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The battle should have been straightforward. The bandits who'd begun the revolt in Hrym territory had retreated into a warren of caves and tunnels and they were by no means well-equipped compared to the imperial army. But the mages fighting alongside them were another matter and the impenetrable walls of dark magic they'd managed to erect were a new obstacle, one Edelgard's forces were ill-prepared for. As the imperial army had moved through the narrow tunnels, the mages had activated the devices, splintering the imperial army into small groups. It had been obvious that they'd save the bulk of their forces for Edelgard's contingent. What they'd not counted on was that Edelgard had been travelling that day with the Ashen Demon.
Desperately outnumbered, the handful of imperial soldiers with them quickly fell and soon Byleth and Edelgard were all that remained. But that was enough.
In recent weeks she and Edelgard had taken to sparring together but sparring was a faint reflection of what Byleth was capable of in battle. It was no wonder Shez had been unable to defeat her. Byleth was a terror on the battlefield and even as Edelgard swung Labarunda, she couldn't help but marvel at the Ashen Demon's ferocity. She moved with such litheness and speed, her blade like a gale, sweeping through the enemy ranks, yet her blows landed with inhuman strength. It was like watching a storm on the horizon, at once beautiful and destructive.
Edelgard held her own, using her strength to best advantage to fend off the enemy mages and soldiers while Byleth cut a wide swath through their ranks. She was accustomed to mages attacking with magic, so when one raised his hand she was expecting a flare of magic and moved to deflect the blow with the flat of her axe. But instead of a spell, he lunged wildly with a dagger, catching her arm in the gap between the two pieces of armour around the bend in her arm.
She swung her axe, neatly putting an end to him, but cursed as she felt the sting of an open wound and the warm trickle of blood. She put it out of her mind to finish the battle but within short order the enemies were gone and she and Byleth remained alone in the chamber, still trapped by the black wall of magic.
"You're hurt," Byleth noted, eyes fixing on the slash on Edelgard's arm.
Edelgard shook her head. "It's nothing to be concerned about."
But Byleth's brow was furrowed as she reached down and inspected the blade the mage had dropped. That was when Edelgard, too, noticed it, a faint greenish sheen on the edges of the blade. "It's poisoned," Byleth said and then, without hesitation, marched up to Edelgard and grasped her injured arm. "Hold still," she said before reaching for a canteen at her belt and pouring the contents over what was visible of the wound between the pieces of her plate mail. "We need to remove your armour." Edelgard's lips thinned, but realizing the seriousness of the situation she only nodded and let Byleth assist her in untying the straps that fixed her vambrace and rerebrace in place on her lower and upper arm.
Once the armour was discarded, Byleth tore the fabric of Edelgard's sleeve open to better reveal the slash. There was already an ugly purplish tinge to the skin around it but Byleth emptied more of her canteen over it and then used a handkerchief to wipe the edges of the wound. "We need to get you to a healer."
As one their gazes turned to the forcefield, a crackling film of darkness that blocked the tunnel behind them, keeping them in this dead-end section of the caves. Edelgard shook her head. "I'm afraid we'll have to wait for Shez to destroy whatever talisman our enemies are using to create these dark walls."
Byleth was peering at her with a faintly curious expression. "You're certain Shez will succeed?"
"I have faith in her. Her skills are exceptional and she's very determined." More than anything else, Edelgard was hoping Shez's ability to shadowslide would allow her to make quick work of whatever enemy or magical talisman was creating the walls. In the past it had allowed her to move instantly to critical areas of the battlefield, giving them a huge advantage when the tide of battle turned unexpectedly.
"Then I suppose we just have to wait."
"I suppose so," Edelgard replied, though her eyes scanned the room for an area untouched by the battle.
Byleth pointed to the furthest corner of the cavern where a collection of empty barrels and crates suggested it had recently been used to store supplies. And then, glancing over her shoulder, "I'm sorry I couldn't do more for your soldiers."
Edelgard let her eyes take it all in. So much blood, so much death. She'd known the path she walked would be painted with blood, but the needless slaughter perpetuated by Thales and his allies was not something she could ever truly reconcile herself to. It had been a true stroke of luck to be able to break away from them two years ago, but the repercussions were now being felt and so many were paying the price. "You did what you could," Edelgard said softly. "The responsibility is mine."
They settled against the crates, sitting side by side in silence as the minutes ticked by. Sometimes Edelgard thought she heard the sounds of battle nearby, but it faded quickly. But soon other sounds began to trouble her senses, distant cries, low moans—sounds she knew well from her dreams.
Byleth was watching her intently. "How do you feel?"
"Fine," Edelgard said.
"You're sweating," Byleth said and placed a hand against her forehead. "You have a fever."
When Edelgard glanced down at her wound, it had taken on a mottled black and purple tinge like an angry bruise and begun to burn as if she'd been singed by magical flame. At the same time her whole body felt chill, a sensation that was alien to her; ever since she'd gained the Crest of Flames, the cold had become a distant memory, heat flowing effortlessly through her veins. But now goosebumps prickled her flesh even beneath her armour.
"I think you should remove your armour," Byleth suggested.
"What if the enemy returns?"
Byleth shook her head. "You're not in any condition to fight. If any more of those mages come, I'll handle them, but for now I'm concerned about you overheating in that breastplate."
She agreed—again. That seemed to be all she was capable of in this state and it was galling to know that this, all of this—the bandits, the ambush, the wall of magic—had been meant as a trap for her. Even after two years, Thales was determined to have his revenge for her betrayal.
"For someone called the Ashen Demon you seem to have a great deal of experience dealing with injuries," Edelgard noted as she watched Byleth's fingers working on the straps of her armour. Even now, chilled and aching, it was hard not to notice the nimbleness of those fingers, to wonder how it might feel to have them dancing over her skin instead of her armour.
"My company didn't always have access to a healer. Sometimes we had to take care of the sick and wounded ourselves."
"I see," Edelgard said softly. Byleth was so formidable in battle, so skilled at killing, that it was difficult to imagine her taking on the role of makeshift healer. Her reserve, too, made the image difficult to hold. Though she was clearly capable of concern for her comrades, that concern showed very little on her features and could only be discerned by her actions.
Byleth made quick work of the straps on the side of Edelgard's breastplate and carefully eased the armour up and off of her. Edelgard shuddered with the change in temperature. She hugged her knees and tried to will the cold away. She had known worse cold in the dungeons beneath the palace, cold that seeped into your bones and never quite left. This was nothing; only the trick of a fevered brain.
She started when she felt a weight on her shoulders. Wordlessly, Byleth pulled Edelgard into her side. She wore only the lightest leather armour and Edelgard could feel the heat of her body radiating out of her wherever they touched. She felt lightheaded, the world spinning dizzily around her, but the shivering had stopped and she allowed her mind to relax into the sensation of being held—a sensation even more foreign than the cold. Her eyes came to rest on the hand draped over her shoulder, lingering on the white line of a scar near the base of Byleth's thumb and then another that trailed up her forearm. She turned then with some notion of asking Byleth whether she could hear anything, when her gaze was arrested by Byleth's collar bone, visible where her armour and undershirt had been tugged slightly out of place. Another scar rippled over the muscle just beneath it. A hazy thought entered her mind that she could just reach up and run her fingers along that beautifully imperfect skin.
Her awareness snapped back into place when the wall of dark magic flickered and vanished. Relief surged through her as a figure walked into the room, certain it was Shez finally come to rescue them. But Byleth's body went rigid. She was about to ask Byleth what was wrong when Byleth sprang to her feet and drew her sword.
The figure before her was not Shez. And the wall of dark magic had leaped back into place.
The robes and the elongated beaked masked were all too familiar by now, the garb of Thales's mages. "I haven't come to fight you." He—for the voice was male, though his shape remained covered in dark robes—held out his open hands. "It's clear what becomes of those who do."
"What do you want?" Byleth said, her voice completely without inflection, as if they were discussing what options they might select for a midday meal.
"The girl."
"Girl?" Byleth repeated.
"Edelgard von Hresvelg. Give her to us. You have no need of her. The poison will kill her shortly and your comrades will not arrive in time."
Byleth didn't move. "Why do you want her then?"
"She can still be useful to us."
Terror clawed at Edelgard, a wild beast trying to break through her chest. Death was nothing to fear but them—being returned to them, to be made their prisoner again, their pet, was the one thing she could never again endure. She tried to call out to Byleth, but her voice came out as little more than a croak.
"You're a mercenary, are you not?" the man said. "I can make it worth your while." He drew a pouch from his belt and threw it down, allowing coins to tumble out onto the ground between them.
"And will you let me out?"
"Of course. As soon as you hand her over my associate will open the way."
Byleth sheathed her sword.
Edelgard's heart hammered. She tried to push herself up, but the world slid sideways and her injured arm blared with pain. She lay gasping on the floor, every bit as helpless as she'd been in Enbarr's dungeons surrounded by the rats and the screams of her siblings. All she could do was watch as Byleth carefully reached down and pocketed the coin pouch.
Byleth's footfalls echoed through the chamber, growing closer until Edelgard could feel her looming above her. Byleth crouched before her and then she leaned over Edelgard, making sure their eyes locked, and pressed a finger to her lips even as she pressed something into Edelgard's hand. Edelgard gripped the object tightly as Byleth scooped her up like nothing more than a rag doll. When Edelgard looked down, she found herself clutching a dagger, tucked between her hip and Byleth's chest.
With unhurried steps, Byleth carried Edelgard across the room to the robed man. Edelgard's blood pounded in her temples. The cold was gone, replaced by flames, like the flames that had seemed to sear her entire body during the blood reconstruction surgery. They had lapped at every inch of her, at her veins and organs and bones so that she'd been certain there was nothing left of her but charred ash.
Edelgard tried to hold on to her dizzy thoughts. The mage. The mage was so close now. All was heat and flames save the hilt in her hands. She felt the hands gripping her shift as Byleth held her out, offering her to the mage. He reached out to receive her but Byleth jerked away. "Not until I'm free to leave."
The mage gestured and the wall of darkness vanished.
Byleth nodded and stepped forward again to transfer Edelgard into the mage's open arms. Edelgard's entire body trembled with strain. But the moment she felt Byleth's hands fall away and the mage's hands curling around her, she swung her hand up, still gripping the dagger, and plunged it deep into his chest. He screamed and they both tumbled to the floor. Byleth moved in a blur nearby and another scream echoed through the chamber. Or perhaps Edelgard had imagined it. The world was a throbbing mass of heat and confusion, the mage gurgling his last breaths beneath her and her own breath coming in thick pants.
A moment later she felt herself heaved into the air and it took her addled mind a moment to realize Byleth had scooped her up again. "Why?" Edelgard croaked. "Why didn't you… kill him yourself?"
Byleth was already racing through the chamber entrance out into the passageway. "The mage on the other side of the black wall. I needed my hands free to kill him." And just as Byleth spoke the words Edelgard glanced down and saw the second mage on the floor, a throwing dagger buried in his throat. "Shez can't be far or the mages wouldn't have been in such a hurry. I'll get you to a healer soon." Byleth's hands tightened around her.
Tucked beneath Byleth's chin, pressed close against her chest, Edelgard could see that rippling scar beneath her collar bone. "Why do you have so many scars?" Edelgard murmured. Her eyelids felt thick and heavy but she wanted to keep looking at that smooth line of skin, so sleek compared to the angry pink lines that marred her own chest and belly.
Byleth glanced down at her, appearing puzzled. "I've been a mercenary a long time but I wasn't always as skilled as I am now."
With what strength Edelgard had left, she tilted her head just enough to press her lips against that pale scar. "Thank you," she murmured, before she closed her eyes and let the world fall into darkness.
#
When Edelgard woke, she was in the infirmary and her head ached terribly. Hubert was standing nearby and the expression of relief on his features made her heart ache almost as much as her head did. He assured her that she was safe and that she would be well and when a healer came in a few moments later with something to drink for her head, she downed the concoction and fell back into the softness of her pillow.
The next time she woke, she found Shez close at hand, speaking with one of the healers. This time Edelgard felt well enough to prop herself up on her elbow and reach for the cup of water on the table next to the bed. Shez grinned as she realized she was awake. She was not prepared for when Shez threw herself down on the side of the bed and wrapped her up in a bear hug.
Edelgard squawked. Shez released her, laughing. "Sorry. Too much?"
"I am still the emperor of Adrestia," Edelgard said, drawing back. "Unless I've been deposed while I was injured."
"Nope, you're still the boss." And then, glancing over your shoulder. "There's someone else who wants to see you, though, if you're up for it."
"Does Hubert have work for me already?"
Shez shook her head. "No don't worry about that. We're cleaning up the rest the of the bandits and all the mages. But you're officially on bedrest for another two days—healers' orders."
"Very well, but then who…"
The grin on Shez's face made Edelgard worry more than a stack of reports from Hubert would have. "Your knight in shining armour of course—or leather armour in any case."
"My—" Edelgard rubbed her temples where she could still feel the ghost of an ache from the fever. "What are you talking about, Shez?"
"Byleth. She's the one who got you to the healers. Don't you remember the part where she was carrying you in her arms?"
"Vaguely," Edelgard replied, though she could feel a flush creeping up her cheeks as she suddenly remembered a bit more than that.
Shez laughed and then called Byleth in. "I'll leave you two alone," she added with a wink and fled before Edelgard could admonish her.
Byleth sat down on the little stool next to the bed and gave Edelgard a once-over. "How are you?"
"Much better," Edelgard replied, even as she could feel her face growing warmer.
"Are you sure? You look a bit flushed still."
Edelgard shook her head. "It's nothing, just a few lingering aftereffects. But that's all thanks to you."
Now it was Byleth who shook her head. "All I did was deliver you to the healers. They're the ones who managed to treat the poison."
Edelgard squared her shoulders. Even if she was in a nightdress in an infirmary bed she was still the emperor. "Your quick thinking was what allowed us to escape in time. I am very much aware that I owe you my life." And then, before Byleth could protest again, "But how could you be certain I'd use the dagger? I was barely lucid by that point."
Byleth tilted her head and peered at her for a moment. "You don't seem like someone who'd give up while you were still breathing. I figured if I gave you a weapon you'd know what to do with it."
"And please do forgive me for asking, but why did you? Most mercenaries aren't known for their loyalty. You could have handed me over without risking the displeasure of Thales and his allies."
Byleth's expression flickered momentarily. "Losing an employer isn't very good for business."
"Like Duke Fraldarius?" Edelgard said with a raised eyebrow.
"Exactly," Byleth said, nodding. "My father had to lower his rates after that."
Edelgard stared at her incredulously. "Was that… a joke?"
There was the faintest twitch to Byleth's lips. "Perhaps."
It was so easy to let her gaze rest in those green eyes. Something about them called to her, made her feel at ease in a way she could hardly explain. And it was that easiness that made her reach out to Byleth and squeeze her hand. "Truly, Byleth, thank you. For your loyalty and your help."
Byleth looked down at their joined hands for a moment as if the gesture were something new to her. But then she glanced back up at Edelgard and said, "You're welcome. But you already thanked me."
"Did I?" Edelgard said, her voice pitching a bit higher than she would have liked. "I'm afraid some of the details of our escape are fuzzy. Due to the delirium."
"Of course," Byleth said. "Well I suppose I should let you get your rest." But as Byleth got to her feet, Edelgard saw her fingers reach up and ghost across the long white scar beneath her collar bone.
The End