Work Text:
For exactly three seconds after the monster collapsed, all was silent.
Then, Byleth let out a sigh. They dare not take their eyes off the beast just yet, vigilant as they always are. Around them, the students had begun to act as well. Ashe started collecting the arrows that had missed their target. The wolves spoke to each other in low voices - well, aside from Constance - checking in on each other and taking care of their injuries. The other house leaders remained at the ready, following the professor’s lead.
Byleth inspected the monster and determined that it wasn’t breathing. They kicked the head for good measure (and to vent some of the confusion and frustration building up in their chest) and yes, Aelfric was dead.
“Professor!” Linhardt’s surprised cry set Byleth on edge once more. They whirled around to the source of the noise to find the boy kneeling next to Sitri, calling on white magic. “She’s breathing!”
The urgency in his voice alarmed everyone enough to cause everyone to gather in a circle around her. (At least Yuri and Dimitri had the presence of mind to hold the others back a bit, to give Linhardt and Byleth some space.) Sure enough, Sitri was breathing. Slow, but deep and steady breaths. “Is she…” Byleth couldn’t bring themselves to finish the question, barely daring to believe it.
Linhardt stopped his spellcasting, looking exhausted - but no more than usual, thankfully. “She’s not injured,” he reported, examining her once again for good measure. Byleth didn’t notice any change in her state. They had no idea if that was good or bad. “She seems to just be unconscious. Whether or not she’ll actually wake, I’m uncertain.”
“Optimistic as ever, Lin,” Claude says with a roll of his eyes.
The other house leaders looked to be lost in thought. “But how is this possible?” Dimitri asked, looking to Byleth for answers as if they might know what was happening. “The Rite of Rising shouldn’t have been successful.”
Edelgard hummed as she thought, one hand clutching a minor wound on her upper arm. “Perhaps the blood of the four saints wasn’t enough? Everyone here except for Ashe bears a crest, so if anyone else’s blood was spilled, maybe…”
“Maybe,” Linhardt replied doubtfully. “Or maybe it was Aelfric’s death that did it. Or maybe it was because he wasn’t trying to resurrect the actual goddess, just a woman. Or maybe it has nothing to do with any of that, and we accidentally did just the right thing.”
“Does it really matter?” Claude piped up. “Either way, she’s alive now and we should make sure she’s okay. We can figure out what happened later.”
Claude’s words seemed to break Byleth from a trance. “You’re right,” they said, straightening up from where they had been bending over Sitri - their mother. This still didn’t feel real, but there was work to do. “We need to get her up to the monastery.”
And suddenly they were back in their element as they addressed their students with new orders. “Linhardt, you stay with me and help me carry her to the infirmary. Edelgard, Ashe, you two should come with us as well to get your own injuries looked at.” (Edelgard seemed surprised as she looked in the professor’s direction - surely she didn’t think she was keeping the severity of her wound hidden?) “Claude and Hilda, find Jeralt and tell him about this. Dimitri, report this to Rhea as well.” Byleth’s mouth twisted in a slight frown, a rare show of emotion. They didn’t think it was a great idea to tell Rhea about this event so soon, but it would be a worse idea to attempt to keep it from her.
“As for the four of you,” Byleth continued, finally addressing the wolves that had been keeping to themselves, “stay in Abyss and get some rest for now. I’ll come back when everything has blown over and we’ve determined that it’s safe. I expect you all to be in top form when I see you in class.”
With that, the professor gathered Sitri in their arms and stood. The woman barely weighed anything - Byleth might have panicked at how light she was, if her breathing did not remain steady.
--
At first, Jeralt thought he misheard Claude.
Then he thought Claude must be sick, or playing some cruel prank, or very sorely mistaken, because there’s no way what he said was true.
“I know, I’m having trouble believing it myself,” the boy says, throwing his hands up as he shrugs. “Just… come with us to the infirmary. They should be there by now.”
“The infirmary?” Jeralt’s confusion started to give way to panic. “Is she -”
Hilda stepped in before he could really get going. “She’s just unconscious. Lin seems to think she’s sleeping and not in a coma, but they’re taking her to Manuela anyway.”
Jeralt nodded, though he felt like he didn’t understand what was going on any more than before. The pair of them turned to begin walking, and he followed without further thought.
He felt almost dizzy, like the edges of his vision were blurred. There’s no way this was actually happening. There’s no way. He had visited her grave too many times to believe this was anything more than a dream, or some kind of mistake.
When he entered the infirmary, everything was chaos - but his eyes immediately fell on one bed, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. It was her, just as he remembered, green hair and fair skin and pink lips. Jeralt approached slowly, gingerly, as if one wrong step would ruin everything.
Manuela and Byleth stood on the other side of the bed, saying words at him but he didn’t process any of them. It wasn’t important anyway. What mattered was the rising and falling of Sitri’s chest. He reached out to touch her hand and it felt cool - not the cold of a corpse, and not as stiff as one either. It felt just as he remembered; her body had never been as warm as her heart was.
It was the softness of her skin that finally made Jeralt believe he wasn’t in a dream. He finally looked up at the two people across from him, wanting to ask for answers. The kid mirrored his own confusion and disbelief. Manuela, on the other hand, wore a kind smile. Attempting to be comforting. It even worked somewhat.
“Her vitals are normal, and there’s no sign of injury or illness. She may even wake up soon,” Manuela told him. Say what you want about the woman, but her medical prowess and bedside manner were impeccable. “Of course, when she does, she should take it slow in case of atrophy. But there’s no immediate danger.”
Jeralt nodded, unable to speak. Manuela seemed to understand, stepping away under the pretense of fussing over another patient in order to give him space. He tried to swallow around the lump in his throat as he observed Sitri in her sleep. Sitri, the face he thought he would never see again. He couldn’t help but reach out to her face, to run his fingers along her cheeks where color was returning to them. Those fingers reached her hair, a bit dirty now but soft as he remembered, and tucked it behind her ear.
A gasp from his right interrupted him. “Oh, my,” Linhardt said as he approached, leaning in much closer than was appropriate. He paid no mind to Jeralt’s affronted stare as he reached out to poke at Sitri’s ears.
Oh, right. He had forgotten there were people here.
Byleth swatted their student’s hand away, but the damage was done. The kids gathered in the room all turned their attention back to Sitri, specifically to the pointed tip of her ear that had been covered by her hair.
Edelgard was the only one in the room who didn’t seem surprised at all, and the first one to speak. “Linhardt, really? Have you no tact whatsoever?” Her voice carried the authority of royalty, and her posture made her seem much larger than she was. Jeralt might have even been intimidated if that scolding was directed at him.
The boy she addressed, however, seemed completely unaffected by her display. He even stifled a yawn as he answered her. “I take it you already noticed? You can’t tell me you’re completely uninterested. I mean, I doubt you’ve seen a human with pointed ears before.”
“Yeah, Lin, but you don’t just ask why someone’s ears are pointy,” Hilda says. To her credit, she quickly recovered from her surprise and has moved on to exasperation.
He opened his mouth to argue, but Byleth cut in first. “Enough,” they said, with a tone that intimidated the whole room into silence. Manuela returned to her business of tending to Ashe, who appeared to have sprained his wrist. “You all have training in the morning, and I expect all of you to be well-rested and on time. Edelgard, Ashe, you’ll both have to take it easy and watch from the sidelines to let your injuries heal, but your attendance is still required. Dismissed, all of you.”
Reluctantly, and sheepishly in some cases, the students nodded at their teacher and left the infirmary. Even Ashe looked uncomfortable, as if he suddenly wasn’t sure if he was allowed to be there or not, despite being literally in the middle of treatment for his injury. Byleth sighed deeply, looking like they had just set down a weight they had been carrying for ages. “Sometimes I wonder why I took this job,” they muttered, likely not realizing they said it aloud.
Movement from the bed brought Jeralt’s attention back to Sitri - his dear wife, who somehow slept through all the chaos. Well, perhaps he couldn’t say that, as her steady breathing became just a bit faster and her head turned towards Jeralt. He squeezed her hand in turn, hopefully not too hard but he couldn’t help it, he just couldn’t believe she was actually waking up.
Sitri opened her eyes, which immediately met Jeralt’s. She clutched his hand back, and smiled. Her smile had always been lovely, the way it revealed her dimples and crinkled her eyes. Memories didn’t do her justice. The woman before him was positively radiant.
“Jeralt, my darling…” she spoke softly. Her voice sounded sleepy and weak, but happy. So, so happy.
That was what finally did him in. Jeralt’s vision went blurry and he felt hot tears falling down his face before he could register that he was crying.
This, of course, alarmed Sitri. “Jeralt!” Her words seemed to come more naturally this time. “Oh, my dear, please don’t cry.”
She moved to sit up, and Jeralt quickly tried to pull himself together. “Here, love, let me,” he said as he was already slipping an arm around her back to help her. It was pathetic of him, honestly, to have her be the one comforting him when she was the one who had literally died.
Sitri was able to stay sitting up without support, but Jeralt didn’t remove his hand from her back. It was selfish of him perhaps, but he couldn’t bear to let go of her again after going so long without her touch. Her own hands came up to his face, wiped the tears from his cheeks, and he realized he was still crying. “Please darling, what’s wrong?”
Jeralt managed to laugh a bit at that. Of course she wouldn’t let it go that easily. “I thought I had lost you. Well, I did lose you. I just can’t believe you’re here.”
He took one of her hands from his cheek so he could kiss the knuckles. Her smile grew again for one lovely moment, before it fell into a concerned frown. “And…what of our child?”
“Right here,” Byleth finally piped up, with about as much tact as Linhardt. Well, it saves him from coming up with something to say, at least.
Sitri finally tore her gaze from Jeralt to meet the kid’s eyes. Her mouth fell open slightly, making her look mildly surprised. But this was Sitri, so he knew she was completely shocked.
(It was at this point Jeralt noticed that Manuela and Ashe had left. He didn’t know when they had made their graceful exit, but he was thankful they had.)
After a moment of stunned silence, Sitri reached out for Byleth, cupping their cheek in hers. “So Rhea was able to save you,” she said, as her smile slowly returned. “Thank the goddess. But…how am I here now? What happened?”
Jeralt and Byleth shared a look then. That’s a pretty big question, after all. “Well, I don’t even know the details of today’s events. Care to explain, kiddo?”
Byleth nodded, but the corners of their mouth turned down just slightly. “I suppose I’ll just start with the beginning, and you can stop me if you have any questions. Some of the students and I discovered Abyss, and found a fourth house led by Aelfric.”
“Wait, how did you just find Abyss? It’s supposed to be a secret,” Jeralt said.
“You mean students from the officers academy? Are they your friends?” Sitri asked.
Byleth paused, that small frown returning to their face. “On second thought, Jeralt, maybe we should catch her up on the last twenty years first.”
--
Jeralt didn’t know how to feel.
Of course he was happy, he couldn’t imagine not being happy that the love of his life was alive and well. Once again he was able to hold his wife in his arms and in the moments he could, that was more than enough for him.
But nothing could ever be that simple, could it? Every detail of the story Byleth told of that day was more disturbing than the last. It was bad enough that the grave he had visited so often since he returned to the monastery was empty. On top of that, children had been hurt and a man had died in the events that returned his wife to him. Jeralt couldn’t help but resent that.
None of it seemed to sit well with Sitri, either. He could understand how she felt. This was the woman who begged Rhea to take her life to save their child. As uncomfortable as Jeralt was with the whole thing, Sitri must be feeling a hundred times the guilt.
After she woke up, Jeralt did his best to help her regain her strength and keep her happy. The kid had the foresight to send a student to report to Rhea that night, and in turn Rhea had the grace to give Jeralt some time off. He thanked her by allowing her privacy for her own reunion with Sitri. The two of them were also terribly close, and as much as his relationship with Rhea had been damaged he was happy to give her that.
In the days that followed, Sitri and Jeralt fell right back into their old routine of walking around the monastery and just… talking. There was much more to talk about now than the last time they had done this. They had twenty years to catch up on, after all.
“I don’t feel like any time at all has passed,” Sitri admitted on one of these strolls. “From my point of view, I was in my chambers with Rhea asking her to save our child’s life, and then I woke up and saw you crying.”
Jeralt tried to cover his embarrassment at that by clearing his throat. It didn’t work, judging by the teasing smirk on Sitri’s face. “Isn’t it disorienting? I mean, you wake up and it’s been twenty years.”
Sitri nodded. “I think it wouldn’t be nearly so bad if you and Rhea had aged along with the rest of the world. There are so many new people and things around, and the fashions and the furniture have changed. Yet you’re the same as ever.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Jeralt asked, already knowing the answer. He smiled at the emphatic way she shook her head.
“Of course it isn’t, darling. It’s just going to take some getting used to.”
Their aimless walk had taken them past the knight’s hall and the officer’s academy. Jeralt realized too late where he had automatically led them. He started to turn towards the chapel, but Sitri stopped him. “Not to be morbid, but I’m curious to see my grave.”
“Won’t that be even more disorienting?” Jeralt asked, but the two of them had already resumed walking. Well, he supposed if it was him, he might be curious too.
Sitri shrugged. “Hopefully it’ll make this all feel more real,” she replied. He had no answer for that. He simply held her arm to steady her as they descended the stone stairs to the cemetery. As the two of them approached her tombstone, she began to smile again. “Someone has been leaving me my favorite flowers.”
Jeralt couldn’t help but laugh at that. “I’m glad you’re pleased with them,” he said.
Sitri sat on the ground next to the stone, and Jeralt followed suit. He supposed if the grave actually held a body this would be disrespectful, but you can’t exactly defile the tomb of someone who was alive. “This is a beautiful place,” she said, smiling. “When I die for real, I would be happy to rest here.”
“As will I,” Jeralt replied. The plot was designed for two people, something he had been both happy and heartbroken to note when he first visited this place. Sitri’s smile faded, turning into a more thoughtful expression. It wasn’t a bad expression, per se, but Jeralt wanted the smile back. “What’s on your mind?”
“I was wondering why you left the monastery after I died,” Sitri said. She didn’t seem upset in the slightest - merely curious.
Jeralt saw that coming eventually, but he was still surprised that she chose this moment to bring it up. “I guess I did gloss over that part of the story,” he admitted. Sitri only crossed her legs and leaned forward, making herself comfortable as she waited for him to continue. “To be honest, I didn’t trust Rhea anymore. She goes into your room alone, and comes out with a baby that doesn’t cry or smile, doesn’t even have a heartbeat. And you’re gone.” Jeralt let out a deep breath, allowed himself to pause and calm himself before continuing. “I knew she had done something, but I didn’t know what. I wasn’t even sure she was telling the truth about you asking to save our baby over you. I just felt like I needed to take our child and leave to keep them safe.”
Sitri nodded. “I understand. Actually, she probably did leave out some of the details.” She frowned slightly as she thought. “So, you picked up on that. It makes sense that you would react that way, then.”
“Do you think I overreacted?” Jeralt asked, before he could think better of it. Looking back on it, he thinks he probably did.
To his surprise though, Sitri smiled. “No, my darling. You were only thinking about our child. You did what you felt you needed to in order to keep them safe.”
Jeralt took little comfort from her approval. “I think it was the wrong choice. I dragged them into mercenary work, of all things.”
“And taught them everything you know so they could fend for themselves,” she interrupted. “Byleth may even be stronger than you at this point. Now they’re making good use of their talents as a teacher.” Sitri covered one of Jeralt’s hands with both of her own. She looked… so happy, and so proud. Jeralt was stunned by the intensity of the expression. “They’ve grown to be someone truly amazing.”
Sitri reached up to touch Jeralt’s cheek at that point. “You make a wonderful father. I hope I can compare as a mother.”
“You will, buttercup,” Jeralt replied, clutching Sitri’s hand that still rested on his. “That child is so much like you. You’ll get along perfectly.”
“I can’t wait to spend more time with them,” she said. “Can we have another one?”
Jeralt’s first reaction was to laugh, even though he knew she meant it with all of her heart. “Sitri, you’re really something, you know that?”
She at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed. “I missed out on Byleth’s childhood,” she said quietly. “As much as I already love them, I wanted so badly to raise a child with you.”
Jeralt felt his heart absolutely melt at that. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” he said, kissing her knuckles. “Your body is still regaining its strength, and we’ve both got a lot to process. But as soon as we’re ready… I would love nothing more.”
Sitri wore the most radiant smile Jeralt had ever seen, but he only saw it for a moment before she threw her arms around him. He caught her, held her as tightly as she held him, and closed his eyes as he savored the moment.
--
The courtyard was absolutely beautiful this time of year despite the lack of flowers around the edges. It seems to be one of Byleth’s favorite places in the entire monastery. Half the time Jeralt runs into them, that’s where they are.
Once again they’re haunting the place, but this time not alone. Sitri sits under a tree next to them as Jeralt watches from a balcony above. Maybe it’s a little creepy for him to watch the two of them like this, but it’s not like he purposely sought them out. He came outside for a breath of fresh air, just for a break, and saw his wife and child talking in the courtyard.
The two of them were absorbed in their conversation, paying no mind to the students surrounding them. This far away, Jeralt couldn’t tell what they were talking about, nor did he care all that much. But as the two of them chatted away and made up for lost time, they looked…happy. Relaxed, for once. Jeralt was never able to look away from the kid’s smile. It made him feel warm, comforted even. Like maybe he did at least a few things right as a father. This moment was the same, and even better because his love was in the picture with them.
Of course, this moment of peace was too good to go uninterrupted. Jeralt didn’t react as he sensed a presence step onto the balcony behind him. From the sound of the footsteps, he already knew exactly who it was. Well, this conversation had to happen sooner or later, he supposed.
Rhea didn’t even bother announcing herself as she stepped up to the railing next to Jeralt. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and nodded, and went back to watching Sitri in the courtyard.
By now she knew him well enough to realize it was an invitation, not a dismissal. She was the one who decided to approach him, so she could start the conversation. He certainly had a lot he could say - but he would hear her out first.
“I’m happy to see the two of them finally getting some time together,” Rhea started, cautious and gentle. “They deserve that happiness.”
Jeralt nodded, still watching his family instead of the woman speaking to him. Byleth said something that made Sitri laugh - that beautiful, dainty giggle of hers just barely carried up to the balcony. Hearing it seemed to delight the kid. Watching the scene made Jeralt feel warm again, made him feel a slight tightness in his chest. His own smile grew so wide his cheeks began to hurt. “They do,” he agreed. He couldn’t even be embarrassed by the dreamy quality his voice had taken on. “You know, I never even saw the kid smile before we returned to the monastery.”
Rhea leaned on the barrier as well, finally relaxing once she determined that Jeralt was not angry, at least not in this moment. “I understand what you must be feeling. I never saw Sitri smile before she fell in love with you, either.” Finally he turned his head to really look at Rhea, to see her soft expression as she watched the pair in the courtyard. Jeralt felt his heart letting go of the last of the bitterness it was holding onto. “I owe you a hundred apologies,” Rhea continued. “I was selfish, but please know I only ever wanted all of us to be happy together. Had I known what would come to pass -”
“You couldn’t have known,” Jeralt interrupted. “Besides, you’re not the only one here that’s made mistakes. Sitri and Byleth have forgiven us both. It’s time we forgive each other, as well.”
The two finally made eye contact, Rhea letting her shock show clearly. “What in the world are you apologizing for?”
“For leaving without a word. For taking the kid with me. For not allowing you a chance to explain yourself, or to atone. And for lying to you when we returned.”
“No, I brought that treatment on myself. I can’t blame you for losing your trust in me, especially not when you were grieving.” Rhea looked ashamed, turning her gaze back to the pair in the courtyard rather than meet Jeralt’s eyes again.
The captain sighed and went back to observing as well. The kid was making exaggerated gestures as they told some story, probably trying to make Sitri laugh again. She watched with delight and fascination. “We’ll call it even, then. Just… no more lies, alright?”
Rhea smiled, a little sheepishly but genuinely. “Yes, that’s only fair.”
--
The dining hall was always crowded and lively, even between mealtimes. This area of the monastery was mostly inhabited by students, but it wasn’t uncommon for the teachers and the knights to join in.
Jeralt usually preferred to eat in less crowded places. Out on missions he doesn’t have much of a choice unless he wants to put himself at risk, so when he does have the freedom to take a meal up to his office he usually does. That was before Sitri, though. She didn’t often participate in whatever chaos large crowds tended to cause, but she loved observing them.
Today the pair of them sat with their backs to a wall, almost but not quite tucked in the corner of the room. The more time that passes, the more energy Sitri seems to have. It’s relieving to see her in such good health. She may even be better off than she was before the birth of their child. Her skin had more color, she wasn’t as winded by the stairs. Their walks around the monastery lasted longer than they had before.
As the two of them ate, she asked him for more stories. She asked what Byleth was like as a kid, all the places they saw together, the people they met. He told it all happily - not because they were all happy stories, or even interesting stories, but because Sitri was hooked on every word.
The commotion of the dining hall was eventually interrupted by the even louder commotion of Leonie and Felix following Byleth into the room. The students were arguing about something or other, their professor looking like they regretted whatever choices brought them to this point. They did notice Jeralt and Sitri though, and gave them a small smile as they passed.
Sitri’s smile grew wider as she turned to Jeralt to note how the students seemed to be comfortable around their child, how they must be a natural teacher and leader to have such an effect on every kid in the school. She positively glowed with pride and joy.
Jeralt wouldn’t dare ask the goddess for anything more than this.