Archive of Our Own ^beta

From a letter from Lady Rose Llefelys to Élise, Queen Dowager of Faerghus and all the United Kingdom of Fódlan, preserved in the Royal Blaiddyd Archives in Fhirdiad:

19th Lone Moon, 1237

My dear sister,

You are too generous and caring. It is of course thoughtful of you to wish to accommodate his late Majesty’s old companions, but I do feel from your last letter that you have already done everything that you could reasonably be expected to do. Your nobility of spirit(!) is a credit to our family, as well (of course!) as to the royal house of Blaiddyd, and shows clearly his late Majesty’s most excellent taste in having chosen you as his bride, but you are in danger of forgetting your own station.

You ruled by his side as Queen for over four decades, and did great honor to the throne in that time. Your graciousness, your patience, and your unrelenting support of his late Majesty are truly signs of the charitableness of your disposition, and he rewarded you for these virtues(!) with every honor due a queen. Our father would certainly not have permitted your marriage had he had any reason to suspect that you would be dishonored in that role, and it is with immense displeasure that I see you absenting yourself from your own widowhood.

[Several paragraphs discussing mourning fashions of the era, of interest primarily to scholars of costume, follow.]

But again, my dear, before I sign off, duke or no you must not allow F——— to impinge upon your grief, as it seems, from your own sensibility, that you are in danger of doing. If I must come to Fhirdiad myself to support you, as even your own children have not, I shall. Simply say the word and I will take care of everything.

Your affectionate,
Rose

From a Fódlani grammar-school history textbook, published 1582:

… In the aftermath of the War of Unification, Prince Dimitri was crowned Dimitri I of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus.

As king, Dimitri I was free to enact many of the reforms he had written about in his youth. His time hiding from Imperial forces gave him a new appreciation for the plight and the insights of the common people. In 1203 he introduced a representative parliamentary system, in order to allow commoners to have their interests represented at the highest level of government.

In 1189, the king took a wife, Élise, eldest daughter of Count Mabine. The couple had four children, three of whom survived to adulthood. Queen Élise played a negligible role in history, not bringing any particular project to the king’s slate, but his own marriage may have inspired some of Dimitri I’s work with regards to the justice of marital law.

Domestically, Dimitri I also dedicated himself to improving the situation of orphans and ensuring education (see Section B.i., “The Blue Lions,” in this chapter), and worked with Archbishop Byleth on reform of the Church (see section C, “Guardian of Order,” in Chapter 3, “Clerics and Crests: The Role of the Church of Seiros”). For his dedication to and sympathy with his people, he was nicknamed the Savior King.

Dimitri I’s greatest and most prized achievement in international policy was the reconciliation with Duscur; he also began the process of reparations for the oppression inflicted upon the people of Duscur by the government and people of Faerghus, and wrote often of the importance of undoing as much of the harm done to Duscur as possible. In addition, he supported Margrave Sylvain Gautier on Gautier’s attempts to stabilize the Faerghus-Sreng border, though that work was not completed until the reign of Lambert I & II. (For further details on this era of international policy, see Chapter 4, “Faerghus, Duscur, and Sreng: From Strife to Amity in the North.”)

All of these various policies, united only by the sincerity of Dimitri I’s belief in their rightness, were implemented with the help and support of some of his former companions, both titled and otherwise. However, in the aftermath of the War of Unification, nearly all of the former Blue Lions developed a focus on a single interest. Only Duke Felix Fraldarius, Dimitri I’s closest advisor, worked with him on every project the king turned to. They became so close over the years that when Dimitri I died it is said that the duke grieved more than his queen.

2.B.iii: Succeeding the Savior King

Dimitri I died in 1237, and his eldest child, Lambert Hugo Blaiddyd, succeeded him to the throne of Faerghus and the United Kingdom of Fódlan. Lambert was crowned the first of his name in the United Kingdom, but the second of his name in Faerghus, and is thus styled Lambert I & II in Fódlani history …

From a letter from Count Simon Gideon to his lover, Antoine Tailler, undated but probably sent in autumn of 1393, kept with the Gideon family records:

Beloved—

This summer has been unbearable, cold and wet and rainy with nothing to do but lie about and listen to the crops drown. I miss you—I cannot think without you—indeed in spite of the rain I can feel myself shriveling to dust in your absence;—tell your wretched sister to burn her shop down that you may come back to Gideon.

No, already I can see you scowling at the page—don’t, I pray of you, crumple this letter and throw it aside! I will behave; I will mend my ways. Do not let your sister, who is lovely and not wretched at all, burn her shop down,—not that it would burn at all in this weather, so there’s no use thinking of it at all.

I might mimic the vanished Duke of Fraldarius, what would you think of that? Would it please you, if I walked away from my own lands to follow you everywhere? Though I have a sister as well, and she has children, so we needn’t fear for the future of the County if I do. I shall not call you my king, though I doubt Her Majesty has spies to open every letter, especially those from anyone as dull as us— Still, a moment, beloved.

(Greetings, your Majesty! Congratulations on the diligence of your spies. I mean no disloyalty to your royal presence with that remark;—indeed, my only thought is to compare my beloved to a man dead this century and a half and a few more years yet—I beg of your Majesty not to ask me to compute the figure exactly—to express my own purely amorous and non-seditious devotion to him. May your Majesty’s day be pleasant and may the weather in Fhirdiad be less wretched than the weather here. Sincerely, your most humble and obedient servant—who has neither inclination nor time for rebellion, Count Gideon.)

There, we’ve all caught up now, and I can only implore her Majesty to avert her maiden eyes as I tell you what I will do as soon as we’re in the same room again …

From A Child’s Book of Knights, written by Edith Fay, published 1543 by the Tailtean Press:

Once, in the days just before the Unification War, when all Fódlan was broken apart and fighting, a prince of the Blaiddyd line named Dimitri was born. He was very handsome even as a child, and he had three noble friends who would not be separated from him. The oldest was Sylvain, the next Ingrid, and the last Felix.

When the four were very young, an enemy of Faerghus killed Dimitri’s parents, and the young prince was hurt deep inside. Nearly all of his friends believed his promises that he was hale, but Felix knew him too well, and was not fooled.

[A section on the War of Unification, with enthusiastic descriptions of Ingrid’s pegasus but with battles quaintly rendered and the horror of killing one’s friends dismissed, follows.]

For ten years Dimitri had suffered, but after the war he knew he was not alone. He and his friends, both old and new, returned to the places they had known.

“I will go south,” the mysterious Byleth announced, “and work to make the Church of Seiros the beacon that I know in my heart it should be.”

“I will go north,” Lord Sylvain announced, “and take on the task of making sure each child is valued whatever Crest they bear or do not bear, and try to make peace with Sreng.”

“I will go east,” Lady Ingrid announced, “and restore House Galatea’s fortunes and name, so that I may fulfill my responsibilities to my people.”

Only Duke Felix said nothing.

“And you?” King Dimitri asked Duke Felix. “Will you go north as well?”

“I will stay here with you, my king,” Duke Felix said, “for as long as your Majesty will have me.”

As it happened that was very long indeed, and Duke Felix remained with the King and Queen until the King died—but the story of the next King of Fódlan is another story, for another day.

Abstract of a paper written by Emma Argyris, Marc Blaiddyd-Martel, and Ilya Duval; submitted to St. Indech’s Press, at the University of St. Indech, Gaspard, in 1591:

“The Vanished Duchy: On a Queer Reading of Unification-Era History”

While most of Dimitri I Blaiddyd’s close companions prospered in the aftermath of the War of Unification, gaining additional honors and strengthening the titles they handed down to their children, Duke Felix Fraldarius never married, never legitimized an heir, and never sought to add to Fraldarius territories. Indeed, with the consent of the Crown, parts of the Duchy of Fraldarius were given to the Margraviate of Gautier and the County of Galatea, while the remainder was absorbed into Blaiddyd lands after Felix Fraldarius’s death, becoming a courtesy title of the crown prince or princess’s. The last independent Duke of Fraldarius is sometimes referred to as “the Vanished Duke” for how thorough the effacement of Fraldarius as an independent power was.

It would make sense to strip an enemy of power in such a way, but Duke Felix Fraldarius was Dimitri I’s closest advisor and lifelong companion. It is the contention of this paper, supported by documents from the contemporary court in Fhirdiad, that Felix Fraldarius was in fact romantically involved with Dimitri I.

From an e-mail from Marc Blaiddyd-Martel to Emma Argyris, 1590:

… Woman you are a bloody saint yourself—I’ve never been so glad to smuggle anyone into the Family archives, I only regret that the Ancestor didn’t leave you anything more useful. There’s a Fraldarius library somewhere up north, but you’d have to get the Cousin to let you into that one if you don’t have a pass from the university, and rumor has it they’re very stingy with the passes to avoid disturbing the Royal Presence.

Listen—I know it’s incredibly presumptuous to ask, but do you need a second co-author? I studied history myself at university, I graduated near the top of my class I believe on my own merits, and I’m doing nothing with my life at present except rattling around. I will break into the Fraldarius library for you. This is thrilling. Have spent the last fifteen years being sneered at by the usual assortment of awful aunts and uncles about how I’m letting the Family down by being gay, et cetera et cetera, Royal Blood watered down, Regal Tree Branches cut off short, all that sort of nonsense. I can brew a tolerable cup of either tea or coffee and will fetch (and pay for, if that’s an incentive) takeout at any hour of the night if you don’t want me burgling libraries for you. This is most certainly bribery and I’m not ashamed.

Hearing you explain your research was like feeling a key fit perfectly into a lock—this huge incredible thing that I am part of, that’s part of me. Goddess, now I’m spouting poetry at you. …

From the Enbarr Gazette, 18th of the Ethereal Moon, 1432:

Madame Brose’s Crown and Shield premiered last night at the New Mittelfrank Opera House. The plot barely holds together—a possessed king who has not been confined to his rooms, a loyal retainer who nonetheless spends the first act arguing with him at every opportunity, a conspiracy whose members and purpose are never identified—and the romance is an insipid waste of La Selene’s incomparable coloratura, but the staging is well done, the chorus’s performance is lovely, and both the male leads are outstanding and entirely capable of carrying the opera alone.

The young heldentenor Fyodor Lamar makes a stunning début as Dimitri I Blaiddyd, masterfully showing off the extremes of his range with the extremes of Dimitri’s moods. Meanwhile, well-loved tenor Bertram Sommer returns for his fourth season with the Mittelfrank as Duke Felix Fraldarius, a surprisingly mature role for the technical skill required. As noted, La Selene is brutally over-cast; she has a single aria and only one duet, while the other two leads carry most of the opera, singly or together …

A note from Lady Helena von Nuvelle to Lady Clara Noyer, later found in a hatbox by the biographer of Fyodor Lamar:

Shocking dealings at the Mittelfrank, my dear—they’ve gone and put on an opera about noblemen in love. I’m so scandalized I simply must see it again, and you must join me, that we might follow their excellent example. As a further incentive, their new heldentenor is delicious, and accepted the bouquet I had sent to his rooms last night. I cannot imagine him to be any more capable than I am of resisting you—do join me tomorrow, darling, the opera’s plot is shockingly bad but the gowns this season are delightful and the music is simply divine, and you won’t have to be jealous of me swooning over La Selene since she doesn’t get to do a blessed thing.

From the 1432 journals of artist Adam Paget, later of the household of Count Leon von Hevring, preserved with the Hevring family records:

Ethereal Moon, 23rd

Count Hevring invited me to the opera. Not sure I should go, but it’s supposed to be a war story, and surely that’s unexceptional. Doubt the dowager countess can find fault with that, especially since his portrait is supposed to be a very martial sort of thing.

[Several paragraphs of technical details about pigment and brush technique follow. The last sentence for the day’s entry, “He really does have an exceptional face, though” has been crossed out, though incompletely.]

Ethereal Moon, 24th

Not the sort of opera I was expecting. I didn’t know where to look. At the stage, surely, but kept finding myself trying to think what Count Hevring was thinking.

[The next sentence has been crossed out completely, and is illegible.]

Wouldn’t mind seeing it again now that I know what to expect, though.

From the website of The Daphnel Times, 16th of the Garland Moon, 1599:

Shocking Discovery in Unification-Era Painting
King’s Liaison Revealed?

An art restorer at work on a thirteenth-century painting of Castle Llefelys discovered a tightly-folded letter jammed between the canvas and the warped frame. The letter, upon being unfolded, purports to reveal a secret affair between Dimitri I of Faerghus and United Fódlan and his advisor, Duke Felix Fraldarius.

The letter has been rushed to the University of St. Indech for authentication, and a source at Albain University has confirmed to the staff of the Times that it is sending a contingent to Gaspard as well.

Professor Adrienne Clark, head of the Queer Studies department at Albain University, who is not involved with the authentication, says, “It would be absolutely extraordinary to find a document like that. So often we’re left guessing—this person never married, this person wrote passionate poetry to someone of the same gender, this person took a singer or dancer as protegée. We fill in the cracks.

“We have a few historical figures we do know had lovers of the same gender, and even then it’s mostly forgettable and easily omitted from any history text focused either on their work or their dynasties. But this is news, you know? It’s just […] incredibly rare for historians to get handed some sort of documentary proof of our theories. This is a discovery, which means it’ll be in the news cycle, and it’s about someone really famous, and not just famous but really good.

“What an incredible time to be a queer kid growing up dreaming about being a hero.”

The Times has been unable to get a copy of the text of the letter thus far, but …

User “shieldbrothers” in the comments section of the website of The Daphnel Times, 16th of the Garland Moon, 1599:

Its probably just some kind of fake. When I was a kid I used to act out unification War stories with my friends, and none of us are gay. This Adrienne chick should just go watch some porn if she wants to think about men kissing that bad.

User “blue86” in the comments section of the website of The Daphnel Times, 16th of the Garland Moon, 1599:

It’s insulting to say that King Dimitri would ever have had a secret affair!!!! He was an incredibly loyal man!! He would never have done that to Queen Elise!!! I don’t care that its gay because he wouldn’t haver had a girlfriend either!!

User “_scan_” in the comments section of the website of The Daphnel Times, 17th of the Garland Moon, 1599:

@shieldbrothers: I don’t know how to break it to you, but you might have done some gay roleplaying in your youth. Wait, that sounds weird. Now, doesn’t it sound so much less weird to say that you used to act out stories from the Unification War and some of the people involved might not have been straight? I thought so!

@joustingmom: There are a couple of pretty good F/F novels with that kind of setting too—check out thebookwitch dot fr and take a look at their “chivalric romance” category!

@blue86: Kid, please do your future self a favor, take a deep breath, and log off for a bit. It’s going to be okay. I promise. They’ve been dead for almost four hundred years. Nobody’s hurting Queen Élise by publishing about this find.

A letter from Élise, Queen Dowager of Faerghus and all the United Kingdom of Fódlan, to her sister Lady Rose Llefelys, found in 1599 while restoring a painting of Castle Llefelys, authenticated by several independent scholars at the universities of St. Indech in Gaspard and Albain in Deirdriu:

27th Lone Moon, 1237

My dear Rose,

Your concern for me is, I must suppose, a credit to you, though I cannot help but feel that your concern is instead for your own prestige. Please do not, under any circumstances you can imagine, come to Fhirdiad simply to hassle Duke Fraldarius.

I had a close and affectionate relationship with my late husband. He was always honest with me, from the day he offered me marriage, and I with him. He was a good man, a good husband, and a good father. I loved him as a friend, and admired him as a king. As I did not marry for romantic love, so I did not live with it in my marriage, and I am content with that. I mourn him sincerely, but he has not, as the saying goes, taken my whole heart with him to the grave.

You had no such ostentatious sympathy for my grief when Lady Vera passed to the Goddess three years ago, though you knew what she meant to me. Instead you lamented that I could not be cajoled into hosting a gala that you had hoped to plan through me and travel to Fhirdiad to attend. The sympathy I received was from his late Majesty and those companions whose grief you scorn, including Duke Fraldarius.

Between the two of us, it is his Grace, not I, who should—if the matter of an heir had not been in question—have had the right to grand and public mourning. As considerations of state interfered with any formal recognition of the love he and my late husband shared, I can at least not fail to offer him all my sympathy and my support.

Allow me to make it most explicitly clear, my dearest sister, that if you set foot in my home with the intent to tell any of us who has your permission—or command—to grieve and in what manner, I will have you bodily removed by the Guard. It has never been my wish or my intention to flaunt my authority in such a way, but this is a family matter, and not your concern.

I hope you and all yours are well, and that spring comes soon to Llefelys.

Your most sincere,
Élise of Faerghus and the United Kingdom of Fódlan