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The new leader of Fódlan.
It's quite the title. It's as though he's being asked to hold the weight of the sky upon his shoulders.
Byleth has never felt like this before—jittery, full of nervous energy and a gnawing feeling in his stomach that just won't go away. Everyone he talks to makes it worse; they're supportive, he knows, but it feels like they want this more than he does, like they expect it, because he was touched by Sothis and of course this means his future is already decided. He was supposed to be a professor. He was supposed to be a mercenary.
Allowing the nausea bubbling up his throat to guide him, Ferdinand's encouragement still echoing in his ears—you would be a fine choice—he escapes, almost without realizing, to Abyss.
The dank air grounds him, and he spends a moment leaning against a wall and just breathing it in until the Abysskeeper jostles his shoulder. He looks up.
"You... alright?" he asks, sounding unsure.
Byleth takes a moment before nodding, and though he doesn't look convinced he continues anyway.
"I've got something to report," he starts. "Thanks for ending the war! That's no small feat, and it's all thanks to you." Then he pauses briefly before saying, a little lower, "On a more personal note, I heard the boss man's been looking for you."
Byleth straightens. "Yuri has?"
The Abysskeeper shrugs, resuming his post. "Heard some mutterings. He's in Aelfric's old quarters now. Something about figuring you'd come find him eventually."
It almost makes him smile. He's pretty sure he would—they come so much easier, these days—if it weren't for the knots constricting his stomach and the stone in his throat.
He hurries past Burrow Street and down Chrysalis Row, peeking around corners to make sure Constance or Balthus aren't lurking down any side streets. If he gets caught up now, if he has to hear another person say they think he'll make a great leader—
Fortunately, he reaches Aelfric's quarters without incident, and even though he's been told he doesn't have to, he raps on the door quietly. From inside, he hears Yuri sigh.
"I told you," he says as he opens the door, "you don't have to—"
A single glance at him is enough to give Yuri pause, and he moves aside to let Byleth in. The door closes and Byleth sinks into the dusty sofa.
"You were looking for me?" he asks, and Yuri hesitates.
"It's not important," he says, trying for flippancy and nearly succeeding. He hears Yuri move closer, and then the sofa dips beside him and a hand finds his shoulder. "Is everything alright, friend?"
He eyes Yuri for a moment before deciding not to push the subject, and then he sighs. "I... I don't know. I'm—"
His hand migrates, from his shoulder to his back, then to the back of his neck. "I'm here."
Byleth lets himself lean on Yuri, shoulder to chest, his head under Yuri's chin. "Thank Sothis for that," he mumbles, and Yuri's pleased little laugh rumbles through him.
"The war is over," he says. "We need to think ahead to our next steps."
Thoughts of his father's ring come to him, almost unbidden. He thought those next steps would involve that ring, and himself and Yuri. Not—
"And here you are," Yuri continues, his grip tightening at the nape of his neck just enough to be comforting. "The new chosen leader of the land."
The nausea rushes back in and he has to sit up, drop his head between his knees so he doesn't ruin Yuri's shoes.
"Judging by your reaction, you don't seem too enthused," Yuri observes, the hand returning to smooth a circle into his back.
It takes a couple tries to get his throat to work around the boulder lodged in it, but eventually he manages, "Do you think I'm suited to it?"
He feels more than sees Yuri shrug. Ever the pragmatist, he says, "It's hard to say how a region under your rule may turn out, but it'll be interesting to watch it unfold."
And then he says, "If you do end up on the throne, do me a favor and take care of the people of Abyss for me. I'd like to spread my wings and fly away some day."
Something like panic grips him—it must be, the ice cold terror that rushes through him can't possibly be anything else—and he jolts up and he takes Yuri's hand in his own and he pleads, "You can't leave, I need you here, I—I won't be able to do it on my own, I—"
Yuri gently pulls his hand away and brushes the hair out of his face, stopping him dead in the middle of the sentence. "Alright," he says easily, and the panic starts to melt away, leaving him trembling just a little, just enough to prompt Yuri to pull him close. "I'll stay right here, don't you worry."
"Can't you take my place?" he asks weakly, which makes Yuri laugh again, and the panic continues to thaw.
"Very funny," he teases. "You know elevating the lord of the underground to such rulership wouldn't exactly be well received."
Byleth leans away to look at him, finding one of Yuri's hands in his lap and taking it in both of his own. "I hope you'll be there with me anyway."
Yuri's face flushes a delightful pink. "I, uh. Is this—if this is turning into what I think it's turning into—"
"What do you think it's turning into?"
The pink spreads down his neck. "Don't toy with me," he threatens, though the effect is lost when he's flushing like this. He clears his throat and looks away, down at their hands. "Still. If it makes you feel better, I'll—I'll be there. Regardless of what you choose."
It's a promise he doesn't make lightly, Byleth knows. It's a lot to ask of Yuri, but it's a lot to ask of anyone, himself included, and he's accepted it so easily. Warmth blooms in his chest and he takes his hands from Yuri's and cups his face and kisses him.
When they part, his ears have taken on the same pink tinge as the rest of him. "What was that for?" he asks.
"I love you," Byleth says, even though they've never said it before, not in so many words, but it's really just that simple. Yuri's breath catches.
"Oh," he breathes. "I... uh..."
"It's alright, you don't have to—"
Yuri catches his hand. "No, I—you know I do, right? Of course I do."
"I know."
Of course he knows. Yuri's offering to bear the burden of the sky for him. Perhaps the weight will be more tolerable than he thought, with someone kneeling beside him.