Work Text:
Dorothea has never been particularly religious. Hard to feel blessed by the Goddess when you’re growing up on the streets, discarded by your own father because he didn’t give you a crest. There are those even among the commoners who believe, of course, but she’s always thought of the faith as just another pastime of the nobility. Just another excuse for them to paint themselves as better than everyone else.
Professor Byleth…almost changed that, in her own way. It’s funny, here she is as possibly the one person in all of Fodlan who knew nothing about the Church of Seiros or the Goddess, and yet…after what happened in the Sealed Forest, it’s hard to look at her as anything other than blessed by the Goddess herself.
(Dorothea nearly feels envious. But envying others has always been something she’s good at.)
And yet…the Archbishop, Lady Rhea herself… Dorothea has had her misgivings about her before. The fates of those who had sided with Lonato…there are many things she has done since coming to Garreg Mach, there’s blood on her hands, that will always haunt her, but that is one of the worst. And yet nothing has compared to this.
It’s different from when Miklan transformed. Rather than being pained, clearly accidental, it’s almost…grotesquely beautiful, in a way. And yet seeing her incandescent rage, seeing her attack people she’s grown to care about dearly… Seeing the woman who claims to speak for the Goddess try to kill the woman who’s the closest thing to carrying out the Goddess’s will…
How can Dorothea believe in a religion like that?