Chapter Text
Edelgard had certainly had less awkward breakfasts.
She was sitting across from the one and only Coach Jeralt Eisner, each of them about halfway through a slice of buttered toast. Admittedly she’d been living in the Eisner’s RV for a few months now, and the sight of Byleth’s burly father was far from an unusual one. They got along just fine, on the surface, but Edelgard couldn’t help but worry about if the man may have some deeper seated grudge with her. She’d met, started dating, and moved in with his daughter in a matter of weeks, and even Edelgard had seen enough television to know that wasn’t the most father-friendly of timelines.
So as she ate, she watched closely, trying to see if the elder Eisner’s face would shift or scrunch upon seeing her, calling upon every one of her card sharp instincts to spot the tell on Jeralt’s bluff of civility.
Mostly she just noticed the sheer amount of crumbs that were getting caught in his beard.
“Good morning!”
Both Edelgard and Jeralt quickly focused their attentions on the cheerful voice entering the kitchen area, belonging to a freshly showered Byleth. Her hair was still damp, but she’d already thrown on the day’s chosen outfit, a simple green t-shirt with a pair of black GMU sweatpants.
“Heya, kid.” Jeralt muttered, partly through another bite of bread. Byleth leaned over to kiss Edelgard on the cheek, raising a hot blush in her face as she swiftly became laser focused on her glass of orange juice.
“Good morning, dear.”
“What time is it?” Byleth asked, sliding into the stool next to Edelgard’s.
“9:30, looks like.” Edelgard replied, glancing down at her phone.
“Ooh! El! That means the festival’s starting in an hour! You should go get ready!”
It was rare to see her girlfriend excited, Edelgard knew, so the way she was nearly bouncing in her seat was enough to raise her eyebrows.
“You’re pretty excited for this, huh?” Jeralt asked.
Indeed, Byleth was. This would be her first time attending Garreg Mach University’s annual “GMUFest”, an event that had received rave reviews from a variety of extremely local newspapers. A variety of student organizations and local businesses set up booths on the campus grounds, and every visitor was destined to come away armed with greater knowledge and a remarkable collection of free pens.
“Don’t worry, Byleth.” Edelgard chuckled a bit to herself. “It doesn’t take me a full hour to change clothes, despite what you may think. We’ll be there on time.”
“Kinda hard not to when we’re parked at the damn thing’s front doorstep.” Jeralt muttered. He was evidently quite a light sleeper, and Edelgard had caught him more than once awake in the early hours of the morning, moaning about both the inexperience of the GMU Metal Club and their nocturnal practices at once.
“Alright, alright.” With a slight pout, Byleth made her way back towards the RV’s back end. “I’ll be ready when you are.”
With her departure, the mood returned to its usual, slightly awkward, state. Typically Edelgard was the one who managed to break these silences, so she was surprised when Jeralt cleared his throat and leaned across the table.
“Could I, uh, ask you a favor?”
Nodding slowly, Edelgard mimicked the gesture.
“So...Byleth isn’t exactly used to big crowds and public events yet. I suppose I’m a little to blame for that, honestly. Living on the road for all those years, homeschooling her in the RV…” Jeralt sighed, his eyes closing as he shook his head. “Well, point is, she’s never been to any kind of...festival before, and I know I ought to give her the space to learn. She’s an adult, and all.”
“If it’s any consolation,” Edelgard began, “I have found your daughter to be a remarkably adaptable woman, Mr. Eisner.”
Jeralt nodded. “She is. I just wanted to ask you to make sure she doesn’t get herself into too much trouble, okay?”
And with that, Edelgard could clearly see the dent in Jeralt’s stoic armor. It was abundantly clear how much he cared for his daughter, and that was one thing the two of them absolutely had in common. Showing Jeralt that, she hoped, would be enough to prove her good intentions.
Standing and scooting her stool back into position beneath the table, Edelgard put one hand over her heart as she spoke.
“You have nothing to fear, Mr. Eisner. I swear that Byleth will have an enjoyable, safe, and quite sensible day at GMUFest.”
Though her usual theatrics seemed to have confused the man more than impressed him, Jeralt’s face slowly worked its way from being one of concern into a subtle smile. He clapped a sizable hand on Edelgard’s shoulder, nearly sending her into a wobble.
“Thanks. I mean it.”
Roughly one hour later, (during which Edelgard had done much more than simply change clothes) the three occupants of the Eisner RV stepped out of the front door and onto the campus grass, mere meters away from the edge of the celebration.
“You two go have fun.” Jeralt said as he walked away, waving one hand over his shoulder. “I’ve gotta do a little grocery shopping.”
Byleth needed no more encouragement, already halfway to a sprint as she accelerated towards the festivities. Thankfully, Edelgard had become quite used to Byleth’s habit of dashing everywhere she wanted to go, and nearly managed to keep pace with her, longer legs be damned.
GMU’s familiar campus had been all but transformed for the purposes of the festival. The stone paths, marked with chalk and ribbons, guided a crowd of people towards the entrance to the quad. Edelgard filtered in with the group, gently guiding Byleth with a tug on the sleeve to follow her lead.
“This way, this way, everyone!” A young man, dressed in sunglasses and a GMU t-shirt, stood at the end of the path. His arms were stuffed with brightly colored leaflets, which he was quickly pushing into the hands of passersby. Edelgard recognized him as the secretary to the chairwoman, but her interest was quickly drawn away by a different subject.
Just off the path, standing on a makeshift stage, a towering inhuman figure waved to the crowd. Its flesh was stark gray, and two billowing wings emerged from its back. Its head, perched atop a lengthy neck, swiveled back and forth as it leered with hard plastic eyes. As the creature moved, gyrating and flailing to some unheard song, Byleth’s jaw dropped.
“El? What’s that?”
Edelgard sighed.
“That, dear, is the mascot.”
It seemed that no expense had been spared for the festivities, because there, in all its polyester glory, was “Dean The Dunkin’ Dragon”. As they passed it by, Edelgard could have sworn she was being watched.
“Oh, hello, Edelgard.”
She was happy to turn her attention back to the leaflet distributor as he addressed her.
“Cyril, good to see you!”
Reaching once again into his pile of papers, Cyril extended a leaflet to Byleth, who eagerly snatched it away and continued her dash into the fairground.
“Sorry.” Edelgard murmured, before breaking back into a sprint to catch up.
“Ooh! El! Look at that!”
Standing now at the stone fountain that marked the center of GMU’s campus, Byleth was clearly taken aback, eyes wide as she rotated in place. As Edelgard huffed and puffed, glad that she had at least finally stopped running around, she looked through bleary eyes in the direction that Byleth was pointing.
Nestled along the side of Cichol Hall’s parking lot was a tent that seemed quite different from most of its competitors. It was colored a dull grey, and a pillar of smoke wafted out of a hole cut in the top. Her first thought was to consult the leaflet she’d been given, double-checking to ensure that the Outdoor Living Club hadn’t simply placed their barbeque station away from the dedicated refreshment area by accident. She was surprised to find no reference to the tent at all on the included map, the skeptic in her urging caution as she walked alongside Byleth in its direction.
CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.
Metallic tones emanated from inside, and as they approached the tent’s entrance, Edelgard could hear the sounds of what seemed to be a pitched argument as well.
“I have the papers in my car, I told you!”
“I don’t believe you.”
“How’s that my problem?”
Two figures were waiting inside. A thin woman, her black hair dipping over one eye, stood with her hands on her hips, looming over someone crouched above a metallic tray. The crouching woman’s hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, and she held what appeared to be a small flat hammer in a muscular arm. The tool’s head glowed with a searing red tone, even as she beat it against a piece of glowing metal.
As Byleth and Edelgard entered, both of them whirled to look at them, their gazes intense.
A few moments passed in silence before the raven haired woman sighed, stepping towards the tent’s entrance.
“I’m serious, Catherine. I’ll have my eye on you.”
With a scoff, the blonde waved her away. “Don’t see how that’s any different from before!”
Snarling, the thinner woman ducked out of the tent, not making eye contact with either visitor before disappearing behind a swinging canvas flap.
“Never mind her.” Catherine extended a gloved hand towards Byleth, which she emphatically shook. “Welcome to Thunderbrand Forge!”
As she took in the bizarre equipment lining the inside of the tent, something clicked in Edelgard’s head.
“...You’re a blacksmith?”
Catherine let out a hearty laugh, loud enough to drown out the sound of the hammer clattering as she dropped it onto a nearby table. “You sound surprised!”
“I wasn’t aware that GMU had a...blacksmith.” Byleth began to tap at her chin with one hand.
“Oh, nah, I sell out of a shop in the mall.” Catherine replied. Now that she’d mentioned it, Edelgard remembered the name “Thunderbrand”, likely half-glimpsed on a hanging sign or as one of the many entries in the shopping directory. “I just owe Chairwoman Rhea a favor or two, so I’m here for the festival.”
“What do you sell?” asked Byleth.
Catherine spread her arms wide. “Whatever I get paid for! I’ve done everything from forks to fenceposts.”
“So, what are you making now?”
At Byleth’s question, a catlike grin stretched across the blacksmith’s face. Something about that expression was already giving Edelgard a headache.
“This one’s a special order. My favorite kind.” Catherine began to fish around the table at her side, not seeming to notice or care how close her fingertips came to the still red-hot hammer in the process. She picked up a silver-cased phone and thrust it into Edelgard’s waiting grip.
On the screen, she saw an album of photographs, each depicting Catherine standing triumphantly, blade in hand.
“There’s only one thing befitting a live demonstration on a day like this, ladies. I don’t suppose either of you have ever wanted to own your very own sword?”
Edelgard could hear Byleth’s quiet gasp over her shoulder.
The day had just gotten more complicated.
It wasn’t as if Edelgard hadn’t seen this look on Byleth’s face before. Her wide eyes fully open, with the edges of her mouth dipping down into a little “oh my” shape. She’d made that face after their first game of Fire Emblem, again when Edelgard finally finished moving into the RV, and something close to it the last time she’d found a stray onion ring in her order of french fries.
And it wasn’t as if Edelgard didn’t love to see her girlfriend so excited! Byleth’s joy was infectious, and the way she spread such honest excitement to those around her was one of the many reasons she loved her.
The only problem with seeing that face right now was that she had promised Jeralt that his daughter would have “an enjoyable, safe, and quite sensible day at GMUFest.” She had a sinking feeling that seeing Byleth lumber through the RV door, medieval weapon in hand, just might put a damper on at least two of those promised traits.
“Thank you, but…” she began, already putting a hand on Byleth’s shoulder and trying to angle her toward the tent’s exit, “I’m sure that wonderful sword you’re making is already called for.”
“Oh! Yeah, sorry, it is.” Catherine said, causing Edelgard to puff out a tiny sigh of relief. “But I’ve got a few waiting in my trunk, and they’re all yours if you want ‘em!”
“I do want one.” Byleth said, in a reverent tone.
“But…” Edelgard scrambled to regain ground. “We have so much else to get to today, and we can’t just carry one of those...things around, right?” She managed to pull Byleth a few steps closer to the sweet freedom of the outside world before Catherine spoke up again.
“Ah, yeah, I get it. I’m gonna be here until the festival ends, though, so if you wanna just swing by later and pick out a blade…”
“There’s more than one kind?” Byleth replied.
Catherine gave a guttural laugh. “Oh, we are gonna have a LOT to talk about.”
Before she could elaborate, Edelgard was already pushing through the entrance flap.