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Adrestian winters may be the mildest in Fódlan, but the cold was biting all the same. Dorothea generally dreaded this time of year. Winter meant frozen streets and a world much more hostile to survival than it already was. It was the kind of chill that clung to her bones, no matter how high she climbed up the social ladder.
And climb it she did. First, onto the dazzling stage of Mittelfrank. Then, to the prestigious halls of the Officer’s Academy. Not that her role as student lasted very long. Perhaps under different circumstances, she would’ve been offended that the position she worked so hard to achieve was cut as abruptly as that. But it wasn’t for naught, and Dorothea certainly couldn’t complain where her path had taken her.
Outside, flurries of ice were tossed by gales of wind, but it was warm inside the imperial palace. Gilded gates and magnificent doors were thrown open for the festivities, letting in people of all walks and keeping the cold and dark of dreaded winter at bay. She had been to a few fancy galas from her opera star days, but she’d never been to the palace before making Edelgard’s acquaintance. Though even the streets of Enbarr were lit with bonfires at each plaza, the dancing flames reflected in multicolored glass that were strung all around the city.
This was Adrestia’s second Winter’s Festival, and Dorothea believed it was only getting better and better by the year. Last year’s Festival had been hectic as the newly crowned emperor’s administration found its footing, but Emperor Edelgard had a firm grasp on the reins and would lead Fódlan to a brighter dawn, starting with her own country.
Supposed to be, the highlight of the Ethereal Moon was Garreg Mach’s Establishment Day. Dorothea had to wonder how the people of the monastery were celebrating now that it was bereft of students. With the Church still in power, the monastery’s establishment was still a major holiday, but with the blessing of Adrestia’s own bishop (Dorothea had snorted at the man’s signature upon the order. Edelgard cheerfully assured her all was according to her plan), the Empire was to spend the holidays in their own way.
“Garreg Mach’s Establishment Day falling on the height of winter is no coincidence,” Edelgard had told Dorothea in the library one night, her eyes gleaming in that manner of hers when she spoke of history or heresy. The book she held was frayed, the cover marred with a stamp declaring it had been to be burned. “Can you honestly believe anyone can finish construction work in the mountains in this weather? Grace of the Goddess be damned, that would certainly be a miracle.”
She opened the book gently, mindful of the delicate pages as she sidled up to Dorothea. To show her its contents, of course. Though that wouldn’t stop her from enjoying the other woman’s warmth or inhaling the lavender scent of her hair.
“Propaganda,” Edelgard said definitively, “as the Church is so adept at wielding. The early Fódlish have been making merry in the dead of winter since even before the children of the Goddess descended upon the continent. The Church refused to tolerate such heathen practices, but they could not simply put a stop to it either. So they made their own holiday and wrote it over the old ways. The Church of Seiros once again seized control of the narrative while the people are kept appeased by their celebrations.”
“I assume we’re not going to be celebrating Garreg Mach Establishment Day,” Dorothea remarked, resting her cheek on the top of Edelgard’s head as she scanned the book in her hands. “And this old celebration…”
“The Winter’s Festival,” Edelgard declared, beaming.
Dorothea squinted at the ancient text, skeptical. What was so good about the coldest, darkest days of the year that it was worth celebrating? Still, Edelgard was staunchly against senseless tradition. She wouldn’t try to bring it back if there wasn’t any merit to it.
As if sensing her thoughts, Edelgard elaborated. “The Winter’s Festival begins after the solstice, when the days begin to lengthen once more. It’s a celebration of light and hope for the coming year, as well as camaraderie through feasts and gift giving. Class barriers were even lifted for the occasion.” She thumbed at an ancient sketch of people dancing around a bonfire. “I certainly find it more charming than anything Seiros has to offer.”
“I’ll say,” Dorothea agreed, grinning slyly. “The gospels never made much sense to me. Why would the Goddess hide away to pray? If She’s so powerful, who does She need to pray to?”
Edelgard returned it with a wicked smirk of her own. She leaned closer, whispering as a lover might. “When times are at their hardest, the Goddess abandons Her people to perform glorified inaction. It has always been up to us to reach out to each other and fend for ourselves. It’s time for Adrestia to stop pleading to an absent deity and see the beauty of humanity all around us, especially in the midst of adversity.”
And so Adrestia had revived the Winter’s Festival.
Dorothea wondered if she should find it embarrassing that it was moments such as those where she found herself falling more and more in love with her revolutionary emperor. The diva had practically made an art out of courting and being courted by, yet Edelgard could somehow woo her by doing anything but.
Their relationship these days was… nebulous. They were intimate in the way that girls were. Sharing their dreams and confidences, seeking each other’s company, or their touch even. And through it all, Dorothea couldn’t tell if Edelgard’s affections for her were mere friendship or something else.
Edelgard was a straightforward person who spoke her thoughts bluntly. Surely if she had any romantic intentions for her, she would’ve said something by now? Dorothea herself was practiced in speaking with artifice yet she was uncertain if she should be forthright or if she should continue to dance on this blurred line until Edelgard let her know what side she was on.
Dorothea peeked into her bag where only two gifts had remained. The first was a pink stocking stuffed with jewelry, topped with poinsettias and candy canes that Edelgard had left at her door before she went to work. It wasn’t signed with a name, but nestled among the red blooms was a perfumed card, “For my dearest friend,” written on it in elegant script. The second was a heart-shaped box of chocolates that Dorothea had bought for her, a sprig of mistletoe tucked into the ribbon that wrapped it.
She had joined Edelgard in the research of the Winter’s Festival and its traditions before its launch, and she knew that Edelgard was just as intrigued about this particular custom as Dorothea was. Once she gives Edelgard her gift, her intentions should be unmistakable.
But the unfortunate fact of the matter was that Dorothea was a coward.
It was late into the night and the celebration at large, and yet she hadn’t so much as spoken to Edelgard. It was easy enough to avoid her. Her Majesty’s duties kept her from mingling freely so Dorothea merely had to stay away from the center of the party. She kept herself busy distributing her other gifts to their friends, and the Winter’s Festival itself certainly provided a wealth of distractions.
The palace had never been so open to commoners before, and they were easy to spot among the nobles from their simpler clothes. Dorothea had even seen some homeless people who initially came for the free food and ended up joining the merriment. The prissier of the noble folk turned up their noses at the “intrusion,” but Hubert had instructed the guards to protect their more vulnerable guests so Dorothea need not fear for their safety.
Speaking of Hubert. Dorothea glanced up as a shadow loomed over her.
“Good evening, Hubie,” she drawled her greeting. “You’re looking awfully cheerful on this fine night.”
Hubert grunted in response. Not even seasonal spirit could coax him from the shadows he liked to drape himself in. He was dressed head to toe in luxurious black wool, easily mistaken for a walking void if not for the white fur trimming. Bernadetta had even gone out of her way to get him inkberries to pin on his lapel instead of the usual holly berries, because evidently Hubert was allergic to colors.
“Good evening to you as well, Dorothea,” he said. To his credit, he was actually smiling tonight. He was also nursing a mug of what smelled to be coffee, which did make him look more visibly relaxed compared to his usual tendency of standing like a statue. “Though I must say, you’re looking rather pensive. I would’ve suggested retiring already, but you haven’t finished all that you have set out to do. Am I correct?”
So he chose violence.
“What are you getting at, Hubie,” she crossed her arms with a huff.
He took a sip of his coffee, unflapped. “Lady Edelgard’s growing weary of the festivities, perhaps it’s time for her to take her leave. She’s in the audience chamber, if you’re interested.”
Dorothea raised a brow. “Are you telling me to tell Edie to take a break? Rather hypocritical of you, unless you were hoping I’ll also tell you to to turn in while I’m at it.”
“Preposterous,” he said dismissively, “I’m still hard at work ensuring nothing untoward happens at the festival. Her Majesty, on the other hand, ran out of speeches several hours ago. She’s already resisted my attempts to get her to retire. Something tells me she’ll be more amenable if it’s you.”
She flushed at the knowing glance Hubert regarded her with. She decided to also choose violence. “Did Edie tell you she’ll turn in when you do?”
Dorothea chortled as he scowled over his mug. “Irrelevant.”
“Whatever you say, Hubie,” she declared in singsong, pivoting on her heel to head for the audience chamber. “I’ll go, since I was planning on seeing Edie anyways.”
“Thank you again for the tome, Dorothea,” Hubert called after her as she marched off. “I’m sure Lady Edelgard would enjoy your gift as well.”
She turned to yell back at him. “You’re very welcome. I’ll get you another so you can stick your nose somewhere other than my affairs!”
Her little chat with Hubert had been invigorating, and she carried that energy with her as she made her way to the audience chamber. The grand hall echoed with festive cheer and Dorothea felt bolstered by their spirit.
Up until she made it to the dais of the emperor’s throne. Her hand, which had been resting on the chocolate box, nervously retreated from her bag. Was she seriously going to give Edelgard her gift in front of all these people?
It didn’t seem like there were many eyes on Her Majesty at that moment, the people drunken or dancing or both. Edelgard seemed sober at least. To those who didn’t know her, the emperor may appear remarkably put together after an entire day of revelry. She sat upon her throne, looking regal and pristine in rich red velvets, trimmed white fur, polished gold buttons gleaming like stars upon her breast.
Dorothea could see she was exhausted though. Edelgard was nearly slouching, as opposed to her usually perfect posture. Her eyes were glazed over as she surveyed her people, but she appeared content.
She suddenly perked up as she heard the click of Dorothea’s heels upon the dais. Lilac eyes brightened as she smiled. “Dorothea! I was wondering if I would see you today. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve thought you were avoiding me.”
While her tone was teasing, Dorothea was uncertain if the crease to her brow meant she felt dejected or if she was simply tired. Guilt nagged at the back of her mind.
“Sorry about that, Edie,” she tried to laugh it off, though she was genuinely contrite. “I guess I got caught up in the celebration. You seemed rather occupied too.”
“I suppose,” Edelgard admitted, glancing at the crowd. “It was quite the negotiation to reconcile the Winter’s Festival with those who remain faithful. Not to mention I’ll need to work on my stamina if a night of dancing can wear me out like this.”
Dorothea shook her head with a chuckle. “No one would blame you for being tuckered out after being hard at work all day. You must’ve been up pretty early considering I didn’t even notice you leave your gift.” Edelgard had seemed quite taken with the fabled Father Frost, though Dorothea hadn’t expected her to actually deliver presents in the ungodly hours of the morning.
The chocolate box suddenly felt poignantly heavy in her bag. “I have a gift for you too, Edie.”
“Is that so?” If it were possible, Edelgard’s eyes seemed to sparkle as she regarded Dorothea with even more interest, festival lights catching in her stare. “I must confess, I felt rather jealous when Monica and Hubert told me they’d received gifts from you yet I haven’t so much as seen you.”
Dorothea’s mouth felt dry. She’d have forced out a laugh if she didn’t think it would turn into a coughing fit.
“Well, I saved the best for last.” She tried for a wink instead. “But this isn’t quite the place for it. What do you say we retire for the night and go to your room?”
Edelgard looked like she was eager to follow before suddenly freezing instead of rising from her throne. “Did Hubert put you up to this?”
Dorothea snorted. “He helped. But I really would like some privacy for this one and you do need to rest.”
“That man really ought to take care of himself for a change, he’s been up for longer than I,” Edelgard scowled. Then she blinked. “Wait, did you say ‘privacy’?”
No turning back now, Dorothea thought to herself. She placed her hand on Edelgard’s arm. “Edie, please?”
“I suppose it’s late. And it doesn’t appear that my further presence is needed…” Edelgard conceded, a rosy blush tinting her cheeks. “Very well. Shall we?”
The imperial palace was enormous, and even after two years of residing in it, Dorothea had yet to see all it had to offer. But the path to the emperor’s quarters was well familiar to her and they made their way in companionable silence.
Once inside, Edelgard went about tossing logs into the hearth as Dorothea made herself comfortable on the couch.
“Here, Let me take care of that,” Dorothea said, lobbing a small fireball onto the wood, setting it to a crackling blaze.
“Thank you kindly,” Edelgard chuckled as she sat down next to her.
She grinned back, slipping off her arm length woolen gloves to bask in the warmth of the fireplace.
“So,” Edelgard began, leaning close. “What’s this gift you got for me?”
“My, my, how eager.” Dorothea laughed, but if she kept them in suspense for any longer, it would drive them both crazy. She reached into her bag to retrieve the box. “Without further ado, happy Winter’s Festival, Edie!”
Edelgard smiled broadly as she accepted the heart-shaped box, then her mouth fell open as she beheld it, fingers brushing against the mistletoe. “You know what this means, don’t you, Dorothea?”
“Absolutely! I have to give you a kiss, right?” Dorothea grinned, heart thundering in her chest as she plucked the lid off. “Ta da!”
Inside the box were pieces of chocolate in the shape of droplets. The confections were popular in Enbarr and charmingly named.
“Chocolate kisses, I see,” Edelgard said after a beat. “How clever.”
Dorothea really was a coward.
Her heart was still racing and while it could’ve been her imagination, she could’ve sworn Edelgard had looked disappointed for a fraction of a second. She tried to calm herself as she fluttered her lashes. “Didn’t you say before you wanted nothing more than to stay in your room and gorge yourself on sweets? Well, that’s my gift for you.”
“And I appreciate it. Thank you, Dorothea.” Edelgard hovered her hand over the chocolates to get one, but then frowned at her white gloves.
Before she could deign to remove them, Dorothea spoke up, suddenly breathless. “Please, allow me.”
Edelgard’s curious look immediately widened, flustered, as Dorothea picked up a piece of chocolate and brought it toward Edelgard’s lips.
“Well?” Dorothea prompted, feeling all at once like she was on fire and buried in snow.
“Err…” Edelgard’s eyes darted between Dorothea’s own and the sweet held between them.
Tentatively, she parted her lips and allowed Dorothea to feed her. Whatever reservations she held seemed to melt with the chocolate in her mouth. She let out a pleased hum, savoring the taste of it.
“I take it you like it then?” Dorothea allowed her hand to drop into her lap, her fingertips tingling where they’d brushed against Edelgard’s lips. “I’m glad.”
“Dorothea, this is delicious,” she said earnestly, offering up the box. “Have you tried them? You simply must.”
“That’s your gift, Edie,” Dorothea laughed. “You don’t have to share.”
Edelgard shook her head, smiling gently. “You can’t expect me to eat all this by myself. I insist, you should try some.”
“Oh alright.” Dorothea reached into the box of kisses again. As she favored the chocolate in her hand, glancing between it and Edelgard, a thought occurred to her. She gathered her courage. If she couldn’t broach their relationship now, when would she ever?
“Edie?” she called, her fingers trembled ever so slightly but she willed them to still. “I could still give you that other kiss if you want it.”
Dorothea let a smile spread across her lips, slow and sweet as syrup, as she brought the chocolate to her own mouth. Not to eat it, but to hold it there between her teeth. She waggled her eyebrows suggestively at Edelgard.
Perhaps on a later occasion, Dorothea could properly relish the look on Edelgard’s face. A blush had taken over her countenance, made warmer in the light of the hearth. There was something tantalizing about how off guard she was in that moment, eyes wide and shimmering, mouth slightly agape. Currently, however, Dorothea feared her own expression wasn’t much better.
She was about to change her mind and just eat the chocolate out of embarrassment when Edelgard leaned in. “I very much want it,” she breathed, her hands resting on Dorothea’s shoulders as she slowly brought their faces together.
Dorothea brought her own hands up, one to thread into her silver silk tresses, the other to gently cup her cheek as she drew her in for a kiss.
Their lips touched. Her mouth parted as Dorothea pushed the chocolate gently into her mouth, her tongue brushing against lips, teeth, Edelgard’s own. She gave her bottom lip a light nibble as she pulled back, marvelling in the sight and feel of her.
Edelgard’s expression appeared dazed, starstruck even. Dorothea chuckled as she brushed the bangs away from her face, finding herself unable to let go now that she held her in her arms. “Did you like it?” she asked coyly.
“Mmm, quite.” Edelgard murmured around the chocolate, unable to hide her grin. “But I believe I was rather insistent about sharing. You haven’t tasted it yet, have you?”
“I suppose I’ll have to indulge.”
Dorothea pulled her in, placing her smile in hers and slipping her tongue inside once more. The kiss had melted in the heat of her mouth, greeting Dorothea with creamy chocolate and gooey caramel. Edelgard moaned, softly, and she found the sound far more delicious than any treat.
They had swallowed down the chocolate long before they parted, sweetened breath mingling as they beheld each other for a moment. Somewhere along the way, Dorothea had been pushed onto her back, meanwhile Edelgard’s coat was falling off her shoulders.
“How was it? Edelgard asked between pants for breath, licking her lips. “Good?”
Dorothea pulled her back down in response. “I can’t get enough.”