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Ferdinand struggled to reach the camp where Mercedes had gathered the survivors. There had been many tasks to set upon in the last twenty-four hours. First had been to stamp out the blazing streets, which seemed a simple task with ice magic but had taken valuable time and practically exhausted Constance out of any other work. Then, disposal of the body. Edelgard had insisted it was paramount that Rhea’s bones not be accessible to Lord Arundel, so with some work they had managed to burn away the flesh until the cracked pieces of bone were nothing. Edelgard had locked the Crest stone away in a silver chest and thrown it into the ocean north of them; the precautions seemed, to Ferdinand, unwarranted, but he did not doubt they were based on some understanding of Arundel’s foul arts.
While they had done that, a segment of the army had constructed a camp outside the city walls. Mercedes had immediately settled there along with Dorothea and Professor Manuela. The three had dragged Linhardt in as well to craft a makeshift clinic, and the city’s residents began funneling in. Some were wary, as was only to be expected of an occupied people, but word of mouth spread swiftly in a dying city. After the other tasks were completed, the entire Black Eagle Strike Force began coordinating rescue operations. Their variety of specialized skills and team cohesion made it an ideal task for them, and no exhaustion could compare to the drive to help the innocent! So it was that Ferdinand found himself carrying a child, her mother and father clinging to his arms, as he trudged towards the camp.
“You will all be safe here.” He handed the girl to her father. Her leg had been caught in a collapsing building, and she was already unconscious from inhaling smoke. Her parents had been frantic to escape the path of the small remnant of wildfire when Ferdinand arrived. Small mercies, the only ones which he could offer to the people of Faerghus now, set his conscience at ease.
Ferdinand turned away from the camp as Mercedes ushered the family in, Manuela already preparing a cold drink and some device to listen to their breathing. He was greeted by Hubert’s inscrutable eyes, scanning the camp.
“I have to commend all of you. The people of Faerghus will remember us in… a more nuanced light than otherwise. You’ve certainly eased the transition of governance.” Ferdinand sighed, but he couldn’t be angry. He hadn’t the energy.
“You are as pragmatic as ever, Hubert. Must you view every action as a political statement? People are in need, so we helped them. Now, please move. There are countless more civilians in need of rescue.” Hubert stepped aside, but Ferdnand could tell he was still observing. When was he not….
— — — —
Edelgard’s hands were cracked, some calluses bleeding from tearing across the battlefield. Her legs were burned, and so were her lungs. Still, she soldiered onward. Byleth, thanks to whatever strange Crest magics had beaten in their blood, was still alive. The lengths gone to pursue them were abhorrent, the reverence paid at the altar of their value unearned, but let no one say their power could not be useful. Even now, Edelgard felt the power of Seiros keeping her body from overheating, the strength of the magic in her veins letting her break down crumbling walls and drag the people to safety. The Crests, too, burned - the sharp agony of a muscle misused until it was ready to give out. Useful they may be at times, but her Crests never let the consequence of their power go forgotten. Still, burning herself out to save the people of Fodlan was what she had resolved to do years ago. If anything, a physical reminder could serve to temper that resolve until-
“Edie?” A hand on her arm shook her out of the path of her thoughts.
“Oh- Dorothea.” Edelgard had been startled, at first, but she never showed such things. She smiled faintly. “Do you need me to help carry something? Move something? There hasn’t been trouble at camp, has there?”
“I… Edie, you look exhausted. Have you taken even one break since the fighting started?”
“I don’t need to take breaks, Dorothea. I need to be an example. I’m the Emperor, after all. And I can keep going.” Edelgard could tell Dorothea didn’t believe her, and that stirred a sense of deep affection. She had the feeling that Dorothea’s heart wasn’t available - the way her dearest friend often let her gaze linger on Hubert, or the way she caught Hubert planning more time exclusively for the songstress even at the expense of his precious service to her, gave
that impression clearly. Edelgard was not one for jealousy or daydreaming. She congratulated Hubert, internally, and reminded herself that it shouldn’t be so unusual to be cared for as to set her heart aflutter. One could be loved without being in love. And it spoke to the love Dorothea showed her that she didn’t point to Edelgard’s lie. To call it out directly would have made it feel more real. Instead, Dorothea sighed delicately and turned.
“I could use your help, if you’re sure. Come with me.” Edelgard followed. She was sure Dorothea would have something relatively light for her to do, which she was certain could serve as… enough rest. She fell into the blank mindset of a marching soldier, hurrying alongside Dorothea and losing herself in the rhythm of footsteps. The more she thought, the more it hurt - and when they reached the camp, Edelgard had to take a moment before turning to Hubert as they arrived.
“Lady Edelgard. Dorothea. I’m afraid he has gone inside.” Hubert gestured to the basement of a building. Edelgard knew immediately who he was talking about.
“Ferdinand?” Dorothea nodded.
“We’re worried - it sounded like something might have fallen, and he isn’t responding. I… if you’re willing…” Her tone was fraught with worry, and even Hubert looked concerned. Dorothea held out something wrapped in a blanket.
“You might be able to use this too. Just… don’t overdo it?” Edelgard laughed.
“Do you forget who I am? We’ll be out in just a moment.” She hurried into the basement, only to feel a shiver down her spine. Dark magic… it couldn’t be-
Ferdinand was standing in a completely uncollapsed basement, examining the supports.
“Edelgard? Have you come to help me? I… do not think I need assistance, unless you have an undisclosed fascination with masonry. Hubert’s worries seem unfounded. The support beams are sturdy, and the fire did not reach-” He fell silent, perhaps shaken by Edelgard’s mixture of anger and shock.
“...Edelgard?”
“Hubert sent you down here?”
“Well, yes. He said he needed my help assessing the structural stability of a location before moving any of the civilians-” Edelgard had already turned, staring straight into the wall of dark magic that marked the entrance to the basement.
”Hubert! Dorothea!” The first thing she heard from the other side of the dark barrier made her flush scarlet, and had her considering recanting every fond thought she’d had earlier.
Dorothea was laughing at her.
“Sorry, Edie, but you two are trying to kill yourselves. You can’t get out, not without collapsing the basement, and you can’t do any work in there. So, Hubie’s orders are that you relax.”
Edelgard’s emotions, at least, had finally settled. She was not confused or embarrassed anymore.
She was angry.
— — — —
Ferdinand was still mostly puzzled by the situation.
“Surely, we have more we could be doing out among the people? Was… was this all a lie? Edelgard, did you know about this?”
“No,” said Edelgard, her determination plain in her voice as she paced next to the stairs. “But I can’t see any escape. They planned well, and they- I’m such a fool! Of course Hubert and Dorothea are both consummate liars-” She looked at the lump in her hands.
“What did they send me with, I wonder-” She unwrapped the blanket to reveal a basket. The absurdity made Ferdinand laugh. After a moment, Edelgard joined.
“I… suppose our companions did not want us to go hungry,” Ferdinand observed. Edelgard opened the basket, revealing sandwiches, sweets, fresh fruit and vegetables from the plains outside, and - to Ferdinand’s delight - tea.
“I… suppose we ought to replenish our strength,” said Edelgard ruefully. “Playing their game is likely our best opportunity to escape.” She glanced at the tea, then conjured a Fire circle.
“Bergamot blend, I see. Hubert is always thoughtful.” Ferdinand nodded. “That is your favorite, is it not, Edelgard?” Edelgard glanced at him, and Ferdinand couldn’t tell whether she was surprised or simply pleased. She nodded in turn.
“And… what is this?” Edelgard asked, lifting a slightly smashed cake. It was decorated with yellow and black stripes, as well as the scales of Saint Cichol. Ferdinand glanced away.
“I… Dorothea must have made it. For me.” Edelgard’s confusion was obvious, so he elaborated.
“She… once told me I was like a bee. I assume she gave us these bee cakes in reference to that?” Something changed in Edelgard’s expression, and Ferdinand frowned.
“Would you… like one?” Edelgard shook her head.
“I… I was just thinking. Dorothea made these. She must have had them ready - it’s not as though she stopped to bake them mid-mission.” Ferdinand frowned.
“I… yes, I suppose she did. Is that a concern? Days-old cakes are perhaps not the most scrumptious, but they are more than many soldiers in the fields claim-”
“Not that!” Edelgard rested her forehead in her hands, her frustration tangible. Ferdinand tried to decide how he could help. Perhaps by offering a hand?
“I- Dorothea must have made these for your birthday, Ferdinand. To celebrate after the battle. Yesterday.” It took Ferdinand a moment to process.
“Edelgard- surely you are not feeling guilty? We have had far more pressing matters to attend - I would never have expected you to…”
“No- not to stop and celebrate, Ferdinand, I just… I should have said something.” Ferdinand laughed a little.
“You, Edelgard? I assure you, I did not expect you to stop and elevate me. I need no such thing. I… may have once expected it but do you still believe I would-” Edelgard reached out and grabbed Ferdinand’s hand.
“Ferdinand, stop!” He fell silent.
“I… I regret not honoring you, Ferdinand, not because of your status or any such expectation. You’ve been a stalwart ally, and you’re someone I respect. Because of that, I wish I had had the presence of mind just… to acknowledge you. Nothing more than that.” Ferdinand considered a moment. Edelgard was correct, of course. But hearing her say so in as many words - that she respected, perhaps even admired, him - left a warm feeling in his chest.
“Perhaps we can simply enjoy this meal together, then? It will serve as acknowledgement enough for me.” Edelgard’s faint smile left an equally faint dusting of pink on Ferdinand’s cheeks - a color shift she would thankfully miss, in the flickering firelight.
“Then it will, for me, as well, Ferdinand.”
— — — —
The two of them ate comfortably together, putting out the fire once the tea was made. Edelgard wasn’t certain whether smoke was escaping the room but with their lungs already raw from the smoke, she didn’t care to take chances. She had to admit, the silence, the simple meal, and the company made her feel the exhaustion deep in her bones. Ferdinand’s heavy expression let her know that he was likely feeling the same.
“Do you think they’re going to let us out?” Ferdinand seemed surprised by the question.
“...not until they are satisfied that we are well-rested. I suspect we will need to give it a few hours.” Edelgard sighed.
“I… think we should try to sleep some. I can tell you aren’t ready to go back out there.” Ferdinand looked like he might protest, but he nodded. Edelgard shivered - she wasn’t accustomed to the Faerghan nights. She glanced up, and Ferdinand was already handing her the blanket.
“Ferdinand- no, please. You can keep it. We won’t be here long enough that I’ll be in any danger.”
“Edelgard, please-” Ferdinand’s plea was just so earnest that Edelgard fell silent.
“Our friends placed us here out of fear that we were overworked. Perhaps they were right; I know we agree that the Empire demands our very best. But I am… nothing. You are a symbol, and you are our ruler, and Edelgard, you… are more important than any other. And I know - I know you know that I am aware of what a weight rests upon your body.” Ferdinand stood, and Edelgard couldn’t help but stare as he approached, and wrapped the blanket around her. She felt the same rush of affection as she had when Dorothea had asked after her, but she stifled it. Was she so desperate for the affection of those around her that she- ugh. She pulled the blanket around herself.
“Ferdinand, I…”
“You do not need to suffer any more. I would not see you suffer any more than you already have, Edelgard, for our sake. Let me ease your burdens.” Edelgard was struggling to maintain her composure already, and she was, unfortunately, getting quite sleepy.
“...we can rest together, Ferdinand. There’s room enough.” It wasn’t such an exceptional event. Ferdinand seemed taken aback for a moment, but not long. He laid down next to her and rolled under the blanket.
This wasn’t an exceptionally unusual situation. Soldiers on campaign often slept under the same blanket. Edelgard had shared with Hubert more times than she could count, Dorothea, Petra, Bernadetta, Ladislava, Byleth, and…
Well. Even Ferdinand a few times. There was an unspoken agreement not to judge one another if one ended up in a close embrace. It did not make Edelgard feel any less embarrassed. Still, as she closed her eyes and fell asleep, she couldn’t deny how profoundly comfortable she was like this.
— — — —
“Are they asleep?” Dorothea whispered, trying to peek through the dark wall. Hubert glanced back, then dispelled it.
“Yes. Yet again, you’ve come out on top.”
“I always do, Hubie.” Dorothea rested a hand on his upper arm briefly, long enough to make sure he blushed at the tease before continuing.
“You develop a sense for these things, you know. They’re both so certain the Empire demands everything they have to give… Edie needs someone who can keep up with her, Ferdie someone who will rein him in. You watch. It’ll take them time to admit it, but this is going to be good for them.”
“Of course, Dorothea.”
“Mm. Good boy.” Dorothea joked, blowing Hubert a kiss before her expression grew a little more solemn.
“...seriously, though. Edie and Ferdie might have needed a break, but there’s a lot of work to do. It’s the curse of knowing your limits, I suppose; having to keep the mill turning when they all pass out.
“I am afraid I cannot say how that feels. I will simply take your word for it.” It was nice that he could acknowledge it, but Dorothea didn’t plan on letting him work himself to the bone either. Edie and Ferdie might start plotting revenge once they woke up.
She could play along. It was an actress’ role, after all.