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The sunflowers were first.
“I thought you could use something to give this place a little color,” he said as he sat down at her simple table. He smiled as she poured him tea, her pot marred by a crack filled in with a lighter shade of clay.
Byleth had nodded her head in acknowledgement. She considered the flowers after he left. Her lips felt strange.
When was the last time she had smiled?
/
The next week he brought her an orchid.
“It’s a finicky little thing, but I thought you’d have the perfect hand for it.”
He was right. That little flower was a pain in her ass, but there was a certain sense of satisfaction that settled in her chest as she cared for it and it continued to bloom.
/
Spring came with the flourish of a tulip. It was between his teeth when she answered the door. He was leaning against the doorframe and wiggled his eyebrows at her. Byleth actually rolled her eyes at him, and his smile only grew.
He swept into a bow, her neighbors turning to stare at their king showing so much interest in a humble fisherwoman.
“For the loveliest woman in all Almyra.”
“Stop that, or the tea will end up on your head instead of in your stomach.”
She turned away, hiding the heat she knew was coloring her cheeks.
/
“You are out late.”
Byleth had slowly turned her head as he came up to her side. The fishmonger who was arguing over the price Byleth was demanding for her catch openly gapped at him. “Did you get tired of waiting for me?”
He had smiled, flourishing the brightly colored flower at her like a weapon. “To be fair, I did not wait long. I wanted you to see this one. It’s from Morfis, called a bird of paradise.”
She took it from him carefully. It looked like it might all fall apart if she were not careful. “It’s strange, but beautiful,” she had finally declared.
He smirked at her. “Very much like a certain former professor I know.”
/
The daisies were smacked onto the table with a huff.
“I’m the King of Almyra, and yet no one could find me yellow daisies! Yellow, Byleth! All I could find were these purple ones!” He had glared at the flowers as if they had somehow personally offended him. “They look like Lorenz’s hair.”
Byleth had laughed. It had burst forth from her, no more than a soft chuckle from anyone else. It made her stomach ache. She had gone without it even longer than smiles.
His glare had softened, the smile returning to his lips, but he said nothing. He never called attention to her reemerging emotions, never made her self-conscious about having buried them all beneath the pain she felt when Dimitri had told her of his feelings for Marianne.
“What tea have you prepared for me today, my friend?”
/
The next flower was delivered by Cyril.
He had found her on the river, out on her boat. Cyril’s wyvern delicately touched down in the middle of the craft, careful not to capsize it. “He got caught up in something that is way above my paygrade,” Cyril had explained. “But he wanted you to know he hadn’t forgotten, and for you to have this.”
He handed over the sweet pea, its heart shaped petals a soft pink. Byleth reached out to take it, but her line went taunt. She did not hesitate, grabbing the pole and expertly reeling in a large carp.
She offered it over to Cyril’s wyvern, who was nearly bouncing in her excitement. Byleth was too busy tucking the sweet pea inside her coat, close to her heart, to much care that the wyvern almost sent them all into the water.
/
“I may have done a thing, my friend.”
Byleth stepped into the small area behind her home, large enough for a few planters full of vegetables and herbs to sit, but not much else. “It certainly seems that way,” she agreed, staring at the hip high peonies.
“I just wanted to make sure I got you the prettiest ones, but I think I went a bit overboard.”
Byleth shook her head. “No. I like them,” she had countered.
He rewarded her with a smile that reached his eyes. There was a flutter in her chest, something there where before it had remained still for so very long.
“Come inside. Alma brought me a new tea to try.”
He easily fell into step beside her. She found it hard for his carefree attitude to not infect her as well.
They both agreed the new tea was much too sweet, even for Byleth’s pallet. He wrapped the rest of it and took it with him, intent on handing it off to Lysithea who now spent her days studying in the city’s university.
/
“I was debating about giving you this one,” he admitted the next day.
Byleth had said nothing when he had shown up again instead of waiting for their next weekly meeting. She had simply opened the door and let him in.
He twirled the pink snapdragon slowly between his fingers. “They say this flower is the most like me. Devious.”
He had tossed her a sharp grin. It made Byleth wonder what had happened to put him in such a foul mood, but it was clear he was seeking a refuge from his troubles. Happiness. That was what she felt. She could provide him that refuge.
“It has another meaning,” Byleth had answered, taking the flower from him and placing it in one of the many vases she now owned because of his gifts. “Graciousness. I think in that case the duality of it fits you rather well.”
The snapdragon was her favorite.
/
She thought he had forgotten her flowers when he came the next day.
“What’s wrong, my friend? Has something happened?”
Byleth shook her head. It would be selfish of her to ask more of him.
He leaned in, Byleth startled when his fingers brushed over the shell of her ear and into her hair. She reached up to touch the place he had, her fingers finding a small twig of bluebells tucked behind her ear.
“There we go,” he had grinned, making Byleth realize she was truly smiling. “Much better.”
/
Byleth had blinked in surprise at the blue flowers draped over her lonely windowsill, spilling forth from a planter he had decided to install. He was leaning out of the window, smiling brightly and waving at her. Byleth shook her head. He really needed to stop doing that. He drew so much attention to her.
“What are these?” she had asked.
“Forget-me-nots,” he answered proudly. He quickly sobered, the smile falling from his lips. Byleth felt her own unbeating heart drop. “I have to go on a trip for awhile.”
“Oh.”
He had studied her for a long moment, her standing there in the street with her dinner slung over her shoulder, him making himself comfortable in her home. “I’ll be back soon,” he had promised.
He did not come the next day, nor even the next week. Byleth tried not to feel sad, he had said he would be gone after all, but try as she might she felt hollow.
But the forget-me-nots continued to grow. She took care of them as she did the rest of her growing indoor garden, colors brightening the one room home, and as she did she remembered his promise.
She believed him.
/
“So, the village I visited, they have a tradition.”
He had sat in her chair, the first time in nearly a month, watching her care for the small white flowers he brought back as a gift.
“And what is this tradition?”
“When someone wishes to prove themselves to a lover they will climb the slopes of a nearby mountain to pick these flowers. If the lover procures the flower and comes back with it, they are considered brave and capable.”
“Let me guess,” Byleth had teased, “you flew your wyvern right up there and snatched some up.”
“Hey.” He grinned at her, turning his palms up in a signal that she was not wrong. “No one ever said I couldn’t be resourceful.”
And he had brought them back for her. She could not help but think he should have given them to someone else, to some cultured lady who would one day become his queen.
“It’s called edelweiss. It means true love.”
Byleth had nodded her head, accepting the explanation. And then it hit her like a ton of bricks falling upon her head.
Oh.
/
Byleth glared at the fish. She wished Ashe or Dedue were here. They would give her all the pointers she would need. Byleth had learned from them during her time in the academy and during those precious moments of down time during the war. But Byleth had spent so long as a mercenary after Dimitri took his crown that she had become used to simply grilling her meals over an open campfire.
Even after Claude had invited her to Almyra and she had taken on her new career path, she had simply thrown what she kept of her day’s catch into her small oven until it was cooked through. Ashe would be horrified. The only person who would probably enjoy it would be Dimitri.
Dimitri.
It still hurt to think of the man she had once loved, but it was more of a dull ache in her chest than the stabbing pain it had once been. She thought of him less often now, finding herself occasionally wondering how he and Marianne were doing rather than imagining what ifs every other minute of the day.
She hoped they were well and happy.
But now, when her mind turned that direction, she found herself distracted by brightly colored petals, and someone else entirely would enter her mind.
Which brought her back to the fish.
Byleth sighed softly. She was certain she had butchered it. Such a fine specimen certainly did not deserve her shooty handiwork.
She had surrounded the fish with vegetables from her small garden out back. It was a feast compared to what she usually allowed herself, but it was not herself she was concerned with today.
He might not even come, her thoughts pointed out to her.
There was no chance to form a counter argument. The knock on her door was just loud enough to echo through the room, three steady beats that announced his presence. Byleth opened the door to Claude’s smiling face. He stood with his hands behind his back, rocking back and forth on his heels.
“Good evening, my friend!” Claude greeted brightly. He took a deep breath, his smile softening. “It smells wonderful in there. Did you prepare more than tea?”
Byleth stepped aside and allowed Claude into her home. “I wanted to repay you,” she tried to explain as Claude took his usual seat. He stared back at her, eyes wide and curious, before setting a purple hydrangea blossom on the table between them. “For everything you have done for me. I’m not sure if it will taste any good, especially compared to what you must usually have. Or if you’re even hungry-”
She stopped mid sentence as Claude reached across the small space separating them and took both of her hands in his own. “My friend, I am famished.”
Claude went at the fish with gusto, and Byleth could see no lie in his smile as he ate and chatted with her. He put her nerves to rest, quickly relaxing into and responding to the conversation. She lightly fingered the hydrangea blossom, absentmindedly lifting it to her nose.
“I am stuffed,” Claude announced once the last piece of fish was consumed. “Thank you, Byleth. That was a wonderful meal.”
Byleth simply nodded, ignoring the flutter of joy that filled her when he said her name. Now that he was before her, she had lost all her words of thanks. She had no idea how to express to him all the little ways in which he had become important to her, how much she looked forward to his visits.
“Byleth,” he said softly. He took her hands in his own again, careful of the purple flower she still held. “Thank you.”
Her mouth dropped open. What had caused that? Oh yes, shock. “Claude - Khalid.” She stumbled over the name he now used. He drew in a sharp breath as it passed her lips, his hands tightening around her. “I...this was supposed to be my thank you to you. I’m not very good with expressing myself-”
Another squeeze. “So you brought home the nicest fish you caught today, cut short your usual time on the river and came home early to prepare it for me, using techniques you are no longer familiar with? No, Byleth, you are better with emotions than you give yourself credit for. I understand perfectly.”
A silence fell between them, something that had by now become so comfortable and familiar. That had certainly snuck up on her, like so many other things she had missed cues for along the way. Thinking back, it made a certain sort of sense given their set up.
“Ever since I became king,” Claude continued, as if something profound passed between them and urged him on, “people have given me gifts in an attempt to gain my favor. I have the richest foods and finest wines, the most well bred animals and exotic gardens. It has been so long since someone has given me something because they wanted me to have it, and not King Khalid. Well, besides Hilda, but she uses me as an experiment for her designs, so that doesn’t count.”
“But,” Byleth protested softly, “you are King Khalid.”
Claude sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. His fingers slipped from hers and Byleth immediately found herself missing his warmth. “I spent so long as Claude that sometimes he feels like a completely different person.”
“He’s a part of you,” Byleth answered. “You share his tactican mind, his sense of humor. I see his smiles in you.” She tucked the blossom behind her ear, a rather difficult task given the size of it, and fumbled as it continued to slip free. Maybe that had not been a good idea after all. “I am glad he is not completely gone.”
There was a look in Claude’s eyes, a look Byleth could not place. He slowly leaned back across the table, scooting his chair closer to her. He picked up a section of her hair, his fingers running through to separate it into even smaller pieces. Claude began braiding the sections together, weaving the stem of the flower into it and giving it the support it needed to stay up. Byleth remained silent, consciously reminding herself to breathe as he went about his business.
“Byleth, last time I was here…” Claude cut himself off with a sigh, finishing off the braid. He placed his hands on her shoulders, turning Byleth until she was forced to look at him straight on. “It seemed you understood me. So, I must ask, did I finally make my own emotions clear?”
There was a vulnerability in Claude’s eyes Byleth had never seen before. He was placing himself in her hands, and she never wanted him to let go.
“You did.”
/
A trail of rose petals lead to their private rooms, right into their ( their!) bedroom. “I know it’s really cliche.” There was a confidence in Claude’s words Byleth knew he did not feel. He was doing that thing where he rubbed the back of his neck, as if he was easing an aching muscle, but Byleth knew it was Claude’s tell when he was nervous. “But I figured given our relationship it was appropriate...and you’re laughing at me.”
Byleth was indeed chuckling softly, hiding her smile behind her hand. But she shook her head, taking a step closer to him. Byleth took his hands in her own and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Never at you, my love,” she soothed. “But you did not really think you could buy up every rose in the city and I wouldn’t notice.”
Claude’s nerves settled, his eyes softening as Byleth brushed gentle circles against the back of his hands. “Ah, so not as much of a wedding night surprise as I thought it would be.”
Byleth's smile widened, full of mischief and scheming of her own, making Claude’s brows raise. She walked backwards into their room, dragging Claude along with her. She watched his face, savoring the surprise that flickered across it before he broke out in a full smile. Byleth echoed the gesture, and Claude broke. His light laughter made her chest squeeze tightly, the corners of her lips pulling upward even higher.
“How did you manage to pull that off?”
Byleth placed a hand over her heart, faking a moment of shock. “You would ask me to reveal all my tricks?”
Claude shook his head, squeezing her hand that he still held. “Ignatz?”
“Ignatz,” Byleth confirmed. She leaned in to steal a quick kiss from his lips.
Byleth finally turned, seeing the young artist’s handiwork. Rose petals spread across the bed, placed in such a way to form an intricate picture of a fish leaping above the waves. The fins were outlined in red, and Ignatz had even placed smaller petals to represent the fish’s scales. Below the water were a menagerie of petal fish, all going about their merry way. He had truly outdone himself. Byleth was going to have to find a proper way to reward him. It was impressive how much he had pulled off in so short a time.
Claude turned her back around, pulling her close against him. “You’re my husband now,” Byleth murmured as he leaned in close.
Claude’s eyes darkened at her words, and for a split second she wondered if she had said something wrong. But Claude pulled her flush against him, and she felt his desire for her hardening against her thigh. Lust , she realized, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
“My wife,” Claude whispered against her lips. He wanted her. He loved her. She felt the truth of it as he pressed his lips to hers, tangling his fingers in her hair.
He laid her back against the sheets. He moved around and inside her, leaving Byleth with a fullness she had never known before. Claude had reawoken her heart, had helped her repair it when she had not even realized what his goal was. She held onto him, determined he would never doubt how deeply she had fallen in love with him.
She did not really care that they had messed up the elaborate art piece, or that she spent the next week pulling petals from her hair. She woke up beside him the next morning, and that was worth it all.
Claude’s fingers were busy weaving together a chain of jasmine flowers.
“They look like stars, don’t they?” he said as he brushed Byleth’s hair back and crowned her. “They’re my favorite.”
“I love them.”
He understood her. She saw it in the way his eyes shone, and Byleth rewarded Claude with a long lingering kiss.