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Far off in the land of Faerghus, there was a vassal state known as Duscur. It was a land of rich history, religion and culture. However, it was constantly subjugated by the Royal family of Faerghus from its independence from the Kingdom. In the imperial year 1176, Duscur was destroyed, with many prominent royal families’ of Faerghus killed and the people of Duscur themselves found in diaspora.
Amongst the survivors was a man named Dedue. He was spared by the future king’s command and from his broken reaches, resolved to become a kingdom knight. Around the same time, a benevolent soul, Mercedes, had arrived to help those among Duscur repair and rebuild their lives.
She found him at a shattered temple of their gods, taken with it’s beauty and broken love. There, under the light of a full moon, Mercedes spoke to him for the first time.
“Kind soul, you are hurt,
Allow me to calm the ache that wert.
I come with no ill will,
Only the hope to use my skills.”
Dedue weakly raised his head.
“You are not of Duscur, are you?
How can I be certain your intent is true?”
“I only wish to aid you,
And for our bonds to heal and renew.”
Silently, Dedue turned his wounds to Mercedes. With a soft touch and gentle words, she cleaned his cuts, reset his bones and kept him safe. Mercedes tended to Dedue everyday during his recovery. She would wash his wounds and softly sing to him and would pray for his recovery. Often, she would ask of his country, and of this church.
“What were they like, the gods of this place?
Was it only one? Or had it been a sea of faces?” She’d asked.
And softly, gently, Dedue spoke of Duscur’s gods and goddesses. Mercedes, taken with such talk, then asked if she might pray with him.When he was well enough to cook, he prepared her a meal, which she delighted at. Throughout the year that he healed in that ruined church, love began to bloom in both their hearts. The borders between Faerghus and Duscur opened at last, clearing the survivors out. The two stood in the cold corridors of the church, Mercedes asking:
“Where will you go, Dedue?”
“I wish to pay a debt overdue.” He responded.
“To who?”
“Mercedes, it is to you.” He’d said.
“Allow me to follow you, no matter where you go
I will come no matter if it be through ice and snow.”
Mercedes sadly sighed.
“Oh Dedue, I comes from Faerghus,
Where the wind is cold and flies in gusts.
There I await a marriage,
With one who places me under disparage.”
“I care not that you are to be united,
I must know if my love is requited.” He pleaded.
Mercedes relented.
“Sweet Dedue,
My heart only beats for you.
But this cannot be,
For I have a sovereign duty.
Perhaps, in another life,
I could have been your wife.”
Still, Dedue followed Mercedes back to Faerghus, where they prayed and pleaded to the Goddess Sothis and the gods of Duscur for divine intervention. Their prayers were heard by Mercedes’s ancestor, Lamine, who gazed down from the heavens. She provided such intervention to Mercedes and Dedue, sending dreams to the Baroness von Martritz that her daughter would be unhappy in such a marriage. As a result, the Baroness changed the terms of her engagement to the Margrave, proclaiming that whoever could tame a bear, a boar and a lion first and fasten them to a chariot would win her hand.
Lamine breathed good blessings upon Dedue and Mercedes. As he faced his competition—the young Margrave Gautier—Lamine kept an ever-watchful eye on Dedue. She guided him to the finest spots to hunt, the densest part of the forest to collect wood for the chariot and to Faerghus’s frozen beaches where he found blue shells and orange berries for which to paint the chariot with. With gentleness and kindness, Dedue tamed a Duscur bear, a wild boar and a blue lion, fastening them to a chariot of blue and orange. He presented it to the Baroness with the chariot, who was pleased with it.
“Daughter, do you accept this man as your husband?” The Baroness asked, gazing upon Dedue.
“Yes Mother, he has me by the heart and hand.” Mercedes agreed.
The two were wed in the church where Mercedes and Dedue had met. Upon returning to Duscur, they began a school to educate those of the diaspora.
However, Dedue and Mercedes forgot to pay tribute to Lamine for her blessings. As a result, she became vengeful and spoke to Byleth of her woes, then marked Dedue for death, sending premonitions of snakes in his bed, poisoned food upon his plate and the schoolhouse catching on fire. But Mercedes pleaded to Byleth, praying to the Queen of the Underworld for another way. She relented at last.
“Should someone come forth and take Dedue’s place,
I would put an end to Lamine’s menace.” The Queen instructed.
But Dedue was a man of few words and fewer allies—his family had all but perished when Duscur fell. As the date of his demise neared closer and closer, Dedue held fast to his last moments with Mercedes, spending every precious second with her.
When Lamine came before them, she was a vengeful vision of darkness. Her veil shadowed her face, but Dedue could feel her icy gaze upon her. The gatekeeper of the underworld, the Death Knight, accompanied her as the reaper. Knowing the terms of the agreement, he asked him:
“Will any other face,
Step forth to take your place?”
In a moment of stillness and silence, Mercedes herself stepped forth. She faced her ancestor with hope and dignity, gazing upon her with a kind heart and brave face. With a hand to her heart, she spoke:
“In my husband’s stead.
I will go where led.”
“Mercedes no!” Dedue pleaded.
But Mercedes only sadly smiled and held her husband’s hand to her cheek. “Dedue, I must go.”
“You are all I have left of Duscur,
Without you my steps become unsure.”
Mercedes embraced her husband tenderly, holding him close. To him, she spoke:
“Those of Duscur live on in you,
That way it can never die Dedue.”
They are with you just as I will,
Please accept this as the gods’ will.” She pleaded, pressing one last forlorn kiss to his lips before the Death Knight seized her and fled into the darkness.
Dedue called out for his wife, but only heard the echoes of his own voice. For days, he prayed to the gods of Duscur, as well as the Goddess of Fódlan to receive some sight. Finally, Sothis answered his calls, guiding him to the gates of the underworld.
“Flee to the underworld,
Where you will see your wife unfurled.
Complete the tasks set forth by of the Lady of Death,
Who is known as Queen Byleth.”
But as he appeared before the queen, she showed Dedue his darling Mercedes. She had been reunited with her lost brother, Emile, and her father, Baron Von Martritz and looked enormously happy. His heart sunk as he watched his wife and her family.
“You cannot decide for her, it is of her choosing.
Because by her hand, this was her doing.” She explained.
She summoned Dedue to the River of the Dead, waiting on the far end of the bank, near the staircase to the surface. And on the opposite end of the bank, the Baron and Emile waited. Byleth blindfolded the cleric and proclaimed:
“Mercedes you must let your heart decide,
With whom you will reside?
Your husband, Dedue
Or your family who are born anew?”
Scared if his wife did not love him, and longing to see her again, Dedue waited and prayed to the Gods fo Duscur. But Mercedes listened to her husband’s prayers and took off towards him, flying into his arms. She held him tight, pressing a kiss to his lips. When Byleth asked if this was Mercedes’s final choice, the woman held herself tight to her husband and nodded.
Byleth cast off Emile and the Baron away into the darkness. To the lovers, she offered this advice:
“Offer a prayer to Lamine and then a dozen red roses:
And away will go any threat she poses.”
As they returned to the surface, Dedue and Mercedes wasted no time offering the roses and their prayers. The flowers played an integral part in their lives. In their home, they always had a dozen blooming, and their garden overflowed with the lush red blooms.