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Byleth had always loved autumn.
When she was barely a little kid, wandering through the continent alongside her father, she remembered seeing the seasons pass in awe. They traveled from one place to another, in a group of mercenaries that, like them, had devoted their lives to the job. Looking back on it, those seemed like simpler, happier times. Distorted by her childhood’s memories, every month felt like a year, and each of them like a lifetime full of joy.
Spring had always been beautiful. She enjoyed seeing the flowers in full bloom, nature displaying its most explendid gems before their eyes. Summer felt just like a reprise, a prolongation of that state, only invigorated by the warmth and vitality of youth.
But autumn… Autumn had been something different.
To Byleth, accustomed to a life full of action, autumn had felt like a quiet intermission. Everything seemed to slow down, then. The world around her seemed to be preparing for something new: something big. Even the scenery began to change, leaves of brown and yellow pilling on the roads they traveled through: a premonition of what was to come.
She had no way of understanding back then, but autumn had felt sweet and sour. An anticipation of the stillness of winter.
It had been autumn too, when five years ago she descended for the first time the road to Rhodos Coast, a chilly afternoon of Ethereal Moon. Death had come soon thereafter.
It was winter that day she returned.
---
The sun had already begun to set by the time Seteth and Byleth began to set up their campament.
They had had a rough day. The road to Rhodos Coast had been long, and the battle they had to endure shortly after arriving had been quick, but fierce nonetheless. The pretext for their trip had been to intercept -under Claude’s orders- some information from a battalion of the Empire, but in truth, both Byleth and Seteth had selfish reasons to volunteer for that mission.
In the course of the past five years, some of the Empire’s sympathizers had taken a liking to roaming around Fodlan, destroying and defiling whatever religious monuments they encountered as an act of defiance against the Church of Seiros. Rhodos Coast was a sacred spot and so it was no surprise that it was targeted. But it was also a resting point: a cemetery. Underneath the sand and the centuries of history laid the remains of a long lost civilization. And on Saint Cichol’s Shrine, concretely, laid the bones of someone very dear to Seteth.
The idea of seeing that grave profaned was horrifying to him and as such, he hadn’t hesitated a single moment to take the job. Byleth had chosen to accompany him, as well, not wanting him to undertake such a dangerous task on his own.
From a strategic point of view, their trip had proven to be fruitless in the end: their enemies seemed for the most part ignorant of any relevant intelligence and the missive they had been sent to find was nowhere to be seen. From a personal point of view, however, the mission was quite the success. The coast had been cleared of threats and for a good while the only thing that would taint the shrines and monuments there would be the salty water of the ocean.
They had agreed that they would set up their camp before night came, and would heal any wounds after they had lit a fire. However, once those tasks were done, Seteth had excused himself for a short while. As he paid his respects to his late wife’s grave, Byleth stared at the thin line that blurred between sea and sky, thinking of her memories of the place. The coast was a reminder of what she had had to part with.
The last time she had visited it, five years ago, had been for similar reasons: the Western Church had seized the place, and she had traveled together with Seteth to reclaim it. Even though the occasion hadn’t been a happy one, its conclusion had. Few things had been lost that day, and many gained, for it had been the first time Seteth had truly opened his heart to her.
After the battle, she had bathed in the seashore, feeling an indescriptible sense of bliss. She hadn’t been alone, of course: alongside her had been her students, but most importantly, alongside her had been her father. She recalled the peacefulness on his face; the wrinkles that formed at the corners of his eyes whenever he smiled. It had been an unusual sight back then, though not as unusual as Byleth’s own smirk.
Very soon after, she had to say goodbye to that sight forever. Not even a month later, her father had died in her arms, stabbed in the heart. Everything that had come after had ended in tragedy and war. It had been the most bitter winter in her life: a winter that seemed to never end.
To others, there had been five long years to digest change, death and pain, but Byleth acutely felt their absence. Instead, she had spent those last years stuck in a limbo: not dead, but not quite alive either, the only thing keeping her breathing being the power within herself, no doubt. Now that she had to face the world again, she felt unable to. She couldn’t grasp inside of her that strength everyone had acclaimed her for.
Lost in her thoughts, Byleth didn’t notice night had fallen until Seteth came back. It felt like he had been gone for a long time, but in truth it had been only a few minutes. And yet, Byleth’s newfound feelings had quickly sent her spiraling into depression. They returned to their improvised campsite and sat quietly by the fire. Fixing her eyes on it, she allowed Seteth to heal her wounds in the dim light it projected.
“You are terribly reckless.” he scolded her, as he applied an ointment into the sharp cuts in her biceps. This wound was not deep, having been caused by a fierce but inexperienced soldier; but it stung nonetheless when remedy came in contact with flesh. The pain was not unwelcomed, however. Oddly enough, it kept Byleth anchored to that moment, unable to drift away into contemplation. "Did you not see that soldier approach? For the love of Sothis, Byleth, I thought you less impulsive."
“Quit scolding me, will you? I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have.” she replied, in a somewhat blunt manner. She regretted her tone almost immediately but, truth be told, she was in no mood for a fight.
Seteth frowned, perplexed. It was clear he hadn’t expected such a response. Her words stung somewhat, even more so because she was objectively right.
“If that is what you wish, I won’t bother you any longer.” he conceded, still baffled. “But you should know my remarks are born out of concern, not any wish to irritate you.”
“Well, they inconvenience me all the same.” she answered again, in the same cold tone. “Besides, I’m not the only reckless one here, but you don’t hear me complaining.”
These replies were now beginning to annoy Seteth. Had it been someone else, he would have reacted much differently: maybe he would have ignored them, or perhaps walked away. Maybe he would have scolded them even further. But this was Byleth, and he cared for her. Deeply so. At times, much more than he wished to admit.
That was all the more reason to make an effort. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his calm as he thought of what to say next. As he figured out how to approach the issue, he occupied himself wrapping a bandage around her injured arm.
“That is uncalled for.” he finally began. He was met with a hiss in response, but he was unable to tell if it was due to his words or the sudden friction with the wound. “If I may be honest, I don’t see why you are acting this way with me.”
“Of course you don’t.” she said, her melancholy visibly turning into infuriation with every passing second. She shot him an angry glance but he did not notice it, too focused on the task at hand. “It is clear only I was in danger today. It’s not like you recklessly put your life on the line, like you always do. Silly me.”
“You are taking your frustration out on me and I don’t understand why.” he keenly pointed out. “It’s clear you are upset about something but I have no way to know what if you refuse to talk to me.”
“You want to talk? Fine! How about you stop avoiding the topic?” she prompted, shifting abruptly in her seat.
“Be careful- If you move too much you will pull out the stitches-” he tried to warn her. But Byleth was angry, and withdrew from his reach in one swift motion. A sharp pain shot up her arm: just like Seteth had tried to tell her, some of her wounds had reopened. The bandage half way wrapped around it began to soak in blood.
Seteth could feel the tension in the air: it was so thick he could have cut it with a knife. He clicked his tongue. “Goddess…! I am no expert healer Byleth, you need to be careful-”
“Quit that!” she shouted back at him. A loud silence rang between them. They held it for a few seconds, until finally Byleth crumbled and, bending over herself, began to weep. Seteth was alarmed.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” he sprang forward to hold her tight, lest she would fall on the floor. She seemed out of strength right there and then, more fragile than he had ever seen her. She felt indeed like porcelain about to break, no shade of the great warrior she was meant to be left on her.
A sob escaped her “Y-You are right. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, Seteth..”
“It’s alright. It’s alright” he said, wrapping his arm around her. He pulled her head into his chest, stroking her hair softly “Don’t worry about that now. It’s fine. I’m here.”
She let out a low cry, then, and for a few minutes the rest of the world ceased to exist. All Seteth could feel was the way in which she shaked against him, sobbing unrestrained. He kept trying to soothe her, repeating once and again those same words, “It’s alright… I’m here…” until she seemed to calm down somewhat.
“What is going on, my love?” he finally dared to ask. Tilting her chin up with one of his fingers, he guided her eyes to his. Her cheeks were wet, and her expression shook him to his core. Byleth rarely spoke of her emotions, and so at times he found himself stumbling into unknown territory when it came to them. But now, what she was feeling was clearer than the sky after the rain. She wore an expression of such profound grief that it took him great effort not to weep as well.
Breaking eye contact, Byleth whispered. “You were right. This was all uncalled for. I am just- I-... I feel-”
A brief frustrated sound followed, and Seteth understood words weren’t coming to her like she wished they would. “How about we sit down and you let me finish healing those wounds of yours?” he gently asked. “I will listen to you while we do so, yes?”
She held his gaze and nodded, grateful. They returned to their seats next to the fire. Again, there was a short silence, in which Seteth busied himself healing Byleth’s newly opened wound. Thankfully, she hadn’t done as much damage to herself as he feared, and so, despite his limited skill in magic, the bleeding stopped in no time. Carefully, he cleaned the dry blood around the cut.
“You were right in what you said.” she admitted, in half a whisper. She had her head down, avoiding eye contact once more, but in the golden light of the fire Seteth could see she seemed in pain. Not physical pain; she ached in a different way. “I was letting out my emotions on you, but that is not fair. You didn’t do anything to deserve that treatment.”
“I do have to admit, however, that I can be a bit too much at times.” he conceded, apologetic. “You had every right to call me out on my behavior. I, too, acted recklessly.”
“You always do, but that’s not the point.” Byleth replied, defeated. “It’s frustrating that you seem to ignore my concern, but I did walk into danger mindlessly today.”
“I am sorry, Byleth. I didn’t mean to dismiss your feelings…In all honesty, I just meant to protect you.”
“Have you ever stopped to think I just want to protect you too?” She said, in a firm voice. Her eyes glimmered in the dark, reflecting the light of the bonfire. Seteth felt ashamed of himself. “I suppose this is just what you are used to, but when you put yourself in danger out there… It scares me as well. You seem to think risking your life is acceptable because you are the dispensable one, but that’s just selfish. I care about you too! I-I know what it is to lose someone you love-...”
She was forced to stop, her voice faltering. She breathed in even intervals, trying to avoid breaking into sobs again.
"You are too smart to throw yourself into battle without any kind of strategy, but were it not for that, that infuriating self-sacrificing nature of yours would have gotten you killed a long time ago." She finished at last.
Seteth was robbed of all speech, taken aback by her honesty. It wounded him but she was right, of course: losing people he cared for was unbearable for him and so he often neglected his well-being in order to protect others. His daughter had, on some occasion, raised those same concerns but he had always turned a deaf ear to them. It struck him now just how truly blind he had been.
“I’m sorry, my love.” Byleth did not reply. “You are right. I have a tendency to overprotect those around me, while I put little thought in my own safety. There’s nothing I may say that can make up for what I’ve already done… But I thank you for speaking to me.”
“If something were to happen to you… I don’t know what I would do.” she confessed.
With some effort, he continued. “I shall… endeavor to do better, then. As much as it costs me. I would not want to be the cause of your pain.” he tried, once again, to wrap a bandage around her arm. Then, he inquired: “Is that why you rushed into battle like you did today? You were afraid for me?”
Byleth eluded his gaze again, but allowed him to finish his work.
“... I was afraid. But no.”
The crackle of wood and flames filled the silence.
“Then why...?”
“When I was younger, whenever I would feel upset I would… run to get my sword.” she explained. “ My father… well, you know. I think at times he felt a little lost, too. I never spoke much, never communicated how I felt… but I knew how to fight. And so… Well, we fought. I suppose it’s all I ever knew and it helped to let out those emotions.”
Seteth respectfully kept quiet.
“I guess it’s not really a healthy thing to do either.” she laughed nervously. “I was quite the odd child, don’t you think? I guess I still am.”
He tied a knot at the end of the bandage, and caressed her arm tenderly. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Byleth… Sometimes emotions overwhelm us. I suppose that must be what happened here today, too.”
“... I think so.”
“I see. So then…you were feeling unwell?”
This time, Byleth only nodded in response. Seteth could see she was blinking furiously, as if to fight back the tears.
“We came here… five years ago. Do you remember?” she managed at last.
He remembered, of course. How could he ever forget? Every single memory of Rhodos Coast was fresh on his mind. Every trip there brought equal pain and joy.
“I do remember.”
“This place… it just reminds me so much of my father…” she let out.
Seteth finally understood what she had been trying to say. Looking at her, he was reminded of himself, so many years ago. After Sothis’ death, the loss of his wife and the condition his daughter was left in, he too had felt unable to go on. He had been completely alone for many, many years. Sometimes, he looked back on the past and wondered how he had managed to make it that far.
“Byleth…” he muttered, reaching to hold her hand. She began to cry again, grievously.
“Does one ever- does one ever recover from this…?” she hiccuped, covering her eyes with one hand. “It’s been months but I still miss him so much, Seteth. I miss my father so very much-...”
“I’m so sorry, my love. I’m so sorry…” he whispered, moving closer to embrace her again. He had no words to comfort her, and so he just held her tightly.
“This feeling… it never seems to go away. I keep wondering… why did it have to be him? It could have been anyone else but him-...”
He clutched her hand tightly, as if breaching the space between them could somehow ease her suffering. He wanted to hold her in his arms and never let go.
“You know… when my wife died, I felt like that too.” he muttered. “Flayn was… she was injured, as you might know already. My entire world seemed to be crumbling around me. We lost so, so many people…” he shook his head.
Even now, in the dim light, he thought he could see the faces of those he once held dear. Blurred, erased by time, but the faint memory of them still alive.
“In times like those, it is easy to get lost in those questions. Was it something we did? Did we bring that fate upon ourselves? What did we ever do to deserve such punishment…? But, you see… there aren’t always answers for everything, my love. The only thing we know for certain is that the past cannot be changed. Such loss… I do not think one can ever fully recover from it, you know? The grief is always there… but one must learn to live with it. At first it is so overwhelming that you do not know if you will ever make it back… If you will ever be yourself again. But eventually, as time goes on, you realize it is possible. Life brings about new things… new beginnings.”
Byleth squeezed his hand, still trembling.
“We must believe one can come back from it.” he whispered softly, tucking a strand of hair behind one of her ears. “But until you do, I'm here, my love... You are not alone.”
The night was now a little less dark, the moon having risen on the sky as they talked. It was cold, though not very windy, and the warmth of the fire and each other’s bodies was soothing. Soon Byleth found herself easing into deep, even breaths. Seteth caressed her cheek with his thumb, lovingly.
The dread and feeling of despair wasn’t completely gone, but she felt sheltered there, in his arms. It gave her a little hope.
“Can I ask something of you?” she whispered, voice low.
“Of course, my love. Anything you wish.”
“Would you hold me tonight…?” she asked, weakly. “Please… don’t let go of me.”
Seteth felt something clutching at his heart. He kissed her brow, tenderly. It was him that fought back tears, now. “Of course I will. I shall not leave your side for a second.”
They dozed off soon after, entwined together below the starry sky. The last of embers eventually died off and, bundled in a thick cloak, Byleth dreamt of familiar yet distant landscapes. At long last dawn came again and she woke up, still in her lover’s arms. He had kept his promise even in his sleep. Now, he was still in deep slumber, but his face had a peaceful expression. She took notice of the way in which his eyes creased at the corners and quietly thanked life for crossing their paths.
There were still many winter days left, but that morning the sun seemed to shine brighter and the sea less eager to crash its waves against the shore. They exchanged few words as they collected their belongings and followed the road home in a companionable silence. By noon, they were already deep in the country.
Rhodos coast was left behind, like a bittersweet memory.