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Chapter Text

“We must agree on something,” his soft voice adopts a serious tone now and drags her out of her trance.  

She has been way too mesmerized by the image of his hair glowing with the light of sunset; lost in the tender touch of his hand against her cheek; the light weight of the silver ring around her fourth finger of her left hand.  

“What is it?” Byleth asks, not taking away her eyes from his, worry settling on her unbeating heart.  

“We have known each other in so many ways...” he starts explaining, “First, I was your superior and you a professor, our relationship stained with untrust,” Seteth continues as he averts his eyes away in shame. “Then you showed me how wrong I was. Your rescue of Flayn opened my eyes in a way I was reluctant to do before,” a sad smile appears over his lips, which she returns, leaning on his hand still cupping her cheek. “We turned into friends, our actions and words still attached to a professionalism we couldn’t leave aside... and yet, my heart soared with each tea invitation that arrived from you... maybe I had opened my eyes, but I was blind yet to what was transpiring... And when you fell, the band around my eyes fell with you, only too late, I thought in that moment,” she feels the sorrow in how his voice trembles and she leads a hand to cup his jaw in return, her fingers scratching his beard softly. “The heavy weight of desolation and failure lifted the moment I saw you at the cathedral the morning you came back to us... and even then, I was too coward to speak what was so obvious. We fought side by side, you the general, I the adviser, facing death at every turn, still I didn’t voice my feelings... And now, here, at this moment lost in eternity... I finally confess my utmost adoration and love to you, and not only you reciprocate, but also accept my marriage proposal... I cannot be a more lucky man...” 

“But?” Byleth asks. Because she knows. She knows this man, so perfect, and damn him, so stubborn, will always find a way to be pessimist even when the tables are in his favor.  

“But I must ask you that we go slowly in our courtship,” he lets out after a sigh and she has to push slightly his face to make him look at her in the eyes, “I want nothing more than stay by your side, to hold you close and never let go, but I also don’t want to hurt you. Because we’re so inexperienced in this and we need to learn so many things about each other... So, would you do me the immense favor of taking it slowly?” 

“How can I deny you when you ask so nicely?” she asks back, the corners of her mouth upright in a smile she has been learning for way too long. He chuckles under his breath and opens his mouth, but is interrupted by a finger over his lips, “Promise me something though...” she continues, and he raises an eyebrow in question, “you must give me a kiss everyday...” She smirks now, but the pink on her cheeks betrays her shyness, which extends to him, his face mimicking the same shade of red.  

“I cannot deny you either,” Seteth responds as he joins his forehead with hers, not taking away his gaze from her lips.  

“Then, we may start today...”  

Byleth slides the hand on his jaw to his neck, inclining his head forward to crash her lips with his. They close their eyes in bliss, his hand moving so his fingers tangle in her hair. Neither of them opens their mouths, leaving this first kiss chaste, as a seal to their agreement. Still, the longing is there. All those years of fear of rejection, of death, of abandon... are still there, vocalized in the hum that Seteth let escape, and the way Byleth fist clings to his robes. And when they separate, searching for air, the eyes open, green reflecting on green, and they know this is the first of the many kisses they will be able to share in the eternity they’ll live together. 

Chapter Text

The rays of sun pass through the greenish glass of Garreg Mach's greenhouse. The aroma of multiple flowers and plants that habit said place join in a perfume, both holy and alluring, the perfect mix for these sacred walls. The sound of dirt being handled and moved, leaving space for a new colourful neighbor, drowns the place. Distant is the noise of nuns and priests hurrying to the dining hall, lunch hour already here. 

Byleth had lost the sense of time. The week had been incredibly stressful, full of letters from nobles, meetings which ended in discussions and menaces, and a lot of planning. The new queen was starting to fear she was not up to the task of leading the recently joined continent of Fodlan. So, today she decided she needed a well deserved break. 

What kind of activities can a ruler spend a free day doing? She thought of fishing. However, the man in charge of the pond told her that fish were being elusive as of late. Her attention then flipped to the training grounds. Unfortunately, her new royal outfits leave her little freedom of movement. Destroying a dummy with her sword was out of the question if she didn't want to rip some cloth or smell of sweat for the rest of the day. Cooking? The gazes which people sent her direction and the way cookers pleaded with fear that she didn't use her precious time in something so common kicked her away. 

At the end, her feet carried her to the solitary greenhouse. Memories of spending time there, caring for carnivorous plants along Bernadetta, or learning about medical herbs with Ashe, sealed the decision. She hadn't been there for sometime, but the smell was unmistakable. It has never changed, not even with the abandon after the battle of Garreg Mach, before her falling.

She passed her fingertips through the petals of a lily and leaned forward to smell the open roses. But her eyes immediately turned to see packages of seeds on the floor. Without thinking much, she crouched and looked through all the names in them, finally deciding to plant valerians. The flowers were her mother's favourites, and she also found them pretty. They were simple, but there was a beauty in those simple little pink petals. It made her feel warm inside, like the sun after the rain on a spring day. She took the small shovel to dig into the dirt and put all the attention in her work, not noticing how many hours she had put in this endeavour.

"Ah, I finally found you!" a voice sounded from her back, rushed and nervous, lacking air, "Have you been here all day?" Seteth stepped to stand at her side.

"Not all day…but most of it, yeah," Byleth responds as she turns back to her feet, "Something happened?" she finally asks as she turns her head to look at him, and she can see that he could have been running through all the monastery to find her. His cheeks are pink from the heat, and pearls of sweat run down his forehead. He lets out a heavy sigh.

"No…I was just…preoccupied that something had happened to you, Your Majesty," the prime minister folds his arms behind his back and tries to recover some of his dignity. 

He was worried for me? The queen looks around to make sure no one is around. Once it seems the perimeter is completely safe, Byleth launches forward and rounds his waist with her arms, resting her head on his chest. She feels him stiff, staring around with nervousness, his hands in the air with no idea where to put them.

"I'm sorry," Byleth whispers, the corners of her mouth downward, "I should have told you where I was going…" she continues, her embrace tightening. His body seems to calm, and his hands now rest on her back as he embraces her too.

"My love, please, not here…someone could see us," Seteth explains softly. When he feels her pout and her arms start releasing him, a pain stings his heart in regret, so he hugs her closely to not let her go, "but, I'm so glad you are safe," he finishes with a tender smile.

Byleth stares up at his face, mouth open in surprise after witnessing Seteth being so affectionate in such a public space, where the eyes of an unexpected visitor could spy on them. More surprise even when he leans forward and captures her mouth with his, sucking slightly her bottom lip, a velvety kiss she knows will not leave her mind all day.

When he releases her, she has to take some seconds to process everything, still dizzy when he pronounces his next words.

"Your dress has dirt on it, Your Majesty. Please, make sure you change your clothes for something more befitting of a queen for our next meeting with Dagdan ambassadors. The future of Fodlan…and ours…is in your hands after all '' her eyes are completely wide as she hears the serious tone, his role back to the stern prime minister who worked tirelessly by her side. 

Still, she could see the smirk that decorated his face before he turned away and left the greenhouse in a hurry.

Damn that man!

Chapter Text

The days passed without much trouble. Their lives entered a routine, which, while boring, kept them walking each step of the way with steady rhythm and without failure. 

Of course, there were days in which they preferred to stay in the gazebo, sharing tea and their plans for the day. Other days they didn't even want to get out of her chamber. 

Seteth had made the habit to direct to her room, reports and letters at hand, first thing in the morning. Anyone that saw him would think he was just going to deliver the schedule of meetings ahead. He even had heard whispers of nuns and nobles who couldn't believe he was so work focused and cold to interrupt the queen's rest to give her more things to do.

But nothing further from the truth. He didn't travel all the way to her chamber to deliver any kind of paper, but for entirely different reasons. Reasons that made his heart beat faster and stronger, a nervous galloping which almost scares him. 

Seteth would knock on the door three times. Byleth would recognise the sound as his arrival and hurry to the door, eagerly opening and gifting him with the first smile of the morning. She lets him pass and close, before resting against the doorway as she gazes how he leaves the fake notes on her desk. The queen shyly paces towards her prime minister, trying to catch him by surprise, like a cat to its prey, and surrounds his waist with her arms, embracing him tightly and forming a smile on his mouth. Seteth then would turn around and hug her back, blush spreading through both of their cheeks. And finally, the awaited kiss she had been pining for the late hours of the previous day.

This day was different though. Seteth didn't attend to their secret morning routine. He won't even stay in the same place as her for too long. The whole situation created a pit in her stomach and hole in her unbeating heart. What has happened to provoke this situation? She needed answers, but the workload made it impossible as it kept her occupied all day. 

At the end, she had to resign and hope the next morning she'd receive her daily kiss.

When she's already in her chamber, getting ready to go to bed, someone knocks at her door. Three times. Can it be? Byleth walks to the door suspiciously, opening only slightly, ready to attack if it isn't a visitor in peace terms. But her guts were right. Just in the hallway, Seteth stands, report and maps in hand, looking as serious as ever.

"Your majesty, I'm sorry to interrupt so late, but it has come to my attention the most urgent matter…May I enter?" his tone didn't waver and she could see the tension on his shoulders.

"Of course," she responds as she blinks quickly at the sudden visit. She steps aside and let him in, closing the door behind him, "What is it, Setet-" 

Before she can finish and as she turns around, her fiancé lets all the papers fall to the floor and grabs her face with both hands, then clashing his lips with hers. Byleth can only close the eyes and lead her hands to rest on his chest, feeling under her fingertips the soft embroidery design. He kisses her fervently, inclining her head with his hands to deepen it even more. His tongue lightly touching hers, as if still unsure of what he's doing at all. Byleth reassures him with touches in return and sliding her hands to the back of his head, fingers tangling with locks of green hair. 

When they separate, foreheads joined and exchanging hot breaths, neither of them can help but smile in a silly way. 

"Where did that come from?" Byleth asks, her eyes locked with his. He chuckles and swallows hard.

"I was thinking…I've given you many morning kisses, but never a good night kiss…so I thought it was only pertinent to change our routine just slightly…" Seteth blushes as he explains his course of action, "d-did you like this deviation of our habitual daily kiss?" 

"You…you're such a silly man!" the queen exclaims, the words making his eyes go wide and his mouth gape, "of course, I like it… also, you can give me more than one kiss a day, you know?" She concludes with a silent laugh in her voice. He only shakes his head.

"As much as I love kissing you, I prefer we continue with only one kiss per day. I don't know how I would be able to work properly knowing I could be kissing you as I wanted…" Seteth admits before he even realizes what he's saying. His words seem to strike a second later if the wild blush on his cheeks and ears is any sign. 

"Big softie…" Byleth whispers while she buries her face on his chest, her arms now surrounding his waist. They stay silent for a moment, just enjoying the embrace, when she breaks it again with a request. "Stay for a little bit longer…tell me about your day… I've missed you,"

"Of course, my love,"

Chapter Text

The grunts and sounds of wood clashing with wood drowned the entire courtyard. It's been some weeks since the queen had the opportunity to spar like this since now she's always buried in mountains of paperwork. 

This day, however, her eyes always managed to wander and find the training grounds through the windows; her ears filled with an ocean of exertion breathing; the calluses of her hands burning with need to hold a weapon again. Her entire nature was asking her to fight, even if it was just against a dummy. Still, she pushed those instincts to the back of her mind. She had work to do after all. And she was no longer a mercenary or general, but a queen. People didn't look at her with apprehension anymore, fear in their eyes when she walked past them, blood from her enemies decorating her coat. No. They looked at her with admiration, for she ended the war, and respect, because she took the mantle of ruler when Fodlan was at its worst. Now her life is diplomacy not violence. Well…who says diplomacy isn't a type of violence? She thought with amusement. Too many letters with nobles' threads and demands have found their way to trash in only a few months. But no, even thinking that, she couldn't bring herself to give in to those desires.

Her internal struggle wasn't invisible, however. Seteth knew something was off since the moment he first saw her that morning. When she couldn't focus on any information shared in the meetings and had to be repeated; when her eyes looked to a distant point and couldn't meet his gaze; when she stared at her hand for way too long, something bothering her. To say this behaviour was worrying him was an understatement. He was climbing the walls and running through all the rooms he had organised in his mind, while at the same time, maintaining an image of dignity from outside. I need to do something… 

When the twilight time arrived, everyone seemed to be retiring to have dinner or make some final amends for the next day. The prime minister entered the queen's office, left some reports on her desk, and instead of turning around and going back to his own workplace, stared at her. Nonchalantly as possible, rolled his shoulders and started speaking:

"I was thinking of training a bit before going to bed… Would you want to join me?" 

Byleth stopped writing, her eyes wide even before she looked up at him.

"Can we do that?" she asked silently.

"Well, of course! A ruler must stay exercised and in good shape, for they must be able to protect their people…" 

He cannot even finish before Byleth stands abruptly and walks around her desk and towards the door.

"Let 's go!" she exclaims, all the energy that had been absent through the day returning to her body and gifting her with a shining light. Seteth could only watch her go with a tender smile. I knew it…  

Byleth changed into her exercise clothes, and basically dragged him to the arena.

"Are you not going to change into something more comfortable?" she asked as her eyes evaluated the training weapons on the rack.

"There is no need, I'll just take out my coat and I'll be ready," Seteth responds while his fingers are occupied with the numerous buttons of the navy blue cassock.

At those words, the queen could not help but steal a glance from the corner of her eye to observe how he pushed the coat out of his shoulders and left it on the floor, not before correctly bending it to avoid possible wrinkles. Her stare quickly returned to the wooden swords when he approached to study the lances.

"So you're going to fight me with a spear, huh?" she asked jokingly, her hands weighing one of the swords. He snorts and grabs a weapon himself.

"To fight the most formidable warrior of Fodlan I must not take any chances and choose the weapon I'm most proficient with," he finalized with a smirk as he positions at the centre of the arena.

"The most formidable warrior? Hah…you cannot possibly think that some flattery would make me go easy on you, right?" her words abandon her mouth accompanied by a smug smile, while he joins him.

"Absolutely no. I would be disappointed if stating the truth, even if it sounds too flattering for your ears, would make you relent. In fact, I want to see your best, for I'm going to give my all in this spar. Are you ready for that?" 

"More than ready,"

They exchanged blows, dodged attacks and circled each other for Goddess knows how much time.  Byleth used all her mercenary tricks learnt from Jeralt and her years on the road, as well as some movements obtained from the Knights. Seteth, on the other hand, made use of his millennia of expertise with spear, the force gained in countless battles, the endurance of centuries protecting Flayn. It was a sight to behold.

Still, there can only be one winner, and the one who has control over time always emerges victorious.

Byleth disarms Seteth and throws him to the floor with a final push to his shoulder with all her strength. The saint lay on the floor, breathing heavily and letting the sweat run from his forehead to his temples and drenching his emerald hair. He cannot be more content however. He had managed to awaken the passionate spirit of his fiancée in this fight, a total relief after today's absence of her mind. His thoughts wander until he feels the queen crouching over him, each leg on each side, sits on his abdomen and observes how his face turns red with amusement.

"B-Byleth, what are you doing?" The nervousness is clear in his voice.

"Reclaiming my prize," she responds with laughter. 

He raises an eyebrow, not sure what she means. Still, it all comes together when she leans over him and captures his mouth in a heated kiss. It takes him by surprise at first, but he just melts when their tongues meet, alluring him to lead his hands to her thighs. When she separates to catch breath and stare at his face, he cannot help but chase her mouth, looking for his own daily kiss. A hand stops him.

"Ah-ah, losers don't get to give any kiss today," one corner of her mouth lifted, and Seteth's face get a tone whiter as he gapes. Byleth stands, walks to the rack to leave her sword and turns around to the door. "Hurry up and come, it's dinner time," and with those words, she's gone.

He can only watch everything from the floor, completely stunned by her actions. However, he ends up resting his head on the floor and laughing.

Chapter Text

With the warm summer days, the monastery received plenty of visitors. Some came for pilgrimage, the place sacred in so many ways as well as historical in others; some, came to investigate and write about the recent chapter in the history of Fodlan; others, mostly noble parents, arrived to check the classrooms and dormitories, for their children would arrive to study at the Academy soon.

But what really made Byleth most excited were the people that came to Garreg Mach to visit her. Old students and comrades in arms that had embarked on a new path in their lives. It was a joy to see them all again and hear about their new endeavours.

However, the queen was also nervous, because someone very special was arriving too. Someone who will receive some news, which Byleth hoped, were good ones for them. 

Flayn had been traveling through all of Fodlan and outside the continent. The Benevolent One wanted to cure all the wounds opened during the war, and after many discussions with her father, she initiated her journey. 

It has been tough for Seteth, who always expected a new letter from her, to hear she's fine, not facing any trouble, and also, even if he didn't say it aloud, that she hasn't met any male willing to court her. Byleth has been doing anything in her hand to maintain him distracted, to not think about the possibility of anything going wrong, because she knows he's always on the verge of riding his wyvern to wherever his daughter is and bring her back. 

The couple had decided to keep the information of their engagement secret even to her, knowing she would like to hear this in person. How will she react? Will she be happy? Angry? Sad? Byleth hoped the girl, the millennia old former student, would take the news well and that she doesn't see her as a threat to her mother's memory. 

She knows she'll never replace the first love of Cichol, so dear for Flayn. Byleth wants her to understand that she wants to be by Seteth's side, a union based on trust and love, and that the girl will always count on them both. Maybe she'll not see her as a mother, but as a friend. 

Seteth had organised everything for her arrival. Favourite activities, dishes, beverages… he was ready to dote on her in an inmensurable way. A strategy to accomplish that his daughter takes the news better? That thought created a bundle of nerves in Byleth's stomach. Does he really think she will react so badly? The queen shakes her head, she has to vanish those thoughts away. It will go fine!

Before she even crossed the gates of Garreg Mach, the Prime minister was over her, raising her to the air in a bear hug as the girl laughed, calling the attention of a crowd in the entrance market. Byleth observed them with a tender smile.

They had been able to tell the truth about their relationship and identities to the people of Fodlan, a clear start to a new era. Now they can enjoy life without hiding the reality behind their affection. Just a father and a daughter who have been alone for way too long. 

When Seteth let her go, Flayn walked to Byleth. Not sure how to greet her, the queen raised her hand and waved, as she usually does, only to feel the girl embracing her by the waist a second later. She's surprised but she quickly hugs Flayn back, caressing her bright green hair softly. 

Cethleann had seen to grow in the last few months, or perhaps it was her change of hair and outfit. She didn't wear the uniform of the Academy, but a personalized bishop wear, in white with navy blue embroidery, and changing the skirt for pants, more practical for traveling. As for her hair, it was shoulder length now, her big waves at either side of her head gone, the accessories still there, making sure the fringe didn't get on her face. The Saint is the very image of beauty and grace, as well as fortitude.

The three walk to the room where the lunch is taking place. On the way, Flayn tells them about her travels and how much she has learned from them. Seteth looks at her with pride shining in his eyes, as Byleth smiles seeing the girl's excitement.

They practically devour their fish banquet, and when dessert arrives, the couple look at each other and nod with conviction. He's the first to talk.

"Cethleann…I cannot express how proud and happy it makes me to hear about your new experiences. It's truly an immense joy to see you grow…" Seteth says, both hands joined, fingers intertwined, over the table. Flayn had taken a spoon of sorbet and now smiles as she leaves the cutler on the table, mouth still full. "We also have news to share with you, and we hope they bring you the same happiness as your recent journey…" he tries to maintain composure, but Byleth can hear how his voice trembles. 

He's apprehensive while his daughter inclines her head to a side and furrows her brow in confusion. The queen rests a hand on his thigh under the table to reassure him, to tell him she's there with him.

"I'll come out with it… Byleth and I are getting married…" Seteth blurts. 

The girl coughs, the food makes her choke on as she doesn't expect the news. Her eyes water and she stands from her chair. The man follows, ready to help his daughter. Byleth stiffens in her seat, alerted by the reaction.

"Flayn! Flayn, are you alright!? Do you need water? I'll give you a glass of water!" He doesn't wait for her answer, running to a table at the end of the room, grabbing the pitcher of water and pouring some in a glass.

However, when he returns to give her the beverage, he has to hold the object tighter, for the girl launches over him in an embrace. The prime minister is stunned, and leaves the glass on the table before, reluctantly, hugs her back.

"Oh, father! You finally confessed your feelings! I was afraid you would be too…" Flayn hesitates before saying her next word. Byleth covers her mouth and chuckles, for she suspects the term was going to be 'coward'. "cautious…yes, too cautious! To share your love sentiments for the Professor! I'm so glad to see how wrong I was!"

"Flayn, I…what do you mean by that!? You knew how I felt?" Seteth's cheeks are aflame in shame, his mind probably cursing himself.

"Of course! You're so obvious, my dear father Cichol…The way you looked at her, how you always asked about her whereabouts…Oh! And when you spent a whole afternoon hiding near the fishing pot, waiting for her to arrive so you could act like you ran into her and fish together!" 

After such a confession, his cheeks are not the only thing red, but his whole face, and was averting his eyes. Byleth crosses her arms and stares at him with a smirk. 

"I knew there was something… fishy, when I always found you in the docks when I appeared…" the queen says as she picks him with her elbow. Seteth tries to regain his composure by coughing, fist covering the mouth.

"You sound proud of your… joke… you really need to spend less time with Alois, my love," he defends himself, his arms now folded on his back. But just when Byleth is about to respond, Flayn enters the conversation.

"And you call her 'my love'!! So romantic!" The young saint exclaims and lets out a dreamy sigh as she looks at them with stars in her eyes. The couple feel shy under the girl's scrutiny, not daring to say anything. "This feels like family now more than ever!" 

Cethleann closes her eyes with a pleased smile and continues eating her dessert. The queen and her prime minister seem surprised by how well she has taken the news. They look at each other and smile softly.

"Yes, this certainly feels like family," 

Seteth whispers, sliding an arm around Byleth's shoulder and kissing her forehead. She passes her arm through his back and embraces his waist, the other hand over his chest, rising into her toes to kiss his cheek.

The rest of the day, the three of them spend it together. They exchanged stories, talked about wedding plans, played with each other's hair, drank their favorite tea and basically, enjoyed their time as a family. 

Chapter Text

The stone paths of Garreg Mach's Monatery were covered in a thin layer of ice. It had started snowing during the night of the ball which celebrated the Establishment Day, and hadn't stopped until today. Saint Cichol's Day. 

The inhabitants of the monastery had discovered a white landscape when they could finally open their doors after three days. It truly was a beautiful scenery, but one which also brought lots of work.

 Groups of people, monastery service and students had to be organized to clear the paths of snow, unfreeze the pipes, prepare warm meals for everyone, clean…among other necessary tasks. However, students didn't seem downcast. Instead, took advantage of the situation, free of classes and homework, to enjoy their time outside and initiate snowball battles, the only kind Byleth wished to see them ever.

She stood next to the bridge that leads to the cathedral, shovel in hand, ready to help in case of need. She may be queen now, but she would not have her home be cleaned by others while she sat warm and tidy in her room. Her hands can get dirty too, as she took pride in this fact. Seteth was next to her. He's the one in charge of organizing each group task and leading them to places which required care. 

It was during one of this schedule talks that a bulb in Byleth's head lit. Her fiance was asking one of the groups to, please, go and clean the cemetery, which was certainly in a bad state. She was helping get rid of the ice that made the entrance to the cathedral difficult, when she heard him and flipped her head, hurrying next to him.

"I would like to go too," the queen said, her face already warning the others to not try to change her mind. Seteth knew exactly why. 

He called a nearby monk and told him that, if any group needed a guide or another task, he would be in the cemetery accompanying Her Majesty. 

The Prime Minister wore a black coat, similar to the navy blue one he often wears but made of a thicker material, perfect for this kind of weather. His hands are covered with black gloves, and in his feet, special boots to walk over the icy paths without problem. And yet, his face could still feel the crisp air, the guilty of his nose taking a reddish color. 

Once they arrived at the isolated cemetery, everyone was tasked with a spot to get rid of the snow and clean the graves. Byleth didn't need indications. Without a word, she started clearing the path near the stairs to the first two graves which could be seen. Seteth stood near her, clearing the benches and throwing the snow through the cliff behind the middle walls of the place. 

Soon, everyone was over with the work, and he dispatched the group with a smile and the promise of a tasty meal at the dining hall. Still, one person wasn't moved by the idea of lunch.

Byleth crouched next to Jeralt Eisner's grave, passing her fingers through the engraved name, the letters now filled with ice. She also stole looks at Sitri's gravestone, but didn't give it too much attention. It is natural, Seteth thought. For her, Jeralt was the only family she ever had, the one who raised her and taught her the ways of mercenaries, the one who taught her how to survive. No matter she then learned about Sitri and how much her father loved her. She never met her, it was hard for her to feel close to her mother, even if she felt so thankful to her. 

Seteth walked to stand behind Byleth, his arms folded on his back, not saying a word. If she wished to stay for hours in silence, so be it, he would still stay by her side. However, he needed to say something.

"He would be so proud of you, Byleth…"

He didn't expect an answer, but the way she turned her head to look up at him, with a sad smile, was answer enough to know he had said the right thing. 

"You truly think so?" she asked, turning back to stare at the grave.

"Indeed," he simply answered. Byleth snorted.

"I hope so," she said as she stands and claps her hands to get rid of the dirt, "let's go, my stomach is already rumbling" ends with a smile, one which he reciprocated. 

When they climb the stairs, Byleth halts and narrows her eyes. At the feet of the buildings there were still borders of snow. They all seemed pure white, some spots a little dirtier because of the mud, but mostly white. But in it, the queen spied something red that called her attention. Seteth observed her as she ran and crouched next to it. He crooked an eyebrow when she didn't get back. The Prime Minister is about to call her when she yells at him.

"Seteth! Come, you have to see this!" Byleth seemed excited, enough to make him hurry next to her.

"What is it, Byleth?" He asked as he tried to spy what the object was over her shoulder.

She stood up, turned around with her arms hiding behind her back, and smiled cheekily at him. Without a word, she raised her arm over them and revealed her find.

Some mistletoe leaves with little red berries. 

"How did that arrive there?" Seteth seemed genuinely curious, but Byleth wasn't having any of it.

"Maybe the wind brought it… but you know what the story says, right?" she asks with a smirk. He knows very well, but he was in the mood to tease 

"Mmmm, I'm not sure… Care to refresh my memory?" Seteth questions back, a smug smile playing on his lips. 

"It says that, if a couple kiss under the mistletoe, they will have a prosperous life together…" Byleth explains as she gets nearer Seteth, her body pressed to his. 

"I don't know… perhaps you have spent too much time with the students and their nonsense has contaminated you," he responded, a hand to his chin as if giving it some thought, but closing the distance between them nonetheless. 

"Perhaps… but I'm willing to try…are you?" their lips are almost touching already.

"You know I Am," 

Finally, they join in a kiss. Their warm breaths intertwined, lips soft and inviting, still, his hands are once again on his back. She still holds the mistletoe up as the other arm falls to her side. When they separate, they remain close, Byleth only able to say with a smile. 

"Happy birthday, Cichol"

Chapter Text

The rays of sun broke through the window and curtains. The warm and light hitting the bundle of blankets over the king-size bed. Everything in the room is static, like frozen in time. It is not until one sunbeam reaches the eyes of the sleepy queen that there is finally movement. Byleth twist lazily and hides her face against the pillow before covering her head with the blankets and turning around to face darkness again.  

It was one of those days. 

There were times in which images of the war plagued the former mercenary’s thoughts and dreams, a rest difficult to get even after a long day of work. Only when morning come near, sleep claims her. Any other day, she would have brazen off and wake, but today she doesn’t have it in her to leave the comfortable warmth of her bed. So she clings to the clothes that embrace her and let her mind continue wandering lazily in the limit between reality and dream. She doesn’t know how much time she spends like that when someone knocks on the door. 

Three times.  

Byleth pokes her head to look at the entrance of her chamber, knowing full well who is on the other side. Now, she only had to decide if she wanted to let him in or not. He will lecture her, of course. They have too much work, so many letters to write, reports, meetings... Just thinking about it makes her mentally drained. But she couldn’t carry the guilt of leaving him to take care of everything. She sighs. 

“Come in,” she yells with little force, and rests her head on the pillow, closing her eyes to wait for him. 

She hears the door opening slowly. She can see him in her mind, taking in the room's image from the door. He enters and closes behind him. His steps are heavy and calculated, leading him to the bed, where he stops to observe her. The queen prepares herself to hear his most common responsible phrases: Your majesty, there is work to be done, or it is time to give our all to assure peace in Fodlan. All of that doesn’t matter now. She wanted nothing more than to spend the whole day in bed, perhaps a little bit of training in the afternoon, but nothing else.  

However, he says nothing. He exhales loudly as he sits on the bed. This makes Byleth curious, opening one eye to spy her fiancé. Seteth stares at her, love and compassion filling his pupils and breaking down her defenses. He extends an arm, caressing her visible face with the back of his hand, pushing away strands of hair.  

“Is one of those days?” his voice is soft, as if not wanting to tear down the tranquil atmosphere of the room.  

He knows... of course he knows; he has lived more wars than me. 

She only nods and hums in affirmation, greatly enjoying the callouses of his hand against her skin. His thumb passes through her bottom lip and she has to bite down her urge to kiss his fingertip. Byleth studies his face as if trying to discern his internal thoughts, but she cannot see any trouble in the fine shiny emeralds he has for eyes. He gazes at her sleepy visage and for a second; she suspects he’s about to fall asleep next to her until he talks. 

“Stay in bed today. I’ll take care of your tasks,” Seteth concludes, extracting his hand, but the queen catches his wrist with both hands, pushing it against her cheek. 

“No way,” she protest, “I cannot let you handle so many things,” her face hidden in the pillow and her voice almost muted. He sighs and leans his head forward to catch her eyes. 

“Then what do you suggest we do?” Seteth asks in a worried tone. Byleth says nothing, but once the thought passes through her mind, her cheeks cannot help but get aflame and red as the roses of the tea party gazebo. 

“Stay here... with me?” her suggestion is spoken aloud with a voice so soft that it was barely a whisper, but the effect is the same as if she had yelled it.  

The advisor’s cheeks adopt the same blush as hers and he has to let out a nervous cough. Still, it surprises her when she feels Seteth laying his torso and head next to her, his legs still hanging from the edge of the bed. This is enough for Byleth to turn her head and open both eyes to stare at him. His hair is sprayed, forming an aura around his head, his circlet askew to a side, his pointy ears visible. They stay like that for a long moment, just gazing at each other’s eyes. 

“I like this image...” Byleth comments, the corner of her lips turning upward in a tender smile. “I’d love to see it every morning,” she concludes, her arm extending to caress the facial hair over his jaw. He responds her grin with a grin of his own. 

“I feel the same...” he agrees, his hand cupping her cheek, “I cannot wait for this to be the first image I see every morning for whatever centuries may yet be ours,” his thumb passing through the upper cheek. 

“We could start today, you know?” her smile turns into a smirk, one arched eyebrow. He snorts and hides his face with the other hand. 

“Don’t tempt me,” Seteth warns. 

“I’m not trying to tempt you, it was just a suggestion... one that I would be thrilled you accepted...” her head is inclined to a side as she observes his reaction. 

“Of course you would...” he closes his eyes and gift her and exasperated chuckle and smile.  

“Please?” she pleads, her hand moving to grab his neck. 

“I would love to... but you know I can’t, my love...” he let her drag him closer to her, their foreheads joining, their breaths intertwining, noses brushing against each other.  

“Alright... give me a kiss, at least then...”  

Byleth has her eyes fixed on his, her mouth forming a pout. Seteth seems to think about for a second and smiles. 

“As you desire...” he concedes as he nuzzles her cheek. With this, he gains a triumphant smile from her, who readies her lips to receive the peck. 

Seteth has other plans, though. His lips land on her nose, which she wrinkles at the feeling of his skin against hers, and closes her eyes forcefully, finally opening them in surprise when he separates. 

“You have an adorable little nose, you know that?” he says, not expecting an answer, but glad he got what he was looking for, accentuating his words with a little push to her nose with his finger. As she did when he proposed, her cheeks tainted a very nice shade of pink, her eyes big and expectant, her mouth small with the corners slightly upward.  

“Mmmm, I liked that... but I have other plans,” she purrs as she hooks her index finger to his collar and drags him forward, crashing her mouth with his.  

Teeth collide at first, but as she accommodates, lips slide against each other, tongue exploring timidly. Her other hand moves to his hair, caressing the green locks softly. Seteth, stiff at first at her unexpected actions, let himself relax, his hand resting on the blanket, where he thinks is her hip, while his other arm helps in his support, trying to find leverage, pushing forward to deepen the kiss. He would kiss her all day if they could. 

But there were duties to attend to.  

So he separates, taking a second to stare at her face, red from the kiss, eyes closed in bliss, mouth slightly open, still waiting for more. He smiles, with all the affection he processes her, inclines his head so his mouth is next to her ear and whispers. 

“I’ll take care of your work today, rest in bed,”  

The words make Byleth open her eyes quickly, at the same time as he stands up, escaping from her hold and hurrying towards the door.  

“Seteth, no! Worry only about your work. Leave mine be!” she yells as he approaches the door and grabs the handle. He’s deaf ears to her words. Opens the door, turns around and gifts her a smile before he puts his finger over his lips, asking her for silence, “Seteth!”  

Is too late. He gets out and closes the door, ready to face a whole day of dutiful work for the two of them. 

Peace cannot arrive soon enough, and then we’ll have mornings like this one every day. 

Chapter Text

Midday is, usually, the most busy time of the day at Garreg Mach. People were fully awake and totally drowned in their work. Also, people wanted to get everything done quickly with the hope of being able to grab lunch sooner, while food was still warm and tasty, without having to wait in the line of equally hungry people.

The Queen of Fodlan wasn’t an exception. Even when her food was taken to her office by the servants, she wanted to have everything almost done by lunch time. There wasn’t a single thing that bothered her more than having to eat while spying, a tired and angry scowl on her face, the big pile of papers which still required her attention. She was committed to her work, but not to the point of sacrificing a moment of peace like a lunch should be. Totally the opposite of someone I know.

Byleth has caught Seteth in the act more than once. A spoon in one hand, absently removing a stew, while in the other, a piece of paper which information was far too important to miss. It was unnerving. She would watch him from the doorway, crossed arms, waiting for him to notice her standing there. When it becomes evident that he wouldn't, she coughs, making him jump in his seat, the clutter hitting the plate, the sound, a pitch noise that screams “guilt”.  

But today was different. She walks up and down the whole monastery, delivering papers, attending Cathedral’s issues, checking out the stables... a busy day just like any other. However, when it came the moment of her reunion with Seteth, he wasn’t nowhere to be found. At least, not in his common places. 

Byleth searched him in his office, the door opened, the windows uncovered by the curtains, ink bottle opened, and quill wet with it waiting in its stand. The library only had some students here and there, nuns and priests sitting on the tables studying the sacred texts. The wyvern’s stable, smelling strongly as ever, the creatures bundled and searching for warmth during the cold day. The Cathedral is full of people offering their prayers and visiting the four golden saints. He wasn’t anywhere.

It wasn’t until she passed by the infirmary that she heard his representative nervous cough. The door was ajar when she peeked the inside from the doorway. Naked top, sitting at the edge of a bed, was Seteth. Now...this is an interesting sight. Byleth gets into the room silently, and paces to the other side of the bed with her arms folded in her back, watching very closely his muscles, the dust of hair on his chest, how his abdomen goes up and down with his breathing... He’s certainly beautiful. She smirks and coughs, surprising him.

“What is a handsome man like you doing in a place like this?” She uses the flirting line she had to hear more during her traveling days as a mercenary. While it made her cringe back then, now the words came out of her mouth with amusement, a jest she’s sure he’ll catch. And she knows he does when he smiles after registering her identity.

“I’m being submitted to the torture of the annual medical exam... but thanks for the compliment,” he responds with mocked exasperation.

He observes as she walks around the bed slowly to stop next to him.  

“Ohh, I see Manuela has finally hunted you down,” Byleth tilts her head to the side to have a better view of his torso.  

“It seems that way, yes. I’ve been able to escape her attempts to examine me through all these years... But with the truth out, there is no point in rejecting it anymore,” Seteth let his head hung as he accepts his defeat, “and now our physician friend is ready to, in her words, subject me to such a thoughtful exam that it will make me blush” he concludes hiding his face in one hand. Byleth laughs at his torment.

“She surely takes her job seriously,” she says, gazing down as she stares at how she kicks the air with one of her feet.

“I think her intentions are far less ethical than you think,” Seteth scoffs. Byleth rolls her eyes to look at his face through her eyelashes. A hand rests on his shoulder, feeling the muscles beneath.

“I mean... I cannot blame her,” her hand descends through his arm, making sure to touch everywhere she can. She gives a step forward, placing herself in front of him, her fingertips now scanning his collarbone.

“Byleth?” warm spread through his cheeks and ears, which are already adopting a red tint.  

“Mmmm?” her touches have already passed to his chest, caressing softly the hair that grows there.  

“I.…” there is a lump in his throat. He knows he should stop her. I must. But it feels too good. “I-We shouldn’t,” he whispers.

“We shouldn’t what?” her other hand joins the roaming of his body, now focused on his sides and then wandering to his abdomen.  

Seteth gasps and not able to resist much longer, rests his head on her shoulder and nuzzles her neck. Byleth hums appreciating the new contact, as he tries to hide his face. She rotates her face, without breaking eye contact with his torso, and kisses the crown of his head.

Knowing she has had enough of teasing him, her arms embrace him by his middle and place her head on his shoulder, mimicking his position.  

“I’ll stop now, you only need one thoughtful exam today,” Byleth says in a soft voice, one of her hands now caressing up and down his spine.  

“I’d be happy if you were the one doing that exam... but maybe in private?” his arms now embrace her by the waist.  

“Oh?” she tries to stare at his face, but he continues hiding it, “then you can examine me back,” her face goes back to nuzzle his neck.

She knows she has kissed him already today... but she cannot hold back. 

The deal was for him to give me a kiss per day. We didn’t talk about how many I could give.  

With that thought in mind, her lips land where the shoulder meets the neck, feeling his warmth on her skin. The gesture doesn’t go unappreciated by how Seteth tightens his arms around her. 

He wants revenge now, and he gets it with an open mouth kiss to her neck. Her legs turn jelly immediately. She’s about to continue her assault in retaliation when someone interrupts them.

“Oh my!” the honey sweetened voice of Manuela sounds from the door, alongside the sound of a box falling to the ground.  

The couple jump away from each other like two scared cats and stare at the newcomer, the shame pretty apparent on their faces. Seteth is the first to talk.

"Manuela!? This… this isn't what it looks like!" He shouts, exchanging stares between the healer and his fiance. 

Byleth has her face totally red as she hides it with a hand. Manuela banishes the surprise from her face and replaces it with skepticism.

"Really? Because from this point of view it looked like you two were going to make out on an infirmary bed…" the physician points at them both with one hand while the other rests over a hip.

"We weren't!! We…she…well, she was, telling me something, and…" Seteth tries to explain, but he cannot remember any other moment in his long life in which he has stuttered more.

"Ohhh please! Keep the tales for yourself! I already knew you two have something!"

Byleth flips her head to look at her friend, while Seteth continues fighting with his tongue, not registering Manuela's words.

"You knew?" Byleth asks, acting as nonchalant as possible but with a surprise tint in her voice. Seteth does now realize what is happening. 

"Wait…it is true!? I was bluffing! By the Goddess' ass!"

"Language!" Seteth yells at Manuela, a warning  for her words. 

"I think her language is not the matter now…" Byleth whispers. 

"The Queen and the Prime Minister…" the healer starts mumbling.

"Look, Manuela…" the Queen knows her friend likes gossip, so she knows she must plead this stay in silence.

"So… you're not single anymore…" Manuela continues, her gaze absent. Wait… where is this conversation going?

"I…guess so?" 

After some seconds, the older woman starts crying, an action which alarms the couple even more. She hiccups and sits in one of the chairs of the room, her face hidden in her arms.

"Manuela?" Byleth approaches and places a hand over her friend's shoulder. 

"Why? Why do I have to be the only one who stays single!?" she finally lets out, the words muffled by her hands covering her mouth. Oh…so this is all about. "I had so many plans! We could have gone to taverns and bars together, flirted with whatever man got in our way! Be free together!"

"Ooooh, Manuela!" Byleth exclaims and has the urge to hug the other woman, "we can still do that!" 

"What?" Seteth asks, concerned. His fiance looks at him with a reassuring look.

"I mean… I won't flirt with anyone… but we can still hang out!" Byleth looks at the brunette again.

"Really? You mean it?" Manuela calms down a little, rubs her eye with a fist.

"Of course! But you have to promise me you won't tell anyone about Seteth and me, alright?" Byleth asks, a soft, tender smile on her face. Manuela stands up with her usual grin and winks at the former mercenary.

"Is a deal!" She exclaims, leaving the couple in awe of her quick change of demeanor. "Now, let's get into your medical exam, Seteth!" 

"Are you sure you want to do that now?" Seteth tries to swallow the lump in his throat, "I can come back tomorrow…"

"No way! I need to make sure my best friend's fiance is healthy! Now, take all of your clothes off!" 

"Wait…hold on a second!" He tries to cover himself and get away from the physician as she approaches.

"I'll leave you two to it! Be gentle with him," Byleth says with a smile as she walks to the exit. 

Her heart is now more in peace knowing her friend knows and approves of her engagement. She cannot be happier.

Chapter Text

It didn’t last long for the rain season to begin. Every time, grey clouds painted a gloomy day in Garreg Mach. Residents stayed inside the buildings, creating groups which would stare how the raindrops fell. For the first time in months, the tea gazebo was empty, and the small afternoon parties the students liked to organise and attend, were being held at private chambers.  

Even with this weather, the queen couldn’t just stay still doing nothing. Taking advantage of the low income of paperwork, she decided to finally travel to Embarr with the idea of reuniting with some nobles from the adrestian region. Seteth was totally against the idea, not only because of the weather, but also because of the country’s still instability.   

There are many who don’t accept Byleth as their ruler.   

Nobles oppose based on her origins: a mercenary turned professor is not exactly ordinary. It doesn’t matter much that she has a crest. The Goddess Crest to be precise. She was still a peasant, and one with a violent past at that. People from the church, who once were thrilled by the prospect of having a Rhea’s successor and Sothis’s vessel as monarch, are now confused and doubtful. The new queen has been proposing new ideas which would entirely change Church’s principles and hierarchies.   

The only ones who have continuedly showed their support to her, are the common folk. Her past, the hope for them to finally be represented. Her ideas, a breeze of fresh air that would change for the best the situation of the least favoured. They didn’t know or care if she was the Goddess chosen or not. She was doing something, and it wasn’t starting a war. That’s enough.   

He couldn’t be prouder about everything she has achieved in so little time. However, given his nature, he’s fearful. Every day, she painted a target on her back for the ( still ) most powerful people to stab her. And yet, she continues walking around and greeting people she doesn’t know without a care. Byleth don’t know how many heart attacks she has inflicted on her fiancé.   

Still, even with his pleadings and arguments against her plans, the queen is stubborn. She finally convinced him with a peck on his cheek and the promise of coming back with less enemies.   

Seteth believed in her as she stared at his eyes and sweared she would return safely.   

Now, as he flies fast on his wyvern, rain drenching him entirely, he curses himself for believing. Not for believing in her, he would always believe in her. But on the others. For believing that they wouldn’t try anything against her.   

She had started the journey that same morning. They bid farewell in the courtyard. He stayed behind, staring at how the carriage and the royal guard moved away. A pit in his stomach yelled, a voice in his head mumbled nonsense, and the bitter flavour in his mouth worried him. Everything told him that he shouldn’t had left her go. It is just anxiety, Cichol. Nothing bad will happen. He reassured himself.  

I should have listened to my instinct he thinks now.   

The day was already darkening when a guard opened the door of his office in a burst, not knocking and not asking for permission, the situation too desperate for that. Byleth’s carriage had been attacked.   

They were only a few miles inside the former Empire of Adrestia when an enemy hidden in the forest killed some soldiers. At the sudden noise from outside, the queen jumped off the carriage, ready to defend herself and the many soldiers who accompanied her. There were more attackers than she had planned, and knowing her small group wouldn’t be enough, she ran and pushed the faster guard to the ground of a safe place, asking him to run as fast as he can to the monastery for reinforcements.  

The reinforcement is Saint Cichol, who has left all compassion behind, with a heart full of fury and not miracles to be given. Certainly, more effective than twenty soldiers.   

With the downpour it was difficult to see, but guided by the soldier’s indications, it didn’t take long for Seteth to finally hear iron clashing, grunts and yells. His wyvern’s descension was fast, and the landing savage. The impact of the beast’s paws against the ground made the dirt fly around and distract allies and enemies alike. Then he used all his strength to sweep the attackers, a powerful attack with the Spear of Assal.   

As the fight goes on, he leaves his body automatically do all the movements, forgetting all the fatigue and pain, thinking only: Where is Byleth? He cannot see her mint hair, shining under the rain, or her white clothes being pushed back by the wind. She was nowhere to be seen.   

He continues fighting, and soon, all enemies call for retreat. The guards check around for their companions, looking for any wound, and picking up the dead bodies for bury. Still, the queen doesn’t make her appearance. Seteth frenetically searches for her: inside the carriage, behind the trees nearby, even under some corpses, fearing she would find her body there.  

Memories of a distant war come back to his mind. The pain in his fingers, sore after wielding a weapon for so much time, grabbing the cloth of his dead enemies and shoving them aside. A familiar face under a pile of corpses. His eyes feel like burning as the tears start to fall, and a guttural yell escape his mouth.  

A cliff. Demonic beasts covering the whole battlefield. A dragon trying to get rid of them. And he can only stare at the bottom of the cliff, grabbing handfuls of grass, his knees starting to feel all his weight over them. Is all pitch black. She’s lost forever.  

Seteth shakes his head. She came back. She’ll be back now too.  

  As he thinks this, the light of Fodlan comes walking from the other side of the road, her steps heavy, still sheathing the sword which is covered in blood. Byleth looks up and her eyes open in surprise as she finds him.  

“Seteth,” she walks faster towards him and smiles, “thank goodness you came, we were really cornered. You have been of great he-”  

“Where were you?” Seteth interrupts her, his face not betraying any emotion.   

“Oh, the enemy sent a messenger, probably to ask for reinforcements too. I had to run after her to intercept the message before it was too late...” she explains pointing at the road behind her with her thumb, “I’m glad it is over,”  

Seteth doesn’t respond, just stares at her. How the rain has totally drenched her dress, blood spots all over the skirt. Her face turn into a confused expression as she gazes back at him. They are surrounded by soldiers, who are awaiting orders.  

It has been merely months since he asked for her hand. Very few people know about the truth of their relation. The situation, a doubled edged blade. On one hand, it was truly a blessing, not having to own explanations to anyone, the gossip drill far from them. On the other, a curse that restrict their interactions, no able to show affection in public as they wanted. Not able to kiss or hold the other tight, just as he wants to do now.   

Seteth decides to throw caution to the wind.  

His arms surround her entirely and push her close to him, his face buried in the crook of her neck. Her face is against his shoulder, her arms still at her sides, his actions leaving her perplexed.   

“Seteth... the soldiers are watching us,” Byleth warns him in a soft, tender whisper. Her hands moved to rest on his sides.  

“Let them watch, I don’t mind...” Seteth replies in a whisper too, nuzzling against her neck, “I’m just so glad that you’re save. That you’re alive, is a joy to me...” he embraces her tighter. His lips land on the corner of her eye before he buries the face in her hair.  

Byleth yields, her arms finally embracing his middle. She enjoys his warm, the two of them creating a bubble outside which there was only a cold, bloody world, ready to stab at any chance. They would guard each other’s backs against whoever wanted to attack, for the situation now has turned even more pointed than before. The truth of their relationship would be the talk now, and not everyone will like it.  

It doesn’t matter now. As they hold each other, they had nothing to fear.