Chapter Text
It had taken only a day.
In a day, all of Fódlan had been thrown into a chaos not a single person standing on its surface could have possibly anticipated or even imagined—and, Edelgard mused, most of the people underneath (she hoped, at least). But now the dawn had come; as uncertain as all the days to follow would be, it was time to face them.
Framed by the light of the rising sun as it spilled over the monastery walls, Edelgard stood before her gathered Black Eagles, her professor Byleth Eisner, and the newcomer who had shattered all of Fódlan’s norms the moment she had stepped through the monastery’s front gate: a queen of a foreign kingdom not to the north or south or east or west of Fódlan but rather beneath it, hailing from a kingdom of monsters sealed by a nigh-impassable magical barrier within a mountain in the heart of Faerghus.
She was Queen Toriel Dreemurr of the Kingdom of Monsters. Six foot eight if she were an inch, making even the ever-looming Hubert seem tiny in comparison, resembling a human only in the sense that she stood as tall and proudly as one and had the normal amount of limbs. White-furred, horned, a melange of goat, bear, and rabbit, crowned and clad in royal purple robes. Her gentle smile and the warmth in her crimson eyes were soft and inviting; though her paws were clawed and her broad snout hiding sharp fangs, there was no threat to them.
“My Black Eagles,” Edelgard addressed them all, “Professor Byleth… Toriel.” It felt oddly disrespectful to address a foreign queen so informally as much as it felt right. After what had happened yesterday, one could certainly say that Edelgard and Toriel were on a first-name basis. “I do apologize for waking you so early, considering how late last night’s revelries went on. But after what happened yesterday, I’m afraid there is little time to rest on our laurels.”
Ferdinand and Petra stood at attention, both the proverbial bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, which was no less than one would expect. Caspar was ever so slightly bouncing on the balls of his feet in a sort of half-boxing stance. Linhardt suppressed a yawn, and Edelgard appreciated his valiant, though losing struggle against his own fatigue. Dorothea, rubbing the sleep from her own eyes, gently shook his shoulder to help keep him awake.
Bernadetta had strategically placed herself behind Byleth, hunched over to ensure she took up as little space as possible. Yet she was also the first to speak. She timidly raised a trembling hand, as though she were still in class. “Um, Lady Edelgard?” she squeaked.
“Yes, Bernadetta?” Edelgard asked her. “Do you have something to ask?”
She nodded. “Um… D-Did what we all saw happen yesterday… really happen?”
Byleth laid a hand upon their heart. Beneath their clothes, the edges of tightly wound bandages peeked out. “I think I’ll have the scar to prove it for a while,” they said, and their deadpan expression conveyed an odd sort of toneless warmth, characteristic of their stoic demeanor.
“We were not celebrating last night for nothing,” Toriel reminded Bernadetta. “That, too, really happened. And speaking of things that really happened—Petra, was it? You must show me again that dance you and Dorothea were doing.”
Hubert cleared his throat before Petra could answer. “There will be time for that later,” he said. “Go on, Lady Edelgard.”
“Thank you, Hubert.” Edelgard nodded. “Right now, I need to speak to you all about the future. I cannot say with any certainty that I know what will happen now, but I believe I can hazard a guess.” She looked Toriel in the eyes, craning her head to close the entire eighteen inches that separated their lines of sight. “Please remind me, Toriel—the Kingdom of Monsters is underneath Mount Ebott in northern Brennius territory, is it not?”
Toriel nodded. “That is right—my kingdom is due north of here,” she told her.
“And in the heart of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus,” she continued. “Between Duscur and Sreng, we know what the Kingdom of Faerghus does to the people who live on land they see as ‘rightfully theirs,’ under the auspices of the Church’s teachings. When Dimitri recovers from his injuries, I doubt he will be so keen on peaceful coexistence anymore. Nor will Rhea… or rather, Seiros.”
“But Lady Rhea’s locked up in her own dungeon right now,” Caspar interjected. “I mean, uh… Lady Seiros. She’s taken care of, right?”
“The sight of her transforming into a great white dragon and exploding her own audience chamber in her metamorphosis, was truly a ghastly one,” Hubert mused, raising an eyebrow, “but hardly one that will spell the end of the Church that is her namesake, I’d imagine.”
“I’m certain that by rook or by crook, Seiros will return to the top of her church’s hierarchy soon enough,” Edelgard agreed. “And while Seteth, or whichever saint he might be—”
“Probably Cichol,” Linhardt interjected.
“Definitely Cichol,” Dorothea said.
“He looks just like Cichol’s statue; it’s like he wasn’t even trying to hide it—”
Edelgard talked over them, a bit more forcefully, to remind them to be quiet. “—while Seteth may be in charge now, I hardly expect the Church to change its priorities all that much in the grand scheme of things. Faerghus and the Church are so heavily intertwined as to practically be one and the same…”
“…Which means,” Toriel concluded soberly, her scarlet eyes downcast, “that my kingdom is surrounded on all sides by the very same enemy that imprisoned us beneath the mountain so long ago. I doubt Seiros will show mercy to us a second time.”
“Yes,” Edelgard said. “Fortunately, it will take some time for the Church and Kingdom to settle down—time which we desperately need. To defend its very existence, the Monster Kingdom will need the full might of the Adrestian Empire on its side.”
“And the full might of Claude, for what that’s worth,” Dorothea added, “right, Edie?”
“‘For what that’s worth’ is right,” Hubert scoffed, crossing his arms. “We should not expect any swift aid to come from so disorganized a political bloc as the Leicester Alliance. It takes the Alliance Roundtable a week to decide on the morning’s breakfast.”
“Sadly, you are both correct. I’m certain Claude will aid us however he can, so long as it benefits him,” Edelgard surmised, “but I wouldn’t expect the Leicester Alliance to exactly leap to interfere in the Kingdom and Empire’s affairs. But I digress. The point of the matter is, even I cannot bring Adrestia’s army to bear as I am now—merely a crown princess, while the lord regent holds the empire’s reins. I must head to Enbarr posthaste and claim the throne and authority of the Emperor of Adrestia without delay.”
Gasps rang out among the Black Eagles. Though he stayed silent and kept his lips pressed tightly and thinly together, Hubert’s eyes widened. He alone knew what Edelgard’s proclamation truly entailed.
The rot that had festered for so long in Enbarr had to be excised, for the good of all of Fódlan—and it had to be excised swiftly if Toriel’s people could have any chance at surviving. Not a moment could be wasted.
“I will not force any of you to travel at my side,” Edelgard told her classmates—former classmates. “But I invite you all to do so, if you wish.”
Byleth looked to each of their students in turn, then cocked their head, as though listening to a voice only they could hear.
“And as for you, my teacher,” Edelgard added, “I won’t make any assumptions about the status of your teaching contract—”
“I think that’s moot,” Byleth answered. “My boss just tried to kill me.”
“Is it? Well, then. I’d be honored to have your company as well… though if you’d like to return to mercenary work…”
Byleth wrinkled their brow, as though considering the possibility.
“I think I can speak for us all,” Ferdinand said, wearing that cocky smile of his that shone like a midday sun, “when I say we would be honored to accompany you, Lady Edelgard.” The rest of the class nodded in agreement. “In fact, I, Ferdinand von Aegir, would insist on being present for the occasion.”
For a moment, those words sounded foreign to Edelgard’s ears—as though she’d been so certain she would not hear them spoken so earnestly that her brain could not parse their meaning.
“Thank you,” she said, once she’d realized what he’d said and what he’d meant… though she wondered what he might think of the fate she had in store for his father. “All of you, get ready, then—time is of the essence. Although, Toriel, I’d like to take you aside and have a word with you in private first.”
Toriel nodded. “Of course, Edelgard. I shall even grant you the honor of having several words with me,” she giggled, though the laughter and smile felt strained and forced.
Edelgard forced a smile back, and found it much easier to do so than she’d expected. Perhaps a little bit of Toriel’s sense of humor had already rubbed off on her. “Thank you, Toriel. Now, if you would follow Hubert and myself…”
Byleth and the Black Eagles scattered for their dormitories to prepare for the trip ahead, and Edelgard reminded herself to remind them that they should be ready to take up arms—the monsters (no offense to Toriel and her kingdom) who held Adrestia in their clutches were not going to relinquish their ill-gotten power without a fight. She led Hubert and Toriel across the dew-soaked grass of the monastery lawn.
“Toriel,” Edelgard said, “if you wish to return to Mount Ebott and help your kingdom defend itself, then do so. I know you left your husband and son behind in coming here… and that you’ve lost one child already. If it would give you peace of mind, then go to them and place your trust in me to…”
She found herself trailing off, as Toriel had just laid a massive paw atop her head, white fur against white hair, and the gentle pressure made it suddenly very difficult to maintain a coherent train of thought.
“And miss your coronation?” Toriel asked with a bittersweet little smile, patting her on the head. “My home will be fine for now. As you said, it will be a while before anything happens. And when it does, there is my husband, King Asgore, and Captain Gerson, the Hammer of Justice, and… well, those are the two strongest monsters we have, but they are quite strong. Right now, I believe I can do the most good with you.”
“You flatter me,” Edelgard said.
“Oh, don’t be so coy,” Toriel said. “Yesterday, our souls combined gave rise to the mighty Queen of Flames. I doubt we will ever accomplish such a feat again—and yet I have the suspicion you might still need me at your side.” She scratched her furry chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps something I saw in your heart while we were fused gave me that impression…”
Edelgard could feel something inside her squirm, as though deep down, there was a part of her that was still a child, and that child had just been caught trying to sneak off with a handful of ill-gotten sweets.
“And besides,” Toriel added, this time resting her paw firmly on her shoulder, “the Kingdom of Monsters needs a representative to address the Flame Emperor’s court, does it not?”
“I suppose it does,” Edelgard said. “I won’t let you down, then, Toriel. Hubert and I shall prepare ourselves for departure; we’ll all leave after breakfast.”
They went their separate ways, leaving Edelgard alone with Hubert. He clung to her like a shadow—a worried, fretting, uncharacteristically nervous shadow.
“Is something wrong?” she asked him.
His gaze failed to meet hers. “Are you certain, Lady Edelgard,” he asked, “that we should move against Duke Aegir and Those Who Slither in the Dark now of all times?”
“I know you would rather be cautious about it, Hubert,” Edelgard said, “but now is our best opportunity to rid ourselves of their noxious influence. Queen Toriel is an outside-context problem—something those low men could not possibly see coming. We have an advantage they couldn’t possibly foresee or prepare for; should we strike swiftly and strike hard, our enemies within the Empire will be crushed. With Toriel’s help, I—” She swallowed a lump in her throat; for the first time the full weight of what she was planning truly settled upon her brow, like the crown she would one day wear. “I can take my home back from the villains who have defiled it for so many years.”
Hubert’s hard yellow-green eyes softened. A slight smile curled the corners of his mouth. “Of course, Lady Edelgard. As always,” he said with a bow, “I am yours to command; I suppose I should send word to Leopold and Waldemar to expect your arrival, then?”
“If you would, sooner rather than later. And let Jeritza know what’s going on—I feel we may need all the muscle we can get.” Edelgard looked up to the dawn sky, its cloud-streaked vistas painted in whorls of lavenders, pinks, and oranges. Her hand curled into a fist.
The reign of the Queen of Flames, she thought, reflecting on how it had felt yesterday when she and Toriel had joined their hearts, souls, and even their very bodies themselves together, was only just beginning.
As Hubert hurried off to notify her allies in Enbarr of her sudden change of plans, Edelgard could have sworn she saw a flash of movement in the opposite corner of her line of sight, just out of focus—a faint impression of a young child standing beside her, with a mop of cinnamon hair and wide red eyes—but just as soon as she had caught sight of that vestigial, oddly familiar phantom, it was gone.