several maids whispering amongst themselves. She resisted the urge to wince. The sight of the King and Archbishop sparring in front of babes was sure to start tongues wagging.
“It’ll be a light match,” beamed Dimitri, tossing a training sword to her. “No need for armor or the like.” She nodded.
Eyeing him carefully, she waited for the first move. Suddenly he lunged. She dodged as the lance struck the ground. Dimitri’s technique gave him an advantage with his overpowered blows but Byleth was quick and flexible. Her small stature made it easy to avoid his attacks and smuggle in some quick hits but his defense was impeccable and no blow she landed connected. Undistracted with the cheers in the background, Dimitri and Byleth fiercely continued their duel.
After several minutes, Byleth realized that stamina, not skill, would determine the outcome of this fight. She needed to gamble if she was to get the upper hand. With a quick thrust, she pushed towards his right side to hit him in his blind spot. He quickly raised up his lance to defend but it was too late. She hit him with her sword and he cried out.
She turned to him. From the angle she approached and the way he blocked, the sword veered off its intended path and managed to slice through cloth and cut the skin on his arm.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah I’m fine. It’s just a scratch,” she nodded and unleashed a healing spell on his open wound. As the warmth enveloped him, he chuckled. “I guess that round goes to you, my beloved.”
The cut closed, leaving an irritated red mark in its place. The prominent tear on his shirt caught her eye.
“This shirt will need to be repaired,” she said simply. “Let me fix it.”
“One of the maids can tend to it. You don’t have to,” uttered Dimitri, his cheeks flushed at the offer.
“I want to. Can you change?” Understanding that he couldn’t change his wife’s mind, he nodded and complied. Bidding farewell to the youths, Dimitri left the training grounds. The children talked excitedly amongst themselves about the thrilling duel that they had witnessed. The adults, on the other hand, saw the duel as something else entirely.
“Did you see that? What a brute.”
“She had no reaction to injuring his Majesty."
“What was she called again when she was a mercenary? The Ashen Demon? It certainly fits.”
She ignored them as she placed the training weapons away. She didn’t want them to sour her good mood. Suddenly she felt a small tug on her cape.
“Um, Archbishop?” One of the Kingdom youths spoke to her, nervously he twisting his hands. “Can you, um, teach me to use a sword like that?”
“Yeah! Yeah! That was great!”
“The way you fought was so fierce! You and His Majesty were like legendary knights!”
Legendary knights? Well given they were both crest-bearers and her fusion with Sothis, perhaps the comparison was apt.
She looked at their beaming faces. During the war, Dimitri had described a situation where some monastery orphans tried to attack him. The very same children they had tried to train for self-defense quickly turned on him for revenge. Time misconstrued good intentions. Edelgard’s good intentions caused a massive war. Rhea’s good intentions created a system of inequality and half truths. And no matter how hard she tried, she knew people could misuse or misunderstand hers and Dimitri’s actions.
Still, if Fódlan was to have a future, she needed to try. If she couldn’t change the hearts of adults, she might have a chance changing the hearts of the next generation. She agreed and the youths cheered.
Over the next week, Fhirdiad experienced its worst blizzard in over half a century. A thick, white blanket covered the Kingdom capital. With travel severely limited, the castle residents were stuck inside its sturdy walls, though some areas of the castle adapted better to the cold than others.
When Byleth awoke, she experienced a terrible chill. The fire she created reduced to embers and it needed a restart. She turned over to find her husband missing.
Many nights, Dimitri still struggled sleeping. The nightmares were so powerful, so vivid, he would jolt from bed shaken and upset. Some nights, she could soothe him and persuade him back to sleep. The worst nights, he was inconsolable and would use the occasion to train or focus on work. Most nights, Dedue accompanied him but some evenings he'd wander on his own. He claimed that he didn’t want to disturb anyone but it never gave her peace of mind.
Since coming to Fhirdiad, his nightmares had only gotten worse. Perhaps this castle brought back too many memories. After much persuasion, he agree on returning before daybreak but Byleth found that he struggled to keep his promise.
She frowned as she tried to kindle the fire. The embers kept dying out. Not even her fire spells could light the coals. She searched, looking for more fuel to add. Then she felt a sharp wind.
She found a hole imbedded in the wall behind the fire place. The high winds prevented the fires from growing as well as suck away any heat. She groaned. It was too late in the evening to fix. With no other options, Byleth grabbed her blankets and sat on the sofa.
Her hands shook at the involuntary shivers as she gazed at the embers, watching them die out. Even with the blankets and proximity to the fire, her shivering only increased. Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall. Gingerly, her door opened and a hulking, cloaked figure walked inside.
“Dimitri,” she whispered. He turned, surprised to see her out bed.
“Byleth? What you doing?” Reaching down to grab her hands, he felt their icy chill.
“Love, you’re freezing!” He rapidly rubbed her hands. “Come closer to the fire, you need to warm up.”
She shook her head.
“No point. The heat keeps escaping.”
“It does?” She pointed to the hole and he went to inspect it. “Blast!” He walked away, searching for extra blankets but after decades of disuse, the staff left the master bedroom woefully understocked. Dimitri unstrapped his cloak.
“Here, use this,” he said, offering her his old war cloak. Thick, heavy furs rub against her skin as its warmth enveloped her body. Dimitri’s soothing scent permeating the old cloak and she found herself more at ease.
“Dear, come join me,” she asked. She couldn’t read his expression in dark but his stiff posture and uneven breathing made her suspect that tonight’s nightmares were especially vivid. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her and his natural heat slowed her shivering.
“I’m sorry, love,” he murmured. “I wanted your first winter here in Faerghus to be a peaceful experience. Not have you freeze.”
“It’s not your fault,” she said, nuzzling against his chest. His steady heart beat rapidly underneath. “You’re so warm. Are all the people like Faerghus like this?”
“Well I can’t say for certain but I think many of us develop better tolerance for this type of weather.” She chuckled. Rubbing her fingers over his strong pectorals, she felt the outline of his body beneath his shirt.
“Dimitri…” she breathed, “Since we’ve come to Fhirdiad, we haven’t really-” Her fingers rubbed a bit harder against his chest and Dimitri blushed violently.
“I-Is now really the best time for that, love?” His heartbeat spiked but he didn’t pull away. “You might catch cold.”
“It would warm me,” she purred. “Please.”
With that, his heartbeat slowed. He leaned in and carried her to their bed.
As she unbuttoned her loungewear, she saw Dimitri hesitate. Some nights, he was ill at ease with his appearance. The ravages of war betrayed his youth, leaving him with the scars of an aged warrior.
Gingerly, he removes his eye patch. Though the eye was still intact, he struggled to see through it and the jagged scar unnerved people. To him, it was a mark of shame- a reminder of his recklessness and bloodlust. For her, it was something else entirely.
He winced as she rubbed her fingers over the sensitive skin.
“You are so handsome, Dimitri,” she said sincerely. He hesitated, his jaw tightening as if scared to speak. He leaned in to kiss her, removing all reservations.
The fire died out but Byleth was too warm to care. Wrapped in his arms, the gentle pulse of Dimitri’s heart made her drowsy. She didn’t want this moment to end.
“Ah,” he breathed as he took her hands within his own. “Your hands are warm again, beloved.” She smiled and planted a kiss on his brow.
“It’s because of you,” she smiled. He blushed and pulled her for a tighter embrace.
“Whenever you’re cold, tell me. I’ll always be here to keep you warm.”
“Is that a promise?”
“For the rest of my life.” Caressing her wedding ring, he smiled.
The next day, the two slept well into the afternoon. It was a rest well earned.