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"And Adrestia has reported a 16% increase in grain reserves, thanks to the ample rainfall during the spring. The harvest at Gronder was-"
Byleth scribbled her notes as the Adrestian minister droned on, his dull voice echoing throughout the House of Peers chamber. She scanned the room, noticing the way Ferdinand proudly nodded and puffed his chest as the Adrestian agriculture report was being delivered. Seated next to him, Caspar's eyelids looked suspiciously heavy - and on his left, Linhardt wasn't even hiding the fact that he had dozed off. The scene struck a chord of nostalgia in Byleth’s chest of her teaching days. Some things never change.
Each House of Peers session was the promise of a wonderful time - a chance for her and her prior students-turned-friends from each and every corner of Fodlan to reunite. Unfortunately, there was little time for camaraderie when a country was to be governed.
Byleth absentmindedly switched her gaze to the left side of the room, where the representatives from Faerghus sat. Annette looked as enthusiastic as she did during the lessons Byleth used to lead many moons ago, her big blue eyes narrowed as she recorded her notes with the utmost concentration. Byleth let herself steal a glance at Dimitri, seated between Sylvain and Felix, who both looked mature and distinguished in their own right. Dimitri was diligently taking notes, which Byleth figured she should probably be doing at this very moment. Instead, she let her gaze linger on him. It would be easy to get distracted in admiring the King of Fodlan. To focus on his chiseled jawline or perfectly straight nose. Or get lost in that sparkling blue eye. The tease of his corded muscles peeking out at the lip of his collar. The broadness of his shoulders and that wonderful way his sun-spun hair looked pulled up into a ponytail. The plush softness of her husband’s lips or -
Slightly embarrassed at her line of thinking, Byleth quickly diverted her gaze away from him - but not before catching the arrogant, knowing smirk Sylvain was flashing her way. He of all people really should be paying attention - Gautier depends on Adrestian agriculture more than most territories.
Resisting the blush rising in her cheeks, Byleth settled back into listening to the report. She missed the status of the buckwheat and potato crops, which was rather unfortunate, as those were important ones. Hoping Seteth had caught it, she glanced at the green haired man sat beside her. He recorded his meticulous notes in a beautiful scrawl, writing down every syllable of information spilled in an organized format. At least someone from the Church was paying attention... she really needed to pass on the title of Archbishop to him one of these days.
The meetings were held at Garreg Mach as the focal point between the three landscapes and lasted for two moons. But it made her happy to be back in the familiar walls of the monastery, the scent and friendly faces evoking a welcome nostalgia and sense of déjà vu. It was also a reprieve from the cruelty of Faerghan winters, as the meetings were deliberately scheduled during the crux of the cold.
The students of the Officer's Academy were also scheduled for break during this time, so Garreg Mach was spared the chaos of student life for the duration of the meetings.
"Apple production is up 3%. Black tea production rose by 9%. Cotton fell by 17% due to the mold that devastated the crop late last year, but that has largely been addressed thanks to the School of Sorcery."
The imposing wooden doors of the House chamber stirred, and Byleth’s attention was once again diverted to the interruption. It was common for people to filter in and out, and she figured it was likely another advisor flitting in with a stack of papers or a report or whatnot. Most everyone ignored such an interruption, but some habits die hard for a war hardened ex-mercenary, and her reflexes beckoned her attention towards a disruption.
To her surprise, a familiar little blonde boy entered, damn near identical to the King of Faerghus. The child's crystal blue eyes furrowed together, deliberately scanning the room. Without a second thought, she immediately stood — and in almost cosmic tandem, Dimitri had risen as well, his focus narrowly fixated on the little one, dressed in brilliant blues that made his round doe eyes shine even brighter.
With the two most important people in the chamber disrupting the meeting, the room fell to a pensive silence. Because their uninvited guest was not just any little boy. Rather, he was the King and Archbishop's six year old son, Leon Lambert Blaiddyd - the crown prince of Fodlan himself, who Byleth knew was well aware of his parents’ duties. He was meant to be in lessons and even had his cousins and Flayn to keep him company; yet instead he was interrupting the room of the highest level of democratic decision making across Fodlan.
Leon, now easily able to spot his parents in the crowd, came scrambling to her seat, deliberately passing by his father. Byleth noticed the way Dimitri tensed with concern. He worried enough for the both of them, but in this case, her nerves were beginning to buzz as well. Something certainly must have happened for their son to seek them out in the midst of a House meeting. Why was he unaccompanied? Her mind swarmed with hypotheticals and unlikely conspiracies trying to piece together the reason her young son was making his way to her.
When he approached her, she bent down to his level, inspecting every visible inch of him at lightning speed without letting her worry show to the many nobles and political leaders in the audience.
Golden blonde hair with not a strand out of place, ice-blue eyes shining like a pond frozen over, his tunic pressed perfectly against him. He looked at her with eager anticipation, apparently unharmed much to her relief. To wordlessly answer, Byleth gave him a curt nod, leaning toward him.
***
Dimitri wished he could raze through the crowd to get to Byleth and his son. The silence of the room was nearly deafening, and he could only watch with bated breath as his wife squatted down and his son cupped small hands around her left ear, moving close to press his lips against her mint hair to whisper his message. The anticipation of the unknown was eating at him - their son had never so much as interrupted a meeting between himself and Felix before - something truly dire must have occurred...
Dimitri tried desperately to read his wife's face, but she refused to drop her guard. Probably wise in front of such a crowd, but he wished she would give him a sign as Leon was still frantically whispering in her ear. He watched as Byleth pulled away, rising back up to stand. She patted their son's hair quickly then took his hand in her own.
"Apologies for the disruption, all." His beloved announced, her voice unwavering - without so much as a tinge of emotion to allow him to uncover whether something was afoot. "It is nothing to concern yourselves over, but I will be taking a momentary leave. Please continue, and Seteth will advise in my place on behalf of the Church." She addressed the room, still and silent and awaiting direction. Beside her, Seteth wore a deep frown, but he simply nodded at Byleth through pinched brows.
Dimitri began panicking internally now. She was leaving with their son? He must leave as well in that case - better yet, he would sling Byleth over one shoulder and their son over another, and deliver them both to safety to assess the situation. Maybe even run them straight to the stables and ride back to Faerghus and -
“Your Majesty, you should remain here. Nobody has been harmed or is in apparent danger, so there is no need for concern." His wife's voice broke him out of his thoughts, and when he met her eyes, she finally bore emotions. In the slight raise her brow, in the sparkle of those seafoam green eyes. Dimitri could read Byleth's minutia, and in her gaze she told him —trust me.
He watched helplessly as his wife and son left the chamber, hand in hand. Despite her instruction, he was ready to chase her out - damn the meeting, damn all the people here, damn everything - until a hand on his sleeve yanked him back down into his seat. Felix whispered a harsh "you heard her" from beside him, and Sylvain offered a shrug from his place on Dimitri’s right.
And though he had heard his wife, he did not hear another word uttered for the next thirty minutes. Just what was so wrong that their son needed to fetch Byleth? Why was a six year old alone? He was meant to be training with Felix and Annette's, Dedue and Mercedes', and Sylvain and Ingrid's children. Where was Flayn who was meant to keep an eye on him? And why was this a specific request for Byleth only? What about Papa…? The questions consumed his mind, and when the group was finally dismissed for the afternoon adjournment, he darted from his seat, without so much as a passing glance at Felix and Sylvain and Dedue, who were each saying something to him that he completely missed.
“Your Majesty!” A high pitched and airy, but clearly displeased, voice called out. Flayn was perched by the entrance, seemingly awaiting his exit. Her expression was…downtrodden, defeated perhaps. The ugly anxiety rose in his gut like bitter poison.
“Just…follow me.” She delivered with a sigh, and Dimitri was not used to such few words from the girl. He followed her down the stone steps, through the reception hall, past the pond and near…the dining hall?
Confused, Dimitri pleaded with Flayn for more information again, and she finally relented.
“Your son is truly Byleth’s blood. He darted away from me and ran straight to the Peers Chamber, and I almost had a heart attack! I need to keep that boy on a leash, I think. Or at least restrict him from - Oh no, do I finally understand the reason for my brother’s protectiveness? Oh no, no no.” His son had broken Flayn it seemed. Dimitri would have to add that to the list of remediations the boy would have to dole out.
“Focus, Flayn!” He placed a steadying hand on the girl’s shoulder, who snapped her attention back to him despite the misery still painting her face. “Please take me to them.”
She snapped from her gaze and nodded her chin at him. “Yes, sorry. They’re here.” Flayn said as she led him to an alleyway.
A dark and dusty alleyway, nestled by the dining hall and leading towards the pond, completely unassuming. Dimitri fought his mind from running to assumptions. No, those who slither in the dark likely do not have a secret hideaway with entry in this alley. No, their son had not been caught trading with suspicious merchants.
Instead, as he rounded the corner, he stumbled upon a scene he never expected. Though, a scene he should have expected.
His wife and son, sitting cross-legged on the floor of this dirty alley, despite their palace finery, with tiny, snoozing kittens curled up in their laps and iridescent smiles plastering their faces. Byleth was holding three, sleepy little things snuggled up in a pile in the hammock of her dress. Their son was caressing a fluffy orange one.
When they saw him, they both looked to him and beamed. The sight was so enchanting he felt dizzy. Or perhaps that was the dissipating adrenaline. Maybe both.
“The stray cat that Mama and I feed, Ashes - she had her kittens!” His son delivered in an excited whisper so as to not disrupt the sleepy babies. “Look at how small they are, Papa!”
Feral cats…of course it was feral cats that his wife deemed important enough to leave a Peers meeting for - for his son to interrupt said meeting.
“We’ve been waiting foreverrrrr for her to give birth. And Mama and I promised each other that as soon as they were born, we would come to check on her and the kittens no matter what.” His son forgot to whisper that time, causing the kitten in his lap to unleash a closed-eye mewl in protest.
“Apologies, Dima. But it was a promise. And best back away, dear. Ashes is not fond of grown men.” Byleth hummed as a larger grey cat protectively prowled in front of his wife and son, back arched and eyes narrowed as she surveyed him.
He obeyed, taking two steps back as he mumbled his apologies to the new mother. He remembered when his own wife became a mother - she was just as fiercely protective of her little cub. Annette in all her clumsiness was unfortunately not allowed to hold him for weeks.
“Actually, Dima, would you mind fetching a fish for Ashes? She needs a good meal after delivering all these little ones.” Byleth murmured as she readjusted their son’s hands to demonstrate how to properly hold a newborn kitten.
He exhaled, staring at his stray cat loving wife, who had indoctrinated their son to her cause as well. And with an “of course, beloved,” he made a decisive path to the dining hall.