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Chapter Text

Byleth was rearranging the assortment of tarts, marzipan, and cookies on the dessert plate for the third time when Lysithea entered the empty Garreg Mach council room. For a moment she said nothing, though her lips were thinned and she was squinting the slightest bit in the way she always did when trying to solve a particularly vexing riddle.

               "Is she here yet?" Byleth asked.

               "She's on her way," Lysithea replied, still regarding Byleth curiously. "Professor, are you… nervous?"

               Byleth nudged a lemon tart a hair's breadth to one side and considered the dessert plate, which was more appealing than considering the unpleasant fluttering in her stomach. She was accustomed to being calm, both on and off the battlefield; being so unsettled before an important meeting was unacceptable. "I want this to go well," she said, only now turning to meet Lysithea's gaze. "It may be our only chance at ending things peacefully."

               Lysithea shook her head. "It's a very slim chance. You know that, don't you, Professor?"

               Byleth's hand darted down to her leg, to the scar on her thigh that was only now beginning to pale from vivid pink to a lighter, washed-out hue. "She saved my life. I don't want to repay that kindness by taking hers."

               It had been during a battle on one of the smaller bridges crossing the Airmid. She and Edelgard had been locked in battle when a mage's spell had sent them both over the edge and into the water. They'd been swept away by the current and washed up on the riverbank together, but while Edelgard had survived the ordeal uninjured, Byleth had been sliced open on a rocky outcrop in the fast-flowing river. She'd have died before help arrived had Edelgard not bound the wound and wrapped a tourniquet around her thigh.

               "Claude is reasonable," Lysithea said. "Unpredictable but reasonable. But Edelgard…" Lysithea shook her head. "I don't think she's interested in compromise."

               Byleth turned her attention to the cups and saucers, checking that each was spotless and that the teapot, hidden beneath a thick tea cosy, was still hot to the touch. "Even so, if we can get her to see that Claude isn't her enemy, that he wants to change things in Fódlan…"

               Help had finally arrived, but before Edelgard had left her on the riverbank, Byleth had asked her to talk to Claude. And she'd agreed. Perhaps it was a slim chance, but it was a chance nonetheless.

               She had no more time to think on the matter—or to further rearrange the desserts—because a pair of guards appeared at the door and announced that Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg had arrived.

               "I'll leave you to it," Lysithea said and was about to go when Byleth plucked a honey-almond cookie from the plate and placed it in her hand.

               "The plate was looking too crowded," Byleth said before Lysithea could try to object that she was no longer a child.

               Her brow crinkled as she looked at the cookie and then at Byleth. "Oh very well, Professor." And then, cookie in hand, she marched out of the room just as Edelgard marched in. She bowed her head to the emperor. "Good day, Edelgard."

               "Hello, Lysithea," Edelgard replied. "I'm glad to see you looking so well."

               For a moment Lysithea looked like she wanted to say more but instead she muttered a thank you and hurried away. All the while, Byleth remained frozen, standing by the table, her eyes taking in the sight of the emperor of Adrestia. It was the first time since waking from her five year nap that Byleth had seen Edelgard outside of battle and without her armour. Her hair was tightly bound in her horned crown. She was dressed in a high-collared crimson gown and Byleth was struck by how much older she looked than the girl she'd known at the academy.

               And then Edelgard finally turned her gaze to Byleth and those violet eyes locked with hers. She felt it then as she had sometimes at the academy, a sort of pull, something drawing her to Edelgard, something she couldn't explain. It had scared her then. It was the reason she'd chosen Golden Deer house, because this feeling Edelgard inspired in her was something she'd never been able to explain.

               The force of that gaze was like the pull of the tide and it took all Byleth's will to finally say, "Hello, Edelgard."

               "Hello, Professor. How is your wound healing?"

               Byleth patted her thigh. "I'm fine now, though I'm left with quite the scar. Would you like to see it?"

               Instantly, a scarlet tinge shot up Edelgard's face. "Perhaps another time, Professor."

               "How about some tea and snacks then?" Byleth said, sweeping her hand out toward the dessert plate.

               For a moment Edelgard paused to take in the spread before moving to take a seat. "Will Claude be joining us?" she asked as Byleth was pouring the tea.

               "He's been slightly delayed," Byleth said.

               "How convenient," Edelgard said. "And he sent you to butter me up, did he?"

               Halfway through pouring her own cup, Byleth paused and almost spilled the tea. "He didn't phrase it like that."

               Edelgard arched an eyebrow. "Of course he didn't, but, Professor, you're notorious for being able to earn anyone's good will."

               Setting down the teapot, Byleth tilted her head and peered at Edelgard. "That's not a bad thing, is it?"

               "No, but it's a skill that's of more use to your allies than your enemies."

               Byleth wanted to say something about their not being enemies but stopped herself before the words could get out because of course they were enemies, weren't they? Or at least the countries they led and fought for were. And Byleth could not forget the vile mages Edelgard had allied herself with, the demonic beasts they used in battle like those that had attacked Lady Rhea during the battle of Garreg Mach. Even now, even after the shock of unmasking Edelgard in the Holy Tomb, it was difficult to reconcile the emperor of Adrestia who waged war on Fódlan and the woman who'd so carefully bound her wounds rather than leave her to die.

               Edelgard raised the teacup but paused before bringing it to her lips to instead inhale its scent. "You procured my favourite tea."

               "I hoped I'd remembered right from the academy. Dorothea mentioned it to me once."

               Edelgard sighed and took a sip of her tea. "As I said, notorious." But Byleth thought she saw the tiniest sliver of a smile on her lips.

               For a minute they each sipped their bergamot tea and Byleth was pleased to see Edelgard reach for one of the marzipan treats. She'd never had tea with Edelgard at the academy. Edelgard had always been polite, proper, but also somehow aloof. The times they'd worked together, such as when Byleth and the house leaders had ventured into Abyss together, always stood out in her mind. There was a comfortable rhythm to fighting with Edelgard as if they'd fought side by side a thousand times before. She'd never understood why that was. Even now, she didn't understand.

               "I wanted to thank you properly," Byleth said finally. "For saving my life."

               Edelgard shook her head. "There's no need. Consider it the payment of an old debt."

               She meant of course the day they'd met, when Byleth had stepped between her and that bandit. But really it had been Byleth who'd been saved that day. That single unexplainable act of stepping between Edelgard and the axe had changed Byleth's life irrevocably. It had awoken Sothis and in doing so had changed something in Byleth herself, had transformed her from the Ashen Demon to the person she was now, someone more alive, more real than she'd ever been before. No, it was she who had a debt to Edelgard and these talks were her one chance to repay it.

               But since she could say none of this to Edelgard, she instead reached for a cookie and munched on it thoughtfully.

               "So tell me, Professor, where have you been all this time? There were reports that you plunged into a chasm during the Battle of Garreg Mach. You were presumed dead by most."

               "I was sleeping."

               "Is that a joke? With you it's difficult to tell."

               She paused, cookie half-raised to her mouth and looked at Edelgard. "No, I really was sleeping."

               "For five years?"

               With her mouth full of almond cookie, Byleth only nodded. Edelgard peered at her for several seconds, brow furrowed, and she seemed to be trying to decide how to take Byleth's answer. "I don't really understand it myself," Byleth offered by way of apology. She didn't want Edelgard to think she was lying or trying to make a fool of her. "I fell into a deep sleep and then I… heard the goddess's voice telling me to wake. When I found Claude again I learned I'd been gone for five years."

               Edelgard grimaced. "Ah so I have the goddess to thank for your return and our defeat at Myrddin, do I?"

               Byleth set down her cup. "It doesn't have to be this way. The empire and the Alliance don't have to be at war."

               Edelgard took a moment to reach for a napkin and wipe her lips as Byleth's eyes followed the movement of the cloth. "Even if that means the destruction of the Church of Seiros? Aren't you bound to defend your goddess?"

               Byleth tilted her head, frowning in confusion. "No. I just want to protect my students. And help Claude make a better Fódlan."

               Edelgard looked… well, cross if Byleth had to guess. For all Edelgard claimed Byleth had a knack for winning people over, Byleth was becoming less and less certain that that was the case. Perhaps she should've let Claude do the talking since she seemed to be making things worse rather than better.

               "But you are Rhea's successor, aren't you?" Edelgard said finally.

               "I… I suppose so." That's what Claude had said, wasn't it? The leadership of the Church would undoubtedly fall to you. "It's not something I've given a good deal of thought to."

               "And Rhea?"

               Two words, but the question was immeasurably complicated and Byleth took a long drink from her teacup to give herself a moment to form words out of the morass of emotions surrounding Rhea. Rhea had been kind to her, trusted her, but also done something to her and expected something of her, neither of which she understood. And Claude's dream of opening Fódlan's Locket would never come to fruition while Rhea remained archbishop. Finally Byleth set down her teacup. "I have questions that only Rhea can answer. Questions about Fódlan's history and the crest stones and…" For a second her hand flew to her chest, the quiet spot where her silent heart rested. "And about me. Why I can use the Sword of the Creator, what she hoped to accomplish by bringing me to the Holy Tomb, what—" What she did to me. She didn't dare say that aloud so instead she finished with, "What I am."

               "And do you really believe you'd get truthful answers from her? I can assure you the archbishop is not what she seems and she's responsible for a great many lies that have been perpetuated throughout Fódlan." Byleth arched a single eyebrow at this speech even as she sipped her tea. Edelgard sighed. "You needn't say it, Professor. Yes, I, too, am an accomplished liar."

               Byleth's lips quirked. "Well it's a good thing you're meeting with Claude later then. You'll be in good company.

               A huff of laughter escaped Edelgard and suddenly all the tension of a moment before melted away. In spite of the war, and the fact that Edelgard was, indeed, her enemy, Byleth found herself smiling.

               Edelgard reached for a tart and Byleth went in for another cookie and for a minute they simply enjoyed their desserts, just as if they were back in the academy days, instead of in the midst of a war.

               "I'm glad to see Lysithea is doing well," Edelgard said. "I know her health has been fragile."

               Byleth paused mid-bite. "I didn't know she'd told you about her condition."

               Edelgard shook her head. "She didn't but I'm aware of certain… incidents that occurred in the empire in the past."

               "I see," Byleth said, but her mind was suddenly racing with a new thought. Lysithea's procedure had left her with a second crest and silver-white hair the twin of Edelgard's… She tucked the idea away at the back of her mind for further investigation and instead finished off her cookie before asking, "How are the Black Eagles?"

               A faint smile curled Edelgard's lips. "They're well. I'm fortunate to have such loyal companions."

               They kept to innocuous topics as they finished their tea, moving from the weather to a discussion on cavalry tactics, and had drained the pot to the dregs when a knock finally sounded on the council room door. Claude pushed it open and stood there with a wide grin plastered on his face. "Sorry for the delay," he said. "I didn't want to show up to such an important event without a gift."

               He moved aside to reveal none other than Ferdinand von Aegir.

               Ferdinand stepped forward, a metallic click echoing with the movement as the cane in his left hand tapped the floor.

               "Ferdinand!" Edelgard sprang to her feet and hurried to meet him as he limped into the room, the cane clicking against the stone floor with every step.

               "Hello, Edelgard," he said softly.

               "We received word you'd been grievously wounded at Myrddin. No one knew what had become of you. We all assumed the worst."

               "The professor spared my life," he said, glancing at her, though his expression was solemn, as if he was uncertain that act had been a kindness or a punishment. He moved the cane before him so that he could lean his weight on it as he bowed low before Edelgard. "Please forgive me. I could not hold the bridge and my defeat is shameful."

               "There's no need to apologize, Ferdinand." Edelgard's voice was gentle and Byleth held very still as the tableau played itself out, afraid to disturb them in this delicate moment. "You did all you could and I could not ask any more of you. There is certainly no shame in being defeated by an opponent as formidable as the professor."

               Ferdinand straightened and nodded. "Thank you, Edelgard."

               It was, naturally, Claude who shattered the silence that followed. "Well now that we're all on good terms again how about I have some more tea brought in and we can have a friendly chat like Teach here wanted."

               Byleth gave him a look. She knew this mode of his. He was trying to unsettle Edelgard, to throw her off to give himself a tactical advantage in their talks. Surprising her with Ferdinand was part of that same tactic. She only hoped he wasn't overdoing it. She wanted Edelgard to be receptive to discussion but she was already at a military disadvantage and Byleth suspected she would dig in if she felt cornered.

               Eventually, with the tea served and pleasantries out of the way, the small group settled enough that Byleth felt ready to turn to the matter at hand. "Claude, please tell Edelgard about what you hope to accomplish as leader of the Alliance."

               "You mean besides preventing us from being imperial lapdogs?" This time the look she shot him could only be described as scathing. "All right, all right, Teach. You don't have to give me the evil eye." He returned his attention to Edelgard whose expression of cool disinterest was somehow worse than the scowl she'd worn earlier when she and Byleth had talked. "The teachings of Seiros tell its followers to stay away from outsiders, that they're lesser beings somehow. But you've met people from outside of Fódlan—Petra, Dedue, Cyril. You know that isn't true."

               Ferdinand was nodding along. "Agreed," he said when Edelgard did not speak.

               "Fódlan's closed itself off from the rest of the world for a long time. I want to change that."

               "Your intentions are noble," Edelgard said, "and I can see why the professor supports your efforts, but how can you ever hope to achieve such lofty ambitions while the Church continues to exist?" She shook her head and the violet eyes Byleth had been so entranced by just a short while ago were now as icy as the first frost that withered summer flowers. "The Church underpins the crest system and the nobility. As long as power remains in their hands, nothing will change."

               Claude shrugged. "There are other ways to change things than by force."

               Edelgard shook her head. "Subterfuge and craftiness will only get you so far. Sometimes there is no other way but to remove the obstacles before you."

               "Oh but that's already been done for me," Claude said with a grin as he turned to glance at Byleth. Byleth's eyes darted from him to Edelgard whose expression was more frigid than ever.

               "So you intend to use the professor as a puppet to mold the Church to your liking? Is that your grand scheme, Claude? And since I've already done the dirty work of removing Rhea from power you're free to rally the Church's followers behind the professor and use them to do your bidding."

               "Do my bidding?" Claude chuckled. "That's a little much, don't you think? So far all I've done is remove imperial influence from Alliance territory and that was the will of everyone in Leicester."

               "I'm not a fool, Claude. I know you're massing forces at Myrddin as we speak."

               He flashed a grin. "And you're gathering troops at Fort Merceus, right?"

               Byleth heaved a sigh. "This wasn't what I had in mind when I suggested you discuss what you had in common."

               Before they could get any further into discussions there was a knock on the door and someone asking for Duke Riegan. Claude stepped out of the room and spoke to the messenger. "Let them in,
 he said. When he returned to the table, his expression was grave. "How many people knew you were here?" he asked Edelgard.

               "Only a handful of my closest allies. As far as everyone else is concerned I'm still at Fort Merceus. Why?"

               "Someone is asking to see you."

               They waited in uneasy silence until the mysterious envoys were ushered in. And though Byleth had not seen their faces in five years, she recognized Dorothea and Petra immediately. They both looked windswept and rather the worse for wear, Dorothea's dress singed in several places and dried blood caked on the side of Petra's face.

               Edelgard leapt to her feet. "What's happened?"

               "It's Lord Arundel," Dorothea said, her normally melodious voice sounding brittle like shaken glass shards. "He's staged a coup in the capital. Him and his mages."

               "He is sending assassins, thinking you are still at Fort Merceus," Petra added. "We came by pegasus to be warning you."

               And though Edelgard looked as pale as first snow, her voice was steady as spoke. "Do we know who his allies are in this?"

               Petra's expression morphed into a snarl as she replied, "Count Varley is being among those revolting and they are freeing Duke Aegir."

               "My father is involved in this?" Ferdinand said, looking outraged as he hobbled to his feet.

               "Oh, you are being alive," Petra said. "At least that is some fortunate news."

               "Who else?" Edelgard said, her tone as sharp as the dagger at her hip.

               "We are not knowing," Petra replied.

               "Count Bergliez and Count Herving were both in their own territories when it happened," Dorothea added.

               There was a brief moment of silence and then all at once Edelgard asked, "Where's Hubert?"

               Byleth's stomach dropped when Petra and Dorothea glanced at each other. "Hubert held them off so that we could escape to warn you," Dorothea said softly. "I'm sorry, Edie, but Arundel has Hubert."

Chapter Text

It took several days to get the full measure of what had transpired in Enbarr but when they did, the news was no less dire than what Dorothea and Petra had reported. They were gathered around a map in the main council room, Dorothea, Petra, Ferdinand, and Edelgard along with Lysithea, Lorenz, and Hilda who was giving the emperor suspicious glances. The Knights of Seiros remained unaware of Edelgard's presence at Garreg Mach and Byleth and Claude had decided it would be best to keep it that way until the situation was clearer. Edelgard's expression had remained stony since she'd learned the news, as if she'd carved for herself a perfect mask that betrayed no hint of emotion.

               "From what we've learned," Byleth said to the group, "Arundel now controls all of central Adrestia." She pointed in turn to Hresvelg, Aegir, and Varley territory. "However it appears that western Adrestia is not directly under his control," she said indicating Hevring, Ochs, and Gerth. "But given that they're caught between the Kingdom and Arundel I don't know if they can hold out long against any military force deployed against them." She then pointed to the wide swathe of territory that encompassed Gronder Field and lay between Varley and Aegir. "Reports indicate that Count Bergliez controls a large contingent of the imperial army and has positioned them to defend against Arundel's attempts to wrest the territory from him. Hrym appears to be supporting him as well."

               There was a minute of grim silence which was only broken when Hilda cleared her throat. "I don't mean to be rude but… why is Edelgard here? Isn't she... you know… our sworn enemy?"

               Claude offered one of his trademark smiles. "She's our guest."

               Hilda crossed her arms and peered at him more closely. "And by 'guest' you mean…"

               "He means guest," Byleth interjected. "Edelgard came to personally discuss the war with Claude."

               Ignoring the exchange, Edelgard remained focused on the map. "I should return to Fort Merceus."

               "No," Petra said forcefully. "Not until we are knowing it is safe for you."

               Dorothea nodded. "That's right. Until we're certain the assassins Arundel sent have been taken care of."

               Edelgard glanced at her comrades with a raised eyebrows. "Whereas all I have to worry about here is one of the Knights of Seiros murdering me in my sleep."

               Byleth took a step closer and Edelgard's gaze met hers. "While you're at Garreg Mach you're under my protection. Anyone who wishes to harm you will have to go through me."

               Something flickered in Edelgard's expression before her chill mask returned. "Thank you, Professor. That is as least somewhat reassuring."

               "I thought it was very dashing," Dorothea said with a wink.

               Everyone's attention turned to Claude as he spoke. "Edelgard, what can you tell us about Arundel? He's your uncle, isn't he?"

               "In name only," Edelgard replied. "The truth is that the man known as Volkard von Arundel disappeared long ago. He is now only a disguise for the mage Thales."

               Even Claude looked appalled at this news, though Lysithea was stroking her chin as if mentally unravelling a complicated knot. "He's allied with the mages who attacked us at the academy then, Solon and Kronya?"

               Edelgard nodded. "He's the leader of their faction."

               "And he's been pulling strings in Enbarr all this time?" Claude said. "But then why would he act against you now?"

               Edelgard's eyes were boring into the map again as if it could reveal some deeply held secret that would reveal itself were she only to stare at it long enough. "I don't know. Our understanding has always been that we would work towards our mutual goal until it had been achieved."

               Lorenz offered a haughty toss of his head. "The goal of unifying Fódlan under the empire."

               "No," Edelgard said, giving Lorenz a look as cutting as her blade's edge. "That is a secondary aim of the war. The main goal has always been to remove the Children of the Goddess from power."

               "Who are the Children of the Goddess?" Hilda asked, looking puzzled. "I thought you just wanted to be in charge."

               "You mean Lady Rhea." Everyone turned to Byleth as she spoke. Again, Edelgard's gaze seemed to waver when she met Byleth's eyes, but only for an instant.

               "Seteth and Flayn as well, but yes, Professor. They are not human and we have been ruled by their kind long enough."

               "As fascinating as this is," Claude cut in, "we have more immediate problems. We need to know what Arundel's plans are."

               Lorenz shook his head. "This seems to me like an Adrestian matter. We should not interfere with what has clearly become a civil war."

               Edelgard spared Lorenz no more than a scathing glance before turning her full attention to Claude. "You may think this a boon for the Alliance, but I can promise you you'll enjoy Arundel's reign far less than mine." She swept her hands over the map, from Enbarr to Gronder to Myrddin. "If he's able to overwhelm Count Bergliez he will take his forces and press his attack on Myrddin once more." Her hand then moved to the western border between the Kingdom and the Alliance. "While your troops are defending the crossing, an army from the Kingdom will attack from the west and push through to Deirdriu."

               Claude hid his alarm well, but Byleth could see it in the tiny twitch of his lips and the faint crinkling of his brow. "I know there are imperial loyalists currently holding the Kingdom, but how are you so certain they'd be willing to launch an attack on his say-so?"

               "Because," Edelgard said, her tone as chill as Faerghus winds, "Cornelia is the authority in the Kingdom and she is a member of Thales's faction."

               A grim silence fell over them at the realization that these mages they knew so little about now directly controlled two of the continents' three countries. Finally, Claude called for a recess. Byleth hung back to speak with him. "Do you believe her?" he asked.

               "Yes."

               He sighed and allowed himself to slump into a chair. "Yeah, me too. You know I really thought we had the empire on the run. If we'd been able to defeat them at Gronder…" He waved vaguely at the map, "But that's all up in the air now, isn't it?"

               "I'm worried, Claude. Arundel wouldn't just cast Edelgard aside unless he believed he had something to replace her—some new sort of demonic beast, a spell, a weapon—something. Something just as powerful but easier to control."

               "Can't say I like the sound of that," he said with a grimace. And then, a smile curling his lips, "That speech was a nice touch." He puffed out his chest. "'Anyone who wants to harm her will have to go through me.' You're doing a great job of getting on her good side."

               "I meant it."

               "Of course you did. That's why you're so convincing."

#

It was late when Byleth found Edelgard prowling the halls of the teachers' dormitory where she'd been secreted away during her visit. She'd initially been reluctant to come to Garreg Mach but with most of the Knights of Seiros still stationed elsewhere and Byleth's guarantee of her safety, she'd agreed to come and speak to Claude. She was supposed to have stayed a day but now everything was uncertain and it had been agreed that it would be best to keep her presence hidden for the time being. That being the case, she couldn't venture outside, or really anywhere besides this floor, which Byleth suspected would be maddening after a few days.

               "Good evening, Professor," Edelgard greeted Byleth when she noticed her approach. "What can I do for you at this late hour?"

               "Come and spar with me," Byleth said.

               "What makes you think I'd want to train at this time of night?"

               Byleth shrugged. "I thought you might want to blow off some steam." Byleth was encouraged when Edelgard didn't immediately say no. Surely if she was truly against the idea she would simply say so and send her on her way. Instead she gave Byleth a long look before she finally spoke.

               "I was told not to leave this wing lest some of the staff come after me with kitchen implements."

               "I thought of that." Byleth held out a hooded cloak. Edelgard looked at the proffered item for a long moment and, with evident reluctance, took it. "And I was serious about what I said. If anyone tries to harm you they'll answer to me."

               "I am quite capable of protecting myself."

               "I know," Byleth said with a nod. "But it would be better if you didn't have to. Will you come?" It was difficult to read the expression on her face as Edelgard considered her for some moments. Byleth's heart was still, as it always was, but her pulse thrummed as Edelgard's eyes met hers. There it was again, that strange tug, that feeling that told her that close to Edelgard was where she ought to be, that strange tug that had so unsettled her in her academy days. But so much had changed since then and now more than ever, that tug told her that Edelgard needed her.

               Finally Edelgard turned away. "Give me a moment. I'll return shortly."

               A burst of triumph shot through Byleth's veins, though she made a point of keeping her expression carefully neutral.

               Edelgard disappeared into her room and some minutes later reappeared in dark trousers and a plain white shirt, the cloak already clasped around her. She tugged the hood over her silvery hair and gestured towards the stairs. "After you, Professor."

               They walked in silence to the training grounds, which were empty at this hour, and picked out a pair of dulled training swords. And then, blade in hand, they faced each other. Edelgard darted in first with a few quick strikes, testing her, Byleth thought. She was agile, but Byleth noted a slight give when she shifted her weight and had to stifle the impulse to correct her as she would one of her students. Claude would certainly have a good laugh at the idea of her trying to improve her enemy's technique.

               She blocked easily and countered, testing Edelgard in turn. There was impressive grace and fluidity to her movements and if her style wasn't perfect it was certainly excellent. She'd trained in Enbarr of course, before ever coming to the academy. But Byleth could feel the faintness of her blows, could feel in every strike how much she was restraining herself.

               "Don't hold back," Byleth said. "You can come at me with your full strength."

               She didn't have to tell her twice. In an instant, Edelgard's style changed entirely. She brought her blade down against Byleth's with a force that rattled down Byleth's arms. Byleth deflected her next blow and parried the following one in quick succession, sparks leaping from the dulled blades where they met and ground against each other as the combatants struggled to push each other back. Neither gained any ground, their blades and gazes locked. This, this was the real Edelgard, the Flame Emperor, the leader of the warring nation of Adrestia. Her strength rivalled Byleth's own and she'd rarely felt anything like it. And it made her feel real, feel alive.

               "I know what you're thinking," Byleth said through a ragged breath.

               "Do you?"

               Byleth watched a bead of sweat slide down the side of Edelgard's face. They broke apart and clashed again, the staccato clang of their rapid blows filling the training grounds with a discordant melody. "You're thinking it was a mistake to come."

               She hammered her sword against Byleth's blade, forcing her to brace her arms to absorb the sheer strength of the blow. "I did not come here intending to lose my empire."

               Byleth's voice remained calm. "You've been away from Enbarr before. Why would Arundel stage a coup now?"

               "Clearly someone informed him I was planning to speak with Claude."

               Byleth shook her head, easily deflecting the next wild blow and parrying with a well-timed strike, forcing Edelgard back a step. "No, it had to be something more than that on its own. Something more must have changed to make him decide he no longer needs you."

               A huff and then she tried to advance again with a series of battering strikes. "If Claude thinks any of this is to his advantage, he'll be sorely disappointed. Thales will come for the Leicester Alliance and he will not be merciful when he destroys it."

               "That's why we need you, Edelgard." Byleth deflected her blows and continued to press, forcing her back again. "If you can reach an agreement with Claude to respect Leicester's independence then our forces can fight Thales together."

               On the defensive now, Edelgard kept her blade raised before her, blocking Byleth as she rained strike after strike, too fast for her to counterattack. "And the Knights of Seiros? Do you expect me to believe Thunder Catherine won't try to kill me on sight? Or perhaps Seteth?"

               "They can stay behind and guard the Great Bridge of Myrddin. I won't have their personal grudges ruin our best chance to save the Leicester Alliance." Edelgard fell back another step, sweat beading her brow as she struggled to keep up with Byleth's attacks. "We have an opportunity to take a different path. The Empire and the Alliance can be allies."

               "And the Church?" Edelgard sprang forward, parrying Byleth's attack with such force that for an instant, Byleth faltered.

               "We can change things." Byleth's arms ached from the force of Edelgard's attacks. Her lungs heaved for air. "If I'm responsible for it now then I can a cut a different path."

               "Some things cannot be changed, only destroyed and built anew." Edelgard's sword swung wildly but with terrible swiftness so that Byleth had to rapidly step to one side to avoid the blow, but when it missed it set Edelgard off balance. Seizing the momentary advantage, Byleth swept Edelgard's legs out from under her.

               The emperor fell forward catching herself on her sword and remained there a moment, chest heaving, face red with exertion or perhaps shame at her loss as Byleth towered over her.

               Byleth reached out a hand to her. "Please, Edelgard, we have a chance to change things. Please walk with me." She had no reason to believe Edelgard would accept her offer. Since she'd woken from her five year sleep, all Byleth had heard of the emperor was that she was ruthless and uncompromising. Even so, she desperately wanted Edelgard to take her hand, to accept her terms and work with her and Claude, to make a future all three of them would live to see and be proud of. Edelgard had changed her life and some part of her desperately hoped she could change Edelgard's as well. She had no reason to believe Edelgard would accept, so her breath caught when that gloved hand reached up and took hers.

               She tugged Edelgard to her feet and for a moment they stood in silence, studying each other's features. Strands of hair had come loose from Edelgard's crown and clung to her slick forehead, and Byleth had to stifle an inexplicable urge to reach out and brush those stray locks away from her eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, her mouth a tight line, but her eyes searched Byleth's face. It was as if they were both seeking words in a language they barely knew.

               "Very well, Professor," Edelgard said finally. "You win. As you always do."

               "Good. We need to be swift. We can hammer out a plan in the morning."

               Edelgard nodded. They fell silent once more and only then did Byleth realize she was still clasping Edelgard's hand. The warmth of her skin radiated through her glove and all at once Byleth was keenly aware of how close they stood, bodies only a hair's breadth apart.

               "Tell me something, Professor…" Edelgard's voice was softer now, as if, for a moment, she was no longer the emperor but simply the girl Byleth had met on a long ago night in Remire. "What you said when you were injured…" Byleth held her breath, certain of what was coming. "Were you really afraid of me when we were at the academy?"

               "Yes," Byleth said, the word barely more than a breath. "Because of this." She tugged on Edelgard's hand as if she could make tangible the force that drew Byleth to her. It had made her step between Edelgard and an axe all those years ago and she'd been wary of it, but now it felt so natural to stand here with her, to speak with her as if they were old friends instead of enemies hurtling inevitably towards one or the other's destruction. And if this was her chance to change their fates, then Byleth would do everything in her power to seize it.

                Edelgard's eyes met hers and, in the long silence that followed, Byleth was certain that Edelgard felt it too.

               Finally, Edelgard stepped away, tugging her hand from Byleth's grasp and when she spoke, her lips curved in a tiny smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I wonder what things would be like now if you'd been a bit braver back then."

               And to that Byleth had no answer at all.

Chapter Text

Byleth was still in the council room, poring over the tactical map long after the meeting had ended, when Seteth stormed into the room. "I came as soon as I heard the news. Is it true? Is the emperor really here?"

                She glanced up at him, noting the scowl he wore and his bunched up shoulders. His windswept hair and cheeks still pink from the frigid air confirmed that he'd flown here in haste from Myrddin. "She is," Byleth said in a decidedly neutral tone.

                "And do you truly intend to do nothing about it? To allow her to roam these halls as if she'd not tried to tear down the very walls of Garreg Mach?"

                "Things have changed. We need to take all the allies we can get."

                He scowled at her with all the disapproval she remembered from his days of wrangling delinquent students. "Edelgard's crimes cannot simply be ignored."

                Byleth's gaze remained on the map, her fingers tracing the line between Enbarr and Gronder. "And what about Lady Rhea's?"

                "Lady Rhea—"

                "Did something to me when I was born," Byleth said finally looking up. "Is that not a crime you've chosen to ignore?"

                "That is different."

                She returned her eyes to the map. How long could Count Bergliez hold against the might of Adrestia? Would his troops even be willing to fight their own comrades? "The ones in control of the empire now are the same group who sent Solon and Kronya to Garreg Mach. Think what you may of Edelgard, but she's human and can be reasoned with. These mages cannot."

                "I cannot approve of this."

                "You don't have to approve, you just have to trust me. As you said you would. I won't ask you to fight alongside the emperor; I know that would be too much. Please continue to hold Myrddin. Arundel's forces will come and if we fail to defeat them we'll need somewhere to fall back to. But please send Alois. I think he'll be willing to come."

                There was a prolonged silence before finally Seteth sighed. "Very well. But remember, Edelgard cannot be trusted. You've seen the deceit she is capable of and the lengths she will go to to destroy us. Do not let your guard down."

                "Of course."

                As Seteth was leaving, another set of footsteps approached and she heard Lysithea greet Seteth as they passed each other. "I assume Seteth wasn't pleased," Lysithea said as she joined Byleth by the map.

                "No."

                "I suppose allying with Edelgard isn't something we can expect the Knights of Seiros to be pleased about."

                Byleth sighed and finally sank down into a chair. "And what do you think about it?"

                Lysithea drew up a chair and across from her. "I think it's the right course of action given the circumstances. And…"

                "And?" Byleth repeated with a little tilt of her head.

                "And well… Have you had the chance to talk much with Edelgard? The more I speak with her the more I find myself agreeing with her."

                Byleth's lips twitched. "Should I be worried you're going to join the Black Eagles?"

                "I'm serious, Professor. What she has to say about the crest system and the nobility is entirely correct. It's ruined a great many lives and we'd all be better off if the entire system were abolished."

                "I know," Byleth said, a wistful smile curling her lips. "That's why I'd hoped I could get Edelgard and Claude in a room together and have them talk. And then this," she said, sweeping her hand over the map.

                "You were in negotiations all morning. Did anything come of it?"

                Byleth wrinkled her nose. "We'd gotten the Round Table's support for an attack on the empire but now that things have changed, Claude will need to convince them all over again. Even with Edelgard's signed declaration to respect Alliance territory, it won't be easy to convince them to fight alongside her until the enemy is on our doorstep."

                "What about the Knights?" Lysithea asked. "They'll fight under your banner won't they?"

                "Some of them maybe. But you saw how pleased Seteth was. I'm not sure I'll have much help to offer Edelgard."

                "You'll have us at any rate," Lysithea said.

                Byleth smiled. That simple truth was enough to keep her going.

#

 Even if the cloaked form wandering the grounds hadn't been familiar to her, Byleth would have known it was Edelgard when she spotted her guards hovering at the edges of the lawn. She nodded politely to one as she passed and moved to join Edelgard on her nighttime stroll.

                "You're up late," Byleth said by way of a greeting.

                Edelgard paused in her wanderings and gave Byleth a curious look. "As are you, Professor."

                Byleth shrugged. "I couldn't sleep."

                "A common affliction it seems."

                Byleth fell into step with her and for a few minutes they walked the grounds in silence. "You must worried about Hubert," Byleth said finally. Edelgard said nothing though her lips thinned to a line. "They won't kill him, you know. He's too important."

                A mirthless laugh escaped Edelgard. "You say that as if it's meant to be a comfort." She adjusted the cowl of her cloak as a gust of wind threatened to tug it away from her face. "I know precisely what they'll do with Hubert. Arundel will have him tortured until they've wrung every last drop of information from him and then they'll try to use him against me. By the end, he'll wish they had killed him."

                "We'll get him back."

                Edelgard's step faltered but she didn't look at Byleth when she spoke. "You say it with such confidence, I could almost believe you."

                For a time they walked together side by side in silence, the moonlight casting slanting shadows over the lawn where students had once milled about between classes. It was difficult now to reconcile the commanding woman standing next to her with the reserved—not to say remote—imperial princess Byleth had met in those academy days.

                "I understand Claude will be heading to Myrddin to consult with the other Alliance leaders," Edelgard said as they paused by one of the eastern fortifications. Below them stretched the gulf beneath the monastery, the darkness transforming its forest of pines into an ominous mass of spearpoints. "How long are their deliberations likely to take?"

                Byleth gave a helpless little shrug. "The Round Table needs to come to a consensus before they can move ahead so there's no telling."

                Edelgard raised an eyebrow. "They do realize this is a matter of some urgency?"

                Leaning against the fortifications, Byleth looked out across the vast sea of pines that eventually gave way to rolling hills and wide grazing lands. "It's one of the problems with the Alliance system, I suppose. Because it relies on consensus, it's harder for them to act swiftly."

                "A failing Thales is surely aware of and which he will happily exploit." Edelgard's voice was as clear as the moonlight and just as warm.

                "I'll be fighting alongside you with the Golden Deer," Byleth said. "I'm confident we can slow them down."

                "And what of the Knights of Seiros?"

                "Alois and his forces will be joining us."

                Edelgard turned slightly to regard her for a long moment and Byleth felt as if she were being evaluated, just like that first day at the academy. "You're relying on personal loyalty," Edelgard said finally.

                "I suppose so," Byleth replied.

                "If you truly wish to change things, to change how the Church of Seiros operates, you will need to make full use of the authority Rhea has left you."

                She let her eyes drift upward to the arc of the moon and the stars spattered across the satiny darkness of the night sky. Rhea's decision to leave the Church in her hands remained a source of confusion and discomfort. The stars were constant, shifting in seasons, but returning in a time easily predicted by those who knew their ways. But Rhea's ways were veiled to her. Everyone was aware that Byleth had been gifted with the goddess's power (if not the full extent of that power), but there was something more than that, some piece of the picture that remained obscured from her view and without which she could not fully understand the scene.

                "Perhaps," Byleth said when the silence threatened to last a beat too long, "but I'd prefer to leave that as a last resort."

                They both turned at the sound of footsteps on the walkway nearby. Byleth tilted her head, curious, as Claude marched towards them. The faint light made the angles of his face sharper, and the gleam in his eyes brighter as he grinned at them. "What have we here? An epidemic of sleeplessness?"

                "So it would seem," Edelgard said, suddenly terse, her posture rigid, jaw clenched. When she thought about it, Claude had always had that effect on Edelgard. Even at the academy, his flippancy had seemed to irk her, which, Byleth suspected, delighted Claude.

                "I was just out for a late-night stroll," he offered. Byleth doubted that. Most likely he had people keeping an eye on Edelgard's movements and they'd woken him when they'd seen her leave the monastery wing where she'd been hidden away since her arrival.

                "We were just talking about the forces I've assembled," Byleth said.

                Claude nodded and gave Edelgard another smile. "I'd join you if I could but I'll be busy doing battle with the Round Table. But you'll be in good hands, Edelgard," he said, clapping Byleth on the shoulder.

                "Of course," was all Edelgard made by way of reply and it was difficult to tell if what Byleth noticed was a flush to her cheeks or just a trick of the dimming moonlight.

                Further conversation stopped when one of the Garreg Mach guards sprinted towards them and skidded to a halt in front of Claude, panting as he offered a hasty bow. "Duke Riegan, a rider was spotted on the approach to the monastery."

                Claude's eyebrows shot up. "Riding up to Garreg Mach by moonlight? That's a bit reckless, isn't it?"

                "He claims to have a message for the Adrestian Emperor." Edelgard went very still, her eyes trained on the guard.

                "Well let's have it then," Claude said.

                The guard shook his head. "He insists on delivering it in person. He also claims to have attended the academy with you. Caspar von Bergliez?"

                "Caspar?" Edelgard said, taking a step forward.

                All at once, Claude was serious. "Bring him to the council room."

                It was a good ten minutes later, back in the room where they'd all spent most of their day, that a pair of guards arrived with Caspar. He looked rather the worse for wear, dusty from travel, bags under his eyes, and one of his hands bandaged. "Edelgard! You're still here!"

                "Where else would I be?" Edelgard asked, eyebrows raised. "And if there was an urgent matter why didn't they send a message by pegasus."

                Caspar's shoulders sagged. "They did. I was the backup. My father sent me because of my hand. I'm no use till it heals."

                Edelgard drew herself up as she stood before him, radiating a calm Byleth suspected she didn't feel. "Tell me what's happened on the front."

                "It's bad," Caspar said, shaking his head. "We need you back now and anyone else you've got," he added, looking from Byleth to Claude. "Thales has a new general. Never seen anything like it. She can take on a whole regiment by herself—just like you, Professor. She's got a sword that's like… a relic but not? She's surrounded by a sort of purple light and when she speaks it's like someone else's voice is coming out of her. I don't think she's even human." Capar gave himself a shake.

                Claude turned to Edelgard. "And do we know where this new general came from?"

                She shook her head. "Thales has many allies but I've certainly never encountered one who fit this description. Is there anything else, Caspar?"

                "Yeah, one thing. I only heard it from a distance, but Thales called her… Epimenides."

Chapter Text

"This is where we part ways," Claude announced during a brief midday pause in the army's march. They would be cutting eastward across Bergliez territory to meet the imperial army at Gronder while Claude would be heading northeast via wyvern to reach Myrddin. "Take good care of everyone, Teach," he said, nodding to Byleth before casting his eyes around the assembled Deer.

               Hilda gave him a skeptical look. "Are you sure you'll be able to stay out of trouble?"

               Claude tilted his chin up and gave her a winning smile. "I think I can manage a few house leaders without an escort."

               "Whatever you say, mister leader-man," Hilda said, rolling her eyes.

               "Judith will be there in any case," Ignatz added, which reassured everyone a great deal more than Claude's assurances. Claude was a brilliant tactician—no one could deny that—but his penchant for the unpredictable and inclination to keep his plans to himself tended to set everyone on edge.

               Off to one side, Leonie was mending a hole in her gloves. She didn't look up as she spoke. "I still don't like fighting for the empire. Are you sure we can't just let them finish each other off?"

               "If their numbers were more evenly match I might be inclined to agree," Claude said, "but Edelgard's forces are outmatched and I'm not keen on this Lord Arundel having the upper hand."

               Lysithea looked grim as she said, "Given that we now know that Lord Arundel is actually the mage Thales, we can be certain that having him in charge of Adrestia is much worse."

               "Yes," Marianne agreed. "He was responsible for Solon and Kronya at the academy and the demonic beasts that attacked Lady Rhea."

               Raphael punched a fist into his open palm. "I just want to know how we're supposed to tell them apart when we get there. I don't want to go clobbering the wrong imperial soldiers."

               "I believe Edelgard's forces will be wearing black bands or have black insignias painted on their armour to distinguish them. Please try to keep track," Lorenz said with a sigh.

               "Let's all try to stay on Edelgard's good side for now, all right, everyone?" Claude's request was met with murmurs of agreement and then he was pulling himself up into the wyvern's saddle and beginning his journey to Myrddin. Byleth watched until the shape of his wyvern was no more than a tiny speck in the sky. His dreams, his ambitions, all he hoped and planned for could disappear just as quickly if they didn't handle this situation precisely right.

               That thought occupied her mind a good deal for the rest of the day and it lingered in her thoughts the next morning as well as they drew nearer to Gronder. It was a few hours into the day's march when Edelgard drew her horse up along Byleth's. "I've just received a report that the font line has moved further north than anticipated. We'll need to alter our course at the next crossroad."

               Byleth nodded. She'd need to study the map again tonight to be certain she had a good grasp of the situation. Edelgard's forces were being pushed back at an alarming rate. If the reinforcements didn't change the tide of battle they'd be forced to retreat to Fort Mercius in a matter of days. Her attention returned to the present when Edelgard spoke again.

               "I've been meaning to ask about your banner." She tilted her chin in the direction of the standard bearer who rode at the head of the column holding the banner emblazoned with the Crest of Flames.

               "It was Claude's idea," Byleth explained, suddenly uncomfortable with the keen-eyed look Edelgard was giving her. "He wanted something that wouldn't imply we were acting on behalf of the Alliance."

               "While also capitalizing on your reputation and charisma."

               "Well—yes," Byleth admitted. In spite of her discomfort with the idea, the Knights of Seiros had joined their cause because of her, because Rhea had—for all intents and purposes—appointed Byleth as her successor.

               "And naturally he chose the Crest of Flames."

               Byleth shrugged. "He made a speech about the miracle of the crest reappearing after a thousand years and how we were striving for a miracle of our own." There was a faint twitch of Edelgard's lips. "Is that funny?"

               "No. Ironic perhaps. But never mind, Professor. We have more pressing matters at hand."

               Something about Edelgard's line of questioning struck her as odd, but she filed it away as one more thing to ponder later.

#

The battle was already in full swing when they reached Gronder, the air full of the cries of soldiers and the clash of blades. And also an unnerving sound, like thunder that rolled over the ground instead of through the clouds: the roar of demonic beasts.

               Byleth brought the army to a halt and had them hastily assemble into formations. Their numbers were limited so they had to engage the enemy from the optimal direction. Edelgard watched her, nodding in approval at Byleth's directions.

               As they were forming ranks, Byleth pulled Edelgard aside. "We need to make you as visible as possible to rally your troops. If we take point we can cut a swathe through the enemy ranks and draw everyone's attention to us."

               Edelgard's hand rested on the hilt of the Sword of Seiros, sheathed at her hip. "A risky strategy."

               Byleth nodded. "True. But when we sparred, you were a good deal stronger than you appeared. And I've heard that sword resonates with your crest as well."

                "I am. And it does."

               Byleth drew the Sword of the Creator. "Then fight by side, Edelgard." She felt something shift as the words left her mouth, as if she'd stepped into the ocean where before she'd only been standing on the shore. Edelgard's violet eyes fixed her and Byleth found herself drawn in again, like a piece of driftwood carried out to sea by the pull of the tide. Almost without realizing it, she took a half-step closer and it was strange, really, but she found that she wanted to be carried off by those waves. She wanted Edelgard to say yes.

               A beat, then two. Byleth held her breath.

               And then Edelgard drew the Sword of Seiros. "Nothing would please me more, Professor."

#

The two groups of imperial soldiers were already locked in battle when Byleth charged into their midst with Edelgard by her side. They broke through an enemy defensive formation as if it were nothing more than practice dummies in the academy training room. The forces they'd brought followed along behind them, shattering the enemy lines.

               It wasn't long before the soldiers loyal to Edelgard took notice. She heard "The emperor is here!" from one quarter and "It's Emperor Edelgard!" from another and soon a rallying cheer rose from the loyalist ranks.

               With the imperial infantry formations in disarray, a trio of demonic beasts were loosed on the loyalists. Byleth glanced at Edelgard, who nodded, and together they raced to intercept the frontmost creatures. Byleth snapped the whip-like form of the Sword of the Creator, striking the first demonic beast in the centre of its faceguard, shattering it and sending the creature flying backwards. The second lunged at Edelgard who easily sidestepped and slashed at its forelimb, tearing open an immense gash. The creature stumbled and Byleth leaped forward to slice open the other limb. It collapsed, flailing on the ground until Edelgard's sword stopped its thrashing.

               The third demonic beast was already on them and Byleth spun to face it, covering Edelgard as she withdrew her sword, buried deep in the corpse of the second monster. Byleth ducked away as a clawed limb swiped at her. Its leathery grey skin shifted over bunched muscles as it prepared to strike again. Before it could leap at Edelgard, Byleth darted forward, slashing with her sword, striking the faceguard, cracking it open and revealing a misshapen maw and beady yellow eyes. If Claude were here this would've been his cue to loose an arrow at the artificial crest stone lodged in the beast's forehead and put it out of its misery. But she and Edelgard were both earthbound and hacking at its limbs to bring it down was their best strategy.

               Edelgard was beside her again. The creature lurched towards them, jaws snapping. Byleth swept her blade in a wide arc to fend it off. Immediately, Edelgard darted in, striking at its exposed neck. Black fluid oozed from the wound. The demonic beast roared and swiped at them. They leaped away and its claws gouged the earth where they'd been standing seconds before. "I'll distract it," Byleth said. Edelgard nodded and they sprang into action as if they'd done this many times before.

               Byleth launched a series of quick strikes at the creature's feet, her sword biting deep into its clawed toes, and then swung wildly at its exposed muzzle when it drew close enough to snap at her. Edelgard, who had already moved to flank the beast, seized the opportunity to slash at the open wound on its neck, transforming it into a long rent in the beast's hide. It gurgled and wheezed as its dark blood flowed from the wound before it collapsed onto the ground.

               They turned to the onslaught of Arundel's soldiers, some reserve battalion set loose with no idea of who—and what—they were about to face. Few lived to regret it. Byleth sliced through their ranks with as little mercy as she had ever shown her enemies. Edelgard kept pace and if it troubled her that these were her countrymen, she never showed it. They moved in lockstep, cutting deep into the enemy ranks. It was easy to anticipate her movements and match them. Their swords were soon crimson-hued but Edelgard's name was on the lips of every soldier and they hoisted her banner high as the battle continued.

               She detected the approach of the enemy general long before they were visible. She could see the leftmost flank of their formations crumbling, soldiers falling back in droves. "Edelgard!" she called. She jutted her head in that direction. Edelgard nodded and together they began to move, carving a path through their enemies.

               When Byleth saw her, it was just as Caspar had described: a figure awash in a purple glow strode across the battlefield bearing two swords, one engraved with pulsing orange sigils. Her hair seemed wreathed in a fiery light, and as she drew closer, her eyes were like embers. And those eyes fixed Byleth with searing malevolence.

               Byleth did not race to meet her. She waited, senses alert, body taut.

               There was no doubt, no hesitation as the enemy general, this Epimenides, crossed the battlefield. It was as if nothing could touch her, as if all the mayhem and death around her were insignificant, belonging to a realm beneath hers. When she spoke, the voice was distinctly alien to its form, a masculine but oddly metallic voice, ill-suited to this woman's body. "Oh how I've waited for this day. Now I can finally rid the world of the Fell Star."

               And as she spoke the words, she fell upon Byleth, striking with both blades. Byleth raised the Sword of the Creator to block the blow, gauging her enemy's considerable strength as the twin blades bore down on her. "Are you Epimenides?" Locked in close combat as they were, Byleth could make out glowing triangular shapes on her opponent's face, like nothing she had seen with Thales or Solon.

               "I am." She shoved and Byleth was sent skidding backwards. Epimenides struck again, raining rapid blows against Byleth's defences. Her strength was alarming, her speed even more so. Her attacks were ferocious, her pace blistering. There was no time for Byleth to think, to analyze, only to react. A wild series of slashes kept Byleth on the defensive, the blades coming so close to her skin that she could feel the passage of them through the air, death a hair's breadth away.

               Again they locked swords, Epimenides's blades grinding against the Sword of the Creator, her ember eyes unblinking as she sneered at Byleth. "I'll carve out your monstrous heart and put an end to the beast dwelling within." She shoved Byleth hard.

               Byleth stumbled. "My heart?" she repeated, taken aback. How could this creature know about her heart—know more even than she did?

               But then the space between them was filled by a flash of scarlet and gold. Edelgard met Epimenides's twin blades with the Sword of Seiros. "Who are you?" she demanded. "Another one of Thales's experiments?"

               Her questions were met by a haughty laugh. "Oh no, I am not one of his creations. I have shown Thales how far he's strayed from the path of our people." Byleth watched, poised to react, as Epimenides struck at Edelgard. The glowing being's attacks were terrifying to watch, as quick and powerful as a wyvern's bite and just as deadly. Edelgard met her blow for blow, sparks leaping from the metal as the ember-bright blade met the undulating form of the Sword of Seiros. "Using the very thing we seek to destroy. Disgraceful." Edelgard clutched her hilt in both hands, arms trembling as she held off the twin clash of her blades. She forced Edelgard back. "I made it clear to Thales that you are unnecessary." Her blades struck. "Redundant." And again.

               For a beat Edelgard seemed ready to buckle but then all at once she swung her blade with full force. "How dare you!"

               Epimenides grimaced under the force of Edelgard's attack. "You are as much a monster as the Fell Star."

               And then a flash and Epimenides vanished—as if she'd used a warp spell but—

               She reappeared behind Edelgard who spun, but not in time to deflect the strike. Epimenides's glowing sword pierced Edelgard's armour as if it were nothing more than cloth.

               Byleth seized the threads of time and tugged hard.

               The world shattered like glass around her, erasing the din of battle, draining the colour from the world so that the blade and Edelgard's blood were the same dark shade. She took a breath to compose herself, to force down these feelings that had begun to trouble her whenever she saw harm befall a companion, feelings she'd never had to bear as the Ashen Demon. But seeing Edelgard pierced through had shot terror through her veins and her hands trembled around the hilt of her blade.

               She'd known before that she hadn't wanted to fight Edelgard, hadn't wanted to have to kill her, but it was more now. She didn't want Edelgard to die—by her hand or anyone else's. She didn't want to see her injured or maimed. She wanted her to live. All their taut, unfinished conversations couldn't end like this, on the end of Epimenides's blade.

               One long breath. Both hands around the hilt of her blade, solid and familiar. The power of Sothis herself flowed through her veins and was hers to wield.

               She undid time's tapestry, pulling loose the thread until she knew she could weave it anew.

               When time resumed she saw Epimenides disappear and she leaped behind Edelgard. Epimenides reappeared, blades slashing. Byleth heard Edelgard's gasp, felt the twin swords slide past the Sword of the Creator at not quite the right angle, felt the sting as they grazed her side. But Epimenides was off balance and Byleth seized the advantage, quickly dropping one hand from her sword to reach for the dagger at her hip and jab it into her opponent's exposed side.

               Epimenides roared and disappeared again, reappearing at a safe distance. The glowing sword had vanished and left her free to press a hand to the wound in her side. "You," she snarled. "I underestimated you. I will not do so again."

               Another flash and Epimenides was gone again.

               "The wound you gave her…" Edelgard asked tentatively.

               "Unlikely to be fatal," Byleth said even as she wiped the blood from her dagger. The blood was as red as any other she'd seen so at least she knew her foe could be killed, but Epimenides's power to appear at will was alarming. The magic she used was far more effective than a warp spell.

               Byleth scanned the battlefield. The area around them had cleared as no one wanted to interfere with such a combat, but beyond, the battle continued. Thales's mages rained dark magic down on the loyalist troops while Alois's knights charged the enemy Adrestians. Nearby, Hilda and Raphael were decimating a row of infantry while Lysithea picked off their archers.

               With an enemy general defeated, she would expect some sign of the enemy weakening, but instead it was their own ranks that were flagging—there on the western flank. Something was breaking through with as much ease as Epimenides had just minutes earlier.

               Edelgard had noticed too and gripped her sword tightly. "What's happening?"

               The words had only just left her mouth when a messenger arrived in the form of a wyvern rider, who landed in the cleared area around them. He slid down off his mount and bowed low. "Your Majesty, our forces are being attacked from the northwest by what appears to be Kingdom forces. They march under the banner of House Blaiddyd."

               "Remnants of the royal house?" Edelgard asked.

               "It's uncertain," he replied, "but their leader is brutally strong. Our soldiers are being felled in droves. Arundel's forces have shifted east, possibly to avoid them. We've also spotted reinforcements arriving from Aegir territory."

               Byleth rubbed her chin. "If we're caught in a pincer attack our forces will be cut in half and decimated."

               "Yes, I agree," Edelgard said. She turned to the messenger. "Find Count Bergliez and inform him that we must regroup at Fort Mercius."

               "Yes, Your Majesty."

               "Wait." Both Edelgard and the messenger gave Byleth puzzled looks. "You said Arundel's forces were moving east?"

               The messenger nodded. "Yes. If we wish to move to Fort Mercius this is the ideal time. A gap has opened on the battlefield; it's clearly visible from the air."

               Byleth frowned and peered out at the front line that had stretched some distance ahead of them. "That's too convenient. Arundel surely knows your plan would be to return to Fort Mercius; he should be blocking your retreat, not opening up a path."

               "What are you saying, Professor?"

               "We're being herded. Arundel wants your forces there." Byleth shook her head. "I just don't know why."

               The messenger turned his attention from Byleth to Edelgard. "Your Majesty?"

               The fierce determination in Edelgard's eyes never dimmed even as Byleth met her gaze. She kept her voice soft. "It's a trap. Please, Edelgard, trust me."

               Edelgard's voice was pitched low, the voice of lofty command that Byleth had sometimes heard her use with Claude and with her guards. "And what would your counsel be, Professor?"

               "Send your troops north towards Myrddin."

               Edelgard raised an eyebrow. "To be pinned between Arudel and the Airmid river?"

               Byleth shook her head. "If they harry us that far we’ll cross the river."

               "'We'? Are you proposing to allow my soldiers to cross the Great Bridge of Myrddin after you fought so hard to repel us?"

               "If necessary, yes."

                For a long moment there was only the distant sounds of battle and the huff of the messenger's wyvern as it shifted its wings. Edelgard's gaze remained on Byleth's face, as if she could divine Byleth's very thoughts if she stared at her long enough. Finally she gave a nod. "Very well." She turned to the messenger. "Inform Count Bergliez that we will retreat north alongside the Professor's troops towards Myrddin."

               "Yes, Your Majesty." The messenger bowed again and then was on his wyvern and off into the skies to relay the message through the skyborne network.

               "We should get moving," Edelgard said. Byleth nodded and followed behind as she began to rally her troops and give the command to turn north. Byleth passed the order along to her own companions and soon the fighting began to shift directions as the Knights of Seiros and the loyalists attempted to disengage.

               Byleth kept her Deer close to cover the retreat, while also staying close to Edelgard. It was only once Count Bergliez's main force had turned northward and was in full retreat that she and Edelgard began moving themselves, acting as a rearguard to fend off the cavalry that had been sent to give chase. But Byleth had anticipated this and asked Edelgard to keep a detachment of imperial wyverns close at hand. They swooped low, attacking the mounted knights, knocking them from their saddles and allowing Byleth's forces to finish the job. They were almost clear of it when a roar thundered across the battlefield.

               "Edelgard! I will cleave your head from you shoulders!"

               Between the mass of men and horses, Byleth could just make out a figure, tall and broad-shouldered, no helmet, pale dishevelled hair, one eye covered by a patch, his face spattered with blood.

               Edelgard was frozen in place, staring. "Is that… Dimitri?"

               "I will tear you to pieces with my bare hands!" Every word from his lips was like the snarl of a rabid beast. Arundel's forces remained between him and Edelgard and she watched as he skewered one soldier on his spear and crushed another's throat with his free hand. It seemed to matter little to him whose forces they belonged to so long as they stood between him and Edelgard.

               "He's gone mad," Byleth said. There were others with him in Kingdom colours. Other members of the surviving House Blaiddyd? Or perhaps the Blue Lions? "There's no point in fighting him like this. We need to go." She gave Edelgard's arm a tug and that seemed to bring Edelgard to her senses.

               "Yes, let's."

               And then they raced after the rest of their forces headed towards Myrddin and left Arundel's soldiers to be slaughtered by the madman who'd once been Prince Dimitri.

Chapter Text

It was late in the day when they finally reached one of the imperial army's fortified camps in the north of Bergliez territory. After that there was the matter of seeing to the wounded and getting everyone else fed. By the time the logistics were sorted out it was dusk. The sky was clear and the spring night was warm so most of the battle-worn soldiers simply gathered around campfires rather than trying to pitch tents. Byleth found her Deer gathered around one such fire.

               Marianne, who'd been aiding the camp healers, was already sound asleep next to Hilda, who was not actually asleep but clearly pretending to be—likely so no one would ask her to help with anything. Raphael was telling Ignatz about the demonic beast he'd fought while Lorenz complained about the disorganized retreat. Leonie was polishing her bow and Lysithea, looking a bit grey, hugged her knees and tried to keep her drooping eyelids open.

               "Professor!" several voices greeted her in unison.

               She spent a while answering their questions about Epimenides, about Dimitri, and about the decision to retreat north, and she checked in with each of them. Everyone was safe. They had fought well together just as they had each and every time they'd faced off against imperial troops. But she was glad she'd been the one to face Epimenides. In her mind's eye she could still see the sword piercing Edelgard's torso and she couldn't bear to think of the same thing happening to one of her students. None of them would be able to survive an encounter with Epimenides. Her own survival had been in jeopardy as it was.

               Lysithea gave her a serious look. "You need your rest as well, Professor." She spoke sternly but the effect was somewhat ruined when she had to cover a yawn before she quite got the last syllable out.

               Byleth nodded. "Soon. I just need to check on a few more—"

               "Professor, I thought I might find you here." Heads turned as the emperor of Adrestia approached their campfire. Even after fighting side by side with the soldiers loyal to Edelgard, several of the Deer eyed her warily. After all, one battle could hardly erase five years of animosity. Byleth knew it was easier for her since she'd been absent for those five years and she'd had many opportunities now to speak with Edelgard; she was not the heartless monster popular opinion made her out to be, and her motivations were far more rational and less sinister than she'd been led to believe by Rhea and Seteth before the battle of Garreg Mach.

               "Edelgard. What can I do for you?"

               "There are some matters I wish to discuss with you." She was using what Byleth had come to think of as her 'emperor voice', tighter and a bit lower than the voice she used when they were alone and discussing personal matters.

               "Of course." Byleth wished her students a good night and then followed after Edelgard. "It was nice being able to fight side by side with someone," Byleth said when Edelgard seemed unwilling to break the silence that had settled over them as they walked. "Claude is usually on his wyvern so I don't get much more than a glimpse of him during a battle."

               "It was certainly an interesting experience," Edelgard replied. "I admit it's rare to find someone who can keep pace with me." They were some distance from the Deer and the Knights of Seiros and back among Edelgard's own troops when she spoke again. "I wanted to thank you. You saved my life today." Campfires flickered on either side of them as they passed between groups of tired soldiers,s and the light cast shifting shadows across Edelgard's features.

               "I was just returning the favour. You did save me when my leg was injured."

               Edelgard shook her head. "No, that won't do at all. I was repaying you for when you saved me six years ago when we first met. Now I'm in your debt again."

               Byleth's lips twitched. "I suppose you'll just have to save me again in that case."

               Edelgard gave her a look as if trying to gauge if she was serious and finally sighed. "Have you at least had your wound seen to?"

               "It's just a scratch."

               "Now I see why you have so many scars, Professor. To you, everything is just a scratch."

               Byleth was glad for the darkness that concealed the blush creeping up her cheeks. She'd never given it much thought at the academy, but now the idea of Edelgard's eyes on her, lingering on her skin, on her scars, had a profoundly different effect. "The healers have been busy with the wounded."

               "Then let me see to it. It's the least I can do after today."

               If anyone else had offered she would have waved off their concern but she couldn't say no to Edelgard—or rather, she didn't want to. "All right."

               And so, a few minutes later, they sat on a long bench in a tent used for tactical planning, judging by the maps left out on the table. Edelgard had acquired water, bandages, and a small cylinder that Byleth suspected contained one of those fiery solutions healers liked to use to clean wounds.

               When Byleth had reached camp, she'd made a point of tugging her jacket on to conceal the wound in her side, but now she shrugged it off. She hesitated a moment but then peeled off her shirt as well, leaving her only in her breastband. Edelgard's face was as scarlet as her cloak but she said nothing as she leaned in to inspect the pair of parallel slashes over Byleth's ribs. "You really should have this seen to by a healer, Professor," she said, even as she dipped a cloth in water and then pressed in to Byleth's side, gently washing away the blood.

               "Later," Byleth replied softly. How strange it was. They'd been enemies such a short time ago and now she was letting Edelgard tend her wound, letting her so close. If Edelgard had wished to, she could easily have driven a dagger through her and finished her off for good. But instead, she was carefully cleaning the pair of cuts, avoiding the gruesome scabs that had formed along their length and the places where the wound was still oozing. She had removed her gloves and Byleth found herself watching the movement of those slender hands.

               The silence seemed too strained, too intimate so finally she asked, "Did you know about Dimitri? I was told he'd been killed."

               Edelgard's lips turned down in a faint grimace. "I'd heard the same. If Cornelia knew of his escape she kept that information to herself."

               And while Dimitri's condition was disturbing, it was not what weighed on her the most. Not when she could recall Epimenides's words so clearly.

               I'll carve out your monstrous heart and put an end to the beast dwelling within.

               Having finished washing the cuts, Edelgard turned to the little vial. "I expect this will sting." Byleth gritted her teeth and nodded. Edelgard dribbled the astringent fluid over the cuts. It stung.

               "What Epimenides said to you…" Byleth began once the discomfort had subsided.

               "Which part?" Edelgard said, voice taut. "That I was a monster or that I was unnecessary?"

               "You're not unnecessary."

               Edelgard's fingers froze, hovering over Byleth's skin where she'd been wiping off the remains of the stinging concoction. "I clearly am to Arundel."

               "He's wrong." For a moment Edelgard's fingers rested against her skin. Byleth had been treated by many healers, had had many wounds bandaged or stitched up, but never before had she wanted someone's touch to linger. Never had such a simple touch made her feel… cared for.

               "It's… kind of you to say, Professor, but if Arundel's coup is successful—"

               "Then we'll need you more than ever to stop him. I'm sure reforming the current ruling system isn't high on his agenda."

               A rueful smile played across Edelgard's lips. "No, we can be certain of that much at least." And then she looked up to meet Byleth's eyes. "But that wasn't what you wanted to ask about, was it? You wanted to ask why he called me a monster."

               Byleth never looked away as she spoke. "You're like Lysithea, aren't you? You have two crests."

               Edelgard didn't answer. Instead, she reached for the bandages and unwound one of the long, linen strips. "I could ask you about what Epimenides said to you, Professor. Something about your monstrous heart and the beast inside you?"

               Pressing her palm against her chest, Byleth tried to make sense of it. How could Epimenides know what she herself barely understood? "Edelgard?" Edelgard paused and glanced up at her. "My heart," Byleth said and then, deciding it would be easier to show her, hooked a thumb into the top of her breastband and tugged it down a little until the straight white line of a scar disappearing between her breasts was visible.

               Edelgard's eyes went wide even as her cheeks grew very red.

               "Lady Rhea told me once that I was born without a heartbeat. My mother begged her to save me. And she did. I'm just not sure precisely how. She said she gave me my mother's heart."

               Edelgard shifted her gaze from the scar to meet Byleth's eyes. "What did she mean?"

               "I don't know. I didn't dare ask at the time." She released the material and let it settle back over the only scar whose presence on her body she couldn't account for.

               "And this is why you wanted to speak to Rhea again."

               "Yes."

               Silence settled over them once more. Edelgard's hands worked deftly, winding the linen bandages around Byleth's torso, covering the twin slash marks as Byleth watched. Her slender fingers never lingered longer than they needed to, but Byleth found herself wishing that they would. "Thank you," Byleth said when Edelgard had finished wrapping and was checking that the bandage was secure. A sudden impulse seized her and she reached down to rest a hand over one of Edelgard's and squeeze those pale fingers.

               "You're quite welcome," Edelgard replied, a little breathlessly, her faced flushed scarlet once again. She made a show of inspecting the bandage one last time but when she finally drew back, her eyes didn't immediately meet Byleth's. Instead they slid over the length of her torso, taking in Byleth's exposed skin. "I don't remember you having this many scars at the academy," she said when she did finally look up to meet Byleth's gaze.

               Byleth tilted her head. "Were you keeping count?"

               "I—no—of course not. I only meant—" She broke off as she saw the look on Byleth's face. "Are you… teasing me?"

               "Maybe a little."

               "I am the emperor of Adrestia," Edelgard said, straightening.

               "And I am the leader of the Church, so it seems," Byleth said, reaching for her bloodied shirt.

               "Is that what you want?" Edelgard asked. "To be the next archbishop?"

               "Not particularly." Byleth tugged the shirt on and spent a moment adjusting it before pulling on her jacket. "I know so little about the Church. It seems ridiculous to imagine me running it."

               "Then what do you want, Professor?"

               She paused, her jacket half on and looked at Edelgard for a beat. "No one's ever asked me that before."

               Edelgard rose and packed up the remaining medical supplies. "Perhaps you should give the matter some thought."

               "Perhaps I will," she said softly. And then, back in her clothes and all patched up, she became again the Byleth that she was expected to be. "What was it you wanted to speak to me about earlier?" Byleth watched as those warm fingers that had so gently brushed over her ribs disappeared once more into Edelgard's red leather gloves.

               "I had planned to ask you about Epimenides, but it seems we've covered that topic."

               "Yes," Byleth said with a nod as she followed Edelgard out of the tent. "We need a strategy on how to deal with her in battle but I'll need to think on that for a while."

               They'd just stepped out of the tent when something caught Byleth's eye, drawing her gaze upward. A trail of light in the sky. No… several of them.

               "What in the world…" Edelgard murmured, as she too gazed upward at the lights moving too quickly to be shooting stars.

               It wasn't until morning that they received the first reports: Fort Mercius had been obliterated by javelins of light falling from the sky.

Chapter Text

All day long messengers came and went delivering report after report. Fort Merceus, the pride of Bergliez territory lay in ruins. None who'd been within its walls when the javelins of light struck had survived. Arundel's armies were regrouping and appeared to have paused in their attacks to consolidate their hold on southern Bergliez lands.

               Byleth had left the command post only briefly to confer with Alois's forces reporting back from a patrol. When she returned, she found Edelgard rifling through a stack of papers, her lips thinned to a line. She looked pale and the dark circles beneath her eyes were impossible to miss. Nearby, Dorothea, and Petra were sifting through stacks of messages relayed from scouts.

               "I can't make heads or tails of this," Dorothea announced with a huff of frustration. "I have one report that says Dimitri was killed in the fighting and another that claims he was captured by Arundel's forces. Then I have another that says some of the Kingdom army escaped south and another that claims they were slaughtered and there were no survivors."

               Petra nodded. "In my homeland we are having an expression to describe such things. It is being called the 'mist of discord'. When people are warring it is being very difficult to be knowing all the happenings."

                Edelgard appeared oblivious to the discussion, her gaze fixed on the reports in front of her. It occurred to Byleth that normally Hubert would have been at her elbow, sorting through all of this for her and presenting her with the relevant details. She understood his position as Minister of the Imperial House to make him both counsellor and attendant to Edelgard. That was no small loss, both personally and practically. He certainly would have known what to do with conflicting reports and how best to present them to the emperor.

               Byleth took a seat next to Edelgard. Her mind flitted back to last night when Edelgard's fingers had brushed over her skin, so carefully tending her wound. It felt like another life, like for a moment she'd had a taste of what it was to be human and now she was once again… whatever she was. The Ashen Demon. The vessel into which Sothis had poured all her power. Rhea's successor. A monster. All of those things, none of them normal, none of them human.

               "What is it that's so dire?" Byleth asked.

               "Our supply chains were based out of Fort Merceus. Now that we've lost that…" Edelgard lowered her voice. "You've saved my army but I may no longer be able to feed them."

               Edelgard's tone was impressively neutral but Byleth could see the worry etched on her features. "We'll develop a new strategy," Byleth said. She let a hand rest on Edelgard's shoulder. "Don't despair."

               Something shifted in Edelgard, emotions flitting across her face as if she were trying to piece together a shattered glass mask. "Of course," Edelgard said, her features smoothing, though Byleth could still feel the tension in her shoulders. From the corner of her eye she caught Dorothea watching them and she was about to say something to her when a burly figure appeared in the command tent entrance. From the bear head on his pauldron she deduced that this was Caspar's father, the Minister of Military Affairs, Count Bergliez himself.

               Count Bergliez marched over to the emperor and offered a shallow bow. "Your Majesty." He turned then to Byleth and gave her an appraising look. "And this must be Riegan's infamous general."

               "Infamous?" Byleth repeated.

               Edelgard nodded. "Yes, this is Byleth Eisner."

               The sound of her name on Edelgard's lips was like hearing a distant echo, the words familiar but rendered somehow foreign. But she wanted to hear them again.

               Count Bergliez grunted. "Well I'd expected we would meet on the battlefield but instead I understand I have to thank you. If you hadn't convinced Her Majesty to turn us north we'd all be in our graves now."

               Byleth accepted the thanks with a small nod. "You've worked with Lord Arundel a long time. Did you have any idea he possessed a weapon that could level an entire fortress?"

               "No, but I gather there's a good deal he's been keeping to himself." Count Bergliez crossed his arms and his scowl looked every bit as ferocious as the bear on his shoulder. "That snake. We knew he'd betray us one day, but we never expected it to be this early."

               "The real problem is Epimenides," Byleth said.

               "I agree," Edelgard said, "but no one seems to know where she appeared from."

               For a beat no one spoke. Finally Byleth sighed. "We need to regroup at Myrddin. Hopefully Claude will have sorted things out with the other Alliance leaders and we can make plans from there."

               Count Bergliez laughed. "You just finished repelling our armies from Myrddin and now you want to send us right back."

               Byleth shrugged. "The circumstances have changed somewhat."

               Edelgard sniffed. "Somewhat indeed."

               From there the meeting broke apart as everyone agreed to make preparations to head for Myrddin the next day. But as Byleth left the tent, she found Dorothea walking beside her.

               "You and Edie seem to be getting along well," Dorothea noted, her tone breezy.

               Byleth tilted her head. "Why wouldn't we?"

               "Well there are some rather nasty rumours flying around about Edie."

               Byleth wasn't sure "nasty" covered it. Even before the army had arrived at Garreg Mach she'd heard that Edelgard had deposed her father and taken control of Adrestia. There was talk that she'd had the Prime Minister arrested. And Dimitri had been convinced (for reasons Byleth didn't quite understand) that Edelgard had been behind the Duscur tragedy, even though she couldn't have been more than thirteen or fourteen at the time. Upon Byleth's return from her extended sleep, she'd been told Edelgard was without mercy, that she was a monster, that she cared for nothing but power and that she would stop at nothing but the complete conquest of Fódlan.

               "I know better than to believe rumours," Byleth replied simply. The situation in Enbarr was obviously more complicated than she knew, and Edelgard's relationship with Thales and the other mages not quite as close as she'd been led to believe.

               Dorothea made a little humming sound. She glanced at Byleth and then away just as quickly. "I also thought you'd be… angry with us."

               "Angry?"

               "Edie did start a war, and we did follow her even after we found out about the Flame Emperor and all of that nonsense."

               Byleth tried to think back to those days at Garreg Mach. It had been only months for her yet the rest of the world had moved on, and she'd spent those few months reconciling her present and past as best she could. "I was shocked, of course. And confused. But mostly I wanted to protect my students and everyone at Garreg Mach."

               "And now?" Dorothea said softly.

               "I understand better now. And…" She halted and waited for Dorothea to stop as well so she could meet her gaze. "I don't know if what Edelgard—or all of you—did was right. And I don't know if what Lady Rhea did was right. But I believe we want the same things for Fódlan and that we can cut a new path together."

               Dorothea smiled. "I would like that. And thank you for sparing Ferdie."

               Byleth nodded. "Of course. I would save everyone if I could."

               "I'm afraid not everyone at Myrddin will feel the same, but thank you, Professor."

#

               When she caught up to Edelgard later in the day, Byleth found the emperor once again sifting through what now seemed to be reams of reports, stacked in disparate piles on the small table in her tent. The scattered papers on the floor suggested yet another pile that had tumbled off the edge. A squired Byleth had seen around Edlegard's camp was just depositing another report into one of the piles. "Thank you, Fleche," Edelgard said. The squire bowed and then hesitated a moment as her eyes came to rest on Byleth. Byleth offered a smile but the girl's brow furrowed and she darted out of the tent.

               Edelgard didn't even glance up at Byleth. "What can I do for you, Professor?"

               "I'm sorry to bother you when you're so busy." She bent to gather up several sheets from the floor, all of them reports on foodstuffs and other supplies.

               "You're unlikely to find a time when I'm not."

               She stacked the sheets neatly and deposited them on the table. "Regarding the march to Myrddin… I need to ask something of you that I don't think you'll care for."

               Edelgard looked up from the reports, her gaze sharp. "And what's that?"

               "I need your army to march under my banner. Even if we have an agreement with Claude, if the Alliance and Church soldiers see an army waving the Adrestian banner marching towards the bridge, I don't think they'll allow us to cross."

               In the silence that followed, Edelgard's gaze never left her face, and her expression was as hard and cold as the frozen lake she'd once crossed during a winter trek to fight Sreng back when she'd been in her father's mercenary company. "You risk undermining my authority," Edelgard said finally.

               Byleth shook her head. "You won't regain your throne with authority, Edelgard. What you need now is allies."

               "I've had poor luck with allies of late."

               She kept her eyes on Edelgard, never flinching, her expression neutral, though she felt the barb—as if there could be any comparison between her and Edelgard's former "allies". "You've made poor choices in allies."

               Edelgard turned her attention back to the reports. "You speak as if there had ever been a real choice."

               "I need you to do this, for the good of all of your soldiers." How was it that only a day ago they'd been fighting side by side, that just last night Edelgard had been so gently tending her wounds? Now she seemed so closed off that Byleth couldn't reach her even as she stood there in front of her.

               She shuffled through the reports once more, her lips thinned to a line. "Very well, Professor."

               Why did her tone sting? She'd dealt with haughty comments from the Alliance's Round Table leaders and never batted an eye. But Edelgard's sudden about-face made something inside her ache. She took half a step closer, close enough that if she reached out, she could grasp the hand that held those scrawled reports. "Edelgard, I'm doing everything in my power to help you."

               Edelgard's eyes darted up to hers and away just as quickly, her expression softening for the blink of an eye before that chill mask returned. "I've relied on you too much already. You've saved us and now we're at your mercy." Byleth's fingers reach out but froze as Edelgard continued. "And if Hubert were here he would caution me against placing my fate in your hands."

               Byleth drew her hand back as if burned. "Because of who I serve? Or because of what I am?" Edelgard didn't reply, didn't look at her, and somehow that was worse than being treated as an enemy, worse than when they'd clashed with swords. "What am I? Does Hubert know? Do you?"

               And this did finally draw Edelgard's attention back to her, eyes narrowed as she regarded Byleth. "Did Rhea really never tell you?"

               "No."

               "Then perhaps you, too, have made a poor choice in allies."

               And to that Byleth had no reply.

#

Byleth had not intended to be found, so she was rather surprised when Hilda appeared around the wyvern enclosure, carrying what looked to be a bowl of stew. "I saved you some dinner, Professor," she said cheerfully, holding the bowl out to her.

               Perplexed, Byleth peered at it for a moment, then took it along with the proffered spoon. "Thank you," she said and shoved a spoonful into her mouth. It was cold and lacked seasoning, but was decent, filling fare in preparation for tomorrow's march.

               "I know I used to say I couldn't tell what was going on in that skull of yours, but even I can tell there's something wrong if you skip meals."

               "I'm fine," Byleth said between mouthfuls. "You don't need to worry about me."

               Hilda hummed noncommittally. "Even with that blank expression, you're a terrible liar, Professor."

               Byleth swallowed a mouthful of stew. "Sorry."

               "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it. And if I had to deal with everything you do, I'd definitely be hiding too."

               Byleth was about to object that she wasn't hiding and then thought better of it. She'd just wanted some time alone to think.

               "Don't you ever get tired of it?" Hilda asked.

               "Tired of what?"

               Hildra spread her hands wide as if to encompass the whole camp. "All of it. Everyone is always depending on you. First they made you a professor, then you're a general, and then you're suddenly in charge of the Church too?" She let out a heavy sigh. "It sounds exhausting."

               A tiny smile curled Byleth's lips. "Do you think I should find someone else to do it?"

               Hilda made a show of considering the matter seriously. "That's what I would do of course but it might be a just a tad too late for you, Professor."

               "I suppose you're right."

               One of the nearby wyverns grumbled loudly and Hilda shot it a look. "Oh hush. No one asked your opinion."

               And Byleth did finally smile, her mood lifting a little. She still had her Deer after all, no matter what else was going on. "Hilda?"

               "Hm?"

               "How did you find me?"

               "Oh, well… I was feeding the wyverns."

               Byleth quirked a brow. "Don't you normally find someone else to do that?"

               "It's true, I usually do find someone who's happy to feed these big noisy brutes, but it was Marianne's turn tonight and she's still so worn out from healing everyone so…" She heaved another sigh. "I volunteered to take her turn." And then when she noticed the amused look on Byleth's face. "But don't go expecting me to make a habit of it."

               "I wouldn't dream of it," Byleth said and finished the last of her stew. The stew had been cold, but her belly felt full and her heart, unbeating as it was, felt warm.

Chapter Text

The imperial army marched under Byleth's banner, the Crest of Flames rippling in the wind. Edelgard did not speak to her the entire way to Myrddin. She rode at the head of the army, sitting rigidly in the saddle and staring straight ahead. Even the Eagles seemed wary of her in this mood.

                As they approached the looming gates of the fortress bridge, Byleth could see the bowmen on the crenellated towers, could almost feel the weight of their gazes as they lay eyes on the Emperor of Adrestia who rode at Byleth's right. She wondered if any of them dared to draw their bows, if any were tempted to loose an arrow to avenge some friend or kinsman or lover felled during the recent battle. She could feel the threads of time, tingling at the edge of her sensation. If an arrow flew, she would grasp those threads. She would not let anyone's personal vendetta stand in the way of their chance to change Fódlan's fate.

                No arrows came. The gates of Myrddin slowly swung open to admit the army that marched beneath Byleth's banner but a lone figure stood on the bridge, a glowing sword clutched in its hand.

                Byleth raised a hand to halt their advance and then dismounted to meet the figure. "Catherine," she called out.

                Catherine did not put down her sword and an orange glow emanated from the relic as if alive with the pulse of a beating heart. "I won't let her through," Catherine snarled.

                "Catherine—"

                "No! How can you bring her here after everything she's done? For all you know this is just a plot to get the imperial army into Alliance territory. They failed to take Myrddin by force so now they're doing it by guile. And you're just letting her dupe you."

                Byleth shook her head. "Thales has destroyed Fort Merceus. It's nothing but rubble now. If we'd been there we'd have met the same fate. It's no trick."

                And still Catherine didn't budge. "I won't forgive her for what she did to Lady Rhea!"

                Byleth drew her sword.

                Catherine's entire body trembled with rage. Only her sword remained still. "You're choosing them over us?"

                "It's not a choice. They're our allies now, as are you."

                "You can't make an ally out of a snake. It'll always bite you in the end."

                Byleth took a step forward, raising her voice so that it echoed to the battlements. "Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg and all of her army is under my protection. Anyone who harms them will answer to me."

                Catherine's lips drew back in a snarl and Byleth braced herself for an attack. She didn't want to fight an ally, but she would.

                "Enough." Byleth heard rather than saw Edelgard dismount and come to join her on the bridge. She wanted to warn her away, but she dared not take her eyes from Catherine for even a moment. "Thunderbrand Catherine, if you wish to see Rhea again then you'll have to take the palace in Enbarr. That's where she was being held—at least the last time I was there. I can make no promises for what actions Lord Arundel has taken in my absence."

                Catherine's arms buckled. "Lady Rhea's alive?"

                "To my knowledge, yes," Edelgard replied.

                "And you've kept her locked up all this time?"

                Edelgard never flinched under Catherine's glare. "Would you have preferred the alternative?"

                Catherine took a step forward. "I'd have preferred if you—"

                "Catherine," Byleth said, her voice low as she stepped between her and the emperor.

                Byleth met Catherine's stare for stare as the seconds ticked past. Finally, with a snarled expletive, Catherine sheathed Thunderbrand. Byleth waited a beat before she, too, put away the Sword of the Creator. The relics lost their orange glow and settled back into their normal shade of dull ivory. "You're making a mistake," Catherine said as she turned her back.

                "Perhaps," Byleth replied. "But it's mine to make."

                When she turned back towards her troops, she found Edelgard watching her with an unreadable expression. Their eyes lingered on each other for a long moment before Edelgard turned to mount her horse and Byleth did likewise. As Byleth led their combined army through the gates of Myrddin, all she could think about was trying to decipher the look on Edelgard's face.

#

Byleth was in the midst of checking her gear when Claude knocked on the door to the room that she'd been assigned.

                "Hey, Teach, got a few minutes?"

                "Come in," she called, but remained seated on the floor with her gear spread out before her. Even though Myrddin was a fortress for military defence, it had been built with large rooms for the nobles who visited the place or who occasionally served there. It was several times the size of her room at Garreg Mach, which made her slightly uneasy.

                "I heard you had a rough go of it this morning." Claude sported his usual smile, even though, like most things of late, this was no laughing matter.

                She wore only light armour in battle, just enough to ward off stray arrows, but the individual pieces required care just as her swords and daggers did. Byleth set down the bracer she'd been cleaning and looked at him. "You could say that," she replied as blandly as possible. She'd known of course that her allies in the Church would be displeased, but she'd truly hoped they could understand the tactical importance of working with Edelgard and set their feelings aside for the good of Fódlan's future.

                "We'll have to keep a close eye on things," he said. "Lots of short tempers and hard feelings all around."

                She picked the bracer back up and inspected the underside. "If they'd ever met Thales or Epimenides they'd know working with Edelgard's forces is the better option."

                "I heard you tangled with their new general. Is she as bad as Caspar said?"

                She spent a moment turning over her gear as she turned over the question in her mind. "Worse. She's very strong—as strong as me. And she has some sort of ability to warp very quickly. I've never seen anything quite like it. It gives her an incredible advantage in battle."

                Claude rubbed his beard. "That does complicate matters."

                "What about the Round Table? Did they agree to the document you and Edelgard had settled on?"

                "After endless hours of debate, yes." He watched as she scrubbed the dirt off the bracer. "You know you could get someone to do that for you, Teach. You are Lady Rhea's successor after all."

                She didn't look up. "I prefer to do it myself."

                A small huff of laughter. "I figured you'd say that." He took a seat finally. "I have some other news too. My sources tell me there are Kingdom forces on the march. Looks like Edelgard was on the mark when she said they'd move against us." Byleth stopped in her work to look up at him but he held up a hand to stop her questions. "Don't worry. I've got something up my sleeve. I'm just waiting for all the pieces to come together."

                She looked at him for a long moment before finally nodding. It was just like Claude play things close to the vest but in the end, she trusted him and was willing to wait for him to reveal his scheme when the time was right.

                "How are you holding up with our imperial allies? Is Edelgard giving you a hard time?"

                She wanted to be truthful with Claude but she hardly knew how to answer that. She wished she could tell him about the strange pull she felt towards Edelgard, how very much she wanted to avoid a situation where they would be enemies again. More than anything she wanted to be allies with her army—or rather, with her. But she didn't think she could properly explain something she barely understood herself and she suspected he'd just make a joke about not allowing herself to be seduced by the enemy. "I can handle Edelgard," was the answer she settled on. And she hoped very much that it was the truth.

#

As Byleth approached the dining hall, it was impossible not to hear Catherine's voice.

                "—a mistake. Goddess! I don't understand what she's thinking."

                Lysithea's reply was harder to distinguish, but Byleth held herself as still as if she were on a scouting mission in enemy territory. "I understand why you're upset, but I think the professor is right."

                Catherine groaned. "Not you too."

                "You haven't seen this new general of theirs. She could turn the tide of battle singlehandedly. If we don't take all the help we can get, we'll be pushed back just as easily as Edelgard's army was."

                 "Let them kill each other off then. If the professor thinks she can trust Edelgard she's going to be in for a nasty a surprise. She'll betray us the first chance she gets, just like she did five years ago."

                The conversation faded and Byleth waited several more minutes before she finally headed into the dining hall. Catherine saw her and announced to Lysithea that she'd better be on her way. Byleth let her go without comment. Instead, she joined the food line and then joined Lysithea with her bowl of pottage and a hefty hunk of bread and cheese. "I didn't know you and Catherine were friends," she said before digging in to her lunch.

                Lysithea gave a slow nod. "She looked out for me quite a bit when we were at the academy." Byleth munched thoughtfully as Lysithea paused and appeared to be considering something. "There's also the matter of our crests," she said finally. Byleth, mouth full of stew, tilted her head and raised her eyebrows. "We both have a Crest of Charon. There's anecdotal evidence to suggest that similar crests can have a sort of resonating effect."

                "Resonating?" Byleth repeated, before tearing off another hunk of bread.

                "It can have the effect of creating an affinity between bearers of the same crest."

                Byleth straightened, the new information tickling something at the back of her mind. "So people with the same crest are more likely to get along?"

                Lysithea shrugged. "It's a tendency but it's not guaranteed. After all, doesn't Lady Rhea have a Crest of Seiros just like Edelgard?"

                Before Byleth could pursue that train of thought, they were interrupted by the arrival of a guard, panting for breath. "General Eisner, you're needed in the main courtyard. Another fight."

                Byleth was already on the move before he could finish. She raced there but already the combatants had drawn a crowd of onlookers, yelling encouragement or hurling insults. Shoving her way through the knot of Alliance soldiers, she reached the ring where a pair of men fought each other barehanded. One already sported a badly split lip while the other had a gash above his left eye that oozed down the side of his face and a distinct limp—but didn't stop him from swinging another punch. Byleth grabbed his fist mid-swing and flung him aside. The other man wore an Alliance tabard and she grabbed a fistful of the fabric and raised him off the ground.

                "Who started this?" she demanded. The crowd had fallen silent.

                "I did," the Alliance soldier replied. "These imperial dogs—"

                She gave him a shake that rattled his teeth. "I don't want to hear it. There's no time to fight amongst ourselves. We've worse enemies coming for us." He paled, the fight gone out of him and she set him back down. Everyone was looking at her now as if they expected her to execute one or both of the combatants. It was the Ashen Demon they saw, she supposed. She had been used to comrades being afraid of her back then. Now it had an entirely different effect, making her long for her students, her friends. "Latrine duty for the rest of the month," she barked. "Give me your name and the captain of your unit."

                He'd just finished listing out his details when a wave of murmurs swept through the knot of onlookers. The crowd parted for the emperor of Adrestia.

                Edelgard's features were a mask of fury as her eyes took in the pair of combatants. "Can't you keep control of your people, Professor?"

                Byleth turned to face her, expression neutral, though something in her gut wrenched. She could bear the emperor's ire… but she didn't enjoy it. "The situation is under control."

                Edelgard's eyes met hers and it felt as if the emperor wished to skewer her with her eyes alone. This was the woman who was feared the continent over, rather than the one who'd so gently tended her wounds just days before.

                Edelgard's eyes bored into her. "This is third incident in as many days."

                Byleth nodded, radiating calm in the centre of the storm. "I'm doing everything I can."

                Their gazes held for a moment longer and Edelgard's anger never ebbed, but finally she turned away, looking to the imperial soldier with the gash who was clearly favouring his left leg. "It's isn't enough."

                Edelgard left. The crowd dispersed. But her clipped words lingered long after in Byleth's mind, a chill that settled in her bones and that still, quiet place in her chest.

Chapter Text

Frowning at the latest set of reports, Edelgard reached for her cup of tea but when she brought it to her lips she found the bitter brew already cold. She knew she ought to be grateful for the hospitality and that she was able to have tea at all, but being constantly reminded of their supplicant status was growing wearisome.

               A knock on the door turned out to be Dorothea, there to remind her that she was expected in the council room for a meeting with Claude and the professor. "Thank you, Dorothea," she said and downed the cold remains of her over-steeped tea.

               Dorothea began sorting through the mess of papers on the small table in Edelgard's decidedly small room. "Go easy on the professor, Edie. You've been awfully short with her lately."

               "She's not our friend," Edelgard said sharply.

               Dorothea glanced at her, eyebrows raised. "Well she's not our enemy anymore either, is she? And I thought we were supposed to stay on the Alliance's good side."

               "Be that as it may…" How had the situation spun so rapidly out of control? She was now an emperor-in-exile with the remains of an army and no supplies, reduced to depending on the charity of her former enemies. She wondered why they even bothered to invite her to strategy meetings when she had so little say in decisions.

               "Well either way you need to get to that meeting and you can at least enjoy the view," Dorothea said with a wink.

               Edelgard could feel the blood creeping into her cheeks. She'd taken in quite enough of the view already and it never left her mind. Instead of nightmares, she was tormented at night by dreams of Byleth. Dreams where her fingers rested again on her skin. Dreams where she traced the pattern of every scar. Dreams where Byleth spoke her name with awed reverence—and with need. It was the academy all over again but a thousand times worse. Now the professor knew what she was, had seen her plans and the blood-soaked path she must walk—yet still Byleth spoke to her with kindness, went out of her way to be helpful. Edelgard had expected condemnation, had expected wrath, not kindness and conciliation.

               Edelgard kept her tone perfectly and entirely even. "I'll keep that in mind."

               After that, she navigated the series of rooms and corridors that eventually led to the council room where they held their meetings. She felt Byleth's eyes on her immediately and felt them linger as she dragged her gaze away from Byleth to instead greet Claude, who met her with his usual charming smile. They had only just rolled out the map on the long table and were leaning over it when a knock sounded on the door.

               "A messenger is here for Emperor Edelgard," the guard announced.

               "Send them in," Edelgard said. And then, a moment later when a familiar girl stepped forward, holding a folded slip of paper, "Ah thank you, Fleche."

               Fleche moved to where Edelgard stood next to Claude and Byleth and handed the message to her. She dropped into a bow and Edelgard's eyes were already on the message so she didn't see what happened next, only heard Fleche shout, "This is for my brother!". Her head shot up only to see the look of shock on Claude's face, blood already soaking his shirt where a knife had buried itself beneath his ribs. "I will never forgive you!"

               Edelgard snagged the girl's arm and yanked her away. Byleth moved and—

#

Edelgard kept her tone perfectly and entirely even. "I'll keep that in mind," she told Dorothea even as her cheeks burned.

               After that, she navigated the series of room and corridors that eventually led to the council room where they held their meetings. She was nearly there when she saw Byleth appear from out of the room and head down the corridor with long strides. Edelgard kept moving towards her, watching as she pushed open the doors to one room, then another, and then a third before she stopped. Careful to keep her tread light, Edelgard followed, though she made sure to remain just out of sight. And then voices, the first Byleth's the second familiar, though it took her a moment to place as that of Fleche von Bergliez.

               "I know what you're planning," Byleth said. "Don't do it."

               "I don't know what you mean." Fleche's voice was as taut as a bowstring.

               "Revenge won't bring back your brother. All it will do is destroy Adrestia's only chance of being whole again."

               Edelgard's brow furrowed as she tried to figure out how Byleth could know about Fleche's connection to the imperial general who'd been killed in an attempt to retake Garreg Mach—and what Fleche was planning.

               This time Fleche's voice trembled. "You don't know… anything."

               "I lost my father to the people who've taken Edelgard's throne. I tried to take revenge on them and I almost destroyed myself doing it. Please, Fleche, don't make the same mistake."

               Edelgard felt something inside her give way. Jeralt. Another of her failings. Just as she'd failed to protect the people of Remire from Solon's experiments she hadn't learned of the plan to murder Jeralt until it was too late. Even back then, when the professor had shown so little emotion, it had been clear for everyone to see how deeply she'd felt his loss.

               "You were there when he died," Fleche said, voice shrill. "You're just as responsible!"

               Alarmed, Edelgard stepped into the room only to find Byleth grasping Fleche by both wrists. The girl's eyes were wild, her lips pulled back in a sneer.

               "Fleche," Edelgard said, drawing the girl's attention.

               Fleche's eye's widened as she turned. "Your Majesty."

               "I know you feel the loss of your brother deeply. He was a fine general but he died serving Adrestia. If anyone is to blame it's me for failing you all as emperor."

               "But, Your Majesty—"

               Edelgard gave her a hard look. "No. We have all suffered losses during this war. Revenge is a natural desire, but a selfish one. We must put all that aside and work with the Alliance now to restore Adrestia."

               "But… it's… not fair." Fleche dropped to the floor, tears streaming down her face. Byleth let her wrists slips out of her grasp, but she quickly leaned down and grabbed a knife that had been tucked into Fleche's belt, hidden beneath her shirt.

               "No," Edelgard said softly. "It isn't." She'd learned that lesson long ago. The world was not fair. Suffering often came to those who'd done nothing to deserve it and the goddess and her saints were deaf to their prayers.

               Byleth tucked the knife into her belt and moved close to Edelgard to whisper, "I'd like to keep this quiet."

               "Agreed. I'll have someone take her into their care. You can be certain this won't happen again."

               Byleth nodded and stayed with Fleche while Edelgard made arrangements. They were very late for their meeting with Claude.

#

It was late to the evening and Byleth had only just returned to her room when there was a knock on the door. "Come in," she said without looking up from the tactical manual she'd been leafing through. She was fully expecting it to be Claude here to use her as a strategic sounding board for his latest scheme, but the tread was too light to be his. Instead, when she did glance towards the door, it was the emperor of Adrestia standing there. "Edelgard."

               "Hello, Professor," she said, shutting the door behind her. Her eyes slid across the room, taking in the desk, the table and chairs, the large bed in the corner.

               Byleth grimaced. "I think they gave me the largest room next to Claude's. Hopefully Lorenz never gets wind of it or I won't ever hear the end of it."

               "You are Rhea's successor now," Edelgard pointed out.

               "As everyone is eager to remind me." She set the book down on the desk and waved Edelgard towards the chairs. "Please make yourself comfortable." Edelgard looked distinctly uncomfortable but she sat down. "I could ask for some tea," Byleth suggested.

               Edelgard shook her head. "Please don't trouble yourself, Professor. I'm afraid I've caused you enough trouble for one day as it is."

               Shaking her head, Byleth sat. "That wasn't your fault. I'm just glad we managed to avert a crisis."

               "Yes," Edelgard said softly. "Thanks to you."

               She could still remember the look of astonishment on Claude's face, the blood staining his clothes, her own horror that she'd failed to detect the attack in time. So she'd used the power Sothis had given her and turned back the minutes until before Fleche had entered the room. Of course she could've just stopped the attack a moment before it happened but if news got around that one of Edelgard's messengers had planned to assassinate Claude the tentative peace between them would be placed in jeopardy.

               "How did you know?" Edelgard asked.

               Byleth sighed. "That's… difficult to explain. A premonition I suppose you could say."

               "But you knew her name, and about her brother."

               "That's all I know," Byleth said.

               There was a brief moment when Edelgard simply stared at her and then, incredulous, "Were you bluffing?"

               "Improvising," Byleth corrected. "A critical skill in battle."

               Edelgard sniffed. "As I recall from your lectures." Her hands rested on the table and for several seconds she said nothing and Byleth let her eyes rest on Edelgard's fingers as they traced the grains of wood in the table's surface. "Her brother was Randolph von Bergliez, one of my generals who led the attempt to retake Garreg Mach and was killed there."

               Byleth jerked her eyes up to Edelgard's face. "Bergliez?"

               "Yes. They're relatives of Caspar's." During the pause that followed, Byleth tried to remember that general's face. Had she been the one to fight him? In the end, the result was the same, and as a commander of the battle she bore the responsibility of every life lost, both ally and enemy. It was a reality she'd long since accepted yet it was never pleasant to be reminded of the consequences. "Professor, I believe I… owe you an apology." Drawn from her grim thoughts, she looked up and found Edelgard's violet eyes trained on her. "I've been brusque with you of late even though you've been nothing but gracious and helpful to me and my people."

               Some tightness in Byleth's chest eased, like a knotted rope finally untangled. She had a sudden urge to reach for Edelgard's hand and only just managed to restrain it. "I'm sure it's been difficult for all of you."

               "That's an explanation, not an excuse," Edelgard replied, shaking her head. She looked pained as she went on. "You saved us from falling with everyone else at Fort Merceus and I don't wish you to think me ungrateful. But I… do not enjoy being at someone's else mercy—not even yours."

               This time Byleth did reach across the table to ever so gently touch Edelgard's wrist. "I don't want your gratitude, Edelgard. I want your help. As allies. As equals."

               "And that is… how you truly feel?"

               "Yes."

               "And what about Claude? I'm sure he's delighted to see Adrestia in disarray."

               Byleth winced. "I'm not sure I'd say delighted precisely."

               Hands folded on the table, Edelgard leaned forward. "But it's true that he sees the tactical value of a weakened Adrestia."

               "Of course he does," Byleth replied, leaning forward as well, but she peered at Edelgard with a raised eyebrow as she went on. "But truthfully, would you feel any differently if the Alliance were thrown into chaos?"

               There was the faintest trace of a smile on Edelgard's lips. "Perhaps not."

               "Claude is working in the interest of the Alliance. That's only to be expected." Of course she knew that it was not only the Alliance that Claude was concerned with; in fact she suspected the Alliance wasn't even his first priority. His desire to change Fódlan was rooted in his desire to change his homeland and the two were inextricably intertwined.

               "And whose interests are you advancing, Professor?"

               Byleth tilted her head and peered at Edelgard. "All of Fódlan's, I hope."

               "You say that with such sincerity I can hardly bring myself to doubt you."

               "Then don't," she said and placed her hand on the table palm up, offering it to Edelgard. For a long moment Edelgard stared at her outstretched hand as if asking what it offered. "We can rebuild Fódlan together. I'll work with you, Edelgard. I'll be your ally, just tell me what you need from me."

               And then, hesitating for a moment, Edelgard reached out and rested her hand in Byleth's.

               It was only a simple gesture, but Byleth clasped that hand in hers like it was a promise.

Chapter Text

No one looked very pleased to be there, Byleth thought as she glanced at the faces gathered around the council room table. Seteth was scowling across the table at Edelgard and Count Bergliez, who kept giving Judith the side eye while she sat drumming her fingers on the table as she waited for Claude to arrive. But as seemed more and more often the case, Byleth's gaze lingered on Edelgard, noting the grey smudges beneath her eyes and the tight lines around her mouth. The situation was weighing on her like a suit of armour in water, dragging her down to the bottom.

               Edelgard glanced up and caught Byleth watching, violet eyes meeting hers. Their gazes locked and Byleth searched those eyes for some sign that the tentative agreement between them still held. Allies, equals, she'd said. She only hoped Edelgard believed her, that she could learn to trust her. Without trust she didn't see how any of Claude's plans could work.

               They both looked away as Claude finally made his appearance, smiling and thanking everyone for waiting—as if they could have started the meeting without him. She knew this was his way of subtly asserting his authority. She sometimes tried to picture herself employing the technique. Certainly in battle patience was important and making your enemy wait could be of huge tactical value if it wore them down or put them in a disadvantageous position. But the idea of people waiting on her, not because they wanted her counsel but rather because they required her approval, made her uneasy. She was just as happy to have Claude carry the mantle of leadership in the political arena.

               "All right, everyone, I'll get straight to the point," Claude announced without sitting down. "We've received information that Cornelia's forces are on the march, headed southeast towards Daphnel territory. We can safely assume their target is Derdriu."

               "As I warned you," Edelgard said.

               Claude offered her his most charming smile. "Precisely. Which is why we've prepared a counter-offensive." He pointed to the map, his finger falling squarely in the centre of the Whitehorn Sea, which separated Riegan and Fraldarius territory. "We're going to sail to Fraldarius territory and march on Fhirdiad while the bulk of their forces are still moving towards Daphnel. We can take the capital before they even have a chance to strike at Alliance territory."

               Seteth's brow was deeply furrowed. "And how have you secured transport for such an expedition? I was unaware of Riegan commanding such a substantial fleet."

               "We don't," Claude said, "but I've pulled a few strings and managed to secure a merchant fleet that will carry our forces from Edmund territory directly to the Kingdom."

               Byleth ignored the gazes that flitted between her and Claude as if searching for an explanation. He'd told her this morning, before the meeting. He'd managed to secure the ships from his homeland. From Almyra. There would be questions once the others realized the merchant ships carrying the Alliance army came from an enemy nation, so he'd asked her to help him conceal the information for the time being. She couldn't disagree with his logic; they needed the ships and they needed the Alliance army to be willing to board them, so better to provide explanations later.

               "And what about that snake, Arundel?" Count Bergliez said. "His army is moving northward as we speak. They'll be on our doorstep in days."

               Claude nodded sagely. "That's why we'll have to split our forces. I'll be leading the army headed to the Kingdom. Teach here will be in charge of holding Myrddin."

               "I have to stay," Byleth explained before anyone could question them. "I'm the only one who can deal with Epimenides on equal footing." She turned her gaze to the emperor. "Edelgard, I think it makes the most sense for your forces to fight here as well."

               "I agree," Edelgard said with a curt nod.

               Seteth was still scowling, arms crossed over his chest. "And what do you propose to do thereafter? Reinstate Edelgard so she can continue her war on the Church?"

               Edelgard's gaze was like Sreng snow. "I suppose you would prefer to reinstate Rhea so she can continue to control the people of Fódlan with your false doctrines."

               "How dare you?" Seteth snapped, fists balled on the table. "Lady Rhea has done nothing but protect Fódlan while you have rained war upon it."

               Edelgard never flinched. "We both know that protection and control are two sides of the same coin."

               Claude leaned forward, palms pressed to the table's surface. "All of this is going to be a moot point if we don't stop Arundel's advance. Arundel is our common enemy now. Let's all stay focussed on that for that time being."

               Edelgard caught her eye. And even without words Byleth knew this was her cue. "Since Edelgard's army will be here holding Myrddin we can afford to split our forces," Byleth announced. "Catherine should go with Claude's army."

               "I expect she will not be pleased with this plan," Seteth said.

               Byleth kept her tone even, without inflection, calling up the memory of her former self, the Ashen Demon. "She doesn't need to be pleased. Her knowledge of the area may be an advantage and once we defeat Cornelia we'll need someone there who understands the political relationships in Faerghus." Edelgard had said she would need to rely on authority not simply loyalty and it seemed like that time had come. She turned to Seteth. "I'll want you and Alois here with me."

               "Very well," he said, though his eyes flitted to Edelgard once more and his expression remained dour.

               The rest of the meeting was spent divvying up their forces and sorting out logistics. After some hours, matters were settled to everyone's satisfaction and the meeting was finally called to conclusion. However, as people drifted towards the door Edelgard approached Byleth. "I was hoping we could review Myrddin's defences in more detail. Count Bergliez is eager to get our troops into position."

               Byleth opened her mouth to reply but before she could get a word out, Seteth was at her elbow. "Professor, I must speak with you as a matter of urgency," he announced. His eyes flicked to Edelgard and away, his expression stormy.

               Byleth's eyebrows arched slightly but then she turned to Edelgard. "Would this afternoon be acceptable? After lunch?"

               "Of course. We'll reconvene then."

               Her eyes followed Edelgard as she left, hoping that the tentative agreement they'd reached would hold through all the trials that were sure to come.

#

Seteth didn't even wait for Edelgard to be out of earshot before he launched into his tirade. She was only half a pace out the council room door when he lead with, "You cannot trust her. After everything she's done."

               "I'm aware of your reservations, Seteth." Byleth's voice was perfectly calm. It was the voice Edelgard remembered from the academy: cool, detached, giving the impression of someone slightly apart from it all. Not at all like the Byleth from last night, her candor, the warmth of her voice as she'd held out her hand.

               Just tell me what you need from me.

               If only the professor knew how those words filled her mind with wild thoughts. She needed Byleth on her side. By her side. She needed her at her disposal. Needed her arms wound tightly around her, her lips pressed against hers, her hands sliding over her body.

               It was embarrassing that even five years after the academy Byleth could have such an effect on her. She wondered sometimes how much of it was the result of their shared crest and how much was simply her own weakness.

               Thoughts of Byleth were still tumbling through her mind when she reached her quarters—only to find a letter had been slipped under the door. She bent to retrieve it, fully expecting it to be a threat from a disgruntled Alliance soldier, but when she turned it over and spotted the seal on it, her blood turned to ice. It was the seal of her mother's family, the seal of Arundel.

               For a minute she considered destroying the letter without opening it. After all, what could she expect from a snake besides poison? But turning away information—even such information as this—was foolish.

               She unsealed the letter.

               Arundel's script, jagged and angular, leaped across the page, his words as sharp as daggers.

My dear niece,

While your current situation is truly unfortunate, it is not unredeemable. You find yourself now in an advantageous position at Myrddin. You are very near something we want. Just as we have something I believe that you want. We should hardly waste such good fortune.

I'm sure your throne and your attendant can be restored to you. All we need in return is the Fell Star.

Your Uncle,

Volkhard von Arundel

               For some minutes she simply stared at the letter. Hubert would never forgive her if she put herself in Arundel's power again to save his life. But being reminded that he remained in Arundel's clutches was like reopening a fresh wound.

               She crumpled the letter, cursing Arundel under her breath. She knew what it was to be imprisoned, to be tortured, to wish for the sun's light amid unending darkness. And now Hubert was suffering that same fate—because of her, because of what he was to her—and it took all her will to set her feelings aside and focus on overcoming each setback as it came. She needed to hold Myrddin. She needed to convince Claude and the professor to continue to lend her their support. And she needed to retake Enbarr and her throne. She could not afford to let her thoughts linger on Hubert's fate while there was so much work to be done.

               And yet… a single life in exchange for her empire. How badly Thales and the others must want to destroy Byleth to make such an offer. She wondered what Hubert would think of Arundel's terms, what sardonic comment he would make about her own feelings on the matter.

               One life for an empire. For a new dawn.

               The letter soon found its way into the fire.

Chapter Text

"Stop looking so glum, Teach. It's not good for morale," Claude said as he haphazardly stuffed clothes into his travel pack.

               "Sorry," Byleth said, perched on a stool in the corner of his room. "It just makes me uneasy that I won't be there with all of you."

               "Hey you've trained us all yourself. Have a little confidence in your work."

               She tried to smile; she knew he was being glib to reassure her, but he couldn't know of the times she'd used Divine Pulse to alter the flow of battle in their favour or to avoid an ally's injuries. But now, when he and the others faced Cornelia's forces in the north, she wouldn't be there to protect them.

               He crossed the room to retrieve a comb and scissors and then tossed them into his pack. "Lysithea and Leonie even promised to keep an eye on you, so no slacking."

               She tilted her head and peered at him. "I never slack."

               He chuckled. "What about that five year nap you took?"

                "That wasn't voluntary," she said, grimacing. She tried to remind herself that Claude and her Deer had been fine on their own for five years. They could manage without her. She just needed to have faith in them and keep her mind on Myrddin. Their efforts would be wasted if she let the Great Bridge of Myrddin fall, and she didn't intend to let that happen.

               He added an extra scarf to his pack. "I've left instructions with the Round Table that if anything comes up while I'm away they should speak to you in my stead." She nodded, hoping it wouldn't come to that. Navigating Alliance politics wasn't high on her priority list during a siege. Setting down his bag, he turned to face her, grinning. "I know what you're thinking: 'I hope I don't have deal with those stuffy nobles.'"

               Her lips twitched. "I wouldn't have phrased it like that."

               He chuckled. "Of course not. You're too diplomatic for that. That's why I know you'll be able to handle things when you're Fódlan's leader."

               "You mean as Rhea's successor?"

               "I told you about that dream of mine, about how I want to tear down Fódlan's Locket? Well that isn't going to happen if we only change Fódlan. Someday I'm going to have to go back to Almyra and change things there too."

               Her heart—or what passed for a heart in that quiet place in her chest—sank. "You're… leaving?" All these months since she'd woken and the war had started, she'd taken comfort in having Claude by her side, to rely on, to plot strategy with, to help corral the Deer when they got overeager. If he returned to his homeland who could she count on? Seteth? He was a friend, but he was devoted to the Church of Seiros in a way she was not. Her other students were dear to her but she couldn't lean on them as equals. And Edelgard? If they were successful in defeating Thales, Edelgard would surely return to Enbarr.

               "Not right now," he said. And then, glancing down at his travel pack, "Well actually, I am leaving right now but I'm planning to come back. Don't worry, Teach, I won't leave you high and dry in the middle of a war." And they certainly were in the middle. Arundel's forces were on the march and would reach Myrddin within a day.

               A tiny smile made its way to her lips. "Good. I'd miss all of your scheming." He flashed a smile, a real one this time, and the simple fact of his letting down his guard, however momentary, made her want to tell him her own doubts. She'd been made a teacher, a general, and the Chruch's de facto leader all in quick succession. Until recently she'd never stopped to question it, but now… "Claude?"

               "Hm?"

               "I'm not sure I want to be Fódlan's leader," she said.

               A bark of laugher escaped him but when he looked at her the mirth never reached his eyes. "What makes you think any of this is about what we want?" He crossed the room then and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Look, Teach, I know there's a lot being put on your shoulders. Take it. All the power, all the influence they give you, take it. It's what's going to get us closer to changing Fódlan for the better." He gave her shoulder another squeeze before letting go and returning to his travel bag. "And whatever Edelgard is offering, take that too."

               She thought of Edelgard's hand in hers, of the intensity of her gaze when their eyes met. If only she were certain just what it was Edelgard was offering.

#

Torchlight flickered across the flagstones of Myrddin bridge and the sound of rushing water from below filled Byleth's ears. At this hour of the night, only the guards on patrol wandered the parapets and hovered near the metal lattice of the portcullis, one of two vertical gates separating them from the army outside. Byleth noted the guards' alertness. No one drooped against the wall or deigned to yawn. Everyone knew the Adrestian army outside would strike at first light and lay siege against Myrddin's gates. And Byleth knew better than anyone that those gates could be breached; she had breached them herself only a few months ago.

               Yet as she crossed the courtyard, she spotted another figure who was obviously not a guard. Edelgard was not attired in her usual emperor's regalia. Instead she worse only a pair of dark trousers and a crimson shirt, the Sword of Seiros scabbarded at her hip. Her hair was loose, cascading down her back like a white veil, and Byleth's eyes lingered. For a moment she was back in the academy's courtyard, walking on another such night. She remembered seeing Edelgard sometimes on those walks; she thought sometimes Edelgard had seen her too, but one or the other of them had always turned away, neither daring to ask the other what kept them up in the still hours of the night.

               This time when Edelgard turned and caught sight of her, Byleth closed the distance between them.

               "I see sleep has eluded you as well, Professor."

               Byleth nodded. "Yes. I'm concerned about the battle." The handful of hours of sleep Byleth had managed had been restless, her mind full of strategies for Myrddin's defence and a gnawing dread of what might happen when she faced Epimenides again. They knew so little about her—where she'd come from, what her aims were, what the true extent of her abilities was. With so little information it was difficult to plan.

               Edelgard regarded her for a long moment. "I would never have suspected that you worry before a battle. You project such an aura of calm."

               "So I'm told," Byleth said with a shrug. "The students found it comforting at least. But I admit Epimenides does worry me."

               "For good reason," Edelgard replied. "If we knew more about—"

               The distinctly mechanical sound of creaking metal shattered the night air. Byleth's gaze shot up to the gatehouse at the end of the bridge. Through the metal grille of the inner portcullis she could see through the corridor that led to the exterior gatehouse. It was meant to funnel attackers into a narrow space where archers could pick them off as they attempted to breach the second portcullis of the inner gatehouse. At the far end, she could see the first portcullis rising.

               Someone was opening the gate for the Adrestians.

               She and Edelgard exchanged a glance, alarm written on both their features before they broke into a run. "I'll secure the second gate," Byleth said as she raced towards the gatehouse steps. "You check the outer winch," she called over her shoulder. Yelling filled the air, the alarm being sounded to all of Myrddin, but if their enemies rushed through the gates while most of their forces were still in their beds, the bridge would be lost with barely a fight.

               She took the steps two at a time, mind churning. Could the guards manning the winch have been bribed? Or had their forces been infiltrated by someone working for Arundel? Her sword was in her hand as she reached the top of the stairway. The little room that housed the winch for the inner portcullis was just ahead but already she could hear the sound of the great metal wheel winding the chain that would raise the gate.

               Edelgard headed down the corridor towards the outer winch room while Byleth dashed around the corner and through the doorway to the inner room—and then froze. Blood pooled on the stone floor around the still forms of the two guards. Rapidly turning the handle of the winch was Epimenides herself.

               Epimenides's eyes flashed with triumph as she turned and saw Byleth there. "You're too late," she said as she gave the wheel a final turn. From below, Byleth could hear the roar of the invading army. While the Alliance forces had been sleeping, the Adrestians had been waiting.

               Sword drawn, Byleth charged forward but Epimenides only smiled and vanished.

               For a stunned moment Byleth tried to perform the mental calculation: how much time had passed since she'd woken, dressed, and wandered out onto the bridge and met Edelgard? How long had it taken Epimenides to murder the gatehouse guards and raise both gates? She reached for the strands of time twined just at the edge of her awareness, reached and tugged, and, for a moment, the shouting stopped and the blood on the stones became a dull grey. Everything was still and colourless, just as all her world had been when she'd been the Ashen Demon.

               She took a deep breath and yanked on the strands of time, using the full power of Divine Pulse. But she'd been asleep earlier and could only go back as far as the moment she'd woken in bed and decided to walk. She had only that span of time and no more.

               She released the strands of time and found herself back in her room, lying in bed.

               She slept in a shirt and trousers to always be prepared for emergencies, but the first time, she'd put on her jacket and her belt, and run a comb through her hair. This time she sprang up, pausing only to tug on her boots and grab her sword before running out into the hall. She tore through Myrddin's halls and over the bridge. Edelgard was already there, looking out over the darkness of the river. She spun at the sound of Byleth's frantic footfalls, hand on her hilt. "Profess—"

               "The gatehouse!" Byleth shouted, snagging Edelgard's arm and dragging her along. "Epimenides," she added by way of explanation.

               Edelgard fell into step behind her, racing up the guardhouse steps. Byleth glanced at the first winch room as she passed and saw the guards there, alive and upright, speaking in low tones. But as they neared the second winch room she heard a muffled thump and, a moment later, the grinding of the winch's wheel. She rounded the corner and both guards lay slumped on the floor, throats sliced open. Byleth launched herself at Epimenides before she could turn the winch any further. "You!" Epimenides snarled. She held out a hand and that strange glowing blade appeared out of thin air.

               Byleth launched herself at Epimenides, the Sword of the Creator grating against the surface of her foe's otherworldly blade. From the corner of her eye she could see Edelgard trying to get at the winch, but as they clashed, Epimenides was careful to keep her body in front of the winch's handle. Even though it was only partially raised, it would be enough for the Adrestians to begin pouring through and attacking the second gate.

               "Edelgard, go!" Byleth shouted. "I'll handle her."

               And then she focussed all her attention on Epimenides, her strikes rattling down Byleth's arms, the speed of them as startling as their force. Epimenides's lips curled in a sneer and her eyes glowed with an intensity of a wildfire. "Why must you always interfere?" she snarled.

               "What do you want?" Byleth countered, deflecting a strike and meeting it with one of her own.

               Epimenides parried and attacked. "We Agarthans are the proper rulers of this land. Not you and your monstrous kin."

               Byleth's arms shook as Epimenides's blade bore down on hers. "I don't know what you're talking about it."

               "Enough!" And with a grunt Epimenides shoved Byleth, sending her stumbling back. In the seconds it took her to recover, Epimenides drew her second sword and jammed it into the winch's mechanism, drawing from it a metallic shriek. Byleth raced forward but Epimenides warped away and was gone.

               One look at the winch told her it was beyond her power to repair so she took off towards the second winch room, fully expecting to find Epimenides there. But when she tore through the doorway to the second room the guards were alive and well and raised their weapons before they recognised her. "General Eisner! Emperor Edelgard told us to jam the mechanism and then someone warped in here and then disappeared again when they saw the winch was stuck."

               Byleth experienced a brief moment of pride at Edelgard's quick thinking. But if Epimenides knew her plan had failed, had she returned to her forces or…

               "Well done," she told the guards before she turned and raced to the guardhouse parapet and look down on the battle.

               The outer portcullis had been raised by two feet and soldiers had already begun slipping beneath the gap in expectation of the second gate being opened. They would soon realise their mistake when more archers arrived and began to pick them off through the arrow slits. But then her eyes fell to the bridge from which she could hear the ring of blades. The sword of Seiros flashed like moonlight in the darkness as Edelgard fended off Epimenides's rapid strikes. Epimenides disappeared and Edelgard spun, stumbling back just in time as the glowing sword slashed at her.

               Byleth tore down the guardhouse stairway, squeezing past archers who'd slung their quivers over their bedclothes when the alarm was raised. She finally reached the bottom of the stair in time to see Edelgard batter Epimenides's defences. Epimenides staggered. Edelgard swung. For an instant Byleth was certain Edelgard had her, but at the last moment Epimenides recovered and warped away. She appeared behind Edelgard who managed to leap back as the glowing blade came within hair's breadth of her unarmoured throat.

               Epimenides stopped as she saw Byleth. For a moment she glowered at her—and then she was gone. All around them, imperial and Alliance soldiers alike were streaming to the defences but Byleth couldn't take her eyes from Edelgard, sweat dotting her brow, her breath coming quickly, her hair flying wildly around her shoulders. "I'm fine," Edelgard said before Byleth could ask. But when Byleth reached out to brush back her hair, she could see a thin line of crimson on Edelgard's throat.

               And though it was only a few drops of blood, it chilled Byleth to her core.

Chapter Text

"What about something to prevent warp spells?" Count Bergliez suggested. "I know of such things being employed in parts of the palace in Enbarr."

               All eyes turned to Edelgard. She'd washed the blood and grime from her face and changed her clothes before the meeting, but fatigue was etched into her features like dark ink. "Yes, we do have wards that can impede warp spells within the palace's living quarters. Otherwise it would be a simple matter for assassins to do their work."

               Lysithea had propped her head on her fist in that way she always did when considering a dilemma. "The problem is that we don't know for certain that what Epimenides uses is warp magic even if its effects are similar." She raised a hand before anyone could object. "I'm not saying we shouldn't try to block her, only pointing out that we lack information about the nature of her abilities."

               They'd managed to patch up the damaged winch and get the outer portcullis back down—just in time for the enemy to raise siege ladders and attempt to scale the guardhouse. The rebel Adrestians alongside the Alliance army had spent the daylight hours repelling troops who'd poured over the parapets while archers had showered those below with storms of arrows. The losses they'd taken had been due almost entirely to Epimenides who'd warped onto the walls over and over slaughtering the defenders there. Byleth and Edelgard had positioned themselves at opposite corners of the defences and rushed this way and that to confront the enemy general. Byleth had lost count of the number of times they'd clashed that day, the number of times she'd used Divine Pulse to anticipate Epimenides's attacks, and she was weary down to her bones.

               "What we do know," Lysithea continued, "is that she appears to have the ability to warp at distance to any location within her line of sight or that she's been to before."

               Byleth's brow furrowed. "But she was able to warp directly into the winch rooms. That wouldn't be in her line of sight."

               "Perhaps," Edelgard suggested, "she scouted the location on a previous occasion without our knowledge."

               That earned a grimace all around. That Epimenides might have appeared within their defences without being detected was just as unsettling as the notion that she could warp past her line of sight.

               The discussion continued for another quarter of an hour until they settled on a plan to improve Myrddin's defences. As they filed out of the council room, Byleth had hoped to pull Edelgard aside for a word, but halted when someone called out to her.

               "Hey, Professor, got a minute?"

               Byleth's eyes flicked over to Edelgard in time to see her glance curiously in her direction before going on her way. It would have to wait. She turned her attention instead to Leonie. "Of course. What can I do for you?"

               "Just something I noticed today." Leonie fidgeted for moment with a tear in her glove. "I don't know if it means anything but… well… I got a good look at the enemy general today. Epimenides?"

               Byleth nodded for her to go on.

               "I know it sounds crazy but she looks just like a mercenary who was working with us when we first took Myrddin back—minus all the glowing of course."

               "How sure are you?"

               Leonie shrugged. "They look the same to me but I guess she could just have one of those faces?" Byleth raised an eyebrow. "Okay maybe not but I just don't know what to make of it."

               "What was her name?" Byleth asked.

               Leonie replied with a shake of her head. "I don't know. I only spoke to her a couple of times. She was with Captain Berling's Mercenaries and she sounded like a normal person. Not like—" She waved her hands vaguely.

               "An evil enemy general in disguise?" Byleth suggested.

               "Exactly. And she wasn't new either. She'd been with Berling for years."

               Was it possible that this person—whoever she was before becoming Epimenides—could have been another victim of Arundel's experiments? Like Lysithea? Like the students at the academy turned into demonic beasts and the people of Remire? Like Edelgard?

               "Thank you for this, Leonie," Byleth said finally. "I don't know what it means, but I'll see what I can find out." And then, with a smile, "Get some rest. You've earned it."

               Leonie huffed. "You get some rest. You look like you're about to keel over. Captain Jeralt would never forgive me if I let you kill yourself from sheer exhaustion. Come on," she said, grabbing Byleth's arm and dragging her along. "And you know what else is going to kill you?"

               Byleth tilted her head and peered at Leonie even as she let her lead the way through the silent corridors. "What?"

               "Edelgard. Don't go counting on her. She's not going to watch your back, Professor, she's going to stab it."

               Byleth made a noncommittal sound, a little "Hmm," to satisfy Leonie without trying to explain the tentative partnership she'd struck up with Edelgard, without trying to explain her own feelings, the strange pull she felt, these things she could hardly explain even to herself. Leonie would only say she was going soft if she was letting a pair of pretty eyes lead her astray and what would Jeralt say about that. But as Leonie dragged her down the corridor all the way to her room, Byleth wondered what her father really would say, if he could understand the desire to trust someone who had already betrayed them, someone who had a just cause but whose methods had caused immense suffering. Would he understand or would he, too, advise scepticism and distrust?

               Leonie didn't loosen her grip on Byleth's arm until they'd reached the door to Byleth's room and Byleth promised she'd get some sleep.

               She did try to sleep, but always, dancing behind her eyelids, there was the flashing glow of Epimenides's blade and the crimson-bright blood on Edelgard's throat.

#

It was on the night of the fifth day of fighting that Edelgard climbed the steps to the guardhouse, made her way to the small storage room just behind the outer winch room, and threw open the door. Byleth's eyes sprang open immediately, her hand tightening around her sword hilt before relaxing again when she saw Edelgard. The professor was tucked into a space between a pair of barrels, her back against the stone wall, the Sword of the Creator resting across her lap. She looked up blearily at Edelgard.

               Edelgard crossed her arms and gave her a hard look. "Petra told me she'd heard rumours that you were sleeping in the guard tower. I told her that was ridiculous."

               "I needed to be closer in case Epimenides tries anything."

               "But she hasn't since the initial attack," Edelgard said.

               Byleth grimaced. "She did, two nights ago."

               "And you didn't tell us."

               Byleth shifted in place, setting down her sword and pulling up her knees. "There wasn't any point. She saw the winches were locked and saw me and disappeared again."

               Edelgard gestured at the nook Byleth occupied. "You won't be getting any sleep like this."

               "I've slept in worse places when I was a mercenary." And then, her gaze growing momentarily distant, "And I wasn't getting much sleep in my room anyway."

               Edelgard's disapproval melted away. Instead, she swept the folds of her dress around her and squeezed herself into the spot between Byleth and the barrels. There was only just enough space and she found herself—not unpleasantly—tucked close against Byleth's side. Her pulse stuttered when the professor's fingers reached for her collar and gently tugged it away from her throat revealing the bandage there.

               "It's still bleeding, isn't it?" Byleth asked, her eyes fixed on the bandage.

               Edelgard waved her hand. "It's nothing."

               "It's a tiny cut. It should have healed by now." Before Edelgard could make an excuse about her having reopened the cut during the fighting, Byleth tugged up the hem of her shirt, exposing her ribs, and Edelgard was rendered mute. Her eyes lingered on the skin she'd touched weeks earlier and the pair of parallel scars, one narrow and pale, the other an angry pink ridge, that were what remained of Byleth's wound.

               Byleth fingered the second, angry-looking scar. "This cut didn't stop bleeding until I'd seen a healer and even then it was slower to heal than the other one."

               Edelgard's fingers seemed to move of their own accord, reaching towards Byleth's scars. She stopped them just before they could glance across Byleth's ribs. "May I?" she asked, forcing her eyes up to meet Byleth's. Byleth nodded and Edelgard paused to peel off her glove before allowing her fingers to travel the length of that scar. It felt oddly warm and slightly rough beneath the pads of her fingers. "You believe it has something to do with that strange sword Epimenides wields."

               "Yes." Byleth spoke soft softly, her breath whispering against Edelgard's cheek. "I remember, after… after Jeralt was killed, Manuella told me that the blade that struck him down wasn't a normal blade."

               "No, it wouldn't have been." Edelgard said. A pang of regret pierced her. Jeralt's death had been so unnecessary—another one of Solon's plans that he'd concealed from her. Another failing on her part. She drew her hand away from Byleth's side. "Thales's mages are capable of crafting weapons with unusual properties. When they realized I wouldn't be able to wield the Sword of the Creator there was discussion of creating a weapon that would resonate with my crest. Though it came to nothing once we took Garreg Mach and I acquired the Sword of Seiros."

               Byleth made a humming sound as she considered the information, but then finally she looked up and tapped Edelgard's collar again. "Can I try to heal it?"

               "You?" Edelgard said, surprised.

               "I could try. It would save you from having to explain to anyone else."

               The awkwardness of asking anyone, even Dorothea, to heal such a small cut was enough to make Edelgard agree. "I forget sometimes that you dabbled in Faith magic at the academy. Very well, Professor," she said, undoing the clasp that held her collar tightly closed around her throat. "Go ahead."

               Edelgard held very still as Byleth unwound the bandage wrapped around her throat, revealing the thin line of blood that had oozed into the linen. Byleth held her palm over her throat, her fingers settling on Edelgard's jaw. Edelgard's breath caught. She could not recall the last time someone had touched her so softly, even just to heal her wounds.

               A faint glow seeped from Byleth's fingers. The Faith magic felt at first like an itch deep in her skin, but after a few seconds it morphed into a pleasant warmth that spread through her neck and jaw and lingered even after Byleth drew back. "How does that feel?" Byleth asked.

               Edelgard touched her throat where now she could feel only a slight ridge of raised skin, but no longer any trace of an open, oozing wound. "Much better. Thank you."

               "Good. I need you in top form out there."

               "Of course, Professor."

               And then, softly. "Truly, Edelgard, I'm glad to have you fighting with us. You're the only other person who can match Epimenides's strength. It's a relief to have someone I can count on."

               She ignored the way those words summoned a flush to her cheeks, that sudden swell of pleasure at the notion of the professor counting on her. "I'm glad I'm able to be a reliable ally."

               A tiny smile curled Byleth's lips. "I like that much better than what we used to be."

               And Edelgard, feeling the warmth of the professor's body seeping into her side, remembering the touch of her fingers along her jaw, felt a trace of a smile on her own lips. "I do as well."

Chapter Text

As she made her way towards her quarters, Byleth rolled her aching shoulders, feeling the muscles up and down her arms protest with every movement. Even her strength and stamina had limits, it seemed, and Epimenides was pushing her to the very edge of them as the siege of Myrddin continued. She'd lost track of the number of times they'd clashed these past days. Epimenides would appear at will on the battlements or on the bridge itself, cutting deep into ranks their until Byleth turned back time and appeared to face her before she could launch her attack. Sometimes Edelgard was close enough to keep Epimenides engaged without Byleth's needing to intervene and it offered her some reprieve.

               Byleth was within sight of the hallway that led to her room when the sound of her name—or title rather—being called with some urgency stopped her in her tracks.

               "Professor! I must speak with you immediately." Seteth's features were stormy as he approached her with long strides. He looked as battleworn as she, his hair windswept from hours of harrying foes from the back of his wyvern, his face smudged with dirt and blood. At the academy, he'd always been crisply dressed, his appearance pristine, hair combed, beard neatly trimmed. How the war had changed that.

               She took a deep breath and banished any notion of rest from her mind. "What can I do for you, Seteth?"

               He waited until they were in one of the empty council chambers, the door shut behind them, before he spoke. "I've received alarming information from of our sentries. An intruder was spotted attempting to slip a letter beneath the door of Edelgard's quarters."

               "And were they caught?" Byleth asked.

               "No, but we were able to retrieve the letter. It is a message from Lord Arundel." He held it out to her. She took it but did not open it. "We should make preparations in expectation of Edelgard acting against us."

               "I don't think that's likely at the moment." Byleth was tempted to take a seat and at least let her limbs rest, but it would put her at a disadvantage with Seteth in this disagreement. Arguing with someone while sitting down was a sort of surrender.

               "She is clearly conspiring with Lord Arundel."

               "Or," Byleth said slowly, holding up the letter, "the letter's sender meant for us to find it as a means of sowing distrust between our two factions."

               Seteth stood with his arms crossed, his back stiff. "You know the treachery Edelgard is capable of. You've witnessed it."

               "But the situation has changed. For now we need to work with Edelgard. We can't hold Myrddin without her army's assistance."

               He gave her a long look which she met unflinchingly. Perhaps he was older, and perhaps he was wiser, but his faith was entirely in Rhea's goodness and Edelgard's corruption, whereas Byleth could see neither of those things as entirely true anymore. Rhea had done unspeakable things, just as Edelgard had aligned herself with forces whose methods were beyond contemptible, yet both had saved Byleth's life, both had, at times, shown her kindness. Byleth might be Rhea's successor, but she was not her follower, and she hoped Seteth could come to understand that.

               Finally his shoulders slumped ever so slightly and she knew she'd won for today. He sighed. "I will leave the matter in your hands. Goodnight, Professor."

               "Goodnight, Seteth. And thank you for bringing this to my attention."

               He nodded once and then turned to go, but he paused at the door and turned back to her once again. His voice was as full of fervency as the voices of the supplicants in the chapel had been all those years ago at the academy. "Your faith in Edelgard is misplaced. She will betray you."

               Byleth waited until he'd left and then tucked the letter into her jacket.

#

It was a dream that had woken Byleth. Nothing she could recall distinctly save that in it she and Edelgard had been crossing swords on the edge of an abyss, darker than the blackness that had greeted her when she'd opened her eyes. Sleep seemed unlikely after that.

               The humid air from the river wafted to her nostrils the moment she stepped out onto the bridge, the cool air pleasant against her skin. The river below was a dark serpent, snaking its way beneath the bridge, glinting occasionally as its rippling surface caught and reflected the light of moon and stars like jewels in its scaly hide. Her boots clacked hollowly against the stone walkway; at least in the darkness you couldn't see the blood that stained it.

               She'd already crossed to the south end of the bridge, offering encouraging nods to the guards on duty along the way, walked the parapets, and finally climbed back down again, when she spotted Edelgard on the opposite end of the bridge. Byleth began walking back the way she'd come. Edelgard kept moving towards her. They met in the centre of the bridge.

               "Another restless night, Professor?" Edelgard said. It was surreal to see her at night without her emperor's garb, her hair a cascade of silver in the moonlight. She looked younger, some of the harshness erased from her features, as if shedding her crown allowed her, for a few hours anyway, to shed some of her burdens.

               "I'm afraid so."

               "Well at least you're no longer sleeping in the guard tower's supply room."

               Byleth's lips quirked. "That is an improvement." Epimenides had had one more go at the winches, but once she'd seen they'd been secured and would take time to raise, she'd left hurriedly without even bothering to fight. After that Byleth had felt assured enough to return to sleeping in her own room. But now there were other things that kept her up. She supposed now was as good a time as any. She reached into her jacket and produced the letter Seteth had given her. "I have something that belongs to you."

               Edelgard's expression darkened as she took the letter. "You haven't called for my arrest yet," she said archly after a few moments of taut silence.

               "Seteth might have suggested something to that effect."

               "And you dissuaded him because you need my assistance to hold Myrrdin until Claude returns from the north."

               Byleth nodded along with her assessment and then added, "Also, because I think it's far too convenient that it happened to fall into our hands."

               Edelgard stared down at the letter, her thumb sliding back and forth over Arundel's wax seal. "It's still intact. You didn't read it."

               "I can guess what it says," Byleth replied with a shrug. "Probably something about your agreeing to sabotage our efforts at Myrddin in exchange for Hubert and your throne."

               "Not for Myrddin, Professor." Edelgard looked up then, finally meeting Byleth's eyes. "For you. Hubert and my throne, in exchange for you."

               Byleth tilted her head. "Me?"

               "Without you, Myrddin's defences would collapse. But more than that, I believe they want you—or rather whatever lies within you. But surely you knew that after our battle with Epimenides "

               I'll carve out your monstrous heart and put an end to the beast dwelling within.

She could still hear the venom in Epimenides's voice and she felt now, more than ever, the unease of having her greatest secret laid bare. Her hand rested over the still place in her chest where that monstrous heart was as silent as it had ever been. "I didn't realize how badly they wanted it—enough to trade an empire, just for me."

               "A tempting offer, as you can see."

               Byleth's lips curled. "It would be… if you could trust Arundel."

               That earned a faint huff from Edelgard, but her expression grew steely again when she spoke. "Even so, you are taking an immense risk by placing your trust in me."

               The sound of rushing water was ever-present here, just as risk was an eternal companion in war. She'd spent her life assessing, anticipating, and navigating it, just as any boatman learned to make his way on the river's currents. "I don't think you're eager to be under Arundel's thumb again. Your odds are better with me. I won't betray you. I won't leave you by the wayside."

               Something flickered across Edelgard's features. Finally she looked away and a tiny smile graced her lips. "I did say you were notorious for being able to earn anyone's goodwill."

               Byleth let out a long breath, a sudden lightness filling her as if she'd shrugged off a suit of plate mail. Edelgard held the letter out to her but Byleth only shook her head. Edelgard turned towards the river. She held the letter out over the stone railing of the bridge and released it, fluttering, into the darkness of the river below.

               For some minutes they remained like that, staring into the night and the darkly glittering Airmid River, the sound of the rushing water easing the silence between them. When Byleth did speak, it was softly, like it might be an unwelcome interruption. "Edelgard?"

               "Hm?"

               "If we're both afflicted with a tendency to wander late at night, why don't we make use of it? We should discuss your terms."

               "My terms?" Edelgard said cautiously as she looked up to study Byleth's features.

               "Your peace terms—assuming things go as we hope, and we're able to defeat Arundel and retake Adrestia. You've agreed to a non-aggression pact with the Alliance, but that's not the same as ending the war. We should discuss what you want and how I can use my influence with the Church to reach an arrangement."

               "You're proposing… unofficial negotiations?"

               "Something like that."

               For a beat Edelgard simply stared at her. "I… will need to give this some thought," she said finally. And then, looking up at Byleth, "But thank you, Professor."

               "Of course," Byleth said, searching Edelgard's face for some hint of what she was truly thinking. Edelgard's violet eyes met hers again and rested there and somehow that felt like answer enough.

               When Edelgard did finally look away, Byleth thought she detected a rosy glow to her cheeks. "I think I'll try to sleep again," Edelgard said. "Goodnight, Professor."

               She took a few paces away but stopped when Byleth called after her. "Edelgard? What is it that keeps you up at night?"

               She turned back to look at Byleth once more. Cast in moonlight and shadows, she seemed for an instant something otherworldly and the pull between them felt like a tangible thread Byleth might be able to pluck if she reached out into that silvery light. "Perhaps I'll tell you one day, Professor," she said, and then, once again, wished Byleth goodnight.

Chapter Text

"So if the Church's power weren't centralized," Byleth said, brow slightly furrowed as she followed the logic, "the other Churches would be free to reform doctrine as they see fit. You could appoint someone to the head of the Southern Church who would put forth the reforms you wanted and Claude could do the same with the Eastern Church."

                Edelgard nodded. "Precisely." Even in the dim starlight, Byleth thought she looked pleased. "The Central Church rules over the other branches. The feud with the Western Church was only the latest in a long history of sectarian disputes over the past centuries."

                Byleth grimaced. The suppression of the Western Church had been a messy, violent affair that had bled into the school year on several occasions. "And how would the Central Church go about ceding its authority?"

                Edelgard appeared to consider this for a moment. "An edict or decree I suppose. Though it would also require the dismantling of the administrative scaffolding that supports it." It sounded complicated and Byleth's silence must have said as much because Edelgard added, "You can see why annihilating the Church completely would have been simpler." Byleth quirked an eyebrow. Edelgard sighed. "Yes, Professor, I know. I shall have to content myself with piecemeal reforms."

                "Things will change, Edelgard. You and I and Claude will make certain of that." Yet even as she said it, she felt a flicker of—something. A pang of worry, she decided. For Claude and the Deer who were fighting far away from her, beyond the reach of her protection.

                "What is it, Professor?"

                Byleth turned her gaze to the Airmid as she had on every sleepless night. Its rushing water had become the backdrop to these nighttime negotiations with Edelgard. "It's been two weeks now," she said. "And I have no way to know what's going on in the north."

                "You're worried about Claude and the others," Edelgard said.

                Byleth nodded. "I've never been away from them before. Though they're well used to being apart from me by now thanks to my five year nap."

                "Five years is a great deal of time to lose. Do you regret it?"

                She leaned against the stone rail and, for a beat, let the roar of the water below fill her ears. "I didn't have a choice really, but I suppose I do wonder sometimes if things might have been different. If I'd been awake could I have found a way to avoid all this bloodshed?"

                Edelgard turned towards the river as well, looking westward as they often did, towards something far in the distance they couldn't see, perhaps Garreg Mach and a past they'd left behind, or some imagined future they'd never glimpsed. "The only way would have been to defeat me, Professor."

                "I refuse to believe that," Byleth said, shaking her head and turning to look at Edelgard. A breeze sent her long white hair dancing around her, and Byleth's eyes followed the path of her slender fingers as they rose to push the unruly locks behind her ear. Sometimes at night like this, she still thought of the warmth of Edelgard's fingers on her ribs, the gentleness of her hands as they'd bandaged her wound and, later, how she'd traced the line of the scar left behind. "There are other paths." And then, barely more than a whisper, "We've found one now, haven't we?" Her breath caught when Edelgard's eyes met hers with a softness she'd never seen before.

                "You are just the same as at the academy," she said with a little shake of her head. "You make it impossible to remain objective."

                Byleth tilted her head. "Do you need to remain objective?"

                "I can hardly be an adept negotiator if I allow myself to succumb to your charm, Professor."

                "You can use my name, you know. When we're alone like this." Byleth surprised herself by saying it. Even Claude still only called her Professor, or, more often Teach, but never Byleth. No one called her by name, not even those closest to her. Was it strange then that the thought of her name on Edelgard's lips felt much like the tingling warmth when she remembered the touch of her fingers?

                It was hard to tell in the dim light but she thought Edelgard's face might have been flushed. "As I said about your charm…"

                Dawn was fast approaching and soon they would need to don their armour and endure another day of siege, but Byleth always felt reluctant to end their talks. Standing in the darkness with Edelgard, Byleth felt, for the first time since waking from her long sleep, as if she had a clear view to the future.

                She was about to give in to the inevitable and suggest they part ways and prepare for the day, when a dark mass soared above them, blotting out the stars. A wyvern, surely. But rather than the normal, steady sound of wingbeats thumping the air, what greeted Byleth's ears was a frantic flapping. She grabbed Edelgard's arm and drew them both back against the stone railing a moment before the wyvern came careening out of the sky and skidded across the stone walkway. The rider was sent rolling out of the saddle even as the wyvern screeched, an arrow jutting from its shoulder, just above the leathery flap of its wing.

                "It's one of our scouts," Byleth announced even as she dashed forward. The rider was trying to sit up, but grimaced and clutched his side before he got very far. "Don't try to move," she said as she knelt next to him.

                "General Eisner," he managed, though he was breathing hard. "Demonic beasts. A dozen of them on the way."

                The words were like a chill wind.

                "What is it?"

                She looked up at Edelgard, her mind already racing. "The gate. They're going to use them to breach the gate."

#

The outer portcullis groaned beneath the weight of the demonic beast as the creature's forelegs collided with the metal grille. Spearmen charged forward, jabbing at the creature through the grille, struggling to pierce its hide. Byleth stabbed at it with the Sword of the Creator, driving the blade deep into the beast's underbelly and yanking it back. The demonic beast's snarls and shrieks mingled with the grating of metal twisting beneath is claws. From the parapets, archers and mages rained fire and arrows on the creature even as enemy forces attempted to scale the wall. This was the third demonic beast they'd fended off since dawn and Byleth was certain the outer portcullis wouldn't last much longer.

                Behind her, she could hear shouts and then Count Bergliez rallying his troops. She glanced down the passageway only to see Epimenides on the bridge proper, attacking their flank. For a moment she considered turning back time and racing there to arrive just as Epimenides appeared, but then she spotted a flash of crimson, and the silver glint of a wave-bladed sword. So, instead, she returned her attention to the gate, trusting Edelgard to guard her back.

                But no sooner had the third beast crumbled to dust than a fourth came charging at the gate. The metal groaned and crumpled inward. "Everyone get back!" Byleth shouted. "Back to the bridge!"

                She ushered her troops out of the passageway as the demonic beast wrenched and twisted the metal grille and pushed its way in. "Close the second gate!" she called and heard the message being relayed.

                But before all Byleth's troops could retreat to the bridge, Epimenides appeared in a flash, a sneer on her lips, her sword cutting a swathe through the retreating soldiers, filling the passageway with screams. Byleth reached for the threads of time. A tiny tug, a small adjustment, just enough for her to dash ahead and reach the spot Epimenides would appear a second before she did.

                When Epimenides materialised in the passageway, Byleth's sword was already crashing down on her. Epimenides just barely managed to raise her glowing sword in time for a sloppy block that left her stumbling. Byleth pressed her advantage, driving her back even as the demonic beast surged into the passageway between the two gates. Epimenides recovered quickly, her twin blades clashing against the Sword of the Creator with inhuman speed. Byleth met her strike for strike.

                "General Eisner!" someone called from behind her. Byleth parried and tried to disengage with her opponent, but there was no opening. Her speed, her strength, they were such an even match for her own, it took all her focus to keep pace.

                A roar like rolling thunder rebounded between the walls of the passageway as the demonic beast lurched towards them. "Close the gate!" Byleth shouted. "Close it now!"

                "But, General—"

                "Now!" she yelled again and launched herself at Epimenides before her enemy could warp away into the winch room again and try to stop them from closing the gate. She attacked with a flurry of quick strikes, making it impossible for Epimenides to find an opening to escape.

                The gate began grinding closed behind her. She just needed to keep Epimenides occupied for a few moments and then dash under the gate before it shut.

                She heard more than saw the demonic beast approaching, its claws scraping against the stone, a snarl pouring from its throat. Byleth gathered her strength and when Epimenides attacked, she shoved her away, into the beast's path. Epimenides cursed and warped out of the way just as Byleth threw herself against the wall. The demonic beast barrelled past her, crashing into the grille of the portcullis. She reached for the time's weft, ready to pull back its threads so she could move a little earlier and duck under the lowering gate, but before she could tug on those strands, something rushed towards her—the demonic beast's tail, she realized too late as it slammed her into the wall.

                Pain exploded through her skull. White spots danced before her eyes. Time was invisible to her now, too far away to touch. She couldn't see, couldn't move, could hardly keep the blackness from engulfing her.

                The familiar crackle of that strange warp spell pierced the fog of Byleth's thoughts. She reached on instinct, rolling away and jabbing upwards with her sword. Pain pierced her, a burning brand, searing her side. A scream. For a moment she thought it was her own but no, the voice was metallic and masculine and as her vision cleared she realized her wild strike had found its home. The Sword of the Creator had pierced Epimenides even as Epimenides's glowing sword had cut into Byleth's side. The glowing sword disappear as Epimenides stumbled back, sliding herself off the sword Byleth no longer had strength to hold up, hands pressing over the gushing wound. Words spurted from Epimenides like gouts of blood. "I need… to get this flesh… to Shambhala."

                That telltale crackle of the warp spell and Epimenides was gone. Byleth clutched her own wound. Blood pooled on the stone beneath her feet. Was it hers? Or her enemy's?

                Shouting drew her attention—beyond the gate and the demonic beast. "Open this gate immediately."

                "We can't do that. General Eisner—"

                "Is injured."

                "But the demonic beast—"

                "I will take care of the demonic beast."

                Byleth remained where she was, back pressed against the wall, one hand clutching her sword, the other her wound, and watched as the defenders jabbed their weapons and launched magic through the grille. The demonic beast reared back, roaring, and as it did, the gate was raised just enough for a figure in plate mail to duck beneath it and into the passageway.

                Edelgard.

                Byleth's breath, already ragged, caught at the sight of her, her armour spattered with dirt and blood, her gleaming sword slicing wildly at the demonic beast. Fierce determination was written in every feature, in the set of her jaw and unflinching stance, and in every swing of her sword. She gave no quarter, surrendered not a single step and forced the demonic beast backwards. Her bright blade drew dark blood from its hide and her strength fended off the wild swipes of its forelimbs as if they were little more than a spring breeze.

                Edelgard made quick work of the demonic beast and no sooner had it crumbled than she raced towards Byleth. A look of horror flashed across Edelgard's features as she saw the blood. "Byleth!"

                Her name. Her name on Edelgard's lips. Here, in this place. For a moment the pain of her wound and the chill creeping up her limbs vanished and all that remained was the sound of Edelgard calling her name.

                "Byleth," she said again and dropped down next to her, kneeling in the blood.

                "It's not all mine," Byleth croaked. That did not appear to reassure her.

                "Can you walk?"

                "I think so," Byleth said. Edelgard helped Byleth slip the Sword of the Creator back into her belt loop and then swung her arm over her shoulder and hoisted her up. Pain washed through Byleth like a riptide, stealing the air from her lungs. Her knees almost buckled. Edelgard's arm tightened around her waist and she half walked, half dragged her back under the gate. It thudded closed behind them before reinforcements could try to breach it.

                Edelgard was shouting for a healer even as she set her down against the guardhouse wall. "Edelgard." Byleth's voice was ragged but she tried again. "Edelgard." This time Edelgard turned to her, violet eyes fixing on her, like she was the centre of all the world. "Epimenides was badly hurt. They're without their general. You need to take a force out to harry them while they're in disarray."

                Edelgard's expression flickered between surprise and concern. "But you…"

                She reached out and found Edelgard's hand, squeezing tightly. "I'll be all right. Go."

                For a moment their gazes held, and the pain of her wound felt far away as she let herself fall into those violet eyes. Edelgard turned away and it thundered back, every breath like a new stab of Epimenides's blade. "Lysithea, good. The professor is wounded."

                "I've got her. Please move aside."

                Darkness swirled at the edges of her vision, but Byleth held on long enough to watch the emperor of Adrestia gather her forces and march out through the gate once more. As her thoughts began to slide away from her, she returned again and again to the memory of her name on Edelgard's lips.

Chapter Text

It was impossible not to see the worry etched into Seteth's features as he walked into the infirmary. "Professor, how are you feeling?"

                Byleth sat up a little straighter against the pile of pillows propping her up and set aside the supply and logistic reports she'd been reading. "Much better." She didn't mention that every time she moved, pain lanced her side and back. "I just need a few more treatments before I'm back on my feet."

                "I'm relieved to hear it. It would be terrible to lose you when you've only just returned to us."

                 "Thank you, Seteth," she said softly. His concern was real and she appreciated it, and yet… His disapproval of her dealings with Edelgard lingered between them like smoke hovering in the air long after a fire was extinguished. "I heard you and Edelgard were able to rout the enemy."

                His brow furrowed at Edelgard's name. "Yes. Without Epimenides, they were in chaos and quickly crumbled. Many of the imperial soldiers threw down their arms and fled or surrendered. The siege of Myrddin is over."

                Byleth nodded. She'd learned as much from Lysithea upon waking. It had been a relief but it had also set the gears in her mind turning. It would be wasteful not to sieze such an advantage. "I was thinking, we should—"

                "Hey, Professor. We heard you were allowed to have visitors."

                Byleth peered around Seteth to find Leonie and Lysithea in the doorway to her little infirmary room. "We can come back later if this isn't a good time," Lysithea offered.

                "No, it's fine," Byleth assured them. "In fact I wanted to—"

                They all turned at the sound of another voice. "Professor, I—Ah I see you already have guests." Byleth noted the slight shift in Edelgard's tone, its lightness evaporating as she realized she had an audience.

                "Come in," Byleth said. "I have something I wanted to discuss with everyone and since you're all here…"

                Seteth's gaze was icy as he watched Edelgard enter the room and make her way to the opposite side of Byleth's infirmary bed. Edelgard didn't spare him a single glance, nor one for Leonie who crossed her arms and scowled. Only Lysithea seemed unperturbed, opting to sit on the little stool by Byleth's bedside.

                Byleth took a moment to look to each of her companions before she spoke, making sure she had their attention. "Our information from the north is fragmentary at best, but we've reports that fighting has begun in Fhirdiad and that the force heading towards the Alliance has reversed course to reinforce the capital instead. I think then we can safely assume that Claude and the others will be many weeks in the Kingdom still." Nods and murmured agreements. "Epimenides was badly injured—worse than I was—and Thales's forces are in chaos. I think we should take advantage of that and press forward."

                "I don't have a head for strategy like you," Leonie said, fingers fidgeting with her gloves, "but that sounds really risky to me."

                "I agree," said Seteth. "We do not have sufficient numbers to properly defend Myrddin and go on the attack. If we should be routed again it would be disastrous for the Alliance."

                Byleth nodded. "That's why we need to thin out Thales's numbers as well." She turned then to Edelgard. "Not all the Adrestian territories have bowed to Thales. Some in the east and west are still loyal to you. If you can convince them to fight, Thales will have no choice but to divide his forces. It would leave Gronder open to us."

                Edelgard's lips thinned and she took a long moment to reply. "You ask a great deal, Professor."

                "Edelgard…" She couldn't help the way her voice softened when she spoke the emperor's name, how she sought Edelgard's eyes like her gaze was the whole world, and how her pulse thrummed when those violet eyes met hers. "We spoke once about leading with loyalty or with authority. I'm asking you now whether your allies will fight for you out of loyalty."

                A long, still pause followed and it seemed as if everyone might be holding their breath. Edelgard's gaze turned inward, her features shifting with concentration as if she were performing a complicated chess maneuver in her mind. When she finally spoke, her voice was steel once more. "Jeritza's loyalty is absolute and Hrym will fight without question. I believe Hevring will side with us as well. Ochs and Gerth can be convinced to fight if only out of self-interest; they know all too well what Thales is capable of."

                "Then we have a chance to draw them off. They'll be divided on three fronts. That will give us the chance to advance."

                Seteth stroked his beard but then gave a shake of his head. "There is a great deal of risk in this plan."

                "I know," Byleth said, "but if we want to end this war we have to retake Enbarr. This is our best opportunity to regain a foothold in Adrestia."

                Edelgard let out a long breath. "This will take some time to arrange."

                Lysithea gave a curt nod. "That should give the professor plenty of time to recover before we set out. In the meantime," she went on, turning to Byleth, "you'll need all the most up-to-date reports on our resources. I'll make sure to get those to you."

                "Thank you, Lysithea," she said with a smile.

                Discussion continued for several more minutes but finally Seteth and Edelgard agreed to hold a council meeting to iron out the rest of the details with their forces. Byleth thanked them each in turn and watched them all file out—except for Edelgard who lingered, much to the apparent annoyance of Leonie who cast a suspicious look over her shoulder as she left.

                When the room was finally empty save for the two of them, Edelgard seated herself on the little stool Lysithea had vacated.

                "Did you have more concerns about the plan?" Byleth asked.

                Edelgard sighed. "Many, but those aren't what I wish to discuss."

                "Oh?" Edelgard was once more in her imperial regalia, every inch the emperor, but the sight of her in battle remained imprinted in Byleth's memory: her armour spattered with blood and grime, strands of loose hair dancing around her face, her cool reserve gone, replaced by something ferocious and as scalding as embers. But most of all, Byleth remembered the sound of her voice calling out to her, the anguish of its tone as she'd seen the pooling blood.

                Edelgard checked quickly over her shoulder to make absolutely certain the door had been shut tightly. "Your wound, which of Epimenides's blades caused it?"

                Byleth flinched. She'd hoped no one would think to ask about that. After all, untold numbers of soldiers had been injured by Epimenides and no one had made the connection between the glowing blade and its detrimental effects on the healing process. Byleth dropped her eyes.

                "Professor?"

                She stared down at her hands, clasped in her lap. "The glowing one."

                "I was afraid of that. Are you in pain?"

                "I—"

                "Answer truthfully, Professor," Edelgard cut in before Byleth could reply with the platitudes she'd offered her friends.

                "Some," she said. "When I move. The healers will have to give me repeated treatments before the wound—or wounds rather—seal up for good." The sword had cut clean through her, coming out her back. If it weren't for the healing magic it would almost certainly have been a lethal blow.

                Edelgard nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "It will be some days before we set out from Myrddin. Even so…"

                "I should be all right by then. And I need to be there or Thales's forces will see it as a sign of weakness."

                "And so it would be," Edelgard said. "You are a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield."

                "So are you," Byleth said. And then, bowing her head for a moment, "Thank you for your help. I'm afraid I badly miscalculated during that last battle."

                Edelgard shook her head. "Think nothing of it. After all, if you were to fall in battle what would become of our negotiations?"

                Byleth's lips twitched into a tiny smile. "So you have a vested interest in my survival now?" A little spark of pleasure thrilled through her when she saw the answering smile on Edelgard's lips.

                "I suppose I do." And then, growing serious once more. "Truly, Professor, our aims have often clashed but I have never wished you harm."

                And on an impulse she couldn't quite explain, Byleth reached out and squeezed Edelgard's fingers. "I know. I realized that quite some time ago." And then, somehow, Edelgard's fingers were squeezing hers in return. Yet her expression remained troubled as she spoke, not quite meeting Byleth's eyes.

                "Everyone here seems to think you invincible, even after your five year disappearance."

                Byleth made a noncommittal sound. "I suppose."

                She gave Byleth a sharp look. "You've allowed everyone to see you this way. You downplay your injuries, your worries. You keep your own counsel."

                "What else can I do?" Byleth said with a shrug. "Everyone is counting on me. Everyone expects…" She trailed off, uncertain of how to put into words all that was asked of her. Her students expected her guidance while Claude expected her to be a beacon for their cause. Seteth expected a leader of the Church's forces—and perhaps of the Church itself. And Rhea—well Byleth had never quite been certain precisely what it was Rhea had expected of her.

                "I understand what it is to carry the weight of expectation." Edelgard's grip tightened around her fingers. "I envied your class at the academy, you know. All the time they spent with you in lessons, in training, at meals. The times you had tea with them. You all seemed so close." Edelgard's eyes darted up to hers and for a moment Byleth glimpsed the girl Edelgard had been all those years ago, the girl who still remained, hidden behind the mask of the emperor. "Yet I would still see you sometimes late at night walking the grounds alone. In spite of your closeness, you seemed strangely removed from everyone, and never more so than after the incident in the Sealed Forest when you were changed."

                Byleth let out a long, slow breath. She hadn't realized how perceptive Edelgard had been back at the academy. "I care about my students dearly and I want nothing more than to protect them but there are things I can't speak of."

                "What about Claude?" Edelgard asked, a tightness to her features as she spoke, a set to her shoulders that hadn't been there a moment before.

                Byleth wrinkled her nose. "Claude has a way of ferreting out secrets one way or another." Claude was the only person who knew about her unbeating heart—not because she'd told him, but because he'd insisted on reading Jeralt's diary. "I've been lucky to have him to rely on through all of this but…" Edelgard watched her expectantly and Byleth was surprised at how much she ached to finally speak the words aloud "But he won't always be there."

                She had never thought much of the future. At the academy she hadn't really thought about what she would do when her Deer graduated and a new school year began. It was Claude who'd talked of the future, of the change he wanted to bring to Fódlan. She'd simply assumed that they would walk that path and build that future together. But now… She'd lost her father and Sothis and soon Claude, too, would travel his own road, and the thought of carrying Fódlan on her shoulders alone hurt more than the wound in her side.

                Uncertainty flickered over Edelgard's features. "I admit that surprises me. I was given to understand that you and Claude were… very close." Byleth's brow furrowed but before she could ask for clarification, Edelgard went on. "To speak plainly, Professor, I was told you and Claude were… on intimate terms with one another."

                Blood rushed into Byleth's cheeks. "I—no. It's not like that." She was suddenly aware once again that she was still holding Edelgard's hand and of the sweat slicking her palm.

                She knew people made assumptions easily, especially outsiders—as Edelgard's informants surely would be. But it still felt alien to imagine Claude in those terms. She'd never gazed longingly into Claude's eyes or spoken softly to him under the stars. She'd never held his hand in hers, except perhaps to shake it. And besides all that, she strongly suspected his affections lay elsewhere as well.

                Edelgard's entire posture eased. "My apologies, Professor."

                "It's an easy assumption to make I suppose."

                "Yes, unfortunately. There are rumours about my liaisons with every man I've ever spoken to—and half the women as well."

                Byleth snorted. Of course there would be that sort of rumour given all the things people said about Edelgard.

                Edelgard waved her hand vaguely. "It's all nonsense of course. It's not as if I've had time for romance or—" She cleared her throat, her face suddenly scarlet. "Or anything of that nature."

                Byleth chuckled wryly. "I've been asleep for five years. I don't know when the rumourmongers think I've had time either."

                "Perhaps they believe Claude had you secreted away all that time," Edelgard suggested, earning a grimace from Byleth.

                "Rumours always seem to be far more… imaginative… than the truth."

                Edelgard's lips quirked. "They certainly do." She sighed then and tugged her hand free of Byleth's, sending a pang of regret crackling through Byleth's chest. "I should let you get some rest, Professor." She stood, pausing a moment to straighten out her skirts before turning to the door.

                "I expect I'll be stuck in the infirmary for several days," Byleth said. "Will you come visit me? So we can continue our negotiations," she added, as if the addendum could cover the eagerness so plain in her voice.

                One hand on the door latch, Edelgard paused and turned back to Byleth, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. "I will."

                "I'm glad." In spite of the ache in her side, Byleth found herself smiling. "Goodnight, Edelgard," she said softly.

                "Goodnight… Byleth," Edelgard said, and her cheeks were still very flushed as she turned once more and left.

Chapter Text

Count Bergliez knew his lands well; he had been right in anticipating where the Arundel's forces would intercept them on their march toward Gronder, and Byleth had used that knowledge to position her forces perfectly. But the weather was one thing no one could anticipate.

                Steel-grey clouds had rolled in just as the two armies had clashed. Within minutes a deluge of rain had pelted the combatants and the ground beneath them was churned into mud. Byleth had had to signal a messenger to order the cavalry to hold, lest their mounts be bogged down in the mire.

                The Sword of the Creator glowed orange, a beacon in the storm, drawing enemy forces to her. She extended the sword, whip-like, to strike at the enemy mages ahead, before they could launch a spell her way. She squinted into the driving rain to see the blade cut a swathe through their lines. The rain ran in rivulets down her face, streamed off her armour, the cold seeping into her bones. She'd fought through worse, but she could see the strain on her comrades' faces. Nearby, Petra was shivering even as she launched herself at the enemy and Caspar was sliding in mud as he pummeled his foe.

                Off in the distance, Byleth thought she could make out a flash of crimson and silver. Edelgard.

                Edelgard had kept her promise and visited Byleth through her convalescence and they'd continued their late-night negotiations as the army had begun its march from Myrddin. With Hrym, Ochs, and Hevring moving against Arundel thanks to Edelgard's entreaties and promises of quick action from her forces, it had been time to take the offensive, and Byleth knew she had to ride at the forefront alongside the emperor.

                Seteth had warned her that Edelgard had ice in her veins, yet there had been such warmth in her voice when she'd come to her before the battle. "Are you certain your wound has healed enough for you to take the field?" she'd asked, her eyes darting to the spot on Byleth's side where the glowing blade had skewered her.

                "I'm fine," Byleth assured. "The healers even removed the bandages," she added, pulling up her shirt to display the angry red gash that was all that remained of her wound.

                A flush crept up Edelgard's cheeks. "I'm relieved to hear that."

                Byleth's lips twitched. "Because of our negotiations."

                "Yes," Edelgard said quickly, bringing her eyes back up from Byleth's stomach to her face. "I wouldn't wish for them to be disrupted."

                Even in the chill rain, the memory of the tiny smile on Edelgard's lips filled Byleth with warmth and drove her forward through the storm. Somewhere on the other side of this battle was a future they were both building, night by night. And Byleth was certain it was a future worth fighting for.

                Soon the wind began to pick up, whipping the rain into her face, stinging her cheeks. She adjusted chilled fingers around the hilt of her sword and scanned the battlefield. Their plan had included a bank of archers to target the enemy's left flank, but now the wind was against them and their arrows dropped uselessly to the ground far short of the enemy ranks.

                Instead, the wind was in the enemy's favour, carrying their arrows higher and further—right into Seteth's detachment of wyverns. They'd been keeping well back of the archers but the change in the wind had caught them off guard, and Byleth watched a hail of arrows pelt the wyverns like jagged rain.

                The wind drowned the cries of soldiers and wyverns as they fell from the sky.

                Wyverns crashed into their ranks, falling on all sides. Screams that barely reached her ears before being snatched away by the wind. More arrows. More shattered bones and broken bodies. More screams.

                Byleth tugged on the strands of time, pulling back before the wyverns' fall, before the arrows' deadly flight, before the rising wind.

                Pain erupted on the left side of her body. She gritted her teeth and shot a flare of magic into the sky and prayed Seteth would see her sign. Chest heaving, she raised her sword and cut down the swordsman coming at her and the one that followed. When she had a moment to cast her eyes upwards again she saw the wyverns on the move. This time, when the wind rose, they were out of the archers' range. The slaughter avoided, she breathed a sigh of relief and paused to examine her torso.

                There, in the spot where Epimenides had wounded her, against the chill of her rain-soaked skin, she could feel the warm trickle of blood.

#

The rain continued long after Arundel's forces were routed, soaking their camp and hampering their efforts to carry the wounded to the infirmary tents as stretcher bearers slid and slogged through earth trampled into mud. It was hours before things were settled enough that Byleth could even think of returning to her tent to change out of her wet things and perhaps snatch an hour or two of sleep before she was needed again.

                She'd just finished changing into dry clothes and was sitting on her cot to towel off her hair when a voice called out from the other side of the tent flap—though not an unwelcome voice.

                "Byleth?" The sound of her name was enough to warm her chilled blood and soften the ache in her side and back.

                "Come in," she said. She smiled as Edelgard pushed back the tent flap and was about to make some comment about the weather being a little too wet for negotiations, but stopped herself when she saw the look on Edelgard's face.

                "You're still drenched," Edelgard said, noting her wet hair. Edelgard in contrast had changed into the simple trousers and shirt she often donned at night, along with a hooded cloak to banish the rain and wind.

                Byleth shook her head. "It doesn't bother me."

                "Well something is clearly bothering you," Edelgard said as she removed her damp cloak. "You've been pale and moving stiffly since the battle ended."

                For a split second Byleth thought of brushing off her concerns, saying she was fine, as she would have with anyone else. But finally she sighed. "It's nothing. The wound opened up again. I've had it seen to already." It still ached though, all through the left side of her belly and back.

                "Professor…" Edelgard began. She trailed off and finally, with a sigh, sat on the cot next to her. "Byleth. This wound of yours concerns me."

                Byleth shook her head. "I've been injured before and always recovered quickly."

                Edelgard's fingers brushed over her wrist and Byleth turned to meet her gaze. "But if Epimenides's blade has affected you in some unexpected way…"

                Unease swirled through her, knotting her insides. She still wasn't certain why the wound had reopened so suddenly. She began toweling off her hair; it was easier than looking Edelgard in the eye. "I'll do my best to be careful, but you know I can't stay off the front lines."

                Edelgard's voice was taut, her expression suddenly as ferocious as the bird of prey that graced Adrestia's banner. "Your survival is paramount to changing Fódlan's future. If Rhea—or even Seteth—retake control of the Church then nothing will change."

                She set down the towel and shifted to face Edelgard. "Am I just a means to an end then?"

                She saw the moment Edelgard's resolve faltered. The ferociousness of a moment before melted away and her features softened. "No, Professor. I know what it is to be treated as a tool," she said, dropping her gaze. And then, her cheeks flushing, "And I must admit I've… grown rather fond of you."

                She said it lightly but it brought a smile to Byleth's lips. "I'm glad to hear that," she said softly.

                Edelgard reached up and brushed a lock of still-damp hair from Byleth's face. Byleth caught that hand in hers, intertwining their fingers, and for a moment she stared into Edelgard's eyes, trying to be certain of what she saw there. Edelgard's eyes dipped; so did Byleth's, lingering on Edelgard's lips. They seemed to lean in to each at the same moment, drawn together like iron to a loadstone.

                She shifted a bit too quickly, teeth bumping against Edelgard's, and drew back to whisper an apology before trying again. This time when they moved, they fit together like a sword and sheathe, and the softness of those lips banished the lingering ache in her side. Byleth sank into Edelgard's warmth, letting the taste and the scent and the feel of her wash everything else away. Edelgard's hand curled around the nape of her neck, drawing her closer. Byleth's hands clutched her waist, pulling her in so they were pressed close—close but never quite close enough. She lost herself to lips and hands and soft skin and the feeling of finally, finally settling into place.

                When Edelgard broke away gasping, it was like surfacing from a dream. She remained in the circle of Byleth's arms, so close they breathed the same air. Her cheeks were a violent scarlet and her lips swollen. "This is almost certainly… a very unwise idea," Edelgard said breathlessly.

                A huff of laughter escaped Byleth. "I hear the same from my advisors. Seteth is adamant that I shouldn’t put my trust in you."

                A wistful smile touched Edelgard's lips even as she reached up and brushed back a wet strand of Byleth's hair. "Hubert would say the same were he here."

                "Because I'm a monster?" Byleth asked, one eyebrow quirked.

                "Yes," Edelgard said softly, fingers trailing down Byleth's cheek. "Much as your advisors say about me."

                "In that case it sounds like we're well suited to one another."

                Edelgard's lips twitched into a tiny smile. "I suppose we are."

                They disentangled themselves from each other and Edelgard, still looking quite flushed, bade her goodnight, and only then did Byleth finally lie down to rest. The rain began again, pelting the roof of her tent, but Byleth slept easy, cocooned in the memory of Edelgard's warmth and the certainty that she was finally on the path she'd always been meant to take.

Chapter Text

It was utterly unfair, Edelgard thought, as she forced herself to stare at the map laid out on the council table. How could she be expected to concentrate when Byleth kept looking at her across the table, the tip of her tongue darting out to lick her lips every time that she did? If it had been anyone else, Edelgard might have suspected her of trying to distract her. They were in the midst of a campaign; she needed to remain focussed on her goals. Yet her mind kept returning to Byleth's arms, wrapped tightly around her, the heat of her lips, and that deep and abiding sense of rightness she'd felt in that moment when nothing remained between them, not even air.

                If only Hubert were here to sardonically remind her that she was an emperor and not a silly schoolgirl.

                She'd so desperately yearned for the professor's affection at the academy when she'd had no chance of securing it. There was something ironic about the fact that she'd won it now, when she'd lost everything else—her throne, her closest friend and advisor, and any hope of changing Fódlan in the way she'd envisioned.

                "The bulk of their forces remain in retreat," Count Bergliez said, tracing his finger along the map. "What remains is their rearguard. Here and here."

                "Where do you believe they'll regroup?" Byleth asked as she studied the map.

                Bergliez shook his head. "Most of my territory is flat farmland. Good for open confrontation. But we relied on Fort Merceus to hold it. Without that they'll surely retreat back to Hresvelg territory."

                "It seems they were rash in destroying it," Edelgard said.

                Byleth looked up, her gaze snaring Edelgard's. "Overconfident. They were so certain you would retreat there that they didn't wait for confirmation."

                Because of you. Edelgard didn't say it aloud, only letting her eyes rest in Byleth's a moment longer than she knew she ought to. It was Byleth who had saved her—saved all of them. It was strange how the resentment that had welled up in her those first weeks had so easily given way to something else. But then Byleth had always excelled at bringing people around, and Edelgard was not immune. No, she thought, as she forced herself to look away from those striking green eyes and those soft, warm lips, she was very far from immune.

                Once plans had been settled, she returned to her tent, hoping to rest before tomorrow's long march, but when she arrived, her guards informed her that something had been left for her. Their usually stoic expressions were tight and unhappy. "Another of Arundel's messengers?" she asked.

                "We suspect so, Your Majesty."

                "Very well," she said and braced herself. They'd left the package on the small table at which she usually read her reports in the morning or late at night. Her heart was in her throat the moment she laid eyes on it—not a letter this time, but a small, wooden box. Even before she opened it, she knew she wouldn't like the contents, but she took a deep breath and forced herself to open the clasp, unseal the box, and inspect its contents.

                A long, pale ring finger, cleanly severed above the knuckle.

                She shut the box immediately, cold fury slicing through her like the point of a blade. She'd known what Arundel would do to Hubert. She'd known, but to see the evidence of it, to see his suffering written in blood and flesh and delivered so neatly to her…

                Bile rose in her throat as she picked up the box and carried it back out to her guards. "Please dispose of this. I suggest burning it."

                "Yes, Your Majesty."

                And then she returned to the little table, retrieved a blank sheet of paper, and began a letter to her uncle.

#

It was impossible for Byleth to deny how her pulse leapt when she saw Edelgard, her silver hair unmistakable even from across camp, her scarlet cloak billowing behind her in the rising wind. Most of Byleth's day had been spent staring at maps during strategy meetings, taking in reports and adjusting plans for the coming battles. They would meet Arundel's forces again tomorrow if their scouts were correct. She should be sleeping, should have her mind on the war, but that pull towards Edelgard that she'd once found so unsettling was now impossible to ignore.

                A few long strides was all it took to reach her. "Edelgard," she said simply, a smile creeping onto her face.

                A flush crept up Edelgard's cheeks. "Byleth."

                Her name, just the sound of her name, was all it took to make her giddy, but she forced herself to at least appear calm as she fell into step beside Edelgard. "I think last time we were talking about how we might open up trade with foreign nations. I had some ideas about that."

                A tiny smile formed on Edelgard's lips. "Very well then. What were you thinking?"

                They walked close, arms brushing as they discussed trade and how Claude might use it as a first step toward cooperation between nations. Yet all through their discussions there remained an undercurrent of tension, an unspoken question that neither dared ask just yet.

                Edelgard tugged her cloak more closely around her as the wind gusted past them. "It looks like the weather's turning," Byleth noted, glancing up at the sky where clouds veiled every hint of starlight. "Maybe we should call it a night."

                Edelgard shook her head. "I don't think I can sleep."

                Byleth was on the verge of asking if something was troubling her when the clouds opened up with a deluge of fat raindrops. She grabbed Edelgard's wrist and tugged her into the nearest storage tent before they could get soaked. They found themselves among bags of oats for horses and barrels of pickled herring for wyverns but otherwise alone and dry. "We can wait it out here if you don't—"

                But then Edelgard's lips were on hers, hands tugging her close with undisguised impatience. Byleth sighed against her lips, relief washing through her. All day she'd been too afraid to ask if Edelgard had had second thoughts, but her hands tangled in Byleth's hair, the warmth of her mouth, the insistent way she pulled Byleth closer: this was answer enough.

                She let her hands wind around Edelgard's waist, revelling in this new feeling. She'd never felt the need for physical closeness. The Ashen Demon had been an island, floating in still, grey waters. But now, now she was the sea and all its tumult, she was the waves crashing on the beach, reaching upward to embrace the land. And yet Byleth felt as if she were the one who might drown in the heat of that embrace.

                Edelgard's shirt had come untucked, and when Byleth's thumb brushed against bare skin Edelgard flinched. Byleth drew back. "I'm sorry."

                "It's not that," Edelgard said, seizing Byleth's hand, keeping her close. "I have… scars."

                Byleth quirked an eyebrow. "I should think we all do by now."

                "The ones I have are not from battle," Edelgard said, shaking her head. "They're… surgical in nature." Byleth went very still. "Did Lysithea tell you about the blood reconstruction surgery?"

                "Only that it was painful and that no one else survived it."

                Still holding Byleth's hand, Edelgard guided it beneath her shirt, pressing Byleth's palm over a long, raised line of flesh, and then moving it to another and another across her belly and torso. All the while, she held Byleth's gaze as fiercely as her hand. "My siblings were all subjected to the process. I alone survived."

                Byleth hardly recognised her own voice, low and taut, almost a growl. "They did this to you. Thales and his lot."

                "Yes. I was little more than a child and I was transformed into the Flame Emperor."

                "Your second crest is the Crest of Flames, isn't it? We have the same crest." She raised her free hand, to gently brush back the wayward strands of Edelgard's silver hair. "That's what I felt when we first met."

                Edelgard nodded. "I sensed it as well that first time at Remire. You had a strange aura about you. When we learned about your crest later that year, it all became clear to me. When did you suspect?"

                "Not until recently. Lysithea was telling me about how people with the same crest tend to share an affinity."

                "Affinity," Edelgard repeated and Byleth was suddenly conscious of how her hand was still pressed against the bare expanse of Edelgard's skin.

                Byleth reached out to cup her cheek. "I'm not sure that entirely covers it," she whispered, eyes locked on Edelgard's.

                "No," Edelgard murmured. "Perhaps not."

                And then Edelgard was in her arms again, Byleth's fingertips still pressed to her skin. Byleth let her hands roam, brushing across those scars as if she could erase them with her touch, trailing up her spine until Edelgard sighed against her lips and all but melted into her. If this was the only comfort she could offer Edelgard, then she would give it, give everything if it could offer a moment's respite from all the terrors that kept her up in the long hours of the night.

                It was some time before they realized that it had stopped raining.

#

After so much marching, their army was accustomed to making camp each night and did so with brisk efficiency, Byleth noted, even on days like this one when everyone was worn out from the latest skirmish. And though nothing they'd faced of late could be called anything more than a skirmish, the constant assaults from above or ambushes along their flanks were wearying.

                But as darkness fell and soldiers settled down to sleep, Byleth looked, always, for Edelgard. There were many days when they never had a moment to themselves, let alone a chance to see each other privately. When they did meet in the late hours, there sometimes remained too many watchful eyes and all they could do was talk, perhaps at most allow their fingers to brush as they walked together. It certainly didn't need to be said aloud that no one could know that there was anything more between them. Being discovered would risk compromising their authority, Byleth's especially, she suspected. It was unwise of them. It was.

                And yet Byleth looked for Edelgard all the same.

                Tonight she'd only just checked one of the spots she might expect to find her and was about to move on to another likely part of camp when shouts of alarm filled the air. She was already racing in their direction when the smell of smoke reached her nostrils.

                It took her only a minute to reach the storage tents but by the time she did they were already engulfed, flames lapping at the sky with scarlet and gold exuberance. Mages had been called to tame the raging fire while regular soldiers formed into a water line.

                Byleth snagged the arm of a passing soldier. "What happened?"

                "Wyvern riders. They shot flaming arrows at the camp."

                "Our patrols didn't spot them?"

                The soldier pointed to a slain pegasus and rider only a few feet away. "Not in time, General."

                She thanked the soldier and turned her attention to the fire. They'd have it put out before it spread to most of the camp but the supplies in the tents would be useless. They kept their supplies covered at all times to prevent this sort of thing so that the enemy would not be able to scout what supplies they had nor determine where they were kept, but they'd been lucky tonight. The loss would set them back weeks as they were forced to acquire extra foodstuffs for soldiers and beasts alike. They couldn't afford that sort of delay.

                Amid the smoke and the yells, Byleth took a long breath and imagined a different outcome, the timing, the actions required to avert this. And once she'd performed that mental calculus and formed the plan in her mind, she reached for the tapestry of time's weave; she tugged on the loose thread of the present and unwound that tapestry.

                The world stilled around her. The flames became the same uniform grey as the smoke. Byleth lingered in that silence for a moment before tugging time back to regain the minutes she'd spent looking for Edelgard.

                Time snapped back into motion and with it came a searing white pain in her side. She ignored it, tearing through camp towards the area she knew would soon be under attack. She used her magic to send a flare up into the air to signal the airborne patrols circling the camp to look to the north, while also calling the night guard to her.

                Soon she could hear the sounds of an aerial battle, even if she couldn’t see it. Neither wyverns nor pegasus were adept at seeing in the dark but a gibbous moon hung high in the sky tonight making the flyers visible, at least to each other. A handful of flaming arrows made their way down to the camp but she and the guards managed to stomp the flames out before they could do any damage.

                The wyverns soon retreated, disappearing into the night, though half the camp had been roused. Finally able to take a breath, Byleth reached under the hem of her shirt to touch her side in the place where Epimenides had wounded her. Her fingers came back wet. Now instead of smoke, she smelled the coppery scent of blood. Her own.

                Across the rows of tents Byleth thought she spotted the silver gleam of Edelgard's hair. She pressed her hand against the wound and slunk into the shadows before Edelgard could see her.

Chapter Text

Byleth pointed to a spot on the map and all eyes followed. "Leonie, take your troops to this area. Our flyers report that there's dense brush. If the enemy is hidden there, flush them out with your archers."

               "Right. You can count on me."

               "And be careful," Byleth added. She wouldn't be there to help if Leonie's troops were overwhelmed, and even her ability to use Divine Pulse was in doubt. The wound had opened again the last time she'd used it and she'd needed to once more have a healer tend the injury. Since being granted Sothis's power that long ago day in Remire, she'd come to rely on it far more than she liked to admit. The ability to save lives that would otherwise have been lost, to avoid setbacks and injuries—how could she not use that power?

               Leonie huffed. "You're the one who needs to be careful, Professor." Byleth's hand darted to her injured side as if Leonie might have divined her secret, but Leonie went on blithely without noticing. "What with being around Edelgard as much as you are."

               "Edelgard is our ally now," Byleth said calmly, even as she breathed a sigh of relief and let her fingers fall away from her ribs.

               "Sure. For now. But watch your back, Professor."

               She thought of the way Edelgard's hands would wrap around her back, pulling her closer in moments when it seemed like they could never be close enough, of the way her fingers travelled down her spine, of the way her gaze softened when they were alone together. She thought of all this and gave Leonie a reassuring nod. "I will."

               No sooner had Leonie left than the command tent flap was pushed back and Dorothea arrived carrying a sheaf of papers. "Hello, Professor. Edie asked me to drop these off for you." A smile tugged at her lips at the mention of Edelgard, even as Dorothea deposited the logistics reports on the table Byleth had been working at all evening. "She also asked me to check on how you were doing."

               "I’m fine," Byleth said. She tilted her head as Dorothea leaned closer and peered at her intently. "What?"

               "You have bags under your eyes, Professor."

               Byleth only blinked at her. She'd never needed much sleep but now her side ached even when she was at rest, taking days to heal each time she used Divine Pulse. If sleep insisted on being elusive she preferred to spend the hours walking the camp with Edelgard.

               Dorothea sighed. "Make sure you get some rest, Professor. We need you in top form when we reach Enbarr."

               But the breeziness of Dorothea's tone didn't fool Byleth. "You're worried about Enbarr," she said softly.

               Something flickered across Dorothea's features. "You always do that. Even back at the academy, it was like you could see right through me."

               Byleth shrugged. "Sorry. But you are worried, aren’t you?"

               For a moment she thought Dorothea might deny it, but finally she sank down into the chair next to Byleth. A beat passed and her gaze rested on the map spread out before Byleth, wooden tokens spread across its surface to indicate known positions of allied and enemy units. "It all looks so neat and tidy on your map, Professor, but to reach the palace in Enbarr you'll have to fight in the city streets. You know I used to be part of the Middlefrank Opera Company, don't you?" Byleth nodded. "I still have friends there."

               "Dorothea." Byleth waited until Dorothea looked up and met her eyes. "I can't control what Thales might do when we reach Enbarr, but I promise you I'll do everything in my power to protect its people, just as I would if it were Garreg Mach or Derdriu."

               Dorothea let out a shaky breath. "Thank you, Professor. I appreciate that and I'm sure Edie will too."

               "I've never been to the opera," Byleth said just as the tent flap was pushed open again and Lysithea stepped in. "Maybe after the war I could go."

               "That would be lovely." The smile on Dorothea's lips finally touched her eyes. "I'll introduce you to the whole company. I'm sure they'd be thrilled to meet the dashing general who helped the emperor reclaim her throne. In fact that sounds like the plot of an opera."

               "Don't most operas end tragically?" Lysithea asked as she added a stack of reports to the sizeable pile in front of Byleth.

               A laugh like windchimes filled the tent. "Not all of them. Let's make sure this one doesn't, hmm?" Dorothea said with a wink before she wished them both a good evening and saw herself out.

               Byleth gave the reports a cursory glance and then turned to Lysithea. "Is Seteth back yet?"

               Lysithea shook her head. "Not yet. They likely encountered an enemy patrol." She sat in the chair Dorothea had just vacated and dug out the bottommost reports from Byleth's pile. "I can summarize these for you if it would help."

               Byleth offered her a little smile. "It would. Thank you."

               "You know, I think that may have been the first time I heard you talk about a time after the war."

               "Was it?" Byleth said vaguely, eyes still on the map, tracing the route Seteth had been patrolling and trying to make sense of the enemy's tactics.

               "Claude's always been so much more focused on the future. It's always been clear that he had ambitions for Leicester even if he never came out and told us what his plans were. But you were never like that, Professor. Even back at the academy it was as if you never thought about anything past the end of the school year."

               "I didn't." Byleth looked up from the map, giving Lysithea her full attention.

               "And now?"

               How could she explain? Until Sothis had woken in her, she'd been only the Ashen Demon, something a little less than human, a pulse without a heartbeat. Little by little, talking to her students, fighting by their sides, teaching them all she knew of warfare, she'd become more alive herself. But even then the future had seemed an unfathomable thing. What would she have done when they graduated and moved on into the world without her? Could she have created the same bonds with another class and another, year after year? She doubted any other class could replace her Deer. Claude had always been more of a friend than a student after all. But then then war had happened. And things… "Things are different now, I suppose."

               "Is that what you and Edelgard have been talking about?" Lysithea asked. "The future?"

               A faint flush crept up Byleth's cheeks because, after all, sometimes they did a good deal more than talk, but she managed a nod and a perfectly even tone as she said, "Yes. The future of the empire and the Alliance." But what had really changed was that for the first time she found herself thinking of her own place in that future, of where she was expected to be—and where she wanted to be.

               Lysithea nodded sagely. "Well at least something good's come of this situation if Edelgard is finally willing to compromise."

               For a beat Byleth considered that statement, brow crinkling. Even in their informal discussions Edelgard wasn't one to give ground. She believed so entirely in her cause. It was her situation that had changed, not her beliefs. "I don't think it's quite that," Byleth said finally. "I think she's just in a position where she has to trust someone for the first time. I don't think she's been forced to do that for a long time—or able to."

               Lysithea shuddered. "I could hardly believe it at first. All this time Lord Arundel was one of those awful mages. He was pulling Edelgard's strings all along"

               Byleth made a noncommittal sound. "I don't think that's how she'd phrase it."

               "Even so," Lysithea said, with a dismissive gesture, "I can't imagine having to live in their shadow for so long. After the mages finished their experiments in Ordelia territory they left me to my own devices. They haven't interfered in our affairs since. I suppose I was fortunate in that at least."

               The feel of Edelgard's scars beneath her fingertips still haunted Byleth's thoughts. So many incisions. So much suffering. And for what? A power they decided to discard in favour of Epimenides? Even the power of the goddess wasn't enough to repair what had been done to Edelgard and Lysithea—and so many others who hadn't survived the procedure—but Byleth would use that power to put an end to Thales and his mages once and for all.

               For the next hour Lysithea digested reports and gave Byleth the highlights, but after that Byleth caught her suppressing a string of yawns and insisted she get some rest. After a few feeble protests she accepted. When, a few minutes after she'd left, the tent flap was pulled back again, Byleth expected it to be Lysithea claiming she'd forgotten something or had had an idea on the way back to her tent. Instead she glanced up to find Edelgard standing there, looking at her with an expression of such fondness that it took all of Byleth's restraint not to leap up and  embrace her. But since anyone could walk into the command tent at any moment, she limited herself to a smile and a very soft, "Hello, Edelgard."

               "Byleth," Edelgard replied, her name barely more than a wisp of breath from Edelgard's lips. Lips Byleth wanted very much to kiss. But all she could do was wave her into the seat next to hers. "You're still working at this hour?" Edelgard asked.

               She nodded and gestured to the map. "I've been reviewing everything from our scouts and patrols. All these skirmishes and ambushes—I don't like it. They're delay tactics. Which means they're preparing some sort of counteroffensive."

               "That's the conclusion I'd come to as well. Do you have any idea what they might be planning?"

               "So far, no," Byleth said with a sigh. She scowled at the map as if she could find answers there, but there was no pattern to be found amid all the tokens she'd placed on its surface. "Is there any way we can avoid Fort Merceus? It's the most likely place for them to launch an attack."

               Edelgard shook her head. "Not without considerable delay."

               "Not viable then." She sighed. "Epimenides has had time to recover by now. If that's the case then the easy march we've had so far isn't likely to last."

               "No, I expect not."

               Byleth looked up from the map only when she felt Edelgard's hand grasp hers beneath the table, squeezing tightly. She looked into those violet eyes and offered a grateful smile, though regret seared through her that they couldn't be like this in front of anyone else, not even friends. There was too much at stake and too much mistrust between their nations—between their allies even. She could just imagine the lecture she'd get from Seteth if he got wind of it; he'd surely insist Edelgard was manipulating her for her own ends and he'd imply how disgraceful it was to be consorting with an enemy of the goddess.

               She sighed again. "I wish—"

               Edelgard cut in before she could speak the words aloud. "As they say, if wishes were wyverns then beggars would fly."

               Byleth squeezed those fingers that remained clasped around hers and snared Edelgard's gaze. "Things will change. We're going to make them change."

               The wistful smile on Edelgard's lips made Byleth's unbeating heart ache. "I find it difficult to share your optimism, given everything that's happened."

               Beneath the table, Byleth intertwined their fingers. "Then I'll carry hope for us both."

#

The ruins of Fort Merceus were visible long before the imperial army reached them, the shell of one wall looming on the horizon. The unease among the troops was palpable, their murmurs and tense chatter reaching Byleth's ears at the front of the column.

               Edelgard drew up her horse alongside Byleth's. "The troops are whispering about ghosts," she said.

               Byleth tilted her head. "Ghosts?"

               "Superstitious nonsense, I know, but the ruins are rather unsettling"

               "And we have to pass right by them to get through these hills."

               Edelgard nodded. "That's why the location was ideal for a fortress." She glanced over her shoulder. When her gaze returned to Byleth there was a noticeable curl of her lips. "I believe Count Bergliez is telling the troops what he thinks of the matter."

               Byleth raised an eyebrow. "He doesn't believe in ghosts, I take it."

               "No," Edelgard said slowly, her eyes dancing with mirth. "I don't believe he does."

               Their levity lasted only until Byleth glanced up and saw a familiar wyvern coming in for a landing. She snapped to attention, turning her horse to meet Seteth's wyvern. His expression was dour.

"What is it?" Byleth asked.

               "An army, emerging from the ruins." For a moment Byleth thought Seteth was going to announce it was any army of ghosts but she quickly dismissed the thought and waited for him to continue. "It appears they had hidden themselves among the rubble of Fort Merceus to elude our earlier scouts."

               "Were you able to get a headcount?"

               Seteth shook his head. "Not with any precision. Between the fort and the surrounding forest there's too much cover. I suspect their numbers remain inferior to ours, but they will have the advantage of the high ground as we attempt to pass into Hresvelg territory."

               Byleth gave a curt nod. "Thank you, Seteth."

               They called a halt so that they could prepare themselves. Their army would be fighting in the open and moving up a slight incline while the defenders would have not only the high ground but the ruins that would shield them from arrows and magic. She would need to send their most heavily armoured units it first to clear the way.

               There was a slight twinge in Byleth's side as she dismounted but she ignored it and took her place at the front of the army. Imperial soldiers stood shoulder to shoulder with troops from the Leicester and Knights of Seiros alike. She spared a moment to admire the mix of coloured tabards; they were not always easy with each other around camp, but long weeks of battles had at least taught them to forget their animosity when it came time to fight. And always, she and Edelgard took the lead.

               Today, too, they headed to the front of the line, standing among the armoured soldiers, the Sword of the Creator clasped in Byleth's hand, and the Sword of Seiros in Edelgard's. Byleth glanced her way. Edelgard gave a little nod and together they began the slow march towards Fort Merceus.

               It wasn't long before they were pelted with arrows that clattered off plate armour and raised shields. A few unlucky soldiers screamed and fell back out of the advance. Soon gouts of flame followed the arrows but by then they were almost up the incline and to the fortress.

               Where once there had been a flourishing fortress town and towering stone walls, thought to be so impenetrable they'd been nicknamed the "Stubborn Old General", there now remained only scattered rubble, heaped around gaping craters in the earth. Immense piles of shattered stone cast dark shadows across the ground. From these emerged soldiers, rising from the darkness, swords gleaming, and for a moment Byleth really did believe in ghosts.

               Their faces were those of the Blue Lions.

Chapter Text

In the moments before their two armies clashed, Byleth glimpsed familiar faces along the enemy line. The red shock of Sylvain’s hair, the relic Lúin clasped tightly by Ingrid, a flare of magic from Mercedes’s hands.

               And then their faces disappeared into the morass of battle as Byleth’s army crashed against the defenders in a cacophony of screams and steel. The Sword of the Creator lashed out, gashing the enemy line, raining blood on the broken landscape. Positioned behind the rubble, mages and archers continued their barrage, striking at the attackers with impunity. Byleth used her blade to block a stray arrow and a blast of mage fire in turn, and was about to press forward again when she saw Edelgard pushing towards her.

               "Professor!" she called out.

               Byleth slashed, slicing an attacker's spear haft in two, leaving him stumbling back. "What is it?"

               "Mercedes. I saw her among the defenders. Please do your utmost to avoid harming her. If anything happens to her we risk losing Jeritza."

               "Jeritza?" Byleth repeated in confusion.

               Edelgard's sword streaked through the air, dispatching an opponent with a few precise strikes. "She's his only family," Edelgard said by way of explanation. Which was as much as Byleth expected to get in the middle of a melee.

               A soldier came hurtling towards her before she could reply. Intent on blocking the sweep of his blade, it took Byleth a moment to recognize her attacker. Felix, his expression more ferocious than she remembered at the academy. He knew better than to try to match her strength so he relied on speed and precision. His attacks were fluid and as sudden as lightning strikes and Byleth had to concentrate to fend him off.

               The staccato ring of their blades was a tinny song, scraping at her ears. "Why are you fighting for Arundel?"

               "We have our reasons." Felix's voice was as cool as the steel of his blade and just as sharp. "And the Boar has his."

               "The Boar?"

               Felix sneered. "Our King." Byleth faltered, falling back as Felix seized the opportunity to press his attack. The last time she'd seen Dimitri he'd been raging like a maddened beast. "He'll be after Edelgard's head." Felix's blade swiped past hers; she dodged, countered. "Why don't you do us all a favour and let him kill her? That way everyone gets what they want."

               Except me.

               Byleth used the heft of her blade and her own monstrous strength to send a blow that rattled down Felix's arms, breaking the rhythm of his attacks. Perhaps he was right and what everyone wanted was for Edelgard to be removed from the scene—the Knights of Seiros would be overjoyed and, she suspected, Claude would be eager to make use of the vacuum of power left by her absence. But Byleth ached at the thought, even here in the midst of battle, the gleam of Felix's blade always a hair's breadth from her flesh. She wouldn't give Edelgard up. Not for Claude, not for Lady Rhea, and certainly not for Dimitri.

               Felix's blade slid against her armour, glancing along the unprotected flesh beneath her arm. She'd allowed herself to be distracted—as the Ashen Demon never would have. She needed to put an end to this.

               A flurry of strikes, delivered with such speed that the blade was little more than a flash. Byleth deflected purely on instinct. Speed was so often her advantage, but against Felix, her advantage was strength. She waited, and when he paused before launching another blistering series of blows, she drew back her blade and gathered all her strength for a single attack. Felix quickly raised his blade to block but he couldn't stop her momentum; it knocked the sword from his hand and sent his entire arm snapping backwards. She heard the crack of something and Felix screamed and clutched at his arm. But only an instant later his other hand slid down towards a dagger in his belt. She darted in, striking his knee, hearing the snap of ligaments and tendons.

               Felix collapsed.

               She stepped over him. There was still heavy fighting to the left and right of her but she peered past the melee to try to see the shape of the battle. There was movement on their right flank, as if a wave were rolling through their troops—the right flank that was mainly composed of Adrestian soldiers. She knew instantly what—or rather who—it was. Her stomach lurched when she saw a flash of crimson already moving in that direction.

               Toward Dimitri.

               She sliced her way through Arundel's hapless soldiers, pushing forward in the direction of her army's wavering flank. A flare of magic blazed towards her. She raised the Sword of the Creator and it dissipated on the blade, leaving only a veil of heat swirling around her. Every delay made her hands grip the blade more tightly.

               Mages were still sheltered behind the rubble but Byleth's forces were closing in on them. She looked up in time to see one leave the shelter to launch an attack at a soldier who was about to breach their position. Mercedes. Lightning crackled, sizzling through the air as it jolted from her hands into the body of the oncoming soldier who screamed and collapsed at her feet. But before she could withdraw, an arrow soared true and pierced her belly. She screamed, keeled over.

               It was a wound that would almost certainly be fatal.

               Byleth hesitated for a moment but Edelgard's words replayed themselves in her mind. Jeritza's only family. She didn't understand the connection between them, but she understood that Jeritza was key to holding off the Aegir forces in the east.

                Ever since Sothis had woken within her, the threads of time had been there at her fingertips. She had never hesitated. But now… Now she had to consider before acting, consider the cost. But she knew already what the answer would be. She took a breath, steeled herself, and, with a final glance at Mercedes's injured form, drew back time's weft, unwove the seconds she needed to change Mercedes's fate.

               Pain blossomed on Byleth's side. She gritted her teeth and tilted the Sword of the Creator so its glowing whip-like form seared through the air at the precise moment that the arrow completed its arc. It knocked the arrow from the air and then continued on to strike Mercedes in the leg. She fell, but this time it would be only a flesh wound, enough to force her to withdraw, but nothing more.

               As she continued to push through the melee, Byleth's side and back burned, the wound from Epimenides opened again by the power of Divine Pulse. It was as if some fragment of Epimenides's power remained intertwined with her own, and using one summoned the other. She pushed the thought aside, ignored the throb and wet heat oozing down her side, and focused all her attention on the present, the familiar cacophony of battle, clashing blades and screams and blazing magic all fusing together into a discordant orchestra that assaulted the ears. But as she approached the wavering flank of her army, she could hear a wild gravelly voice above it all. "How many do I have to slaughter before you show yourself, Edelgard?  I'll kill all of them! No matter how many hundreds or thousands there are!"

               And soon she was forcing her way through fleeing troops, men and women who'd thrown down their weapons in order to run faster, their eyes as wide and panicked as those of stampeding horses. There was no chance of reforming ranks, of calming them in this state. Buffeted on all sides, she pressed on, moving towards what they sought to flee.

               When she was finally close enough to glimpse him through the mass of soldiers, Byleth stopped in her tracks. Dimitri's face was contorted into a grimace, one eye covered by a patch but the other the same pale blue she remember from the academy. Yet this was not the soft-spoken prince she'd known five years ago. This one-eyed madman seemed like another person entirely.

               His spear skewered soldiers two at a time, sliding through them as if they were little more than hollow practice dummies. But they were not hollow and the earth all around him was awash in blood. Wherever he moved, death followed, gruesome and unforgiving. And all the while he called for Edelgard's head.

               Edelgard reached him before her, and Dimitri let out a roar. "Edelgard! How I've waited for this day. I will part your head from your shoulders!"

               Blood-spattered, spear caked in gore, he charged.

               Byleth raced forward as Edelgard deflected his attacks, at a disadvantage with her shorter blade. Yet she was patient. When Dimitri lunged, she sidestepped and thrust her blade at his side. He jerked away in time, her sword landing only a glancing blow. The momentary lull was all Byleth needed; she whipped the sword of the creator between them, making them both leap back.

               "Edelgard!" she called. "Let me deal with Dimitri."

               Edelgard's brow furrowed. "I am perfectly capable of—"

               "Our flank is collapsing," Byleth cut in, shaking her head. "The rest of our army is at risk of being overrun and pushed back. I need you to rally your troops."

               Dimitri raised his spear again. "Do not stand between me and my quarry, Professor."

               Byleth stepped in front of her. "Go! I'll take care of him. The troops need to see their emperor."

               Still Edelgard hesitated. "Professor, are you certain?"

               A tiny smile curled Byleth's lips. "I said anyone who wanted to harm you would have to answer to me. I meant it." She didn't dare turn to see Edelgard's face, but she was gratified to hear the flap of her cloak and her armoured footfalls as she turned away.

               Dimitri launched himself after her but Byleth threw herself before him, sword raised. He sneered at her. "If you stand in my way, I will strike you down," he snarled.

               The Sword of the Creator glowed like embers clutched tight in her hands. "You're welcome to try."

               He did. His spear was a whirlwind, with all the force of the Crest of Blaiddyd, a lashing storm that never lessened. Byleth paced herself, deflecting his attacks, waiting for an opening.

               "Why are you fighting for Arundel?" she asked as his spear clattered against the Sword of the Creator.

               "The dead demand vengeance," he snarled. "I will see Edelgard dead by my own hands. She will pay for taking my father's life and all the others slain at her command." The force of his strike rattled down Byleth's arms.

               She fell back a step. "Arundel is one of the mages, Dimitri. Like Thomas was. He's their leader. Edelgard isn't the enemy. She—"

               A roar poured out of Dimitri as he launched himself at Byleth. She deflected the blade once again, but he managed to turn and strike at her with the haft, catching her in her injured side. She gasped, faltered, forcing herself to keep both hands on her hilt rather than reach for her side even as she felt blood welling out of the open wound. His eyes gleamed with wild triumph, like a beast that had caught the scent of blood.

               Divine Pulse could not help her now; it would only make her weaker, more vulnerable. She needed to end this quickly before the wound could slow her down.

               She launched herself at Dimitri, sweeping past the arc of his spear, moving into close range where it was of less use to him. He held up the haft, able to do little more than fend her off. He tried to force her back, her sword pressing into the thick, wooden haft, carving notches into its surface. He gave a mighty heave that sent her stumbling backwards—even as the air filled with a resounding crack as the spear haft snapped in two.

               Byleth expected him to reach for another weapon, for the blades of the slain scattered on the ground. Instead he leaped at her, bare hands curled like claws.

               She flicked her wrist, unfurling the Sword of the Creator. The slender segmented whip lashed  across Dimitri's face. He screamed.

               Hand wrap tightly around her hilt, Byleth approached him. He remained on the ground, howling and clutching at his face. As she drew nearer she could see blood pouring between his fingers. She hovered there, beyond his reach, as cautious as if she were nearing an injured beast. As an anguished roar ripped from his throat, his hands fell away from his face and she saw the extent of the wound. The bony whip had struck across his face and pierced his remaining eye, leaving it nothing but a bloody pulp.

               Dimitri was blind.

               She forced her attention back to the rest of the battlefield. The retreat had been halted. Once again she could see the Adrestians pushing forward against the defenders in the fortress's ruins. Edelgard had managed to rally them and reinforce the main body of the army. Yet the enemy position was strong and the longer this went on the heavier casualties would be. Byleth's side ached dully and she could feel the wetness of blood soaking her shirt and dribbling down her leg. She took a deep breath and shoved the discomfort aside. Her forces needed their leader just as much as the Adrestians had needed Edelgard.

               Byleth cast Dimitri one last long look, and then she left him in darkness.

Chapter Text

As afternoon slipped into evening, the bustle around the ruins of Fort Merceus began to settle and Byleth finally let herself breathe for a moment, though the reek of battle still wafted in the air. The ruins stretched out before her in shadowy stillness, every heap of rubble like a monstrous headstone.

               She turned at the sound of a curt, "Professor," to find Seteth, windswept and with a bandage wrapped around his upper arm.

               "Do we have a tally?"

               He folded his hands behind his back. "Casualties were heavy, just as you'd feared. We estimate we've lost a quarter of our forces."

               Byleth flinched. It wasn't enough to stop them but it was a decisive blow nonetheless.

               "Though I am happy to report," Seteth continue, "that the bulk of the losses were among the Adrestian troops."

               "Dimitri's doing."

               "Yes. We were able to restrain him. He seems to have given up on fighting."

               For a minute Byleth replayed the battle in her mind, trying to decide if she could have prevented such slaughter. Could she have used Divine Pulse to position herself in his path earlier? But she wasn't certain what using Divine Pulse a second time would do to her in her current state. Even her single use of it had left her with a free-flowing wound, which she'd asked Lysithea to quietly patch up for her. If she'd used it again would she have been in any condition to fight Dimitri?

               "What about the other Blue Lions?" she asked.

               "Felix Fraldarius, Mercedes von Martritz, and Sylvain Gautier are among the injured. Ingrid Galatea was captured."

               "No sign of Dedue or Annette?" Seteth shook his head. "I'll want to speak with Ingrid. Tomorrow." And then, with a faint smile, "We could all use some rest."

               "Indeed. I'm afraid the fallout from this latest engagement will delay us by several days."

               "Exactly what they wanted. And Dimitri played right into their hands."

               Seteth hummed thoughtfully. "I have concerns about this endeavour. Our enemies will be well fortified in Enbarr. But I can hardly imagine turning back now when we are so close to liberating Lady Rhea."

               Unease prickled through her. Not so much, she realized at the notion of their enemies lying in wait for them… but at the idea of seeing Lady Rhea again. Her hand came to rest over her breastbone. She needed answers from her but she also dreaded what those answers might be. And besides that, what if Lady Rhea wished to reclaim her place as archbishop? What would become of the fragile alliance Byleth had built between her forces and Edelgard?

               "You should get some rest, Professor," he said finally. "There will be much work to do in the morning."

               She smiled gratefully. "I will, Seteth. Thank you."

               But even as his footsteps were fading, she glimpsed a figure moving among the shadows of the ruins, and rest was the last thing she had on her mind. Carefully, she made her way through the rubble. Edelgard spun, hand on her hilt as she heard her approach. When she saw Byleth, her hand fell away, shoulders relaxing, and a tired smile made its way to her lips. "Byleth."

               Her name was the merest whisper on Edelgard's lips, but it was all Byleth wanted to hear. She threw her arms around Edelgard and pulled her tightly to her. Edelgard nestled against her, lips brushing her neck, one hand stroking through Byleth's hair. Here in the shadows they could hold each other as they never could in the glare of sunlight.

               For a long while they remained liked that, basking in each other's warmth, but finally Byleth drew back to look Edelgard in the face. "How is everyone? I was told about the casualties."

               Her expression was grim. "Petra and Caspar were both injured in the battle. That's to say nothing of the countless soldiers Dimitri slaughtered before you intervened."

               "It looks as if Thales had captured him at Gronder and then turned him loose on us."

               Edelgard's gaze was distant, as if she were staring through the shadows to some distant, deeper darkness. "Yes. Thales does not kill his prisoners, not when he can make use of them."

               Dimitri seemed all too happy to fight for Arundel or anyone else if it gave him a chance at vengeance. Yet his hatred of Edelgard had always puzzled her. Many people had reason to despise the emperor of Adrestia for the war, but his grudge was personal. "Edelgard?"

               "Hm?"

               "Do you know why Dimitri is so fixated on you? He seemed to think you'd killed his father."

               Disdain flashed across her features. "The Tragedy of Duscar was intended to destabilize the Kingdom and increase Cornelia's influence there. Thales allied with discontented Kingdom nobles and arranged for the assassination of King Lambert." She paused to let out a long sigh. "Given my own involvement with Thales, I suppose that was enough for Dimitri to decide I was the chief conspirator of the incident. I suppose that impression was aided by the fact that I spent some time in Faerghus when I was younger. He perhaps supposed I had political contacts in the Kingdom that I used to manipulate events there."

               Byleth let it sink in. Thales had had such power, manipulated so much of what went on in Fódlan from the shadows. He'd accomplished it so effectively that no one had ever suspected until Edelgard had revealed all his secrets after he'd cast her off. It seemed like a horrible miscalculation on his part: the imperial army was certainly not in a better position than when Edelgard had been leading it. In fact, her revelation of Cornelia's identity had allowed Claude to act against Cornelia's forces. And though Byleth still didn't know the outcome of the battle in Faerghus, she had faith that Claude's cunning and bravery would prevail there.

               It seemed to have been Epimenides who'd tipped the scales, who'd changed their long-established plans so radically. If only she knew what Epimenides's true goal was—besides tearing out her "monstrous heart", she supposed.

                When she returned her attention to the present, she found Edelgard was studying her expression, as if trying to divine the direction of her thoughts. Instead of speaking, Byleth reached out and let her fingers trail down Edelgard's cheeks. Perhaps Edelgard had long stood in the shadows along with Thales and his lot, but always she'd been striving for a brighter future. "It looked as if you were searching for something here," Byleth said finally.

               Edelgard turned and gestured towards the ruins. "I think I'd held some hope that perhaps in coming here we'd be able to learn something about the weapon used against the fort but there's nothing." Her gaze swept the remains of the fort where so many Adrestians had died. "I knew when I set out on this path I would be awash in blood, and Fort Merceus is also my responsibility."

               "Thales and Epimenides are to blame."

               Edelgard shook her head. "Blame and responsibility aren't the same, Professor."

               "No," Byleth said softly. "I suppose not."

               As the sun slipped below the horizon, it cast the ruins in an ochre light that gave a burnished glow to the tumbledown walls and heaps of crumbled stonework. It was strange, Byleth thought, how something as simple as light could bring beauty to ruin.

               As they watched the sunset, they remained tucked against one of the still-standing walls, safe from prying eyes in its dusky shadow. "I didn't realize you'd lived in Faerghus," Byleth said after a time. "I suppose I assumed as an imperial princess you'd always been in Enbarr."

               "My uncle brought me there after the Insurrection of the Seven. Very few remember it. At the time I was only one of many imperial heirs and I didn't attract much notice."

               Byleth tilted her head and considered that; it was difficult to imagine a time when Edelgard didn't attract notice. Finally she shook her head and sighed. "I feel as if there's so much I don't know about you."

               A huff. "I could say the same about you. You were always the brilliant mercenary with the mysterious past."

               "Ask me anything you want and I'll try to answer." Turning to her, she took Edelgard's hand and pressed it to her breastbone above the still and soundless place in her chest. "But if I can't, it's because in so many ways I'm a mystery even to myself."

               "Very well," Edelgard said, tilting her chin up. "Where were you born?"

               "Garreg Mach," Byleth said. "After my father found out about my heart, he faked my death and fled the monastery to protect me from Lady Rhea."

               Edelgard's eyes widened slightly at this revelation but she pressed on. "When was your first battle?"

               Byleth's brow furrowed as she wracked her memories for an answer. "I'm not sure. A lot of my memories blend together. Aside from a few incidents I remember because I have scars, most of the battles were all the same. I was the Ashen Demon and I did the job I was hired for. It was like that for as long as I can remember." She gave Edelgard's hand a little tug, drawing her closer.

               "Very well," Edelgard said quietly, her eyes travelling Byleth's face as if searching for some unspoken reply. "In that case, when did you learn to wield a blade?"

               "As soon as I was old enough to hold a training sword."

               "Who was your first love?"

               "You," Byleth said and she leaned forward to press her lips to Edelgard's brow. "You," she said again as she drew back and cupped Edelgard's face. "You," she whispered in the breath before Edelgard's lips found hers.

Chapter Text

The flap of the conference room tent was pulled back and Byleth glanced up to see Ingrid, flanked by a pair of guards, hands tied in front of her. "Commander Eisner, we've brought the prisoner as you requested."

               "Thank you," Byleth said. "Please untie her." The guard drew a knife and cut her loose and Ingrid rubbed at her wrists. Byleth waved towards one of the chairs. For a moment Ingrid scowled at the chairs as if they'd personally insulted her, but finally she drew one out and sat, ramrod straight, jaw clenched. "Felix, Sylvain, and Mercedes are being treated and will make a full recovery," Byleth said when Ingrid remained silent. "Is there anyone else you'd like me to ask after?"

               "No," Ingrid replied, her gaze fixed on some spot behind Byleth.

               Byleth sighed. "In that case, I'll get straight to what I wanted to speak to you about. Why were you and the others fighting at Fort Merceus?"

               "We followed our king." Ingrid's tone was flat, lifeless.

               Byleth shook her head. "But why was Dimitri here?"

               "Because this was where Edelgard would be." There was a distinct rise to her voice when she spoke Edelgard's name.

               Taking a deep breath, Byleth set aside a flash of frustration. It was obvious that Ingrid was being intentionally obtuse. Byleth just didn't understand why, didn't understand what she had to gain by it. "And you want me to believe you were all willing to throw your lives away just to help Dimitri get his revenge?

               Ingrid huffed. "It would end the war."

               Byleth shook her head. "No. It wouldn’t. Not now. Not with Epimenides and Thales in control of the empire. They're allies of the mages I fought at the academy—Solon and Kronya." Ingrid said nothing, her jaw clenched so tight Byleth could almost hear the grinding of her teeth. "I refuse to believe you and the others so eager to fight for them. There must've been some other—"

               "I know what you did to Dimitri!" Ingrid snapped, leaping to her feet, fists slamming on the table between them. She looked as fearsome as an injured wyvern.

               Byleth sighed. They'd bound him in chains just to be safe, but from what she'd heard Dimitri did no more than sit muttering at figures only he could see. He'd become docile enough for the healers to treat his newly-ruined eye, but as she'd thought, there was no saving it. "He's mad, Ingrid. But he's just as strong as ever. It was the best I could do to disable him without killing him."

               "Why couldn't you just let him kill her?"

               There was no doubt who the "her" was and the words pierced Byleth as surely as Epimenides's sword had. Because she's my ally. Because I want to change Fódlan with her. Because I love her.

               She said none of these things. She hung her head and said, "It wouldn't end the war." And while it was true, it wasn't the answer to Ingrid's question.

               In the next few days they would regroup and continue their march to Enbarr. That was where this war would be decided, one way or another.

#

"Everything is in order," Count Bergliez said, concluding his report. "Everyone is eager to return Enbarr to its rightful leader."

               Edelgard nodded. "I'll be counting on you tomorrow. We must expect resistance and we can't rule out that Epimenides may reappear."

               "We'll be ready, Your Majesty. Arundel will finally get his dues."

               "Thank you, Count Bergliez."

               As soon as he'd left, her guards sent in Dorothea. She added another stack of reports to the ones already on Edelgard's worktable. "I had no idea the amount of paperwork involved in running an army," Dorothea said. "How did Hubert ever manage all this for you?"

               Edelgard smothered a pang of regret at the sound of his name. The memory of the little box Arundel had sent her was never far from her mind. Nor the letters. "He'd trained for the role his whole life," she said evenly. And then hastily moved on to, "How's Petra? Will she be able to fight tomorrow?"

               A little huff of laugher from Dorothea. "I don't think you could stop her. She'll storm the gates herself if she has to."

               "I'm glad to hear it. I've told the professor everything I know about Enbarr's defences but, with all the delays, I'm certain Thales has had time to make alterations." In fact she had every reason to believe there would be any number of nasty surprises waiting for them.

               Dorothea drew up the chair across from Edelgard and began sifting through the reports and sorting them according to urgency. Edelgard appreciated the assistance of course, but it reminded her always of Hubert's absence.  "What about the professor, Edie, do you think you've got her on our side yet?"

               Edelgard kept her eyes very firmly fixed on the report before her and tried to ignore the flush creeping up her cheeks. "I'm confident we can continue to count on her support." She said it as blandly as possible even while all she could think about was Byleth's hands tugging her closer, lips seeking hers with eagerness and urgency. And what she'd said that day in the ruins… Edelgard had never expected such devotion. She could hardly account for it, couldn't have predicted it. How could she ever have known that the detached, unattainable professor from five years ago would now be so fervent?

               "Even after we retake Enbarr and they have Lady Rhea back?"

               Edelgard didn't look up. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves." There was too much up in the air still, and far too much at stake to make promises—to anyone.

               Dorothea had nearly finished with the reports when the guards announced that Lysithea was requesting an audience. "Come in," Edelgard called.

               Lysithea stepped into the tent, and then paused as she noticed Dorothea. "Hello, Edelgard," she said after a beat. "I was hoping I could speak to you privately."

               Edelgard's eyebrows arched but she turned to Dorothea. "Could you give us a few moments?"

               Dorothea replied with one of her winning smiles. "I'll just leave you two to chat then."

               Yet even after Dorothea had left, Lysithea hesitated, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides.

               Edelgard waved towards the chair. "Please take a seat. I'd offer you refreshments if we had any."

               Lysithea gave herself a shake and sat down. "I'm sorry to bother you when you're so busy but… it's about the professor."

               Edelgard's pulse stuttered. Always the professor. Even now she was always the centre around which events revolved. "What about her?" Edelgard asked, careful to avoid any inflection.

               "I know you've spent a good deal of time with her over the past few months," Lysithea said. "I've often seen you around camp, deep in discussion. And the professor… she trusts you, doesn't she?"

               "I—Yes, I suppose so." It was such an impressive understatement. She'd so clearly won Byleth's trust—and much more, when all she had ever expected was an ally. No, not even that. She'd not believed the professor so open to her ideas, so willing to turn Fódlan on its head. "Why do you ask?"

               Lysithea's brow furrowed and it was several moments before she replied. "Has she mentioned anything to you about the wound she received at Myrddin? The one when she fought Epimenides."

               Edelgard's stiffened. "It was slow to heal, I believe. I know it reopened after we left Myrddin."

               Lysithea's lips thinned to a line. "She hasn't spoken of it recently?"

               "Lysithea, is the professor… unwell?"

               "I'm not sure," Lysithea said with a sigh. "That's what's troubling me. She came to me for healing recently and the wound looked almost as fresh as it did in Myrddin. And she was asking me questions about my research and whether I'd come across anything tying together crests and wounds."

               Folding her hands on the table, Edelgard was very careful to keep the alarm from showing in her expression.

               "Would you speak to her?" Lysithea asked. "If Claude were here I'd have asked him." She shook her head. "I think she still sees the rest of us as her students. But she treats you as an equal."

               "Of course, Lysithea. I'll speak to her before day's end."

               Relief washed over Lysithea, loosening her shoulders and bringing a tiny smile to her face—even as Edelgard was filled with dread.

#

 Dusk was just settling over camp and Edelgard had already changed for the night, her hair loosed from her crown, when her guards announced that Byleth had finally arrived. "Sorry," she said breathlessly as she stepped into Edelgard's tent. "I only just got back."

               "Where have you been?" Edelgard couldn't quite keep the note of exasperation from her voice. All afternoon Lysithea's words had been troubling her, but the messenger she'd sent out to locate Byleth had returned saying that she wasn't in camp.

               "I was out with one of the scouting parties. Is something wrong? I was told you were looking for me."

               Edelgard didn't ask her to sit down. Instead she gave her a long look, searching for any outward sign of an ailment. "How are you?" she asked finally.

               Byleth blinked once. "I'm well."

               "Well enough to fight tomorrow?"

               "Of course. Edelgard—"

               "How is the wound in your side healing?"

               Byleth stiffened. "It's fine."

               Edelgard raised an eyebrow. "In that case…" She strode towards Byleth and kissed her. Byleth's hands came up to cup her face, the calluses on her palms rough against Edelgard's cheek even while her hands were beautifully gentle. Edelgard's own hands dropped to her waist, pulling her closer… and then darting beneath the hem of her shirt.

               Byleth broke away, snagging Edelgard's errant hand but it was too late, Edelgard had already felt the linen bandage wound around Byleth's middle. "I see I'm no longer the only accomplished liar," she said, giving Byleth her sternest look.

               "It's not that bad," Byleth said sheepishly and Edelgard had never seen her face quite so scarlet.

               "Lysithea said you asked her for healing recently. Were you injured fighting Dimitri?"

               Byleth shook her head, not meeting Edelgard's eyes. "Really, I'm fine."

               "Then let me see."

               For moment Byleth remained perfectly still and then she let out a breath and hung her head. "All right." She peeled off her shirt, and while Edelgard wished she could take the time to admire the steely tendons of her arms and the powerful muscles of her shoulders, her eyes were drawn down to the linen bandage. She watched Byleth's hands unwind it to reveal the wound Epimenides had given her, an angry red gash that looked like it was only beginning to heal.

               "And your back?"

               "The same," Byleth said, turning slightly so Edelgard could see the matching wound where Epimenides's glowing blade had come through her back.

               "Byleth… If this wound is reopening whenever you fight—"

               "It's not when I fight," Byleth cut it. "It's…" Edelgard raised an eyebrow as Byleth continued to hesitate for several long seconds. Finally she drew herself up and met Edelgard's eyes. "I have certain… abilities I received from the goddess. The wound gets worse when I use them."

               Edelgard only just managed to avoid flinching. The goddess. Of course this would have something to do with goddess and Byleth's mysterious power. "Then the solution appears simple," Edelgard replied flatly.

               A violent shake of her head made Byleth's view on that solution clear even before the reply tumbled from her lips. "No." She stepped closer to Edelgard, her green eyes piercing as she held Edelgard's gaze. "As long as I have these powers, I'll use them. The cost to me is nothing compared to the lives I can save."

               And that Edelgard understood all too well. Her strength, too, had come at a terrible personal cost, but one she would bear for Fódlan's future.

               "I have to keep pressing forward," Byleth said, her voice low and intense, "no matter what."

               "Byleth…" If there had ever been any doubt in Edelgard's mind about the nature of her feelings for the professor, they were erased in that moment.

               She pressed her lips to Byleth's, pressed herself close against her, melting into the warmth of her. She let her hands explore the exposed skin of her back, felt her whole body tingle at the contact, even as Byleth's arms tightened around her.

               Tomorrow they would siege Enbarr. They would face Thales and he would not hesitate use everything—and everyone—that he could against her. She could win her throne at the cost of everything that mattered to her, everyone she cared for. Everyone she loved.

               "Stay," Edelgard whispered.

               Byleth did.

Chapter Text

Byleth woke before dawn, curled around Edelgard, one arm draped over her waist and the warmth of her skin like a balm against her wounded side.

               She didn't dare move when Edelgard was, for once, sleeping soundly so she let last night replay itself in her mind's eye like a beautiful dream. Stumbling over to Edelgard's camp bed, fumbling at each other's clothes. The fear and wanting that had warred in Edelgard's expression when Byleth had tugged at her shirt. "Let me see you," Byleth had pleaded, cupping her face. Even now, Byleth could feel the rough texture of a scar beneath her fingertips. Every scar was a testimony to Edelgard's strength, to her survival, and Byleth had wanted nothing more than to press her lips to every one. And she had.

               In the past, people had often commented on her vacant expression, or, more kindly, said she was daydreaming as Hilda once had, but she'd never felt more alive than with Edelgard in her arms. Her heart might not beat, but pressed close to Edelgard, she was filled with a sense of rightness she'd never had before, an utter conviction that she'd finally found the path she'd promised Sothis she would cut for herself.

               "I've wanted this for so long," Edelgard had whispered and it had been like a dam opening up inside her, a wave of emotion Byleth couldn't name or explain.

               "I never knew what I wanted," she'd managed, voice choked, "until now."

               Every touch, every sound, every hesitation—she treasured them all. She'd come so close to never knowing Edelgard at all, to following the path everyone else had laid out for her, without ever having any of this. When, some time later, Edelgard did stir and turned over to nestle into Byleth's shoulder, Byleth pulled her in close, clutching at her as if she might vanish like morning mist.

               "What is it?" Edelgard said, lips brushing against Byleth's skin as she spoke.

               Byleth squeezed her more tightly. "If I hadn't been injured, if you hadn't saved me…"

               Edelgard spoke the thought Byleth couldn’t bring herself to utter. "Your path would have lain across my grave," she whispered. "And you would have followed it."

               She squeezed her again. "I'm sorry."

               Edelgard raised her head so she could meet Byleth's gaze, hand stroking her cheek. "Don't apologise for being who you are." Her other hand reached down to trail over the scar on Byleth's thigh from the injury that had begun all of this, that had brought them together against all odds. Edelgard's determined expression flickered, softening as she spoke again. "This may sound… sentimental… but I need you to understand…" She took a breath and then, violet eyes staring unflinchingly into Byleth's, "For so long I've lived in chains. But even so I was determined to bear their weight and see Fódlan changed, no matter the cost. Even after Thales discarded me I still bore their weight." She placed a finger over Byleth's lips before words could slip out of them. "You broke those chains, Byleth." And then Edelgard kissed her as fiercely as she ever had, as if perhaps, she was afraid she might never again.

#

It was only just after dawn when the generals of the assembled armies gathered within view of Enbarr as they waited for the scouts to return. Byleth was vaguely aware of Edelgard repeating her briefing on the city's defences; there was a palpable unease among them all that troubled her.

               "The outer city has no defensive structures so you can expect only token resistance there," Edelgard was saying. "Arundel's forces will be stationed in the inner city where he can make use of the defensive walls and guard towers from the old city. I have no doubt he will sacrifice the rest of Enbarr in order to protect the palace."

               The Black Eagles looked grim and Dorothea hung her head. "I didn't expect to come back here like this."

               "A good deal has happened that was unexpected," Edelgard said. Her eyes flitted momentarily to Byleth and a flush swept over the emperor's cheeks. Byleth did her best to keep her expression neutral, though it was difficult not to let her mind wander to the warmth of Edelgard's skin against hers, the sound of her name on her lips, the way her fingers had traversed her body.

               Leonie's arms were crossed over her chest and she stared hard in Enbarr's direction. "So if we win here does that mean the war will be over? Just like that?"

               "We still don't know what's going on in the Kingdom," Byleth pointed out. "The last report we had was that there was fighting in the capital."

               "There's no way they can beat Claude," Leonie replied with utter confidence.

               Seteth's expression was dour. "There is the matter of Lady Rhea."

               Edelgard gave him only the most cursory glance. "As I told you, when I was last at the palace she was being held there. But I have no control over what Arundel may have done in the meantime."

               "Let's keep focussed on the battle at hand," Byleth said, though the reminder about Rhea unsettled her. If Rhea was dead then it would be much more difficult to keep the Church from demanding retribution—and it would mean she would be expected to take on the role of archbishop herself. If Rhea was alive and she returned to her role as archbishop, it would be difficult for Byleth to keep her promises to Edelgard.

               The discussion came to an end with the arrival of the lead scout. "General Eisner!" she called out even before she'd slid out of her mount's saddle.

               Byleth stepped forward to receive her report. The scout's eyes were wide, her body taut with urgency. "What is it?" Byleth asked, careful to keep her tone calm even as a wave of foreboding washed over her.

               The scout bowed hastily. "Demonic beasts are loose in the streets of Enbarr."

               A chorus of "what?" and "how?" from the assembled group.

               "How many?" Byleth asked.

               The scout shook her head. "We couldn't get an accurate count. A dozen easily. Maybe more."

               "And what about the people?" Dorthea asked urgently.

               "People are attempting to flee," the scout replied, "but it was chaotic."

               Edelgard's expression was stony. "This is Arundel's doing. He will happily use the citizens of Enbarr to delay us further."

               Count Bergliez cursed. "That snake. When I get my hands on him I'll snap him in two."

               Byleth turned to face the assembled generals. "Go to your units and get everyone moving immediately. We need to secure the outer city. We can't try to breach the palace until we've secured our route.  Seteth," she said, turning to him. "Take your wyvern riders. Find a safe route for the citizens to evacuate and lead them out of the city. Have the pegasus riders act as spotters and keep us informed of where the demonic beasts are." He nodded and hurried away. She turned then to Edelgard. "If we split our forces—"

               "No. Between the two of us we can eliminate any demonic beast we encounter quickly." She leaned closer then and, under her breath, added, "You're injured and I don't intend to let you out of my sight."

               Byleth hesitated, but Edelgard stared back at her, unflinching. It was difficult to reconcile the steely emperor before her, clad head to toe in polished plate mail and donning the golden double-headed eagle of Adrestia, with the girl who'd lain naked in her arms last night and so tenderly rested her fingers against her wounded side.

               "There's no time to debate the matter," Edelgard said. And she was right. The longer they delayed, the more innocent lives were at risk and the longer Arundel would have to fortify his defences.

               "Let’s go," she said simply.

#

The reverberating roars of demonic beasts rumbled through the air like thunder, even before Byleth's army reached the city. When it did, the sound was joined by the screams of Enbarr's citizens, still trying to flee or hide.

               Up ahead, Byleth spotted two demonic beasts blocking the main thoroughfare, surrounded by overturned carts, smashed wares, and assorted debris. Snarls and screams echoed from the branching streets and Byleth signalled the other generals to spilt up and perform a sweep of the area while she and Edelgard pushed forward with their troops.

               The nearest creature was sniffing around the splintered remains of a market stall, but its interest shifted immediately as Byleth approached, the Sword of the Creator glowing in her hands, and Edelgard at her shoulder. They didn't speak, just launched themselves at the beast in a dance whose steps had become familiar to them these past months. Byleth used her blade's whip to strike at the creature's face and distract it while Edelgard moved in close and slashed at its limbs. They took turns harrying and distracting, working as easily as if they'd trained together at the academy and learned the rhythm of each other in combat. As they slashed and stabbed at the monster, Byleth was certain she could sense Edelgard even when she was out of sight, feeling the tug of her twin crest like a invisible filament connecting them.

               The second beast came at them before they were done with the first. Without speaking, they regrouped, standing back to back, Byleth fending off the second demonic beast while Edelgard finished off the first. It felt easy, natural, like fighting with Edelgard—instead of against her—was what she'd been born to do. Edelgard could keep pace with her as none of her students could, and her fighting style easily melded with Byleth's own as if Edelgard had become an extension of her.

               Both beasts crumbled away soon enough, the power of the artificial crest stones that sustained them withering away. In the aftermath, Byleth spotted movement beneath an overturned haycart. She braced for an attack only to realize that they weren't soldiers, but a trio of Enbarr's citizens who'd taken shelter there. Edelgard lifted the cart away and their eyes bulged at the sight of her, resplendent in her armour. Her crown and the golden eagle of her cloak made it impossible to mistake her for anyone but the emperor. And there she stood, fighting in the streets of her own capital, coming to the aid of her citizens. They would remember this, Byleth was certain.

               As they pushed further into the city, there was evidence of the demonic beasts' passage. Every window was shuttered. Those who'd been unable to find shelter quickly enough had met a gruesome end. Byleth could hear fighting on the side streets and the snarls of more demonic beasts, but the lack of soldiers alongside them unsettled her—at least until they were within sight of the inner city's defences. The old city wall was visible ahead, over the tops of a cluster of newer buildings, when a burst of flame soared over the wall in a high arc. Fire orbs, a type of ballista operated by mages that flung fiery spells, had not been part of the original defences Edelgard had outlined.

               "Take cover!" she shouted moments before she and Edelgard threw themselves sideways into the doorway of the closest building. The heat of the magical flame was searing as it soared past them and, as they held tight to one another, Byleth wasn't certain who was shielding whom. All she knew was that she had Edelgard in her arms and she would do anything to protect her, anything to wrest her empire back from Arundel's hands.

               The ball of magical flame crashed into the street where they'd been standing moments ago, scattering their soldiers. They rushed forward out of cover as the blaze lapped at the wooden edifice. Byleth looked up to find more fire orbs being propelled over the city walls into the outer city with its narrow streets and flammable timber buildings.

               "Keep moving!" she called to the troops following behind her. Citizens rushed out of the buildings they'd taken shelter in only moment before, the crackle of flames joining their panicked screams. Overhead, pegasus and wyvern riders were veering wildly to avoid the flaming projectiles. Edelgard's expression was grimly determined as she marched forward.

               Twice more they were forced to dodge flaming missiles as they continued to move inexorably towards the ancient defensive wall protecting the oldest part of Enbarr. The city had expanded around it over the centuries, and with Adrestia's might there had been no need for walls; none had come close to invading Enbarr in the past thousand years. Even the Dagdans hadn't made it anywhere near the capital. Already the streets had become narrower and the buildings on either side were of stone instead of the timber buildings of the newest parts of the city. The iron bands of the central gate ahead were clearly visible when something flickered in the street, like a shadow being cast between them and the gate.

               Byleth halted. The others followed suit. "What is that?" She reached for a pebble in the street and tossed it. It rebounded off the shadow with a fizzling crackle. "Some sort of magical barrier?" She turned to glance at Edelgard.

               Edelgard shook her head. "I've heard of such things—a personal barrier spell—but never something at this scale. It must require a great deal of power."

               Byleth's innards roiled. They were being outmaneuvered, taking losses before even encountering the enemy, being funnelled where the enemy wanted them, where they'd be easiest to strike with fire orbs, and forced to cut a path through the demonic beasts roaming the city. But she could see no other way to take Enbarr than to push through, no matter the losses they incurred.

               "Let's turn back, find another route," she announced.

               She sent up a flare of magic signaling for a scout and, when the pegasus rider landed, "There are magical barriers blocking the path to the old city. They look like a wall of shadow like this one." She pointed and the rider nodded. "Report on where they're located and try to identify who or what is casting the magic and neutralize them if you can."

               "Yes, General Eisner," the scout replied with a bow before taking to the sky to relay Byleth's order to the other flyers.

               Byleth turned the army onto the nearest side street where they were almost immediately set upon by another demonic beast. Mages loosed their magic even as Byleth and Edelgard charged forward, confronting the beast head on. As her sword sliced into the creature's hide, Byleth was certain she saw something ahead, a flash of dark robes and pointed masks. She dodged a swipe of its massive claws and tried to peer past it, but there was no time and she had to focus as it snarled and leaped towards her. The Sword of the Creator glowed like a burning brand and she slashed and stabbed while Edelgard raked its side with the wavering edges of the Sword of Seiros.

               The demonic beast fell, crumbling into powdery dust like charcoal, leaving behind only the mangled shape of a man and the shattered fragments of a stone. Just like all the others. She moved past him, around the bend where they could turn into the next street, which would lead back towards Enbarr's old city. She reached it just in time to see the dark veil of another barrier spell rise between the buildings and to glimpse the fluttering of robes as the enemy mages responsible hurried away.

               Byleth turned to Edelgard. "We're being boxed in," she said, keeping her voice calmer than she felt. This was more than a delay tactic. There was a plan at play here that she wasn't seeing. Perhaps when the scouts returned with a report she'd understand what was going on, but for now she was fumbling in the dark.

               "We have no choice but to return the way we came."

               "I know," Byleth said, voice tight. "We can split our units, have everyone choose different streets. They can't block every route and eventually our flyers or someone on foot will catch up with the mages."

               She turned the army around and headed back towards the main street even as plumes of smoke rose from that direction. She hoped the others were having more success than she and Edelgard.

               They were met by another barrage from the fire orbs. Byleth hurried her troops along, onto the side streets where—she hoped anyway—the fire orbs would be less likely to target them. She paused to receive a report from a pegasus rider. "General Eisner, Seteth's forces have been trying to harry the mages creating the barriers but they've come under attack by enemy wyverns." Byleth glanced up and through a haze of smoke she could see signs of aerial combat, wyverns slicing through the air towards each other, their riders' spears outstretched.

               She heard the screaming before they'd even turned the corner onto the next street. Two-storey timber buildings on either side of the narrow street had been struck by fire orbs and were engulfed in flames, obscuring the area in thick smoke. Imperial troops—she couldn't tell at first whose detachments they were from—hurried panicked residents out of the nearby buildings and down the street away from the inferno. The clouds of smoke churned like a living thing, but amidst it she spotted Count Bergliez and a sizeable group of his soldiers, including Caspar who was impossible to miss as he shouted a battlecry, just like at the academy. Count Bergliez's forces were holding off no less than three demonic beasts as screaming residents struggled to make their escape.

               She rushed forward to help, Edelgard close at her side, but they'd only crossed half the distance when one of the wooden buildings groaned like a dying beast, its timbers giving way, collapsing into the street, showering the combatants with flaming debris.

               Byleth halted their advance, staring at the spot where Count Bergliez and Caspar had stood. The screaming and the battlecries alike had stopped. The stillness seemed to stretch on until one of the demonic beasts, emerged from the smoke, its hide covered in bright cinders, bodies crunching beneath its clawed feet.

               Byleth's side burned even before she reached for time's thread. She took a deep breath… and pulled back the strands of time.

Chapter Text

Byleth gritted her teeth against the stabbing pain in her side and focussed on undoing the weft of time, unmaking the minutes she needed to save Count Bergliez, and Caspar, and the dozens of soldiers and civilians she'd just seen crushed beneath the burning building and the demonic beasts.

               She tugged until she was back on the previous street, before the scout had stopped to make her report.

               Time resumed its pace—and Byleth's knees buckled as pain exploded through her side. Edelgard snagged her arm, steadying her. "Byleth? Byleth, what did you do?"

               "I had to." It was little more than a raspy whisper. "Too many lives…" She took a deep breath to steady herself.

               "You're in no condition to—"

               "We have to move," Byleth cut in, forcing herself upright. "There's not much time."

               She took off at a run. A moment later she could hear Edelgard keeping pace behind her—no small feat in her heavy armour. This time, Byleth didn't pause when the pegasus rider tried to flag her down to deliver a report. Instead she charged towards the next street and didn't stop until she'd reached the swirling smoke where Count Bergliez was fighting the demonic beasts.

               "The building is about to collapse! Get everyone back!" She had to bellow to be heard over the roar of the flames and the snarls of the demonic beasts.

               Count Bergliez glanced at her and she was certain he was about to argue when Edelgard caught up to her and shouted, "Do as she says!"

               And then there was no hesitation. Count Bergliez ordered his troops to retreat, carrying along with them all of the residents they could, the demonic beasts hot on their heels.

               This time, when the building's timbers gave way, the debris crashed over one of the demonic beasts, but the crowd that had been standing there minutes ago had cleared. She'd done it. Her side ached and she could feel the warmth of blood oozing from the reopened wound, but she had saved them all. Count Bergliez, Caspar, dozens of soldiers and citizens. The cost to her was worth it.

               Count Bergliez's units reformed to face the demonic beasts again. The creatures ploughed through the burning rubble, scattering debris, tongues of flame lapping at their armoured hides, bathing them with an orange glow. The air was full of smoke and embers but a shape moved through it, emerging from the glowing haze. Epimenides, her eyes as bright as the embers when she caught sight of Byleth.

               "I'll deal with Epimenides," Byleth said, her gaze trained on her.

               Edelgard grabbed her arm. "You're hurt."

               And for a moment Byleth took her eyes off the battle, off her enemy, and turned to meet Edelgard's gaze. Even then, in the midst of the fighting and flame, she could feel the pull of those violet eyes. All she wanted was to touch her face, to kiss her lips, to speak her name and pour into it all the feelings she had never before been able to truly feel. But to do that she needed to win today and every day, until Fódlan found peace. "I'll be all right," she said simply. "Help Count Bergliez with the demonic beasts and keep them off my back."

               Edelgard's lips thinned to a line but she gave a curt nod and released Byleth's arm.

               Byleth's side ached, but she pushed away the throb of her wound and turned all her attention to Epimenides, advancing towards her, sword raised. She whipped the Sword of the Creator towards her. Epimenides deflected with her glowing blade and charged at her. Her dual blades met Byleth's, and her arms strained beneath the force of the blow; she'd almost forgotten just how strong Epimenides was. And just how fast, she thought, as her enemy drew back only to attack with a series of blindingly quick strikes. She deflected them, matching Epimenides blow for blow.

               Her eyes stung as the smoke around them grew thicker, and her lungs began to burn with every breath as they continued their duel. The roar of flames and the roars of demonic beasts had melted together into a cacophony that drowned out the clang of their blades. And it was perhaps that mix of smoke and noise and the distant throb of her side that made her slow to notice that something was different about Epimenides's fighting style. She was as strong and as fast as ever, but she remained always in front of Byleth, never warping to strike from behind or to one side.

               "You seem different today," she said, raising her voice to be heard in the tumult. "Why aren't you warping?"

               Epimenides bared her teeth like a snarling dog. Her only reply was another ferocious strike. But the lack of an answer was enough to make Byleth wonder if she didn't because she couldn't. Perhaps she'd been as affected by Byleth's blade as Byleth had been by hers…

               Their blades met again but this time Epimenides shoved her back, making Byleth stumble. A blast of scalding air blew past her as another building gave way and timbers smashed to the ground between them, sending embers spiralling into the air in glowing whirlwinds. And then all at once, strong hands seized her shoulders, steadying her. She looked up and Edelgard was next to her in the inferno.

               "Now!" Epimenides shouted.

               A pair of mages rushed out of the smoke behind Epimenides. Byleth braced herself for an attack but it never came. Instead the air crackled with energy—not the crackle of flames, but of magic—and when she tossed a glance over her shoulder she found a barrier of dark magic at her back separating her and Edelgard from the rest of their forces.

               "What are you playing at?" Edelgard demanded, the orange light reflected on the surface of her blade making it seem alive like a flickering flame grasped tightly in her hand.

               "See for yourself," Epimenides replied, stepping aside as a massive shadow loomed in the smoke behind her. Byleth readied herself for another demonic beast, but the shape was larger than any of the ones they'd seen thus far.

               It emerged from the haze of smoke and Byleth froze, staring. Instead of the usual mottled grey hide of demonic beasts, this creature was snowy white save where ash drifted down to smudge its strange ropey skin. It was as if the entire creature had been assembled of silvery vines. Tatty white wings flapped on its back, sending a wind of ash and embers their way. Byleth raised her arms to shield herself, lungs burning. The fiery air, heated by the flames, scorched with every breath.

               Edelgard looked at once alarmed and horrified. "Is that… the Immaculate One?"

               "No," Byleth said. "The Immaculate One is much larger than this. I saw her when you attacked Garreg Mach."

               "You saw her?" Edelgard repeated. "So you know… You know about Rhea."

               Byleth gave a curt nod. "This must be some creature they made, just like the demonic beasts."

               "This is the true face of your kind, Fell Star," Epimenides called out.

               Byleth whipped the Sword of the Creator towards her and this time Epimenides did warp away. When she reappeared again, some distance behind the white beast, her glowing sword had vanished and she'd fallen to one knee. Triumph surged through Byleth. She'd been right; Epimenides was weakened.

               That glimmer of triumph evaporated a moment later when a second magical barrier crackled to life behind the white beast. Epimenides was back on her feet, her teeth bared in a savage smile.

               They were trapped with the white beast on this narrow street, surrounded by smoke and flame. The creature stalked toward them, its eye sockets dark and lifeless, its ropey hide taking on a burnished glow as it moved through the inferno.

               Edelgard stood shoulder to shoulder with her, body tensed and ready. "We could try to signal the flyers," she suggested.

               Byleth glanced up quickly but the sky was obscured by smoke. "I don't think they'll be able to see us."

               "Then let's finish this quickly," Edelgard said.

               Byleth nodded and together they charged forward. Byleth flicked her wrist and the Sword of the Creator's boney whip scoured the creature's hide. It didn't so much as flinch. Its attention was focussed on Edelgard as if mesmerised by the blade in her hands. The creature snapped at her. Edelgard dodged and brought her sword down, slashing at its neck. Byleth used its distraction to strike at its exposed side, leaving a long gouge in its ropey hide. Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed the blur of its tail whipping around toward Edelgard who'd raised her blade to strike its muzzle again. The tail caught her full on and sent her flying, rolling across the paving stones before landing in a heap.

               "Edelgard!"

               Byleth heard the reply before she could rush towards her. "I'm all right." The white beast was coming at them again and Byleth placed herself between it and Edelgard, fending off its attacks. The flames on either side were growing greedier, lapping at the sky and consuming every bit of timber, ravenous as wyverns. The scorching heat stole the sweat from her brow and the moisture from her lips, though the white beast seemed immune to its effects. 

               Edelgard rejoined her, ash smudging her face and clinging to her armour. "We need to get out of here." Byleth nodded, eyes still trained on the monster as its tail took another swipe at her, a moment before its toothy maw plunged towards her.

               "The magical barriers aren't that high," Byleth said, dodging the attack and countering. "I could boost you over."

               "I am not leaving you here," Edelgard replied, sounding affronted even as she managed to land a solid strike across the beast's right eye. It snarled and drew back. Before Byleth could press the advantage, the white beast's wings began to flap, churning up a hot wind of smoke and embers, sending it towards them in a burning cloud.

               Byleth threw her arm up over her face to protect her eyes but embers burned her cheeks and the air was thick and ashy. Edelgard started to cough. A moment later Byleth's aching lungs began to heave as well but she forced herself forward, pushing into the blistering heat and forcing her stinging eyes to remain open. She charged, darting to one side at the last moment to attack beast's left flank. As it turned to snap at Byleth, Edelgard darted to the right to attack there.

               They both came around, attacking the beast's rear flanks but they were forced back as its tail whipped back and forth between them, flaming debris crunching beneath it.

               "Our attacks don't seem to be having much effect," Edelgard said, voice raspy.

               "It didn't like it when you struck its eye," Byleth replied. "If we strike together, maybe we can pierce its hide."

               Edelgard gave a curt nod, her hands tightening around her sword as the white beast turned to face them.

               Byleth waited, seconds seeming to stretch out as if she'd paused time's flow, until the angle was just right to catch the creature just as it would face them. "Now!"

               Together they raced towards it, Byleth's sword glowing as orange as the flames and Edelgard's reflecting its light. As one, they leaped at their foe, blades outstretched, and struck its right eye in perfect unison. Byleth could feel the creature's hide give way beneath the force of the blow, the Sword of the Creator sinking into its ropey flesh.

               The white beast yowled, throwing back its head, and knocking them both away. They landed heavily, Byleth taking in a lungful of ash, which her chest protested vehemently. With every cough, the open wound in her side seemed to rend her body, as if tearing her apart from the inside out. Next to her, Edelgard tried to right herself but she, too, was assaulted with coughing as the white beast collapsed in the street and sent a gust of blistering smoke their way. In mere moments its hulking mass dissolved and left behind the mangled shape of a man.

               Edelgard's coughing turned to wheezing and Byleth reached over, hand brushing against her cheek, to let a tiny trickle of faith magic pour into her. Edelgard's breathing eased and she straightened. She turned to Byleth, but before she could speak, a figure appeared through the smoke.

               Epimenides sneered at them. "Still alive? Don't worry, there's more where that came from." She turned her gaze on Edelgard. "You gave up an empire just to parlay with the Fell Star. Was it worth it? Your city is in flames, Emperor Edelgard." 

               Next to her, Edelgard didn't so much as flinch. Her expression remained stony. Leaning heavily on the Sword of the Creator, Byleth pushed herself upright. Epimenides returned her attention to Byleth. "Let me find another playmate for you.

               "Epimenides, wait!" Edelgard shouted. Something in Epimenides's expression flickered. When Byleth turned, Edelgard was on her feet again.

               "Forgive me, Byleth," she said—a moment before pain exploded across Byleth's temple and the heat and flames and smoke fell away into darkness.

Chapter Text

Byleth woke in darkness. Her head felt fuzzy but didn't ache, which seemed strange, though at first she couldn't quite pin down why. She could breathe easily again. And yet this felt nothing like the infirmary. There was no mattress under her body, nor a pillow beneath her head, only chill stone, and the air smelled of mildew. She reached down to gently prod her side and though it was tender, there was no trace of fresh blood.

                As she tried to sit up, the clink of metal filled the space around her. Feeling around her ankle, her fingers brushed against a cold metal band. A manacle. She traced it back to a chain in the wall.

                Panic set her blood thrumming as the battle in Enbarr's streets returned to her in a rush. The white beast. Epimenides. Edelgard.

                "Edelgard?" It was so dark Edelgard could have been here with her and she wouldn't have known. She held her breath, hoping to catch the whisper of her breathing, or the faint rustle of shifting fabric. Nothing. "Edelgard?" she called out again.

                This time, something slid open across from her and a rectangle of light poured into the room, leaving her blinking against the sudden onslaught. "Pipe down in there," a gruff voice said.

                "Where's Edelgard? Is she all right?" Byleth demanded. If they'd both been captured after she blacked out—

                A huff of laughter from the other side of what she could now make out to be a door. "You don't need to concern yourself with Her Majesty's welfare. She'll deal with you when it suits her."  The panel slid shut again, returning her to darkness.

                "Wait!" Byleth shouted. Relief and confusion warred in Byleth's still-fuzzy mind. "I don't understand."

                "What's to understand?" Not the guard this time, but a dry, cracked voice, some distance away. "You're a prisoner."

#

It  was difficult to tell how long she sat in the darkness. The other voice—the other prisoner—didn't speak again, and Byleth was left to her thoughts. She tried to remember those last moments of the battle. She and Edelgard had been brought to their knees, not by the white beast they'd fought, but by the smoke and flames surrounding them. Epimenides had been about to summon some other monster to finish them off when Edelgard had—had apologised? Had she… struck her? Surely it had been Epimenides that had knocked her out somehow—but no, Epimenides had been some distance away and Edelgard had been next to her.

                Forgive me, Byleth.

                She could still hear the anguish in Edelgard's voice.

                But even as she tried to make sense of it, her mind kept returning to the warmth of Edelgard's skin beneath her fingers, the strength of her hands insistently pulling her closer, the softness of those lips that had spoken Byleth's name with such tenderness. All those nights they'd spent planning their future, one where they would work together to change Fódlan—in the darkness of her cell they repeated on an endless loop in her mind's eye.

                She'd lapsed into a hazy state between sleep and wakefulness when a metallic groan jolted her into alertness. Again, her eyes were assaulted by a flood of light as the cell door swung open. For several seconds all she could do was squint into the opening, the glare so bright that her eyes watered, trying to make out the shape there.

                "How is your head, Professor?"

                Byleth rubbed at her eyes and there was the Edelgard’s familiar silhouette. Framed by the light from the corridor, and facing her in the darkened cell as she was, Byleth could barely make out her face. "Fine," was all Byleth could manage. The reality of her situation was inescapable. She was in a cell and Edelgard was here, standing over her. No longer allies, or partners, or lovers, but captor and prisoner.

                "Good. I had a healer tend to you. Thales requires you to be intact."

                "Edelgard, how could you?" The words poured out of Byleth like water from an overflowing jug. All of her reserve, the coolness her students knew her for, was gone in the face of this moment.

                "One life for an empire," Edelgard said softly.

                Byleth tried to move and the manacle jerked her back. "But you can't trust them! They've already betrayed you once."

                "I did what was necessary," Edelgard said, her voice as cold as the stone walls surrounding them.

                "Edelgard—" Her parched throat betrayed her and her voice cracked. Edelgard went on before she could gather herself enough to say more.

"You won't be kept here long. Thales will bring you to another room for experimental procedures."

                Byleth stared up at her, aghast, unable to believe any of this was real. Just a day ago they had fallen into each others arms, traded heated kisses, and so tenderly chased each other's pleasure, only to fall asleep tangled together and wake to gently trace the lines of each other's scars, and now… Now… "And you're just going to let him carve me up?"

                Edelgard didn't flinch, didn't react at all. Her face was as blank as a mask. She stepped forward, almost close enough to grasp. "Remember what I told you, Byleth… Some chains can't be broken."

                And then the emperor of Adrestia turned on her heel and left Byleth in darkness.

                Byleth wasn't alone for long, though. As soon as the emperor's steps had receded down the hallway, crackling laughter wafted into her cell before turning into a racking cough.

                "Who's there?" Byleth asked.

                The reply came some moments later from a small grate at the top of the wall to her left. "Did you really think you could trust a viper, Professor?" His voice was deep, and, though hoarse, oddly familiar.

                "Dedue?" she ventured.

                "What remains of me."

                Her mind seized on this turn of events, eager to focus on something she could comprehend, a puzzle she could finally unravel. "Were you captured at Gronder with the others?"

                "Yes. With His Highness and my former classmates," Dedue said. His voice was dull with the exhaustion of long captivity. "Though I don't know what's become of them."

                "They're alive," Byleth told him. "Arundel sent them to delay our forces on our way to Enbarr."

                "His Highness is alive?" There was an unmistakeable rise in his voice, as if the news has breathed life back into him.

                "Injured, but alive. Arundel used him to delay our arrival in Enbarr." This was the information she'd been missing all along, the reason the Blue Lions had been so determined to fight and so reluctant to speak: Arundel had kept Dedue as a hostage to ensure their cooperation. "But he's gone mad, Dedue. He's…"

                "He is my liege. That is all that matters."

                "But—"

                "You would not understand. Not when you've thrown in your lot with her." The venom in that single word made it obvious who he meant.

                "Edelgard wasn't responsible for the Tragedy of Duscar. It was the work of her uncle Arundel."

                A muffled sound—a grunt or huff perhaps. "Your words mean little. If she's conspired with him then she's just as responsible."

                The chains binding her clanked as she turned towards the wall Dedue's voice had emerged from. "And because I worked with Edelgard I'm also culpable?"

                "Yes." There was no hesitation.

                "Then so is Dimitri and all your comrades. They all fought for Arundel."

                "He used them," Dedue snarled.

                "Just as he used Edelgard," Byleth countered. "She's not the monster Dimitri made her out to be."

                "If that's so, Professor, then why are you here?"

                And to that, Byleth didn't have an answer.

                They didn't speak again, and, as the hours wore on, her thoughts became more oppressive than the darkness. She'd believed in Edelgard so fervently, trusted her absolutely. She'd shared her most intimate secrets, things she'd never told anyone. It was Edelgard who'd led her to finally think about the future and what she might want for that future. And, as it had turned out, what she'd wanted was Edelgard. Had that all been a lie, a deception? Even in the blackness of the cell with only the faint sound of dripping water and the occasionally shifting of the guard outside or Dedue in the next cell, Byleth couldn't bring herself to believe it.

                Everyone had warned her, all her friends and allies. They'd told her Edelgard couldn't be trusted. And she'd nodded politely and ignored their warnings. Because, after all, she was the professor, the presumptive head of the Church, the Enlightened One to whom the goddess had bestowed all her power. She'd always known better, hadn't she? She'd always been able to read people, to reach what lay in their hearts if she took the time to listen to them. Could she really have been so wrong about what was in Edelgard's heart? But Edelgard could put aside her heart when it was necessary just as she would a suit of armour; Byleth knew this about her. She'd banked not on sentiment, but on the logic of their position, that Byleth's offer was better than any Thales could make.

                Sitting with her knees curled against her chest, the cold began to settle into her joints, making her feel as stiff as a rusty suit of armour—and just as empty. That Edelgard could ignore her tactical analysis was vexing but… She hugged her knees tightly. It was the rest that made her ache, ache down into her bones in ever fibre of her being, far more than the cold and the damp ever could. When she'd been the Ashen Demon she'd felt little at all. That had changed when she'd come to Garreg Mach and met Claude and her Deer. But something had shifted again these past months with Edelgard. She'd felt alive in a way she never had before, and the deep and abiding sense of rightness she'd experienced with Edelgard—to have that be a lie, something that existed only in her overwrought imagination, was unbearable. She loved Edelgard so much. And the thought that Edelgard might have cared for her even a fraction as much and still sacrificed her…

                Byleth let her head drop onto her knees. Edelgard's parting words rang in her thoughts as the darkness gathered around her.

                Some chains can't be broken.

Chapter Text

It was impossible to know whether it was morning when the sound of movement outside her cell door roused Byleth. She'd slept fitfully. Edelgard's face had haunted her in sleep and her words had chorused through her thoughts like a discordant song.

               Some chains can't be broken.

               When the cell door opened, she forced herself to stare into the light. Two figures, the guard and a mage. They stepped into the cell and immediately the mage raised his hands and sent a short shock of magic through her, momentarily stunning her. When her vision cleared, the guard had clamped manacles around her wrists and had moved on to releasing the one around her ankle. She considered using Divine Pulse but she didn't think she'd be able to reach the mage and, now that her eyes were beginning to adjust, she could see more mages in the hallway—her escort, she assumed. She was already sluggish from lack of food and water and couldn't risk using Divine Pulse and further weakening herself unless it was a sure thing.

               "Get up,"  the guard ordered, a club clutched tightly in his left hand. Magic crackled around the mage's fingers for emphasis.

               She rose, forcing her leaden limbs to move, and followed the guard as she was marched out the door. "Where are we going?" she croaked.

               The club prodded her in the back. "No talking."

               The mages fell into formation around her. If her hands had been free or there had been fewer of them she might have tried something, but with so many it was futile. If she had only one desperate chance to strike she would save it for Thales. All of this was because of him. He was responsible for the experiments performed on Edelgard and Lysithea and countless others, for the Duscar Tragedy, and, ultimately, for her father's death. If she had a chance to take out only one of these mages, it would be him.

               The corridors they marched down were mossy stone, illuminated by torches and occasional mage-lamps. A dungeon, clearly. This was not how she'd imagined herself first seeing Enbarr's palace, seeing Edelgard's home.

               Some chains can't be broken.

               The words floated through her mind again as her own chains clinked with every step. Edelgard had said Thales would bring her to a room for experiments. That must be where they were leading her, some other part of the dungeons mostly likely—she couldn't imagine them doing experiments in the palace proper. No, it would be the deepest, furthest, most inaccessible part of the palace, somewhere no one would find her, where rescue was an impossibility.

               Some chains can't be broken.

               She tried to clear her thoughts. She needed to concentrate on her surroundings to be ready when the slightest chance presented itself. But Edelgard’s words continued to echo in her mind louder than the mages’ footfalls resounding through the stone corridor, no matter how much she tried to banish them. If she were still the Ashen Demon she would be able to think clearly and Edelgard’s words wouldn’t hurt so much. More than the raking claws of a wyvern, more than Epimenides’s glowing blade. Even now, as they turned into a dark, narrow corridor with a heavy wooden door at its end, she could still hear Edelgard’s voice, still shivered at the memory of her name on Edelgard’s lips.

               Remember what I told you, Byleth… Some chains can't be broken.

               "Remember what I told you," Byleth murmured.

               Some chains can't be broken.

               But that wasn't what Edelgard had told her.

               Byleth stumbled. The guard behind her gave her a shove and told her to keep moving but Byleth's thoughts were racing faster than her sluggish limbs.

               Remember what I told you, Byleth…

               Of course she remembered—she recalled it in perfect detail, the warmth of Edelgard's skin pressed against hers, the way her arms had wrapped around her like Byleth was the most precious thing in all the world, the way her fierce expression had softened as she'd looked into Byleth's eyes.

               You broke those chains.

               They were rapidly nearing the end of the corridor but Byleth let her head droop so she could glance down at the manacles binding her wrists. She pulled her hands apart slightly, testing, just as the party came to a halt and the wooden door creaked open.

               As she was ushered through the door, Byleth let her gaze sweep the chamber. Epimenides and Thales occupied the centre of the room. She had to force her eyes away from the metallic table with dangling manacles and leather straps and the smaller table on which rested an assortment of sharp implements. A blocky object in one corner pulsed with a greenish glow where it was inscribed with strange sigils. The Sword of the Creator rested atop it. And there, beside it, Edelgard.

               Thales dismissed the guard who hurried out of the chamber while the mages took up positions around the room. One, standing behind her, put a hand on her shoulder, pressing down. "Kneel." When she didn't, a jolt of magic followed that made her knees buckle.

               "We should simply remove the stone and be done with it," Epimenides said.

               "That would be a waste of resources," Thales replied.

               "Resources," Epimenides scoffed.

               As her vision cleared, Byleth held very still, except for her hands, which she moved very slowly so as not to make the chains jangle.

               "You have been away a great deal of time, Lord Epimenides. We've had to employ what's available to us to ensure Shambhala's continued existence. The blood of these monsters is incredibly valuable."

               She positioned her wrists at just the right angle.

               "Nothing can be more important than the Fell Star's destruction. She's finally in our grasp. If we remove the stone now you can give it to your prize dog."

               Edelgard. She meant Edelgard, surely. Edelgard who remained still and silent behind her and to one side, expressing no opinion as Thales and Epimenides debated Byleth's fate.

               You broke those chains. Byleth clung to those words and waited.

               "We should at least test what can be done with her blood. We've been able to accomplish so much with access to the archbishop."

               "You overestimate the value of these monsters, Thales. If you—"

               Byleth took a deep breath and yanked her wrists apart with all her strength. With a ringing crack, the chains gave way.

               She swept the closest mage's legs out from under him and then rolled to one side, coming up near the wall and leaping to her feet. "Byleth!"

               Byleth spun in time to see Edelgard fling the Sword of the Creator towards her. For a beat it sailed through the air in a perfect arc—before Byleth caught it and turned it on their enemies. The mages were badly hampered at close quarters as they attempted to avoid hitting each other with their spells. She sliced through the closest ones like practice dummies. Two more were swiftly dispatched by Edelgard who'd drawn her sword and attacked them from behind.

               "Traitor!" Thales shouted. "You will pay for this betrayal."

               "See what comes of trusting these beasts?" Epimenides retorted, taking stock of the chaos.

               Byleth raised her blade to block a flare of magic and then whipped the Sword of the Creator towards Thales, but it bounced off a magical barrier thrown up by one of the surviving mages. She cast a quick glance to once side, checking for enemies, but found Edelgard cutting her way towards her. She moved towards her, deflecting magical attacks until they were shoulder to shoulder. "There are still those in the palace loyal to me," Edelgard said, just loud enough for Byleth to hear. "If we can reach the ground level—" She was interrupted by a crackle of lightning magic but Byleth nodded and began deflecting magic while Edelgard tried to cut a path towards the door.

               "Do not allow them to leave this room," Epimenides bellowed.

               Thales warped to the other side of the room and erected a barrier spell. Byleth cursed as the sword's whip bounced off of it and the surviving mages rallied around Thales. Edelgard leapt to one side, dodging as the mages dropped the barrier long enough for Thales to launch a globe of dark magic towards her. She had no more time to consider a new plan, though, as Epimenides barrelled towards her, eyes glowing as fiercely as her blade. "You will not leave here alive, Fell Star!"

               But Byleth remembered seeing Epimenides fall to her knees after using her warping ability. She, too, was weakened. But Byleth could fight without Sothis's power and had for most of her life. Unlike  Epimenides, who was so used to relying on her abilities that without them she was reckless, sloppy. Byleth sidestepped before Epimenides reached her and used her free hand to shove her hard. The extra momentum sent her stumbling forward, glowing blade extended, right into Thales's barrier.

               It shattered in a glow of brilliant purple light.

               Edelgard launched herself forward, slicing through the remaining mages and clearing the way. Byleth didn't hesitate. Once again, the Sword of Creator whipped out towards Thales. He cast a hurried spell, attempting to deflect the blade. At the last second it glanced off his spell, and the blade's bony spine angled downward, slicing into his thigh instead of his chest. He fell to one knee, cursing, even as he erected another barrier spell to deflect Edelgard's attack.

               "Let's go!" Byleth called to her.

               Epimenides was back on her feet, lip curled in a sneer. "I won't allow you to slip through my grasp again."

               In a blink, she'd warped to stand next to Thales. For a moment she wavered, propping herself up on the steel tip of her sword, but then she drew back the blade. And before Thales could speak, she thrust the blade forward.

               The sword pierced Thales's back, skewering him like a worm on a hook.

               The black pits of his eyes widened with shock. His mouth opened, but only a gurgle came out, blood spattering his lips. Epimenides's metallic voice echoed discordantly against the chamber walls. "Forgive me, Thales, but without your sacrifice, this world can never be made clean." Dark magic crackled around the two of them, and even at a distance, it raised gooseflesh on Byleth's arms. The air tingled against her skin for a moment like a swarm of tiny needles before the dark magic expanded in an arc, cutting her off from the doorway, encircling her and Edelgard and Epimenides.

               "O great Zahras," Epimenides intoned, "veil of night in the abyss! By the laws of creation, throw wide your infernal gates and swallow my foes!"

               Byleth tried to snatch Edelgard's arm but the dark magic bound her limbs, rooting them to the spot. She found the violet of Edelgard's eyes before the magic snapped… and carried her into darkness.

Chapter Text

Byleth woke in darkness. The surface beneath her was cold stone and she was seized by a sudden fear that all of it—breaking her chains, fighting alongside Edelgard again, being engulfed by Epimenides's magic—had been nothing but a dream, the delusion of a fevered mind. But when she pushed herself up she found the darkness was not absolute, and a short distance away a splash of crimson caught her eye.

                Groping for her sword, the clank of chains startled her until she looked down and realized the manacles were still locked around her wrists. An inconvenience she could deal with later. She banished it from her mind and, the moment she'd found her sword, leaped to her feet. "Edelgard!" Her voice rang hollowly in the darkness.

                She could see more clearly now. The darkness wasn't truly empty, but rather was filled with rocky formations, like towers of obsidian. For a second, the spot of red disappeared behind one of these. Byleth was about to call out again but then all at once she stepped out from behind the dark crag—the emperor of Adrestia, adorned in imperial gold and crimson, a horned crown atop her head. Edelgard.

                Edelgard hurried towards her and Byleth raced to meet her. They met and fell into each other's arms in an embrace so fierce it emptied the air from her lungs. Edelgard's familiar warmth enveloped her and, even in the darkness of Zahras, Byleth felt content.

                Edelgard drew back to look into her eyes, hand pressed to her cheek. "I was afraid you wouldn't understand my message."

                Byleth raised a hand and jangled the broken chain. "I'll admit it did take me a bit."

                "Forgive me," Edelgard said softly. "It was the only way I could think of to—"

                Byleth didn't let her finish. Instead, she pressed her lips to Edelgard's, full of relief and gratitude in equal measure. Edelgard had not betrayed her, had not sacrificed her. Edelgard did care for her, and the future where they changed the world together was still within reach. She kissed her a little desperately and longer than she should have, given their circumstances, but she needed the reassurance that this was real, that Edelgard was really here in her arms again.

                When Byleth drew back, Edelgard was breathless and her cheeks were as scarlet as her dress, and for a beat they remained like that, gazing into each other's eyes. But finally Edelgard gave herself a shake and, looking slightly abashed, stepped away from Byleth. "We should attend to our surroundings."

                "Right," Byleth agreed, thinking how the Ashen Demon would never have been so distracted—and how glad she was to no longer be the Ashen Demon.

                "Do you know where we are, what that spell was?"

                Byleth's brow furrowed. "I think it was the same spell Solon used at the academy."

                "When you were… changed?" Edelgard said, reaching out to finger a lock of Byleth's hair.

                Byleth nodded. "Though back then the darkness was formless, empty." She reached out and tapped the nearest rocky outcrop. "This place has substance." Last time, too, she'd only been able to escape thanks to Sothis. But now… "We should move. Get a better idea of our situation." Edelgard nodded and fell into step beside her. "What did I miss while I was…"

                "Imprisoned?" Edelgard supplied. "You can say it. Truly, I do regret putting you through that ordeal." And then, softly, "I know what it is to be in chains. I, too, was once held beneath Enbarr."

                She tried to imagine the restraint it must have taken Edelgard to keep her distance when she'd come to Byleth's cell, when Byleth had asked her if she intended to let Thales experiment on her. She didn't reply but reached out and let her fingers trail along Edelgard's cheek.

                Her chains jangled. "Sorry," she said. And then, "You tampered with them?"

                Edelgard nodded. "I ensured that the guard sent to you was loyal to me and that the chains he used had been weakened." She hesitated for beat and then, taking a breath, "As you know, Lord Arundel had been attempting to communicate with me during our campaign." She grimaced. "His efforts only intensified as we drew closer to the capital, and finally I felt it was necessary to reply." Byleth didn't ask what Arundel—or Thales rather—had threatened her with; she could well imagine. "Arundel wanted you alive."

                "And that's what you offered after you knocked me out?"

                "Yes. From what I've been able to gather, Thales and Epimenides have been at odds with one another, and their followers are divided. They worked together, but only grudgingly, and their aims were not always the same. Epimenides's plan would have seen you killed on the battlefield but Thales preferred to capture you alive as they did Rhea. To—" She waved a hand vaguely. "Study you or use your blood as they did hers, I suppose." As they walked, the dark crags around them disappeared into the darkness above. There were no markers, no way to tell if they were making progress or simply moving in an endless circle. Edelgard sighed. "I suspect Thales realized that Epimenides had been weakened by her injury. In any case, what he finally offered me was my throne if I could deliver you alive."

                Byleth stared at her, incredulous. "And he really believed you'd take that offer? After everything he did?"

                Edelgard gave her a pointed look. "A great many people have no doubt that I would."

                Smiling, Byleth reached out to squeeze her hand. "But you didn't."

                Edelgard came to a halt and turned to face Byleth. "But you must know… I considered it."

                She brought Edelgard's hand to her lips. "I know," she said softly. "But I stand by what I said: your chances are better with me. I won't betray you. I'll stand by your side and build a better Fódlan with you."

                A tiny smile curled Edelgard's lips. "You're far too convincing." And then gesturing to their surroundings, "But I'm afraid your promises won't do us much good if we remain trapped here."

                "Fair point. Just give me one minute," she added and saw about removing the manacles. The chains would hamper her in a fight but the Sword of the Creator, when it was glowing with the power of her crest, could cut through steel. A little careful maneuvering and she'd broken the lock on each manacle and the chains fell to her feet. "Let's go," she said and they continued on their way.

                The jet-black crags loomed around them, creating wide paths that all looked  the same as they wandered through them. It was only when Edelgard pulled a flask from her pocket and offered it to her, that Byleth realized how parched she was. She accepted the flask and forced herself to take small, measured sips. When Edelgard produced several biscuits, Byleth gave her a look, one eyebrow raised. "Does the emperor normally carry around travel rations?" She munched on one of the biscuits. She could go for days without food when necessary but she never said no when offered something to eat.

                Edelgard flushed. "No, but when I was planning our escape I realized you would be in a poor state after your imprisonment so I procured a few items just in case."

                And in spite of the oppressive darkness, Byleth couldn't help but smile. "Thank you, Edelgard."

                Waving her hand to dismiss the gesture, Edelgard opened her mouth to speak but then halted in her tracks. One hand went to her sword, the other pointed to something ahead of them. Byleth squinted into the darkness and, in the distance, could just make out something less black than the surrounding stone. She drew her own sword and, with a nod to Edelgard, advanced with slow, quiet steps.

                As they drew closer, the form on the ground became clear—and recognisable. Epimenides. Yet she was different. The purple glow that had always surrounded her had vanished, as had the glowing markings on her face. She looked like an ordinary human.

                Byleth kept her blade at Epimenides's throat as she leaned down slightly, trying to determine if her enemy's chest still rose and fell, but it was clear enough when she stirred, eyes fluttering open.

                "Stay very still," Byleth said, her voice as chill as the jet stone surrounding them.

                Epimenides's eyes widened. "Whoa there. Sure, right, no sudden moves, I got it."

                Byleth blinked and her brow folded into a frown. Instead of the metallic and faintly masculine tone she was accustomed to, the words were spoken in a normal—if rather alarmed—female voice.

                "Would you mind at least telling me where I am and what’s going on?" Epimenides said.

                Edelgard stepped closer, blade outstretched. "We should be asking you that since you're the one who brought us here."

                Epimenides flinched. "You're—" She cursed, her face blanching. "You're the emperor of Adrestia, the one who started the war, aren't you?"

                Edelgard scowled down at her, the tip of her blade coming to rest over Epimenides's heart. "This ruse is growing tiresome, Epimenides."

                Epimenides's eyes flicked up to Edelgard's face then back down to her blade. "I think there's been a mistake. I'm Shez. I'm just a merc. From Berling's Mercenaries. You don't need to skewer me. I can work for the empire too. My rates are reasonable. Very reasonable!"

                "Shez," Byleth repeated.

                "That's me," Shez said, eyes turning to Byleth. "Who are you?"

                "I'm Byleth Eisner." Her sword tip never wavered.

                Shez's brow crumpled. "Like the leader of the Church forces?"

                "Enough of these games." Edelgard's voice had turned as icy as a Faerghus winter. If it had been anyone else Byleth might have worried for their prisoner's life but she knew Edelgard would never strike out of impatience or even fury. Her heart did not control her hand. "We've met many times on the battlefield, yet now you claim to be someone else entirely? What do you hope to gain?"

                For a beat, Shez's eyes clouded over as if she were trying to recall a fading dream. "Okay that… sort of… rings a bell. Kind of. But it's all fuzzy. The last thing I remember clearly was the battle at Myrddin. I was blown over the side of the bridge by some mage. I remember hitting the water and going under and then…" She shook her head and Byleth's blade pressed into her throat, enough to draw a tiny ribbon of blood.

                "Don't move."

                "Right. Not moving. But are you sure this isn't the afterlife? I know us mercenaries aren't supposed to end up in the nice shiny place but being stuck in a cave with a villainous emperor and the head of the Church wasn't really what I was expecting either."

                "Villainous emperor?" Byleth repeated. When she glanced at her, Edelgard only shrugged.

                "Yeah, didn't she depose her own father and then declare war on the Church?" Sweat beaded her brow as her eyes darted to Edelgard. "They even say you turn prisoners into monsters to fight for your army. Is that what I'm here for?"

                Edelgard sighed. "I neither use prisoners for my army, nor did I depose my father. He gave up the throne willingly before his death. If this is an attempt to delay until your allies arrive, I'm afraid it's futile. There is no one in this void but the three of us."

                Not entirely true.

                The voice seemed to come from the void, but it was the metallic one she recognised, Epimenides's voice. Byleth spun in time to see a being materialize from thin air. He donned robes white like bleached bone with skin and hair to match, and was wreathed in a crown of flame that glowed without burning. She blocked the blow from the being's flaming blade.

                "Curse you, Fell Star," the being snarled in a voice that was all too familiar to her.

                Edelgard, too, had turned to face their new foe, and Shez, no longer at swordpoint, sat up and stared at the white-clad being. "That voice," she said. "You're… you're the voice in my head, the one I heard after I hit the water. You said I couldn't drown because I was… a vessel." She rubbed her head as if trying to coax out some recalcitrant memory. "I thought a vessel like a boat, but you meant…"

                "A vessel for my consciousness," Epimenides said. "I have passed my consciousness down through the ages. You, who were born of Shambhala, were the successor to that consciousness. All for the purpose of saving our people, the true people of this land, and destroying the beast which set the earth ablaze." His gaze turned to Byleth as he spoke and his ember-bright eyes blazed with disdain.

                Byleth's free hand rested over her unbeating heart. Sothis. It all came down to her. Yet the Sothis she'd known had had no memory of her past, neither of her deeds nor her enemies. The source of Epimenides's hatred, and that of Thales and the others would remain a mystery, it seemed. "I'll fight you if you want, but release them from this place," she said, gesturing towards Edelgard and Shez.

                "Don't be absurd," Edelgard snapped, coming to stand next to her.

                "I'm afraid the Forbidden Spell of Zahras is a one-way journey. None can escape this eternal darkness."

                Edelgard raised her sword. "I've been told that before and the proof of the lie stands beside me."

                "And," Byleth added, "I can't imagine you'd want to stay trapped here too." She whipped the Sword of the Creator towards Epimenides, but he warped away.

                "I have other matters to attend to, but tell me, how far are you willing go in order to reach me? Will you cut down those dearest to you?"

                Epimenides vanished, but the telltale hum of a warp spell—no, several—told her that something else had taken his place. She scanned the darkness only to see a trio of shapes. One, difficult to make out as it was cloaked in black, an armoured figure she didn't recognise, and—

                If her heart had been beating she was certain it would've stopped then and there. The hulking third figure was one she could never mistake. It was her father.

Chapter Text

Jeralt. Her father. He stood before her looking just as he always had: tall, broad, scruffy, not at all the sort of person who looked like he'd once been a Captain of the Knights of Seiros. He'd taught her how to use a sword, how to fight, how to read a battlefield. He'd protected her from their enemies and from Rhea herself. He'd done everything he could for her, and she'd never once told him how grateful she was, how much he'd meant to her.

               "Is that Captain Berling?" Shez's voice pulled Byleth out of her stupor.

               "They're illusions," Edelgard said.

               Of course they were illusions; Byleth knew that. She'd watched them lower her father's body into the earth in Garreg Mach's little cemetery.

               "How can you be sure?" Shez asked. "What if they got sucked in here just like us?"

               "Because," Edelgard said, "this Hubert has all his fingers. And Jeralt is…"

               She caught Edelgard's fleeting glance and forced herself to finish the thought. "Dead."

               Shez still looked conflicted. "Are you're really sure we're not all dead too? That this isn't just some sort of afterlife punishment?"

               Edelgard huffed. "If it is, I was prepared to face much worse."

               Byleth took a deep breath and forced herself to look past the figures and see the battlefield as a whole. "It's a delay tactic," Byleth announced. "Epimenides is trying to rattle us and prevent us from reaching him." She turned to give Shez a long look. "Can you still fight?"

               Shez's brow furrowed. "Yeah I think—" She closed her eyes. A few seconds passed and Byleth was going to ask if she was well, but then the glowing purple sword appeared in her hand. Byleth drew back, raising her blade in a guard position, but when Shez's eyes opened they were normal—they didn't glow like embers and there was no enmity in her gaze. "Oh sorry," she said, noticing Byleth's alarm. "I sort of remember being able to do that while Epimenides was controlling me so I wanted to see if I still could." She looked out towards the three figures. They hadn't advanced, though they shifted, made small movements, just as real, living people would. "So I guess I have to fight Captain Berling?"

               Byleth nodded. "I'll deal with Jeralt."

               "And I'll handle Hubert," Edelgard said and, without waiting any longer, strode towards him.

               Hubert's face shifted from his normally dour expression to one of disbelief. "Lady Edelgard, the professor is right next to you. Strike her down now and you will end the war."

               Edelgard shook her head. "I'm afraid the situation has changed."

               Black and purple flames gathered around his fingers. "Then I must take matters into my own hands."

               Byleth forced herself to turn away from Edelgard's battle and focus on her own. Jeralt—or rather the image of Jeralt—shook his head. "Is this what it's come to, kid? You're really going to fight your old man?"

               Byleth continued to advance. "You're not my father."

               He showed no sign of backing down, spear clasped tightly in his hands. "You sure about that? Instead of fighting, why don't we catch up? I want to hear everything I've missed."

               "Then step aside and let me pass."

               He pointed the spear at her. "You know I can't do that. Don't force my hand, kid."

                Byleth charged.

               Jeralt fought just as she remembered from a thousand training sessions. His bulky form belied the grace of his movements and the brutal efficiency of every strike. He used the reach of his weapon to best effect, keeping her at a distance, making it harder for her to land a solid blow, forcing her to deflect his, over and over. He never wasted momentum or a single movement. The spear was like a part of him and his attacks were as sharp at his blade.

               She tried to tell herself it was like their old sparring sessions, but he'd never scowled at her so, the deadly focus of his gaze, an expression she'd only ever seen levelled at their enemies. Not at her. Her father had slain countless soldiers in his years of fighting, but never once had he ever harmed her.

               She'd been the Ashen Demon for so long and all that time, in the quiet gray fog that had been her existence before Garreg Mach, she'd been unable to tell him how much he meant to her, how thankful she was that he was her father. She'd come, too late, to understand love. She understood it now but she'd known she would never have the chance to tell him, that she would never see his face again or hear his gruff voice calling her "kid".

               And now to see him again—like this, a lie, a travesty of everything he'd been… It took all Byleth's will to hold herself in check as something clawed at her throat, some emotion she couldn't name, that made her eyes water and her lips pull back in a snarl.

               His skill was impeccable, but she still had her strength to rely on. When she saw an opening she struck with all of her might, the power of the Crest of Flame flowing through her arms and driving her sword against his spear, striking with such force that it sent him rolling backward. The spear clattered onto the stones. Jeralt groaned. "Can't believe you'd turn on me, kid."

               "You're not real," Byleth snarled. "Jeralt—My father—would never fight me."

                His arm moved, reaching for the spear, and she whipped the Sword of the Creator towards him. The squelch of shredded flesh and the crunch of snapping bones reached her ears a moment before Jeralt's scream. He lay on the ground, clutching his mangled arm and she forced herself to look away and walk past him, deeper into the darkness of Zahras.

               The swish of a blade quickly drawn made her spin on her heel, sword raised, just in time to see the throwing knife clutched in his left hand—and the sword tip protruding from his stomach. Edelgard stood behind him, grasping the Sword of Seiros.

               And then Jeralt faded away, his shape growing dimmer, the surprised look on his face vanishing as his features melted into the darkness until all that was left was the outline of his broad shoulders… and then nothing. Jeralt was gone and only Edelgard remained.

               Byleth felt like some part of her was about to spill out into the blackness of Zahras to join Jeralt. She forced herself to take a long breath to centre herself. When she met Edelgard's eyes there was a softness there she knew Edelgard reserved only for her. "Thank you," Byleth whispered.

               Edelgard nodded and crossed the distance between them. A moment later Shez joined them, her face crumpled into a frown. "That had better not have been the real Captain Berling."

               "It wasn't," Byleth assured her—and herself, if truth be told. "There's nothing here but the three of us and Epimenides."

               "Guess he likes yanking people's chains for fun, huh?" Shez says as they began to walk, following what might have been a rocky path.

               Byleth shook her head. "It's more than that. I'm sure that Epimenides doesn't intend to remain in Zahras with us. He must be planning to leave somehow. These phantoms are meant to delay us just as much as to rattle us."

               "We must reach him no matter what illusions he puts in our way," Edelgard said.

               "Right," Shez agreed. "Maybe he left something in my head that would help. Hold on a sec…" She squeezed her eyes shut, her whole face scrunching up with concentration. "Epimenides knew something about this place. I think it… isn't really solid? So where we are and where Epimenides is… is… the same?" But even as the words left her lips, the darkness began to shift and change around them. It swirled and wavered like a warp spell cast by a novice, but when the world stabilized around them they were somewhere new. The black stone around them was marked with glyphs that pulsed a sickly green light. And there was Epimenides in the centre of it all standing on a glyph-engraved dais, his lips moving as if whispering the words of an incantation. A tiny whirlpool of silver light, no bigger than a ring, had appear in air before him and Byleth was certain he was conjuring an exit.

               He started at the sight of them but recovered immediately, sneering down from his dais. "What a fine band of murderers you all are. I didn't realize you would cut down your loved ones so easily."

               "Enough of your games," Edelgard said, stepping forward. "Return us to Enbarr."

               "Pitiful girl, you will never reclaim your throne. You will wither here alongside the Fell Star."

               Shez looked from Edelgard to Byleth. "Does anyone mind if I kill him? Because I think he owes me one for treating me like a puppet all this time."

               A huff of laughter from Epimenides. "You're nothing without my power, but if you're so eager to kill, I can provide you with something."

               Three more figures appeared in the empty space between them and the dais, though this time they were far too easy to recognise. Before them stood a perfect double of each of them, right down to the weapons they carried.

               "He's stalling for time," Byleth said. "We need to defeat him before he can complete his spell and leave us here."

               Shez raised both of her blades. "Well let's hurry up and kill these things." And after a beat, "And avoid killing each other too."

               "Perhaps each of us should take on our own double to prevent confusion," Edelgard suggested.

               Byleth nodded and advanced towards the other Byleth. It was strange to see a twin of herself. The set of her shoulders was relaxed but her muscles were taut with readiness, a predator about to strike. The Sword of the Creator, clasped in her double's hands glowed like a hot poker. But was her expression always so fearsome, so devoid of feeling? Was her gaze really that blank, as if the body there were simply a shell with no human soul behind it? Was this the face of the Ashen Demon or her own? Was there any difference?

               Giving herself a shake, Byleth banished all her questions, all her doubts; there was no space for them on the battlefield.

               The other Byleth strode to meet her. She didn't speak and the moment she was within range she lunged at Byleth. The two glowing blades met like a thunderclap, the sound reverberating through the darkness. They broke apart. Byleth attacked; her opponent parried. One of them struck, the other countered. On and on in a steady rhythm. She was getting nowhere, but that was exactly what Epimenides wanted.

               She darted a glance at Epimenides. The silver whirlpool had grown and was now the size of a fist. They needed to finish this faster.

               "Shez!" she called over her shoulder. "Switch with me!"

               "What?"

               Byleth blocked her twin's furious blows, arms straining against strength that was the match of her own. "Fight my double. I’ll deal with yours."

               "How do I know you're the real one?" Shez called back.

               "Because I'm not interested in keeping up this stalemate," Byleth replied as she fended off her double.

               "All right," Shez said, still sounding skeptical, "let's go!"

               Shez leaped away from her opponent just as Byleth managed to shove away her double. She raced towards the other Shez who raised both her swords in a defensive position. "Hey wait, wait! You're after the wrong Shez!"

               Byleth attacked. Shez blocked. Shez was quick, just as quick as Epimenides had been, though without his influence she was less ferocious in her counterstrikes, her movements a bit less assured. "We don't need to fight," Shez said as she parried.

               "Then lower your weapons," Byleth replied.

               Shez grimaced. "You'll kill me."

               Byleth struck. "Only if you're the fake."

               Shez riposted. "But how can you be sure?"

               She answered with her blade.

               Byleth was fairly sure that the correct Shez had switched with her, that this one was trying to play on her emotions just as the false Jeralt had. They were running out of time; she had to risk it.

               Shez parried and Byleth ceded the advantage, allowing Shez to set the pace of their fight. She was fast, but brash and Byleth reigned in her strength. If she truly was different from Epimenides, then she wouldn't know Byleth was holding back. She went on the defensive, blocking and countering, but making a show of never being able to find an opening. There was a gleam in Shez's eye—not the glowing embers of Epimenides's power, but the triumph of someone who believes their opponent outmatched and near defeat. Byleth kept her features neutral and let Shez press the advantage.

               Shez landed a particularly fierce blow and Byleth let it send her flying backwards. She stumbled and landed on the unyielding stone. Shez leaped towards her, ready to land the killing blow—just as Byleth whipped the Sword of the Creator towards her, striking her in mid-air. She fumbled, deflecting with her glowing blade, but it left her unbalanced and she landed in a heap within a hand's grasp of Byleth. Byleth's arm shot out. The blade pierced her opponent.

               Shez's eyes widened with shock as she stared down at the blade in her chest, blood oozing from the wound, slowing trickling down the sword's ivory length.

               Byleth's breath caught. What if she'd been wrong? She could use Divine Pulse, but would she still be strong enough afterward to defeat the double and Epimenides? She could feel the threads of time brushing against her fingertips. She could grasp them and—

               The shape at the end of her blade grew dimmer, faded, and disappeared.

               Byleth's relief was immediate—and short-lived as the real Shez called out to her. "Can we switch back? I don't think I like fighting you."

               "I'm done here," Byleth replied, scrambling to her feet to survey the battlefield.

               Shez was fending off Byleth's double, but with some difficulty. "You mean you killed me—it—whatever?"

               "Yes. I'll take over fighting my double," Byleth said as she raced to intervene.

               "She's all yours," Shez said, leaping back to let Byleth step into the other Byleth's path. "I'm going after Epimenides. I owe him one for what he did to me."

               She hoped Shez knew enough to take care against an opponent like Epimenides, but there was no time to debate the point. The whirling magic he was conjuring had grown to the size of a dinner plate. They were running out of time.

               She'd expected the other Byleth to go immediately on the attack but instead she raced away from Byleth. Away from her, and towards the two Edelgards.

               Byleth whipped the Sword of the Creator towards her double, but she dodged nimbly away and barrelled towards the emperors who were locked in fierce combat. "Edelgard, look out!" she called even as she tore after her double. The Edelgards broke apart just in time to avoid the double's attack, the whip-like form of her blade gouging the jet stone where it struck. They spun to face their new attacker, and Byleth's double was soon fending off strident attacks from both Edelgards.

               When Byleth joined the fray a moment later, she'd positioned herself to attack her double from one side, but instead one of the Edelgards broke away and turned to face her.

               "Edelgard?" Byleth said, wary, shoulders tensed and ready.

               "Byleth, are you all right?" Edelgard's hair was coming loose from her crown, and sweat dribbled down the side of her face, her breath coming quickly. Did the doubles sweat? Did they become winded? Surely though if they could bleed then they could mimic these things, too. Byleth kept her sword raised in a guard position. There was only one way to really know if she was real.

               She tilted her chin towards the other two combatants. "Let's go after Epimenides while they're distracted."

               "Our new friend seems to have it under control." Edelgard lowered her blade. "I don't want to see you injured again."

               A wistful smile played across Byleth's lips. And then she attacked.

               Edelgard's sword shot up to block, her form perfect. "Are you so certain I'm your enemy?"

               "The real Edelgard would never let someone else fight in our place."

               Byleth struck again and when she countered, Edelgard held back none of her strength, hammering blows against Byleth's blade. Sparks danced in the darkness between them. The ringing of their blades, of the Sword of Seiros and the Sword of the Creator, jangled in a discordant melody.  

               "I suppose this was always how it was going to end," Edelgard said as their swords met and grated against one another. "You are a weapon of the goddess and I, one crafted by her enemies."

               "No," Byleth managed through gritted teeth. Edelgard's strength was ferocious, a match for her own; she'd almost forgotten. "I don't accept that. We can cut our own path. Together."

               "We tried and look where it got us—cast into eternal darkness."

               She parried, keeping a keen watch on Edelgard's movements. She'd defeated Edelgard before. She knew her fighting style, the way she moved; she had tells, tells Byleth would have caught and corrected if she'd been Edelgard's teacher. "Edelgard and I are going to escape this place and build Fódlan's future together." She saw Edelgard's muscles bunch before a strike. This was her chance. Edelgard lunged; Byleth sidestepped. "And I won't let anything get in the way of that!" She drove her blade forward.

               She felt the familiar give of flesh yielding to the jagged edge of her sword. She didn't look down at the double, didn't want the image engraved in her mind of Edelgard's shock and pain, even as the figure slumped forward against her. Byleth kept her eyes up and waited for the double to fade, though every breath felt like an age.

               And then it was gone, the weight against her lifted, no body, no blood, no sign that she'd been fighting anyone at all. She turned and looked for Edelgard.

               Edelgard was still locked in combat with Byleth's double, sparks leaping from their swords as they clashed with the same discordant melody that had rung in Byleth's ears until a few moments ago. It was strange to see it from the outside and she wondered if she truly looked so fearsome in battle, like a monster, like a demon.

               She moved towards them, ready to assist Edelgard, but paused as she remembered Edelgard's double suggesting they hang back, just as Jeralt's double had suggested they talk instead of fight. Their primary goal wasn't to fight but simply to prevent anyone from reaching Epimenides. And so, even though every part of her wanted to assist Edelgard, to intervene and prevent any chance of her double doing to the real Edelgard what she'd done to the double, Byleth made a point of turning towards the dais where Shez and Epimenides were clashing while the silvery swirl he'd summoned had expanded even further. "Edelgard!" she called as she began to run. "I'm going after Epimenides."

               She leaped to one side as heard the cracking of the Sword of the Creator's bony whip shooting towards her. When she spun she was just in time to see her double drop to her knees, blood pouring from a jagged slash in her neck. Her expression never looked more than mildly surprised. And then she, too, was gone, leaving behind only Edelgard.

               Byleth held out a hand to her and Edelgard hurried to join her, squeezing those proffered fingers with obvious relief. "You knew she would come after you," she said.

               "I was pretty sure," Byleth said with a nod. And then, turning towards the dais, "Let's finish this."

               A curt nod and Edelgard fell into step next to her.

               The jagged rock around the dais was pierced by blocks and columns of smooth stone engraved with green glyphs. Their pulsing light made Byleth's stomach churn as it seemed almost to whisper to her with palpable malevolence. Shez hammered blows against the barrier spell Epimenides had erected while, behind him, the swirling silver whirlpool continued to expand.

               "Stop resisting," Epimenides said, arms raised as he poured magic into the barrier. "You are a child of Agartha. You should be grateful to serve your people and rid the world of the beast that has so long enslaved it."

               "I've got no clue what you're talking about." Shez's glowing blade slashed against his shield. Its surface rippled.

               Byleth and Edelgard fell into place on either side of Shez, battering the shield with swordstrikes. Within moments, it failed.

               A cluster of dark magic spheres formed in Epimenides's palms and he sent them flying. "Curse you, Fell Star!" Byleth dodged away, as did Edelgard, but Shez deflected with her glowing blade and leaped at Epimenides. "Child of Agartha, lay down you arms and we can return to the world together."

               Shez attacked, forcing Epimenides to shield himself with his magic. "And be your puppet again? I don't think so."

               Byleth caught Edelgard's eye and made a circular motion with her hand. Edelgard nodded and headed to the left as Byleth moved to the right, circling Epimenides while he was focussed on Shez.

               "You fool!" he snarled at her. "Why must you resist me so?"

               Byleth struck and Epimenides only barely managed to raised a magical shield to block her, but he was not swift enough to extend it far enough to completely block Edelgard's attack. Her blade skidded off his partially formed shield and caught his shoulder. He staggered and Shez pushed forward, one blade catching his exposed side. His shield dropped. Her glowing blade darted forward… and sliced through him.

               He gasped. There was no blood. Instead, tendrils of dark magic oozed from his wounds. He dropped to his knees but his glowing eyes glared up at them, hatred written in every feature. "Destroying me… will not free you," he gasped out.  "You will all still be trapped in this place."

               "The spell," Edelgard said, pointing. The swirling silver light was slowing, as if its whirlpool of magic were dissipating.

               A laugh escaped Epimenides's lips before dissolving into a cough. "You do not have… the power necessary… to fuel the spell." His voice was growing faint, barely more than a whisper as his strength left him and he collapsed, the eerie glow of the glyphs giving his pale form a sickly hue as magic continued to pour out of him. "To escape here you would need…" The dark energy slowed, dispersing in the air like motes of dust, and then Epimenides was gone.

               "The power of a god," Byleth finished.

               "Good riddance," Shez said, foot prodding the spot Epimenides had occupied a moment earlier. But Byleth's attention was on the spell he'd been summoning, their only way out. She advanced towards it.

               "Byleth?" There was an edge of uncertainty to Edelgard's voice.

               "I'm going to try to get us out of here," Byleth said, reaching towards the silvery magic. Sothis had been able to escape Zahras. If she'd truly passed all her power on to her, then perhaps Byleth could do the same and rescue them all from this place. She turned to face Edelgard again. "I don't know that it will work… or what will happen to me."

               Concern flashed across Edelgard's features. "Perhaps there's another way."

               Byleth shook her head. "There's no time. Edelgard…"

               Edelgard closed her eyes, nodding. "I understand."

               Byleth reached for Edelgard's hand and brought those slender fingers to her lips. They'd already said everything they needed to. She let her gaze hold Edelgard's for a long moment, drawing strength from the warmth in those violet eyes she so loved… before she turned to the mass of silvery magic and jammed her hand into it.

               Instantly she felt a force pushing against her, forcing her back into the darkness of Zahras. She pushed back and it was a if she were trying to shove her entire being through the eye of a needle. But she was no ordinary being; Sothis had granted her all of her power. Always she'd channelled it through her crest, through her blade, or through Divine Pulse, but now she summoned the soul of Sothis and poured it into this swirling hole in reality.

               The magic writhed around her, filling her vision and trying at once to push her back and pull her in until she felt like she was being torn asunder, shredded into a thousand fragments, but she continued to pour Sothis's power into the void.

               And then all at once the silvery light was gone and she saw herself in another place, a throne room adorned with the gold and scarlet double-headed eagle of Adrestia. Edelgard, dishevelled, bloodied, wielding the Sword of Seiros, charged at her. Byleth watched herself strike her down, bringing the emperor to her knees. Breathing ragged, Edelgard's violet eyes rose to meet hers. "Your path lies across my grave."

               Byleth watched herself raise the Sword of the Creator.

               No!

               Byleth shoved the vision away, though it tried to cling to her, to encircle her limbs and crawl down her throat like a poisonous miasma.  No, we chose another path. We chose to walk together. I won't give that up!

               She summoned every wisp of power she had and expelled the vision from her being. And then she poured that power into the darkness of Zahras.

               Until it shattered.

Chapter Text

One moment Edelgard was in Zahras, and next to her, Byleth was glowing  with golden light as she poured power into the swirling vortex of magical energy, and the next—

               The dungeons beneath Enbarr. There was no mistaking them; Edelgard knew this place too well. It was the same room they'd been taken from, but the bodies of Thales and his mages had been removed, though rusty splotches on the stone floor remained as a evidence of the battle. She turned just in time to see Byleth waver on her feet and collapse.

               The Sword of Seiros dropped from her hands as she ran to her.

               "Byleth!" She fell to her knees next to her and gathered Byleth in her arms. She reached for her side where Epimenides had wounded her at Myrrdin, but there was no trace of blood. Byleth's face was drained of colour and she felt unnaturally still in Edelgard's arms. It was as if her very life had been syphoned out of her. She leaned down, pressing her ear to Byleth's chest. Edelgard's heart lurched; Byleth's lungs were as still as her heart.

               Her eyes stung. It was a sensation she'd nearly forgotten after so many years, but then fat tears were streaming down her cheeks. "Byleth…" she whispered, the word no more than a strangled sob. That mere days ago Byleth had lain in her arms, all tenderness and warmth, had pressed her lips so gently to all the broken parts of her and promised a future they would build together—and that now she could be as still in her arms as…

               As a corpse.

               All thanks to the goddess and Epimenides. These petty gods that saw fit to take away everything she had ever loved, who were as indifferent to human suffering as the cold stone beneath her. But even her anger couldn't wash away the swell of loss that flooded through her, closing her throat with choked sobs. She would never feel the warmth of Byleth's arms encircle her again, or see the tiny smile that curled her lips when something amused her, the stubborn set of her jaw when she was determined to foolishly risk her life, the tilt of her head when she was curious or confused. She would never again feel those lips, warm and inviting, against hers, or hear the low thrum of her voice promising a brighter future.

               It was unbearable.

               Was it wishful thinking then that, for an instant, she thought she'd felt Byleth stir? Vision blurred by tears, breath coming raggedly, Edelgard forced herself to check once more, to be certain once and for all, and pressed her ear to Byleth's chest.

               Edelgard froze. She had hoped—so desperately hoped—for the sound of a breath, a single breath, but instead what reached her ears was a thump. And then another. The rhythmic double-pulse of… a heartbeat.

               Her eyes widened. She tilted her head up to Byleth's face and felt a wisp of breath from Byleth's lips.

               Alive.

               She hugged Byleth tightly to her, sobbing and laughing in turn, giddy with relief. "Oh you're alive! Byleth…"

               Byleth stirred and then those arms that had been lying limp at her sides rose and encircled Edelgard. "I'm all right," Byleth whispered, her voice hoarse. "What happened? Did it work?"

               "Yes. We're back in Enbarr, but you collapsed and…" She drew back to look into Byleth's face and started in surprise: her hair had returned to its original dark tint, and her eyes were once again the deep sea-blue Edelgard remembered from the academy. "How do you feel?" She was both elated and terrified of the answer, of what this all meant.

               "Weak," Byleth said. She raised a hand to her chest. "And strange."

               "But you're alive," Edelgard said, pushing a lock of dark hair back from Byleth's eyes.

               Byleth's fingers brushed against her cheek, lingering on the moisture there. "Sorry if I gave you a scare."

               The sound of a throat being cleared very loudly made Edelgard flush up to ears. She and Byleth both turned to find Epimenides—or Shez rather—standing at the far end of the room, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. "Sorry to interrupt," Shez said, "but where are we and what's going on? I mean I'm glad you're alive and all, but this place looks kind of like a dungeon and there are blood stains all over the floor and I was kind of hoping we could get out of here…"

               Edelgard nodded. "I agree. That would be for the best." She turned back to Byleth. "Can you walk?"

               "I… think so."

               The hesitation was enough to make her not take any chances. Edelgard slung one of Byleth's arms around her shoulders, taking her weight as she hefted her onto her feet. She was still pale, and Edelgard wasn't going to take any chance of her collapsing again.

               Shez was staring at them, brow furrowed. "So I guess I missed a lot while that Epimenides guy was using me as a puppet, but the last thing I remember, the emperor and the Church were at war, and you guys seems awfully… chummy."

               She returned her attention to Shez, her face settling into the mask of the Adrestian Emperor. "It would be best for everyone if you kept that to yourself." Her tone left no room for argument.

               Shez swallowed hard. "Okay sure. It'll be just between us."

               "As for our current situation… Several months ago Epimenides staged a coup and took the reins of the empire along with my uncle, Lord Arundel. I escaped with part of my  forces and formed a pact with the Alliance and with General Eisner as presumptive leader of the Church."

               "Okay, I follow," Shez said nodding. "So why are we in a dungeon?"

               "We were captured during an attack on Enbarr." She raised a hand to forestall further questions. "While we may have defeated Epimenides and Thales, many of their allies will still be here. I need to make contact with my forces and seize control of the palace. As for you… Shez…" She hesitated a moment, considering whether everything this woman had told them was true. Was Epimenides really gone? If he was not, then could he return and control Shez again? Could all this have been a ruse?

               Byleth leaned closer, her breath tickling Edelgard's ear as she whispered, "Let's trust her."

               Edelgard did not trust easily, but Byleth's judgment was unerring so finally she nodded. "Shez, anyone who sees you will believe you to still be Epimenides. We can use that to our advantage for now. Speak as little as possible. If anyone addresses you, tell them to follow the emperor's commands."

               "And try to look intimidating," Byleth added.

               Shez was looking rather pale herself now but she nodded. "Look scary and follow your lead. Got it."

               They managed to make it out of the dungeons without any difficulty. They received uncertain looks as they made their way through the castle corridors, though who could say whether it was Shez's presence or Byleth's, still being supported by Edelgard, that raised eyebrows. By the time they reached the throne room, Edelgard had accumulated a retinue of guards and retainers to whom she delivered a series of orders.

               "I require this room to be secured," she said to the guards, who bowed and set about organising a defensive perimeter. And then, turning to the attendants, "I require a full report on the current situation in Enbarr, writing materials, and a messenger who can deliver a letter to Count Bergliez." Several attendants hurried off to attend to those requests. To the remaining ones she added, "General Eisner has been injured and needs rest. Please bring something she can lie down on while I work."

               And then, to Byleth, in a low tone, "I'm not letting you out of my sight."

#

               Byleth woke in time to hear Shez providing Edelgard with a report on a number skirmishes that had taken place around the palace, which suggested to Byleth that she'd been asleep for several hours at least. She was still in Enbarr's throne room, curled up on a small divan to one side of Edelgard. The rhythmic throbbing in her chest alarmed her—and only grew faster with her alarm—but she forced herself to sit up and take stock of the situation. Edelgard, noting her movement, glanced her way before returning her attention to Shez.

               "I'll make one more sweep," Shez said, "but I think we've cleaned up all of those nasty mages. Or the ones in the palace at least."

               "Thank you, Shez."

               Shez pulled a hood over her face. "Just keep telling your forces not to skewer me on sight. I really could've done without Epimenides making me enemy number one for half the armies of Fódlan."

               As Shez left, Edelgard took a seat next to Byleth. "How are you?"

               Byleth's hand flew to her chest. "Edelgard, my heart…"

               "I know," Edelgard said in a hushed whisper. She took hold of Byleth's arm. "I'll pour you some tea. It will help you wake up."

               Byleth watched her move to the little table next to her throne that was covered in papers and quills, as well as a steaming pot of tea and several cups. As Edelgard poured the tea, Byleth's gaze lingered on her gloved hands, her mind turning to those slender fingers that had gently travelled the criss-crossing paths of her scars. The throbbing in her chest grew more rapid at the memory.

               Edelgard brought the tea. "Have you rested at all?" Byleth asked.

               "There's not been time."

               No sooner had she spoken than the throne room door opened to admit a messenger. "Your Majesty, Court Bergliez is here to speak with you."

               And then another. "Your Majesty, Seteth of the Church forces insists on an audience."

               Edelgard looked at Byleth, one eyebrow raised as if to say "You see what I mean?" before turning to the messengers. "See them both in."

               Some minutes later both Bergliez and Seteth were escorted into the throne room. Bergliez offered a quick bow and began with, "Your Majesty, I've heard reports that Epimenides is—" at the same time as Seteth stepped forward and, in his sharpest tone said, "Edelgard, I insist on knowing what has become of—Oh! Professor, you're here."

               "I'm all right, Seteth," she assured him.

               Before he could reply, another messenger arrived at the door. "Your Majesty—"

               "Whoever it is send them in as well," Edelgard said, raising her voice to be heard over Bergliez and Seteth who were both asking a volley of questions at once.

               The door opened once more and a tall figure stepped through. Byleth leaped to her feet.

               "Hey, Teach. You look different."

               Standing in the doorway, one of his old sly smiles gracing his features, was Claude von Riegan.

Chapter Text

Byleth, like everyone else, was bursting with questions at seeing Claude and so, with the palace secure, Edelgard had everyone reconvene in a proper council room. She and Edelgard sat at the head of the long table while Seteth and Claude took their places across from Count Bergliez who'd also brought Petra and Dorothea, as Edelgard's closest generals. Lysithea and Leonie soon joined on Claude's side. Shez, with her hood pulled low over her face, hovered uncertainly to one side. Claude's gaze kept flitting over to her, though Byleth also noticed it lingering on her. She supposed she'd surprised him by throwing her arms around him and urgently asking him for news of her Deer. The relief she'd experienced at seeing him had been so acute and the thing in her chest had throbbed terribly when she'd feared for the others. It was like nothing she'd experienced before, as if her emotions had suddenly become more intense. If Claude was startled by it, well he certainly wasn't the only one.

               "Everyone's okay," he'd told her. "A few bumps and bruises but that's about it. We were on our way back to Myrddin when I got word that you'd marched on Enbarr so I flew down here."

               They'd deviated from the plan considerably; instead of just holding Myrrdin, they'd attacked Enbarr directly and, in the end, defeated Thales and Epimenides. Even though Byleth was still trying to weigh the cost, she was certain it had been worth it.

               Edelgard called for tea and refreshments but Seteth was impatient to start, beginning before the servers had returned with it. "We were promised that if we retook Enbarr we would have news of Lady Rhea's whereabouts."

               Edelgard's tone was frigid. "We've only just secured the palace from Thales's remaining forces. I've sent someone to take account of any prisoners that they may have had in custody."

               "Speaking of prisoners," Byleth cut in. "They have Dedue imprisoned. I'm certain that's why the Blue Lions attacked us and why they refused to explain. He was being used as leverage against them."

               "Wait," Claude said, raising a hand, "you were attacked by the Blue Lions? When was this?"

               "What about Epimenides?" Count Bergliez asked. "Should we expect further attacks from his forces?"

               Leonie leaned forward over the table. "I want to know why the imperial army's been refusing to fight for the past several days. Hard to siege a city when half the army won't budge."

               Petra shook her head. "I am wanting to know what is happening to Edelgard since she was disappeared."

               Lysithea's brow was furrowed, head tilted on her chin. "I'm more concerned with the professor's sudden change in appearance."

               Dorothea was peering curiously in Shez's direction. "Well if we're all getting a say, I'd like to know who tall, dark, and mysterious over there is."

               Byleth glanced at Edelgard who nodded, ceding the table to her with the slightest gesture. Byleth stood, drawing everyone's attention to her. "We'll answer everyone's questions in due course. First, I'd like to start with Claude. Why don't you tell us what happened in the north and then we can catch you up on the rest?"

               As Claude began to recount the northern campaign, the servers came with tea, plates of bread and cheese, and platters of almond cookies. Just the sight of the food made her stomach rumble as she suddenly realized how famished she truly was. She devoured the light fare while taking mental notes on Claude's story. Their overseas attack had indeed taken the enemy completely by surprise, just as Claude had hoped. His army had reached Fhirdiad before Cornelia had even been aware of their presence and she'd been forced to turn her own forces around to attack them instead of the Alliance. It had been a close thing, but they'd secured Fhirdiad before Cornelia's return and had been in a secure position to fend off her army. Their victory had been decisive. The main sticking point afterwards had been figuring out who to leave in control of the conquered territory since Claude had been eager to return to the front at Myrrdin.

               "So who did you settle on?" Byleth asked.

               "Baron Dominic."

               "A relation of Annette's?"

               Claude nodded. "Her uncle. She's been staying with him since the start of the war, by the way. He'd managed to keep his house somewhat neutral. His territory borders Gerth so he's used to navigating the dicey relationship between the empire and the kingdom. Catherine's up there, as well as a representative of the Church."

               From the corner of her eye, Byleth saw Edelgard stiffen. The issue of who should control Faerghus had been a sticking point in many of their late-night discussions. There was no easy answer. When Edelgard had proposed an imperial regent, Byleth had pointed to the difficulties of ruling an occupied territory. A kingdom lord who was sympathetic to her cause would be a much better solution but no one immediately sprang to mind. "We should to write to Baron Dominic," Byleth said, turning to Edelgard, "to apprise him of the current situation." She used "we" quite intentionally, and felt the weight of her audience's gazes.

               Edelgard's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. "Yes. We should do so as soon as possible."

               Byleth could hear a slight shifting around them as Edelgard echoed the "we". Byleth wouldn't know for certain what their path forward would be until they'd ascertained Lady Rhea's status, but she'd promised Edelgard her aid and, more than that, she wanted to see the new world they'd built in their imaginations during all those late nights. A world where crests wouldn't determine someone's fate and where outsiders were no longer feared. Her newly-beating heart throbbed with how much she wanted it.

               "And Cornelia?" Edelgard asked.

               Claude leaned back in his chair. "We've seen the last of Cornelia. Or should I say Cleobulus?"

               Edelgard quirked an eyebrow. "Was that her true name?"

               "Seems like it," Claude said with a nod. "Another of those mysterious mages. I wish we knew more about them. Where they came from, what they wanted—besides destabilizing all of Fódlan."

               Byleth resisted the urge to glance at Shez. Epimenides had called his people the Agarthans and claimed that Sothis was a monster who'd enslaved the world. She wished she could ask Sothis. There was some part of Fódlan's past that was veiled to them all and Epimenides and his lot has long operated in its shadow.

               "Let me catch you up on what you missed," Byleth offered, and gave Claude a brief recounting of the events of the past months that had led them to Enbarr's gates.

               "When you disappeared during the battle," Seteth said, "we feared the worst." His eyes darted to Edelgard, and Byleth could read between the lines: what he'd feared was treachery. "Especially when Count Bergliez refused to fight."

               Edelgard raised a hand before Count Bergliez could interject. "Before the beginning of the battle I had told Count Bergliez that, should anything happen to me, he should take no action until he could confirm my death."

               "And since we couldn't, Your Majesty, I held back my forces."

               "It was necessary that I appeared to Thales to be cooperative once we were captured."

               Leonie was scowling at Edelgard with an intensity that rivalled Seteth. "Were you planning this all along?"

               "Not exactly," Byleth said quickly, hoping to smooth things over; no one needed to know that even she'd been in the dark about Edelgard's plan. "It was improvised when we were pinned down by Epimenides and those magical barriers. How extensive was the fire damage?"

               "Much of the outer city was destroyed," Count Bergliez said. "We were lucky enough to get some rain that night or the blaze might have taken the entire city."

               Edelgard looked grim, but not surprised so Byleth gathered she'd received reports of the damage already, while Byleth had been napping, she supposed.

               "Well don't keep us in suspense, Edie. How did you take back the palace and what happened to the professor?"

               Byleth exchanged a look with Edelgard. "We managed to catch Thales unawares," Byleth said, skipping over her time in the dungeons entirely, skipping over the darkness and the doubt, "but Epimenides sacrificed him in order to cast the Forbidden Spell of Zahras. We confronted him there but I had to use the power I'd been granted by the goddess in order to escape."

               There was a fair bit of murmuring at this and several overlapping questions, which Byleth answered one by one, adding some detail to her recounting of the incident. She hesitated, her palms growing slick and her newly-beating heart racing, when she came to explaining how they'd met Shez, the discarded vessel for Epimenides's consciousness. Was that all she, too, was now? An empty vessel? She forced herself to press on with the tale and recount their battle and escape from Zahras. Only when she'd finished did she call Shez over to join them.

               Hesitating, Shez moved to an empty chair near the end of the table and sat. Only then did she finally draw back her hood. For a long moment, no one spoke, staring.

               Edelgard cleared her throat. "Shez, when we first encountered Epimenides in Zahras he referred to you as a child of Shambhala. Do you have any idea what he meant?"

               She shrugged. "Not really. I didn't know my real parents. My mom adopted me and we lived on the outskirts of a mountain village. She taught me to fight and when she passed I became a mercenary. So I don't really know where I was born. But…" Her brow furrowed and her gaze grew distant.

               "What is it?" Byleth asked, keeping her tone gentle and encouraging as she might have with one of her students back at the academy.

               Shez ran a hand through her hair. "So I remember bits and pieces of the last few months. Mostly images and snatches of conversation, that sort of thing. I remember when you stabbed me," she said, glancing at Byleth as her hand darted to a spot on her torso. "Thanks by the way."

               "Likewise," Byleth said with a tiny huff of laughter.

               "After that he—or we or whatever—went somewhere to heal. It was a sort of city, but… underground. Everything was lit up by these glowing sigils like the ones we saw in Zahras. And I remember it was east, in the mountains."

               "In Hrym territory?" Edelgard said.

               "I think so," Shez replied. "I don't think we ever crossed the Airmid so it would've had to have been."

               Byleth's hand shot to her chest as her heart began to race. She forced herself to keep a calm expression as she asked, "Do you think you could find it again?"

               There was a pause during which Shez's gaze was distant again as if she were searching for something inside herself. "Yeah. Yeah I think so."

               Count Bergliez's fist pounded the table. "So we can track them to their lair and destroy them at the source!"

               "Eventually," Claude said. "I don't think anyone's forces are in good enough shape right now to start another campaign."

               Byleth nodded. "You're right." She let her gaze sweep the table. "We've all taken losses. But we have one advantage in that they don't know about Shez and how much she remembers. So we'll have time to build up our forces and make proper plans."

               Claude quirked an eyebrow. "And by 'we' you mean…"

               Byleth tilted her head. "All of us, I hope. These mages are a threat to everyone. We fought together to banish them from Enbarr. I hope we can come together again to deal with this underground city of theirs."

               "Any clue who they actually are, though?" Claude asked, turning to Shez.

               She shook her head. "Not really. Though I think Epimenides called them... Ag—something." She glanced at Byleth. "Help me out here."

               "Agarthans," Byleth supplied.

               "What?" It was more a gasp than a word breathed from Seteth's lips.

               Byleth looked at him curiously. "Does that mean something to you?"

               "A faint memory," Seteth said—a little too quickly. "Something I read in a book perhaps in Garreg Mach's library."

               Byleth kept her tone entirely neutral. "Let us know if you remember any more of it."

               There was more discussion, an endless stream of questions, including her own as she demanded Claude give her news of each of her former students. More food and tea was brought in as the hours wore on, but finally it was agreed that it was late and everyone should get some rest. It was as they were filing out the door that Edelgard called to her. "Professor, may I speak to you a moment in private?"

               Byleth nodded. "Of course. Let me walk you to your quarters." And then softly, "You need your rest."

               A faint hint of colour crept up Edelgard's cheeks but she nodded and led the way. They spoke very little as they walked and Byleth's heart thrummed with something that was hard to discern. Anticipation? Anxiety? Some heady mixture of both? Since she'd woken on the dungeon floor in Edelgard's arms everything had seemed so disorienting, her emotions surging through her like the pulse of her blood.

               Edelgard led the way through the palace's wide rooms and narrow corridors until they reached the door to her rooms. She nodded to her guards as she passed them and pushed open the door, leading Byleth into a comfortable sitting room. The door closed behind them and for a moment they both stood there, looking at each other, neither of them seeming certain where to begin. It seemed different now, Byleth thought. Edelgard was the emperor of Adrestia and being in Enbarr's palace made the reality of it much more concrete than when they'd been in the war camp.

               "What happened to you in Zahras…" Edelgard began slowly, not quite meeting Byleth's eyes. "It's more than what you revealed in today's discussions."

               Byleth's hand came to rest over her heart. It throbbed beneath her palm, a strange pulsing thing winth a mind of its own.

               "Byleth…" Edelgard stepped closer and placed a hand over hers. Byleth raised her eyes to meet Edelgard's and only then could she name the thing that made that strange heartbeat race: it was fear.

               "It isn't just the goddess's power. I… I don't think I have the Crest of Flames anymore."

               Edelgard's fingers tightened around hers. "You can't use the Sword of the Creator, can you?"

               The thing in her chest lurched unpleasantly. "How did you know?"

               "Thales had his suspicions about how you could use the sword without its crest stone. Those suspicions were all but confirmed when you showed me the scar on your chest from what Rhea had done to you." The pale white line below her sternum that disappeared between her breasts. The scar from when Rhea had given Byleth her mother's "heart".

               "You mean…" But she couldn't finish the sentence. The entire world seemed to spin, a wobbly top on the verge of tipping over.

               "Come and sit down," Edelgard said, tugging on her arm. "You look pale."

               Byleth let herself be led even though at the back of her mind she felt how weak this must make her look compared to the ever-dependable and steady professor everyone had always known. She was changed. She was less than she'd been. Her eyes prickled and it was by force of will alone that she gathered herself enough to think through what Edelgard had just implied. She took a deep breath and then another, aware of the look of concern on Edelgard's features. "You're saying that the crest stone was… inside me."

               "Yes."

               "That Rhea gave it to me as a baby and that it was the source of my crest."

               "Nemesis was thought to not have any descendants. You and I are the only two people since Nemesis to have the Crest of Flames and I certainly didn't come by it naturally."

               "But it's more than that. I…" Edelgard waited patiently as Byleth grasped at words. "I don't feel like myself." Her hand moved again to cover her heart and its unfamiliar rhythm. "It's like I don't know how to be calm anymore. My heart is always racing."

               "You'll grow accustomed to it," Edelgard said softly, cupping Byleth's cheek.

               "But I…" She hung her head, eyes stinging once more. "I told you your chances were better with me and now I'm not so sure. I promised you we'd change Fódlan but I may be too weak now to keep that promise. I'm sorry."

               Edelgard's fingers pushed her chin up and her gaze was fierce when Byleth's eyes finally met hers. "You gave everything to free us, everything that you are. I will not accept apologies from you."

               "But—"
               "And do you mean to tell me that your value is only in your crest's strength? As if your experience in battle and your skill as a tactician were all dependant on your crest? And what of your talent for listening, for drawing out confidences? Do you truly believe that was only the crest's influence?"

               "You're saying I can still be useful?"

               Edelgard's brow became even more furrowed. "You're not a tool, Byleth. You don't need to make yourself useful to me. I know what it is to be a tool and I will not use you as one."

               "But do you still want my help—such as it is. If you want to back out and negotiate with Claude directly I'd unders—"

               And then Edelgard's lips were on hers, as forceful as the hands that clasped Byleth so tightly. She drew back just as quickly, her eyes full of determination. "I have always wanted your help. I have always wanted to walk by your side. That hasn't changed, even if you have."

               Byleth's heart surged, though this time it was with gratitude. She let her forehead rest against Edelgard's as she whispered, "Thank you." And then, feeling her own weariness overcoming her, "I should let you rest. You haven't slept since we got back."

                But Edelgard's hand tightened around her.

               "What is it?" Byleth whispered.

               Edelgard flushed. "I must admit I'm a little afraid that if I take my eyes off you for more than a moment you might disappear for five years. I was grateful enough for your absence then but now…" She glanced up at Byleth, her gaze softening. "Now I would find it very difficult to bear."

               "Then I'll stay," Byleth said softly.

Chapter Text

It was over breakfast that a messenger arrived to announce that Hubert von Vestra had finally been located.

               "Can I come along?" Byleth asked as Edelgard rose from the table, eager to reach the infirmary.

               She nodded, features taut. "Please do."

               He was rail-thin, cheeks hollowed out, and a healer was bandaging his left hand, which appeared to be short one finger, but as soon as he saw Edelgard he tried to get to his feet. "Lady Edelgard—" That was as far as he got before the healer pushed him back down.

               "Hubert!" It came out as more of a gasp than a name and Byleth could see the effort it took Edelgard to keep herself composed. She turned immediately to the healer. "How is he?"

               The healer bowed. "Malnourished and feverish. I've treated the wound in his hand as best I can. For now he needs rest and food. I'll want to keep him here for a few days but if he improves we can have him moved to his quarters—if you would prefer that, Lord Vestra."

               "I would." His voice was cracked and held little of the menace Byleth remembered from the academy.

               The healer excused herself to allow them to speak privately and only then did Edelgard approach his bedside and take his uninjured hand. "Hubert… I'm sorry. All this was done to you because of me."

               "Lady Edelgard," he croaked, "I need no apologies from you. As long as they kept returning to my cell, I knew that you were safe. If you had been captured or killed they would have lost all interest in me. Their torment was my hope."

               Edelgard looked stricken and all she could do was clutch his hand more tightly.

               "I gather Lord Arundel is no longer in control of the palace," he said.

               "He is quite dead."

               Hubert's lips curled into a smile. "More excellent news. Well, this is turning out to be quite a fine day."

               A huff of laughter escaped Edelgard's lips and Byleth could see some of the tension draining out of her. Hubert's eyes flitted away from Edelgard to where Byleth hovered in the doorway. Edelgard turned and followed his gaze. "The professor has been working with us to liberate Adrestia."

               His eyebrows shot up. "I see war makes for strange bedfellow."

               Byleth could see the flush creeping up Edelgard's face even from the doorway so she moved to join her before Hubert could take note. "Hello, Hubert."

               "Professor," he said, his voice weak, but his tone familiarly dour. "You look different than when we last met."

               Her lips twitched. "So do you."

               "I think perhaps you have the better part of that bargain," he added wryly. But then the healer was back and, with apologies to the emperor, insisted that Hubert needed his rest.

               Later, when they had word of Rhea's whereabouts, Byleth asked Edelgard to accompany her, a mirror to the earlier scene with Hubert. She knew Seteth would be annoyed when he learned he wasn't the first to know, but Byleth felt it was important that she speak to Rhea first to try to set the stage for future discussions.

               Rhea had been kept in the deepest part of the palace, not a cell like the one Byleth had spent a night in, but a room whose walls had been engraved with glowing runes like the ones in Zahras. A twinge of nausea curdled her stomach as she looked on them.

               Rhea's eyes widened when she saw her. She lurched forward, stumbling on unsteady legs. Byleth rushed forward to help her up even as she could feel Edelgard's gaze on her. On her knees, Rhea gripped Byleth's offered hand, staring up at her. "You," she breathed. "You have come to save me." Tears glistened in her eyes. "Is this a dream? I have longed to see you again… all this time… Is it truly you?"

               "It is." Byleth eased her up, steadying her.

               "But… what has happened to you? You've… changed."

               Byleth nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. She was lesser, weaker, no longer gifted with the goddess's power, but for the sake of the future she wanted to build—a future where Claude's and Edelgard's dreams could become reality—she would need to hold on to the authority Rhea had left her. "A great deal has happened." She glanced Edelgard's way, tilting her chin to beckon her into the room.

               Rhea's hands tightened around Byleth's forearms, gripping like steely manacles. "What is the meaning of this?"

               Edelgard's tone was frigid even if her words were civil. "The mages who've been tormenting you have been purged from Enbarr. I can offer more comfortable accommodations and a promise of safety while we strive to reach a settlement."

               "The war is over," Byleth said gently. "And there are no victors."

               Rhea's hands curled like talons. "You cannot trust her lies, Professor! She—"

               "You've lied to me as well," Byleth said, loosening one of her hands to tap her chest where her beating heart thrummed maddeningly. She managed to keep her tone calm, casual, as if she were still the same person who'd stepped into Garreg Mach that first day nearly six years ago. "And I have questions. I hope you'll be willing to answer them." Rhea looked stricken, unable to meet Byleth's eyes. "Later," Byleth said gently. "When you're rested. Seteth and Flayn are eager to see you."

               "They're here? And safe?"

               "They are."

               Byleth stayed with Rhea until she was settled in her new room. In her weakened state it was unlikely she would try to escape, but guards were stationed at the door regardless. "I hope we aren't making a mistake," Edelgard said once they were alone in the corridor, headed back towards the council room where Edelgard expected to receive more reports and give more orders on how to handle the disorder in the scorched city. "She certainly wasn't as pleased to see me as she was to see you," she added ruefully.

               "I think she'll be less pleased when she finds out I no longer have the crest stone." Byleth's hand hovered over her heart, its thump a constant distraction. "It was never me she really wanted to speak to." Byleth felt a firm pressure on her arm and looked down to see Edelgard's fingers there.

               "Then more the fool she."

               "Edelgard…" Her voice was barely more than a whisper and her hands felt as unsteady as that racing heart. "Are you sure you still—"

               Edelgard stopped in her tracks. "Byleth." She said it so firmly Byleth found herself snapping to attention. "Were you about to suggest my… attachment… to you is solely the result of the crest stone?"

               "Can you be sure it isn't?"

               "Perhaps not six years ago, but now…" She shook her head. "Do you think the influence of your crest can claim the credit for every kind word you've spoken? For the faith you had in me even when you had every reason to doubt? For everything you've done for me these past months?"

               "I…"

               Edelgard reached up and pressed her palm to Byleth's cheek. "Your crest is not all of who you are any more than mine is."

               Relief loosened muscles Byleth hadn't realized had been bunched up. "You're right." She sighed. "Everything just feels so different now, like I can't quite get my bearings."

               "There will be a great many challenges in the coming days. We'll need to navigate them carefully if we wish the situation to turn in our favour. It would easy for the armies here to begin fighting one another."

               Byleth shook her head, fists clenching at her sides. "I won't let that happen. I'll do everything in my power to help us all reach an agreement. One that will guarantee a new dawn for Fódlan."

               Edelgard nodded. "All those nights we spent discussing future plans, now's the time to put those plans into action. What we need is to convince the others that what we want is in their best interest as well."

               "I'm confident in Claude's support. It's Lady Rhea who worries me…"

               They stepped away from each other as approaching footsteps could be heard down the corridor. But in spite of the distance and the way, all the rest of the day, Edelgard kept her expression so carefully neutral when she glanced in her direction, Byleth knew she had someone she could count on to weather the coming storms.

Chapter Text

Byleth waited until Rhea asked to see her. She was busy enough in the meantime, trying to coordinate aid for the citizens of Enbarr. Edelgard did not spare the nobles: she ordered that the great manors of the old city, which had been spared from the flames, open their doors to those without shelter. She housed many more in the palace itself, going so far as to ask her guests to share rooms with each other to make more space. It was a good solution while they set up temporary shelters for those who'd lost their homes—and also a good excuse for Byleth to share Edelgard's quarters without causing gossip.

               After a day full of managing disparate interests and short tempers, all the while treating each other with careful neutrality, they could walk side by side down the corridors to Edelgard's chambers, and, when the doors closed behind them, fall into each other's arms with no one the wiser. When they lay in the dark, Edelgard's skin soft against her own, Edelgard would rest her head on her chest and Byleth's racing heart would slow into a gentle, steady rhythm.

               Rhea knew none of this and Byleth was determined that she wouldn't. It would only hurt their cause. Tactically she knew it would have been safer for them to stay away from each other, to not risk each other's credibility by being discovered together, but she wanted those fleeting moments with Edelgard too much. If they had to play at politics all day then at least at night she could whisper every "I love you," that she'd swallowed in daylight, and bask in the softness Edelgard's gaze reserved only for her and only when they were alone.

               She was on the way to Rhea's rooms when Dorothea caught up to her in the corridor. "Hello there, Professor."

               "Hello, Dorothea. Do you need something?"

               She fell into step next to her. "Oh nothing in particular."

               "Have you had any news of your friends in the city?"

               "Yes, my old opera company is safe." Dorothea's expression darkened. "But so much of the city…"

               Byleth flinched. You could still smell ash on the wind when you stepped outside and she'd found herself dreaming of flames these past nights and the monstrous white beast the mages had sent after her and Edelgard. The dreams left her full of regret for all those she'd failed. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more to protect Enbarr."

               Dorothea offered her a wistful smile. "I know you and Edie did everything you could." For a moment there was only the sound of their footfalls in the corridor before Dorothea spoke again, her tone rising slightly. "You and Edie have gotten used to working together over the past few months, haven’t you?"

               "Yes, we have."

               "You might even say you've gotten friendly, wouldn't you, Professor?"

               Byleth could feel a blush creeping up her cheeks, but she kept her tone decidedly neutral and her eyes ahead. "I'd say that's a fair assessment."

               "I'm glad to hear that." Dorothea's voice was melodious, her smile as bright as sunrise. "So you wouldn't be averse to continuing to work with her, would you?"

               Byleth stopped and waited for Dorothea to turn to face her. "Dorothea," she said, eyebrows raised, "what's this about?"

               Dorothea's gaze shifted down the corridor and then back to Byleth. "I… heard you were going to speak to Lady Rhea. I just…"

               "You're worried I might side with her against Adrestia?"

               Dorthea glanced up at her and away again. "Yes."

               Byleth reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "Don't worry. I won't abandon Adrestia. Or Edelgard."

               "Thank you, Professor." There was real warmth in Dorothea's eyes. "And thank you for what you've done for Edie and for all of us. I don't know what would've become of us without your help."

               Byleth's breath caught and her ribs ached at the thought: she knew precisely what would have become of them all. But she steeled herself. "There's still a lot of work to be done."

               "I'll let you get back to it then," Dorothea said.

               "Actually there's something I was wondering if you could do for me. As a favour." Dorothea raised her eyebrows. "It's about Shez…"

               "You mean the mercenary Epimenides was controlling?"

               Byleth nodded. "Everyone still seems afraid of her because of that. I was wondering if you would… talk to her. And maybe ask the others to as well?"

               "I'd be lying if I said she didn't make me a little nervous but all right, Professor. I'll see what I can do."

               "Thank you." Dorothea went on her way and Byleth knew she still had a difficult conversation ahead of her, but having that one small matter attended to—or hopefully attended to—gave her some small peace of mind as she continued on her way.

               When she reached Rhea's rooms, the guards nodded and unlocked the door. She stepped into a little sitting room, smaller than the one attached to Edelgard's quarters, but equally well furnished with padded chairs and benches and a finely carved wooden table on which currently rested a tea set and a platter of truffle pastries. "Professor, it's good to see you," Rhea said, her tone serene though Byleth detected a flash of nervousness in her expression. "Please have some refreshment. I hope you like Crescent-Moon Tea."

               "Thank you," Byleth said and seated herself as Rhea poured them both tea as if they were back at Garreg Mach. "Seteth said you were ready to speak with me."

               Rhea sat and took a sip of her tea before she spoke. "Seteth told me about your encounter with Epimenides and what your learned about the mages who were working in the empire."

               "Agarthans, he called them."

               Rhean stiffened at the name. "Yes…"

               Byleth took a pastry and placed it on her plate. "Do you know something about them?"

               Rhea set down her cup, hands clenching in her lap. She looked so much more fragile after her imprisonment, brittle like a cracked teacup. "Seteth has urged me to share what I know."

               "We intend to find their underground fortress and confront them once and for all. I'd like to know what we're up against." She munched on her pastry to give Rhea time to overcome whatever doubts still gnawed at her, as well as to hide her own jitters, the way her heart was racing again like a scrabbling mouse.

               "It is a story that began long ago…"
               And so Rhea recounted the tale of how Sothis had come from far away and created the children of the goddess, of humans and their wars, of the land's restoration and the goddess's sleep, and of the massacre at Zanado. Rhea's voice broke when she recounted it and Byleth rose and poured her more tea. "Drink," she said softly and they remained in silence, sipping their tea until Rhea had composed herself.

               She told Byleth of her blinding need for revenge and how, as Seiros, she'd founded the empire and gathered the forces to oppose Nemesis and the Ten Elites, how she'd finally defeated them on the Tailtean Plains and reclaimed the Sword of the Creator.

               Byleth made a point of finishing another pastry before she spoke, chewing on it slowly as she tried to deal with this deluge of information. She wished now for that easy calm she'd always possessed and which now required such effort. "Why conceal all of this?"

               "If people knew they could gain such power from the children of the goddess we would be hunted, imprisoned, used for our blood."

               Byleth couldn't make a sound argument against that given that that was precisely what Thales and his ilk had done. Yet it still wasn't a complete answer. "But why stay? You could have left Fódlan, lived your life in some other land where no one would know you."

               Her hands clasped her cup a little too tightly. "It was my home and I had a duty to guide the people of Fódlan."

               Taking a deep breath, Byleth did her best to keep her voice even. "But you ended up creating a system that perpetuates the crests. And by claiming they're the blessing of the goddess you've handed control of the continent to the descendants of the people who killed your family."

               A sharp ringing filled the air as Rhea set her cup down on its saucer, sloshing tea over the rim. "I have done my utmost to keep Fódlan's peace all these centuries." Her voice was as cutting as the edge of the sword that bore her name. "To prevent another Red Canyon, to prevent the peoples of this land from destroying themselves and everything around them as their predecessors had done."

               "By fostering fear of outsiders?" Byleth could hear her own voice rising but couldn't hold herself back any longer. "By encouraging families to discard their children for not having crests? To treat their daughters as breeding mares?" Her hands balled themselves into fists. "By supressing discoveries you deem too dangerous and culling anyone who disagrees with your tenants?"

               "Enough, Professor. Do you believe you would fare better?"

               "Not alone. But I have the support of Claude and—" Rhea began to interrupt but Byleth spoke over her, "—of Edelgard. Their ambitions aren't so different. Edelgard wants a world without the crest-bearing nobility and Claude wants to open Fódlan to the rest of the world. I can be a bridge between their visions." Rhea didn't immediately reply. Her jaw was clenched tight, her eyes fixed on Byleth with a piercing stare. "All my life I was following someone else. Even when I came to Garreg Mach I was just following Claude. But Sothis told me to cut my own path and I finally know what that path is. I finally know what I want."

               "She… spoke to you?" The fury had drained from Rhea's face, her voice only just above a whisper.

               "She did. After all, I had her crest stone, didn’t I?" She tapped her chest.

               "So you know."

               Byleth nodded. "I know that much at least. Just not why."

               "I… wished to speak to my mother again."

               "And you were hoping she would speak… through me." Rhea didn't meet her eyes and Byleth knew her suspicions had been correct. She'd been intended to be like Shez: a vessel for the consciousness of another being.

               "I had hoped if I returned the progenitor god to this world I could make things right again."

               "I'm afraid you're just left with me now."

               The silenced stretched out and finally Byleth took another pastry and bit into it letting the taste of the truffle and the flaky shell roll across her tongue. It was almost enough to drown out the throb of her heart and the emotion that fuelled it, some corrosive mix of anger and resentment. It was difficult to fathom how she'd once listened to Rhea's story about giving her her mother's heart with equanimity. She forced herself to drink some tea. When she was certain she could speak calmly she set down her cup. "I believe the people of Fódlan deserve to choose their own path now, no matter where it may lead. I'm asking you not to stand in my way."

               Rhea let out a long breath and she seemed almost to shrink as the air left her lungs. "Very well. But when you go to Shambhala I wish to accompany you."

               Byleth quirked an eyebrow. "Will you be well enough?"

               Rhea waved a hand, dismissing the question. "Regardless of my condition, I must go. After everything they have taken from me, I must see their end."

               Byleth nodded and then, lips twitching up at the corners, "All right, but it's not me you need to convince—it's Seteth."

               And Rhea laughed.

Chapter Text

When Byleth passed by the archery range early that morning, she was surprised to spot Claude, his bowstring still vibrating and his arrow firmly planted in the target's centre. "Shooting practice before breakfast?" she asked as she joined him.

               He shrugged and drew another arrow from his quiver. "It helps me clear my head."

               "Mind if I join you?"

               "Not at all, Archbishop Byleth. That has a nice ring, don't you think?"

               Byleth winced. "I'm not so sure. And it's not official yet. We may not even use that title." She went to fetch a practice bow of her own; she could use some head-clearing herself. She strung the bow and slung a quiver over her back and returned to Claude. She drew the bowstring back, feeling the strain of her muscles where once she could have done it with unthinking ease. She breathed deep, centred on the target, and loosed the arrow. It struck the target with a satisfying thwump. "So what's on your mind?" she asked him—before he could ask her.

               "Oh you know, trying to get my head around everything that's happened. After all, I was expecting to come back to find you defending Myrddin not sieging Enbarr—oh and missing to boot."

               She reached for another arrow. "When Epimenides was injured it was too good an opportunity to pass up."

               He ran his fingers along the fletching of one of his arrows. "I'd have made the same call in your shoes, but you took a real gamble on Edelgard. I'm just glad it worked out. Otherwise I'd have had to come up with a plan to save you and take the city."

               Her lips curled into a smile. "Sorry if I worried you."

               He pulled a second arrow from his quiver. "The fighting on the eastern and western fronts has settled too. I hear Count Varley couldn't surrender fast enough. Duke Aegir fought to the death though."

               "I know," she said softly. Edelgard had been composing a letter to Ferdinand late into the night. Claude notched both arrows and shot them, both striking the target dead-centre. It paled against what he could do with Failnaught.

               "What about Dimitri? Have you decided what to do about him? I heard some of the Kingdom nobles have been petitioning for his release."

               Byleth grimaced. "Mad as he is that won't stop them from using him—making him into a figurehead."

               Claude nodded approvingly. "That's just what I was thinking. Best keep him out of their clutches. But if you keep him in the empire they can use that too and argue that the rightful king is being held against his will by the emperor."

               "Exactly. Which is why I think we need to take him to Garreg Mach. He can be safely cared for there and the Kingdom won't dare argue with the decision if it comes from the Church."

               "And that way you can retain the goodwill of all your allies."

               She sighed. Thinking about tactics on a battlefield was something she'd done all her life and understanding the movements and motives of armies was second nature. Guessing at the ploys and plots of corrupt nobles, though, was exhausting. Exhausting and necessary if she really was going to take on leadership of the Church of Seiros. But even before that, there was still another war to be planned and fought. "I need everyone to be willing to cooperate to take on these Agarthans. I hope you and the others will come when we're ready to go to Shambhala."

               "I wouldn't miss the chance to see this so-called underground city for myself. I want to know more about these Agarthans." She'd recounted much of what Rhea had told her to both Claude and Edelgard. Claude had been intrigued; Edelgard had been incensed. It was what she'd expected. " And I'm sure the others will show up for us. Actually I don't think you could stop Lysithea from coming."

               Byleth nodded. "I promised her she'd be there when the time comes."

               Claude was wearing one of his cheeky smiles as he went on. "Have you got Her Majesty, Emperor of all Adrestia on board?"

               She notched another arrow, ignoring the mocking tone in his voice. "Edelgard is just as eager to put an end to them as anyone else."

               "Or more so."

               Byleth stiffened mid-draw. "What do you mean?"

               Claude twirled an arrow between his fingers, a familiar glint in his eye, the one he always had when he'd discovered a secret. "Oh just that I've finally put a few things together. Lysithea's mages are the same ones who were here in Adrestia. And Edelgard… she's just like Lysithea, isn't she?"

               Byleth kept her eyes on the target, in one smooth motion drawing back the string and loosing her arrow. "You should ask her yourself."

               "You don't seem surprised. That tells me all I need to know."

               Sighing, Byleth let her bow hand drop and turned to look at Claude. "Please try to stay on her good side. I need to keep everyone working together."

               "Don't worry, Teach. I may needle her a bit but I'm planning to hold her to that pact with the Alliance. Leicester is in a strong position, just how we wanted it."

               Some of the tension drained out of her shoulders. She nodded and turned back to the targets. She pulled another arrow from her quiver. She'd notched it and was drawing back just as Claude added, "But just in case, I did suggest to Edelgard that we could tie the knot to really solidify the arrangement."

               Her arrow buried itself in the ground.

               She spun to face him, the curve of the bow narrowly missing him. "You what?"

               His eyebrows shot up. "Just as a backup plan in case Lady Rhea doesn’t follow through."

               Her heart was banging against her ribs, pulse thundering in her ears. "I thought you were going back to your homeland. You told me you wouldn't be around once I was Fódlan's leader."

               "I am, but not until things are stable. And if either Rhea or Edelgard back out of their part of the bargain—"

               "They won't." Byleth's voice had a hard edge, like the monstrous bone used to make the Sword of the Creator. "I'll make sure of that."

               He peered at her for a beat, brow furrowed. "Did I… get in the way of some plan you had up your sleeve?"

               "Yes!" she snapped.

               He raised an eyebrow. "Okay, Teach, so are you going to share your plan?"

               Byleth waved a hand while also shaking her head vigorously. Her thoughts buzzed. "Later." Her feet were already moving. "When I'm sure of it myself," she called over her shoulder.

               Edelgard. She needed to talk to Edelgard.

#

Byleth found Edelgard at breakfast in deep discussion with Lord Hevring who'd finally arrived from his territory. As Rhea's successor Byleth regularly had a seat reserved for her next to Edelgard. She sat and leaned in to whisper, "I need to speak to you as soon as possible."

               Edelgard's eyes darted over to her and she nodded minutely before returning her attention to Lord Hevring. Byleth forced herself to consume her breakfast, the sweet apricot jam on bread and the saffron-seasoned eggs disappearing from her plate without her ever tasting them. Shez, she noted, was at a table with Dorothea and Petra, gesticulating wildly as she recounted what Byleth guessed would be an adventure from her mercenary life. At least her day seemed to be going well. She did her best to be attentive to Lord Hevring's report but it was a relief he when finally concluded and Edelgard excused herself from the table with Byleth in tow. Shez caught Byleth's eye and waggled her eyebrows. Byleth scowled at her in return which only earned a grin from Shez.

               Byleth's nerves buzzed like wasps until they were finally in Edelgard's office with the door shut behind them.

               "Has anything happened?" Edelgard asked, her emperor's mask dropping as she looked at Byleth with obvious concern.

               "No but…" Byleth fists clenched at her side. She wished she had her sword just to have something to wrap her hands around. "Did Claude talk to you yesterday?"

               For a moment Edelgard's brow crinkled as if in puzzlement but then it came to her. "Yes, he did, now that you mention it. It was just before we received the news about Duke Aegir so it had completely slipped my mind."

               Byleth's mouth went dry. "Did he propose a… political alliance?"

               Edelgard quirked an eyebrow. "Is that what you're concerned about?"

               Heart in her throat, Byleth stepped closer to Edelgard. "Don't marry him."

               "I doubt it would be necessary and besides that I think Claude was only jok—"

               "Marry me instead."

               The words rushed out of her mouth… and then silence descended on the room. Edelgard stood frozen, staring at her, her face violently pink.

               "Perhaps we should sit down," Edelgard suggested after a long pause and, without waiting for Byleth's reply, moved to the padded bench against the far wall and sat.

               Byleth dropped down onto the bench next to her, the strange racing heart of hers threatening to claw its way up her throat.

               Edelgard took a deep breath. "Are you serious or was that your idea of a joke?"

               "I'm serious," Byleth said, taking Edelgard's hands in her. "Hear me out." Edelgard nodded soundlessly. "We still haven't settled on how to navigate a peace agreement between the Church and the empire."

               "That's something of an understatement," Edelgard said wryly. Their attempt to broach the subject with Seteth had resulted in both sides demanding restitution for harms. It had grown very heated very quickly and Byleth had ended the discussions before Edelgard could declare war all over again.

               "Lady Rhea is agreeing to release the reins of the Church but only to me. She and Seteth are still invested in the Church holding on to its influence and power—" Seeing Edelgard was about to interject, she raised a hand to forestall interruption. "—which is why they need to make it look like the Church isn't ceding anything. Just as the empire needs to maintain a strong front because of how weakened it is at present. Is that a fair assessment?"

               Edelgard sighed. "It is."

               Byleth squeezed her hands. "We need to appease both sides so that they can each claim that they've won."

               "And you believe a political marriage will accomplish that?"

               "Yes. The Church will see it as the empire being kept on a short leash and vise versa."

               "I think you're overestimating the importance of a symbolic union," Edelgard said shaking her head. "If you're in Garreg Mach and I'm in Enbarr no one will see either of us as being on a leash."

               A sly smile tugged Byleth's lips. "I agree. We would both have to compromise. We'd need to spend half the year at Garreg Mach and the other half in Enbarr."

               Edelgard's eyes widened and then her face crumpled into a frown as she attempted to work out the implications of such an arrangement.

               "It can work," Byleth said, her voice eager, excited. Over the past days a thousand half-formed plans had swirled in her head about how to handle one problem or another, how to address the concerns of this or that political figure, and how she and Edelgard could carry out the plans they'd talked of on all those sleepless nights. But only now when Claude had mentioned marriage had those disparate notions and fragmentary plans come crashing together in her mind. "Both sides will think they have the better deal, that they're the ones pulling the strings. But all the while we can work together. What looks on the outside like compromise will be what we agreed to and worked out." Byleth tugged on her hands. "Even the people around us have trouble imagining us working together. They'll see what they want to see."

               "It would require a great deal of effort convincing the Ministers. And then the arrangements for how I would manage the court while I was at Garreg Mach…"

               Byleth's heart surged. "So you're considering it?"

               Edelgard's lips curled into a smile. "I certainly wasn't expecting two proposals in as many days—both from former enemies. But yes… the idea has merit."

               Something that Byleth decided must be hope swirled through her veins. "Please, Edelgard," she said softly. "I can't do this without you. You have a clearer vision of what needs to change and how to change it." She squeezed Edelgard's fingers. "Guide my hand."

               Edelgard freed one of her hands so that she could press it against Byleth's cheek. "And is this what you want?"

               Byleth huffed. "I still don't particularly want to be archbishop—or Chief Cleric or whatever title they decide to give me, but I'll do it if it gets me what I do want."

               "Which is?" It was barely more than a whisper.

               "To walk with you. To change Fódlan together and stand in the light of a new dawn side by side."

               Edelgard leaned in, resting her forehead against Byleth's, and when she sighed, Byleth could feel the warmth of her breath against her skin. "I want that as well."

               Byleth captured her lips, drawing her close and basking in the heat of her skin and the softness of her touch. This felt certain, real. It felt… right.

               When Edelgard drew back, she was smiling, her gaze soft as she looked at Byleth. And then, wryly, "We may need to pretend to be on somewhat less good terms with each other for this arrangement to work."

               "I'll do my best imitation of the Ashen Demon," Byleth said very seriously, allowing her face to drop into that neutral expression that had been the norm for most of her life.

               Edelgard nodded approvingly. "I'm afraid I'll have to act quite cross with you during our public negotiations."

               "And I'll have to make a show of fighting for the Church's interests just to make sure our compromises seem hard-won."

               Edelgard wrinkled her nose. "I suppose you will." And then leaning close to whisper, lips brushing against her ear, "You'll have to make up for that when we're alone."

               Byleth shivered. "At least I'll have something to look forward to then," she said, stroking Edelgard's cheek. She drew back, her expression growing serious again. "I'll need to tell Claude about our plan so he doesn't work at counter purposes to us. The whole thing might even go over better if it's presented as his idea."

               "And you… trust him?"

               Byleth reached for Edelgard's hand again and held it to her beating heart. "I do."

               Edelgard nodded slowly. "Very well."  And then, sighing, "I'll need to tell Hubert once he's recovered." She raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure he'll approve of this development."

               "Maybe I can win him over," Byleth said. "Someone did once tell me I was notorious for being able to win anyone's good will."

               Edelgard chuckled, her violet eyes holding Byleth's gaze. "And so you are." After a beat, her eyes flitted to her office door. "We should probably head out. There's a good deal to be done in Enbarr still and you and I will need some time to plot out this little scheme of yours."

               "In a minute," Byleth whispered before leaning in to kiss Edelgard one more time. Edelgard's hands tangled in her hair and Byleth pulled her in tight. Byleth's heart was a pounding thing in her chest, but pressed close to Edelgard, she found she didn't mind its racing. Enveloped in Edelgard's warmth, Byleth let the knowledge that she was wanted, trusted, loved, sweep over her. An abiding sense of rightness settled over her like a warm blanket after a long journey, something comfortable, something that felt like home.

The End