Chapter Text
It was the third time that week he'd overslept. The cathedral bells tolled the hour as Byleth slammed back the last of his breakfast. The students of the New Officer's Academy must be staring at him, but he didn’t care. He wasn't a professor anymore.
He was going to be something much more important and sooner than he would like. One of these days, Seteth was likely going to ask him to stop taking his meals in the dining hall altogether. Byleth wasn't sure yet if he would listen. He hadn't decided yet what sort of archbishop he was going to be. Did Garreg Mach need a more engaged leader, someone approachable, relatable?
Or did they just need someone punctual?
Already late, Byleth bussed his dishes rather than leaving them and dashed out the door. He ran across the gardens, rounding the corner at precisely the worst moment.
The collision was softened by the stack of papers that were now fluttering around them.
"Excuse me, I'm so sorry, I—" Byleth dropped to his knees, already scrambling to pick up the mess he made, and stopped mid-sentence when he recognized the pair of pointed boots in front of him. He sat back on his heels and looked up. There were so few familiar faces at the monastery these days. What he wouldn't give to run into him at a better time. "Yuri?"
"Now there's a sight I haven't seen in a while," Yuri said, smirking down at him.
"Ha," Byleth huffed, face flushed from being out of breath. Probably. "Maybe if you'd seen me sooner this wouldn't have—I mean we wouldn't—" Tongue-tied, he shifted his focus to the mess he'd made as he snatched up more papers. "I mean, I didn't see you either, it's not your fault—"
"No, no," Yuri denied just as quickly. "It's my own fault for taking my work home with me. I don't know why I insist on carting these back and forth every day…"
Yuri ran his palm up his forehead and pulled a fistful of lavender hair into his fingers. Damn, but it was getting long. Byleth watched as Yuri shook his head and sighed before he let it go. The fringe fell free first, still short enough as it fell to frame his face just so. It struck Byleth then, as the longer locks lay over Yuri's shoulders, that there was no one else he would rather steal a minute with than this beautiful, beautiful man. What followed were two simultaneous realizations:
He was staring.
And he was late.
"I'm sorry, I—I have to go. Seteth, he'll—"
Yuri chuckled. "He'll filet me right alongside you if I delay you. Go."
Byleth handed over the papers and hurried on his way, wondering why in the world he noticed when their hands touched, and why right alongside you kept playing over and over in his head.
‘*’~‘*’~‘*’
"Can I put my arms down now?"
"Just one," the tailor said. "Flex a little?" They crossed to his other side. "I said a little."
Byleth rolled his eyes and relaxed his arm as the tailor moved to measure his bicep. "I can't believe I missed lunch for this."
"You missed lunch because we had to reschedule the contractor's meeting," Seteth corrected him without looking up from his notes. "Which you missed because you overslept."
"I overslept because I'm exhausted, Se—" Byleth cleared his throat. "Advisor."
Damn Seteth and his formalities. Byleth didn't see why they had to do everything so by-the-book. If he was so uniquely qualified to be the new archbishop, surely they didn't need to bother with all of this. He certainly didn't need new robes. Yet here he was, standing in Seteth's office, posing with his arm out, like when his portrait was painted in front of the cathedral last week.
Seteth put down his work. "If you paid attention during last night's service, then you—"
"After the Rite rehearsal?" Byleth asked. "And the meeting with the ambassador, the cardinals—"
"Turn around for me please?" the tailor asked, politely ignoring their argument. "And put your arm down."
"Thank Sothis," Byleth said, the usage startling the tailor. "Who watches over us from above," he added as piously as he could manage.
He hoped she was watching. Someone had to be having a good time right now.
"If you took these matters seriously, Lord Byleth—don't roll your eyes at me. If you took these matters seriously, they would go much faster. Active listening is a vital skill for…"
Lectures, Byleth thought. His time as a professor had long since passed, but it seemed lectures were going to be a part of his reality for some time. Seteth droned on, and Byleth struggled to pay attention. His speech was giving him a strange sense of deja-vu, like he'd heard it before. It sounded a lot like the lecture Byleth received after his first meeting with Dagdan dignitaries, the one that had admittedly started a brief naval altercation over a trade agreement. Was that why the Dagdan ambassador was so critical of his proposals yesterday? A grudge? Byleth revisited that conversation in his mind. He was never good at picking up on those things.
The tailor cleared their throat. When had they dropped to their knees?
Byleth blinked. "What?"
Seteth put his face in his hands. "Lord Byleth. If you will please pay attention so we can get this done?"
"I need to take your inseam, sir," the tailor said gently.
"My what?"
"He means you need to spread your legs," said the worst possible voice from behind him. "Though normally I would shut the door for that."
Byleth whirled around. "Uh, can we help you?"
Can we help you? What was he saying?
Yuri chuckled. "I'm just here to drop off these reports. Have anything for me, Advisor?"
He walked past Byleth towards Seteth's desk. The scent of something floral caught Byleth's nose and all of his efforts to forget what happened that morning went out the window. Seteth was right, in a way. Byleth was really bad at paying attention lately. This was practically the most he'd seen Yuri in weeks. There was a time when they had tea nearly every day, and now they barely saw each other. How had he let that happen?
The tailor cleared his throat again and Byleth turned around, ignoring the warmth in his cheeks and trying desperately not to glance over to where Seteth and Yuri were exchanging reports. "I don't understand why this is necessary…"
"Well, Your Holiness," Yuri drawled. "I'm sure you could ask if your Advisor knows where they've stashed the old Enlightened One robes, if you prefer?"
Byleth spread his legs. "Measure away."
"Thought you might say that," Yuri said with a chuckle, eying the measuring tape. "Well, as much as I'd enjoy the show…"
The tailor snapped the tape in place with a disapproving noise. "It's done."
"Please stay, though," Seteth said to Yuri. "This is the most cooperative Lord Byleth has been all day."
Byleth wanted to melt into the floor and disappear forever, but he settled for collapsing into a chair.
"Is that so?" He could hear something patronizing in the way Yuri laughed. "I'd love to, but duty calls I'm afraid. There's no rest for the wicked or the divine these days."
Byleth waited for his footsteps to fade out before glaring up at Seteth.
"Right then," the tailor said. "Same time next week for the fitting?"
"Ask the Advisor," Byleth ground out. "It's not as though I have any say."
Seteth frowned. "Same time will be fine, thank you." He nodded the tailor's dismissal, sighing as he left. "Are you really so tired, Byleth? I need not remind you that your responsibilities will only increase as the archbishop. If you have reservations about your appointment, now would be the—"
"Oh, is there someone more suited to it now?"
"Not..." Seteth stopped.
"Not what? Not divinely qualified enough? Or just not—"
"Not at this time, no." Two pairs of green eyes, each with more experience behind them than their faces belied, stared at each other from across the room. "I know you think I don't understand what we're asking of you, but trust me, I do. I know it can be a burden sometimes. I know well the personal sacrifices we all make. Rhea confided in me regarding the… loneliness of her position many times over the years. I don't mean to pry into your personal rela—"
"Thank you, Seteth," Byleth said pointedly, but not unkindly. "I'm not going to back down from what's required of me. I'm just asking for a little time for myself."
"That's fair," Seteth acknowledged with visible relief. He checked his notes, then looked at the stained-glass window as if he could discern the time from the volume of light filtering through. "If I clear the rest of your calendar for today, will you promise me one thing?"
Byleth sat up straighter. "I'll be on time tomorrow; you have my word."
Seteth chuckled. "I should hope so, but that isn't it." He stood from his desk and made for the door, pausing at the threshold. "I want you to promise me,” he said over his shoulder, “that you’ll never forget that time is a gift. Some of us have been given more than our fair share, and we never know how long we'll have to share it with those important to us."
"I will," Byleth said, grabbing his cloak before joining him. "Though I'm not sure if you're preaching to the choir or calling the kettle black."
"It's called relating to someone, Byleth," he said shaking his head. He stepped into the hall and turned to face him. "I just hope there's one thing we never have in common. If someone's important to you… they should know. And you should keep them around."
He averted his eyes as he felt his face warming up. "Any more advice, Advisor?"
"Oh, do shut up," Seteth said, failing to hide a smile. "Run along before I change my mind! That is all, Lord Byleth."
‘*’~‘*’~‘*’
Opening the door to the dining hall, Byleth immediately turned around and left. The contractors for the war memorial were still eating their own late lunch. Byleth had no desire to rehash the budget for building materials or field any demands about extending the timeline. The way he saw it, the memorial could stay behind schedule. He didn't need to remember the war, and he still felt like the anniversary of Peace in Fódlan would have come a lot sooner if only he'd had his shit together.
He was much happier that they finished renovations on the academy before term started. His feet took him in that direction of their own accord, stopping at the bulletin board outside the new, fourth house. That was something he felt proud of. Something he never could have done alone. The academy now took in students from all walks of life, from Fódlan and abroad. The extension needed to accommodate the growing student population was well worth the loss in garden space. He looked over the bulletins out of habit and noticed that the tea aficionados club was still looking for a faculty advisor. He wondered if Seteth would let him take that on.
Then he remembered there was someone else he barely had time to take tea with, and he pushed the thought aside.
Underneath a listing of the new professor's office hours, was a request from the greenhouse keeper. Apparently extra hands were needed to keep up with the demands of Garland Moon, whatever that meant. Still, it'd been quite a while since Byleth had the opportunity to get his hands dirty.
The greenhouse was indeed popular. Students were still in class, but it seemed everyone else at the monastery today with nothing better to do was here. The greenhouse keeper was ecstatic that someone who actually knew their way around a flower bed had arrived, and quickly put him to work.
It was more chaos than he would have liked on his afternoon off, but it seemed to work in his favor in that no one paid him any mind. More people flocked to Garreg Mach than ever now, and while he wasn't a fan of crowds, he was always glad of someone who didn't recognize him. Though he missed his friends and wished he had as many at the monastery as he used to, he preferred anonymity to special treatment.
In addition to the usual weeding, watering, and pruning, they were taking cuttings for personal use. It seemed flowers were indeed in high demand this month, especially white roses. They were going out of season though, and there were always more of those in the gardens than the greenhouse anyway. They ran out within the hour, and still the requests came in. Byleth tried suggesting white dahlias, since camellias were out of season, and that worked at first. But one young girl insisted that her friend only liked flowers that smell nice. Wracking his brain, Byleth hunted down a row of peonies, hoping to find a paler variety since white seemed to be the theme, though he wasn't sure how'd they smell.
Amazing was how they smelled, but he might have been biased. It was the same scent he'd caught earlier—when Yuri walked by.
The young girl was thrilled, and Byleth quickly made his excuses and left the greenhouse.
Yuri changed perfumes frequently, something Byleth was actually impressed with himself for noticing, but he always found it odd when he chose a floral one. I just never saw the appeal, Yuri told him after Byleth finally asked why he didn't have a favorite flower. Sure, flowers are pretty enough. But they're just going to die.
Byleth stopped giving him flowers after that, instead opting for more personal gifts once he got to know what Yuri liked. There was a time when he gave him an almost embarrassing number of gifts, now that he thought about it. It was a wonder he never scared him away.
Unless that was, in fact, what was wrong, and it wasn't just Byleth's schedule responsible for them growing apart recently.
Were they growing apart? That thought sent him into a panic, and before he knew it, he was in the marketplace. What he was shopping for he didn't know.
Something that said… what, exactly? He wanted Yuri to know how much he appreciated having him around, especially now that most of their old friends were gone. Byleth wanted him to know how much even a passing smile from a familiar face warmed his heart.
Particularly Yuri's face.
Byleth was unsure how to express this, though. He'd given Yuri many gifts before, and Yuri already had everything he liked. Besides, he didn't want it to be the sort of gift you get from any old friend. He wanted Yuri to know just how special he was. But Byleth wasn't good at that sort of thing, and it took a lot to impress Yuri. All Yuri had to do was bring a wildflower to tea once, and Byleth was over the moon. He may have read into it too much, but it was especially sweet since Yuri didn't typically care for flowers himself. It was the sincerest Yuri had been in a long time.
It wasn't as though they weren't close. But did Yuri know how much he cared for him, truly? He might flirt, but Yuri had always been an odd one when it came to vulnerability. Would it be weird if he told him how he felt? If he told him about... whatever this was he was feeling?
He had a suspicion about what he was feeling, and he couldn't ignore it anymore. Byleth was pretty sure it felt like falling in love, and it wasn't the first time he'd felt this way about Yuri, and it wouldn't be the last. Just thinking about him made his stomach flutter.
Shit. His stomach. Damn, but he had a one-track mind. It'd been hours since he'd eaten.
A vendor seemed to read his thoughts, calling out the names of several baked goods. Fresh oven-baked Albinean berry tart must have been a mouthful to say, but nothing sounded better right now than sharing one with...
Right. Well, that would do he supposed. For a start. It would take more than his favorite pastry to impress Yuri. Byleth made his purchase and decided it was time to head for the dining hall before his stomach made any more decisions for him.
‘*’~‘*’~‘*’
The only familiar faces he saw in the dining hall this time were Maya and Ignatz, which was a pleasant surprise, and probably meant that Raph was visiting too. It would also explain why there wasn't much food left—that, and Byleth was hours late for lunch and still a bit early for dinner. Indeed, when Flayn and her new husband—which Byleth still felt weird about—joined them in the dining hall, they went straight to the kitchen to make more food. They invited him to eat with them, but Byleth had eaten enough of Flayn's cooking to last a lifetime. He grabbed a piece of fruit and decided he'd try again later.
He knew he was on borrowed time, but he paused a moment outside the entrance hall to enjoy the sun on his face.
"Greetings, Lord Byleth!" The Gatekeeper startled him. "Am I saying that right? It is 'BI-leth,' right? I'm still not used to saying that out loud!"
Byleth opened his mouth to answer but the Gatekeeper continued.
"Not that it's a bad name! It's a great name! It's the name of the man who brought peace to Fódlan, after all!"
Byleth repressed the desire to roll his eyes. He missed the days of Greetings, Professor. Nothing to report. Now—
"And now you're going to be the new archbishop! I suppose it's pretty fitting, isn't it?" The Gatekeeper laughed nervously. "I'm sure you'll do a fine job, too. Better than me, getting ahead of myself! Where was I? Greetings, Lord Byleth! Nothing to report!"
Byleth tilted his head. "Really?"
"Ah, other than it's Garland Moon and I still haven't found anyone to give a garland to! You're familiar with the tradition, right? Have you heard the students talking about it?"
"Sounds vaguely familiar," Byleth said honestly.
"Well you see, when the warm wind blows in from the ocean, that's when we know that the rainy season is almost here. All the young people hurry to pick their favorite flowers before the rain washes them away! White roses are especially popular, as they don't bloom again later in the summer. The flowers are woven into garlands and given as gifts to someone special. It's a tradition as old as the calendar itself!"
That explained… a lot, actually. The girl he helped was so disappointed about the roses, but so relieved he found something else for her. She's going to love it, she said. It, singular, though he gave her multiple flowers. It was a garland. Someone was receiving a very fragrant flower crown today.
Damn it, now he was imagining Yuri wearing one. That was much too ridiculous, and Yuri wasn't even a flower person. He smelled like duchesse de reigan peonies today, sure, but that could change. Just like everything these days.
"Times may be changing," the Gatekeeper went on as if he could hear Byleth's thoughts. "But it's nice to see some of the old Fódlan traditions never die! Kingdoms change, alliances waver, and empires fall… But love? Love lives on." The Gatekeeper wiped away a tear. "I'm sorry, sometimes I just get a little emotional about it…"
Byleth was certainly feeling something, and just maybe, he'd found a way to express it.
A plan was forming. If he remembered Yuri's schedule correctly, he had just enough time. Skipping the market and the greenhouse, he rushed out the main gate. With any luck, the place he had in mind hadn't changed.
‘*’~‘*’~‘*’