Chapter Text
Edelgard curled up into the faux leather seat, sinking into the backseat cushions, and looked down at her vibrating phone as Metodey turned off the city street to her apartment complex towards the college campus. Dorothea’s latest stage name flashed across the screen, another ridiculous pun on her name, and she opted to ignore it for a few minutes.
Dorothea had been drowning her in excited text messages for the last half hour ever since Edelgard finally, reluctantly, agreed to attend one of her parties. She knew that they were never particularly large affairs, no more than a dozen people could squeeze into Dorothea and Bernadetta’s apartment, which was probably for the best for her skittish roommate. That knowledge wasn’t sufficient to turn the event from acceptable to something closer to good or exciting in Edelgard’s mind however.
Her hand played with her necklace, a twenty four karat gold thorny axe with a diamond inlaid in its curve, as it often did when she was anxious or deep in thought. Or, Edelgard reflected, in rare instances like these where she was somehow both concurrently. Her maroon, cashmere sweater was making her a touch too warm too, heat in her cheeks and a bit clammy on her forearms, despite only wearing a knee-length black skirt without any stockings and her favorite pair of black ankle boots.
She knew most, if not all, of the people who would be in attendance. That wasn’t the issue, she knew, but it was the easiest excuse to rely on regarding Dorothea. It had worked for a month, maybe two, with Edelgard only going out for more controlled, small group invites with her closest friends and Dimitri but eventually Dorothea had caught on.
Dorothea had sent the guest list a week in advance this time via email, no more than a dozen people at most, and all of them Edelgard considered family, close friends, or acceptable enough acquaintances. It was at Dorothea's apartment, which meant another excuse was out the window. Her final, weakest one was regarding how late they usually started but Dorothea had this one starting at a reasonable eight on a Friday evening.
Metodey honked, the utility vehicle emitting a loud if low-register complaint, and hit the brake as the vehicle gently shook for a moment.
“Apologies, Miss Edelgard, for that interruption.” His leather-gloved hands firmly gripped the wheel as he glanced into the back mirror and smiled up at her. “Someone ahead doesn’t know how to drive, I’m afraid.”
“No need to apologize, Metodey, I understand that these things can’t be helped sometimes.” Edelgard looked up at him for a moment before turning her attention back to her phone. “I do think it is a tad warm in here. Wouldn’t you agree?”
She was met with a fresh blast from the air conditioning vents overhead, her sweater no longer so itchy and clinging to her arms as she unlocked her phone.
DoroTea: Hey gurl heyyyyyy
CagedBird: Hello. Can we do away with these ridiculous nicknames you've made for us; I am hardly a caged bird and what is a DoroTea?
DoroTea: Nah
DoroTea: You're totally a caged bird til your butt gets over here
DoroTea: And this is my new DJ name for when I make it big
CagedBird: Because you're making a pun on your name, you like gossip, and you're gay?
DoroTea: Duh esp bc I'm gay
DoroTea: mmmm girls
CagedBird: Women are in fact beautiful. I noticed you didn't include Ingrid on your invite by the way.
DoroTea: that is one noodle I can't get wet enough
CagedBird: Dorothea!
DoroTea: Youce been saying it for years
DoroTea: So you right
CagedBird: Be there in a few. Don't pregame too much.
DoroTea: Good!!!! You need to get out. It's been months and we're all here for you
DoroTea: I got you that white wine you liiiiiike
Edelgard slipped her phone back into her red leather clutch, looping its silver chain around her wrist as she held onto it. That chardonnay was her favorite drink she had found since she turned twenty one two years ago, crisp and clean with a lovely apple aftertaste.
It was about time, Edelgard thought, for Dorothea to finally accept that Ingrid was never going to feel the same way towards her. Even Edelgard could tell that Ingrid was uninterested in women and she never even had a real girlfriend, much to Dorothea's constant teasing and ill-fated attempts at setting her up on dates.
“I know it is rather silly for a woman of your age to be told this and that you are mature, but your Uncle told me to pass a message along to you given…” Metodey politely coughed with one gloved hand, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. “He wanted you to be safe, mind your drink, and to call or text me should you need anything least of all transport. You have my number, Miss Edelgard?”
She nodded, then chuckled to herself realizing he wasn't looking away from the street traffic. “Yes, I have your number Metodey. I anticipate staying over there this evening, your services shouldn't be required further and please tell my Uncle that the concern is appreciated but unnecessary. This is a small gathering of close friends, the first time after…”
“I know, Miss, and your Uncle is here for you. Heck, if I may be so bold, count me in that support as well.” He grinned, slightly shaking his head. “I've grown fond of you these past few months together despite the circumstance of my chauffeuring you. You're going to do great things in Enbarr.”
Edelgard brought her hand over her mouth but was careful to avoid smearing her red lipstick, trying to hide the light blush across her face. “You're embarrassing me, Metodey, and are far too kind. But I reciprocate the sentiment, I can see why Uncle Volkhard is so fond of you.”
“Mighty nice of you to say, Miss.” Metodey tipped his cap at her.
She leaned one elbow against the car door, watching the street lights and the city skyline pass by as she began to recognize her surroundings.
Just a few more minutes to Dorothea's apartment and the first party since her father passed away.
***
Edelgard found herself standing outside Dorothea's apartment, lingering in the third floor hallway as she considered whether to knock or simply invite herself in. It would be rude to barge in, but she could hear the bass of the music thumping away on the other side of the door and she had been invited.
The door opened as Caspar and Linhardt emerged, the blue haired man holding an unlit cigarette between his lips, and they both gave her a friendly wave as they headed down the hallway. Linhardt held a brown bag in one hand, the pair of them wrapped up in each other's coats as they held hands down the hallway.
That was new, Edelgard realized, as the couple turned into the elevator to go smoke outside. They'd made out a time or two last Spring semester, right before summer break, but she hadn't known they'd become official. Maybe she was really out of the loop.
But they left the apartment door open and Edelgard took the opportunity, slipping right on inside and letting the door close behind her quietly.
“Boys, you're back so soon-” Petra spun around to look at her, confusion still plastered across her face before changing into excitement. She wore a pair of denim shorts with a lavender halter top, her tattoos and muscles clearly visible across her arms and shoulders, as she held a beer in one hand and waved with the other. “Friend Edelgard!”
“Edie is here?” Dorothea screamed from another room and Edelgard mentally prepared herself for the oncoming storm-
A drunken ball of long, straight white hair crashed into Edelgard’s chest and squeezed her tight in a messy hug. Edelgard could smell the honeyed mead before she could see it, Lysithea looking up at her with glassy, bloodshot pupils. “You made it! I missed you, El!”
Edelgard smiled at the sight, pulling Lysithea closer and combed her fingers through the shorter woman’s hair. She was a second year now, Edelgard supposed, but had managed to skip a few years in their private school which meant she was one of the rare few that Edelgard actually managed to dwarf in height. It didn’t matter, Lysithea was like a little sister to her either way but Edelgard suddenly felt a twinge of guilt at the sight of Lysithea contentedly leaning into the hug.
She held Lysithea tight, for as long as Lysithea needed in her inebriated state, and looked around the room in anticipation for Dorothea.
Ferdinand was in the living room with Marianne and Dimitri circled around a table with a deck of cards, Bernadetta was perched in her big, comfy chair crocheting, and Petra was lingering in the connected kitchen eating a handful of grapes. She waved to everyone, Dimitri and Petra in particular, as she smiled at her favorite Chardonnay out on the kitchen counter waiting.
It wasn’t a long wait.
“Edie!” Dorothea called out from across the living room. She wore her favorite strapless red dress, ending at her mid thigh, and a pair of black boots they'd bought together shopping last year.
As her friend walked, arms wide, across the living room to the foyer where Edelgard was still in Lysithea's grip, Edelgard caught Petra staring at Dorothea. She exchanged a glance with Petra but said nothing, making a mental note to try and wingwoman if possible. Dorothea had been pining over Ingrid, one of Dimitri's friends, for years now.
She deserved some real romance.
Dorothea walked up to her and joined in the hug, thereby making it a group one, as she laid her head against Edie’s shoulder and sighed. “I’m glad you made it out, Edie. Thank you.”
“You shouldn't have to thank me for simply showing up.” Edelgard chastely kissed the top of Dorothea’s head, earning a contented sigh in return.
“You shouldn’t have to make me beg to see you.” Dorothea quietly said, still audible above the thumping house music.
“I deserved that.” Edelgard whispered.
“Hey! She’s here now and-” Lysithea hiccuped, “-and that’s what matters!”
Dorothea broke the hug, looking down at Edelgard because of course Dorothea would wear a pair of boots just to negate the height gained by her own pair. She stared for a moment, her countenance broken by a growing smile. “I agree, Lysi, but I have to call her on these things or she’ll forget and try to defend herself later.”
“Well, if I recall correctly, there is a bottle waiting for me here.” Edelgard smiled back at Dorothea.
She really did deserve to be called out for her antisocial behavior as of late, Edelgard knew that, but being defended by Lysithea meant a lot to her. These were her friends and, as Dorothea’s wan smile grew elated, Edelgard had seemed to forget that amidst her own sorrow. Her father had spent so long in the arduous process of dying that she’d forgotten he would actually die by the end of it, his past few years in the hospital closely resembling her mother’s tribulations the better part of two decades ago.
Lysithea was still glued to her chest, not letting go, and Edelgard could only laugh as Dorothea and Lysithea joined in. She was surrounded by friends now, a few of them even practically her family, and she deserved a break from these insidious thoughts that plagued her.
They would make sure she wouldn’t be alone, not in the ways that mattered, and she never felt richer than looking to the wider room of people she was lucky to count as her friends.
***
Dimitri, Ferdinand, and Caspar were locked in a fierce keg stand competition in the kitchen. Dorothea and Petra were encouraging the three in their antics, Edelgard unsure how they kept dodging noise complaints, while Marianne stood off to the side quietly cheering on Dimitri.
She ought to talk to him before the night was over. They'd been so close as kids, Edelgard brushed the tips of her fingers against the golden axe dangling from her necklace, until her mom had passed. They were adults now, they could be close again if she could but muster the courage to reach out her hand to him.
Bernadetta had retreated back to her room, the ruckus much too loud for her, while Linhardt had retreated into his phone to decompress for a bit on the couch. It was difficult to blame him for being overstimulated when she had fled to the far well herself, eager to make some space between her and the others.
The distance she'd imposed on the others had been greater than she thought, normally she could socialize at least another hour or two without letting up. If there was any consolation to be had, however, it was watching Petra eye Dorothea up and down as the two of them spoke. Dorothea kept gradually inching towards Petra, consciously or not, as their hands brushed against one another's.
She wasn't sure when this had happened, whatever was going on between the two of them, but it had been cute so far tonight to watch. Dorothea said something to Petra, the foreign student twirling her hair off to one side, and Dorothea blushed.
Edelgard cupped her glass of white wine between her thumb and forefinger as she turned towards the living room window, staring out into the parking lot to keep herself from being a creep with her friends.
She had tucked Lysithea into the guest bed a bit ago, the shorter woman practically dozing off onto the arm of the couch during a drinking game. Soon she would join the younger woman, she fought off a yawn, the pair of them often sleeping together in the guest bed. Partially because it was an efficient usage of space for visitors to sleep, partially because Edelgard had best friend rights to Dorothea and had yet to make a mess of the sheets.
Edelgard frowned as she caught the large, boxy vehicle Metodey had driven tonight still in the parking lot with its lights on. She whipped out her phone and fired away a few messages.
Edelgard: You do not need to stay here tonight.
Edelgard: I know Uncle worries but I promise I am safe. I've had a few glasses of wine, I have known everyone here for years, and I am about to retire for the evening.
Edelgard: Please do the same, Metodey.
She lingered by the window for a few minutes, checking her phone intermittently as she nursed the remainder of the chardonnay in her glass.
Once the glass was empty, after a few more minutes, it became clear that Metodey had no interest in leaving her unattended.
With a shake of her head, she waved off Dorothea and Petra with a smile as she mimed taking a smoke break with her hands and headed for the apartment door. Dorothea frowned for a moment before resuming her smile, knowing full well that Edelgard only smoked on rare occasions. She would pay for the deception later, prepared for a full interrogation by Dorothea, but it was an easier excuse than to try and explain Metodey’s steadfast refusal to leave.
She closed the apartment door behind her and, with a shake of her head at her foolishly kind-hearted chauffeur, left to go tell him to his face what she’d already communicated via phone.
Everyone was safe, nothing was going to happen tonight.
***
Her boots beat a steady rhythm against the pavement, phone clutched in her hand at her side as she walked towards the latest vehicle that Metodey had been driving as of late. She couldn’t remember much about the car other than it was black, luxurious to the point of bordering on decadent, and had a few overlapping circles emblazoned on the front as a logo. The lowlights were still on, casting an orange glow around the car, and that was enough for Edelgard to feel confident that she had identified the correct vehicle as she strode towards the parking lot across the street.
She made sure to walk under the streetlights as she crossed the street over to the parking lot, despite the lack of any traffic on wheels or foot she’d rather be safe than sorry about such things. She could hear Uncle Volkhard reminding her that it took only one bad day, one act of misfortune, for things to come crashing down and this small act of safety didn’t really impede her mission.
Metodey was too kind of a man to spend all night sleeping- hopefully sleeping, she corrected herself, in the car waiting on her while she slept in a bed and likely had brunch with her friends in the morning. She didn’t know where Uncle had found him, but surely Metodey would want to enjoy his weekend too and deserved a break from chauffeuring her around and whatever else he must be doing during the work week.
Edelgard rounded the black vehicle and her brows furrowed.
The driver side door was wide open, one of Metodey’s legs dangling off the side.
She rushed forward.
Her stomach threatened to revolt. She clenched her jaw to fight back the scream building in her lungs.
She closed her eyes, tightly, and took a step away from the vehicle as she tried to process what she saw without getting into the intimate details.
A hole had been carved into Metodey’s chest over the heart. She was no expert in anatomy, but it looked like his heart was missing.
Metodey's eyes had been ripped out of their sockets, his body reclined back to look like it was resting. Ashes had been strewn across his face, almost in a mimicry of religious traditions.
His phone rested on a manila envelope across his lap, bright and unlocked.
Her heart was pounding in her chest, knuckles white wrapped around her phone, and she found herself grateful for the rapid beating of it in her ribcage.
She stepped back to Metodey, to the body, and carefully compartmentalized her vision down to only look at the phone and envelope much as she had been able to ignore the cables and tubes connected to her father a few months ago in the hospital. Her free hand snatched the phone and envelope both in one fell swoop before she retreated once more.
His phone was still lit up, clearly unlocked, and a message had been typed in their chat but unsent:
“You are in no danger, Edelgard. Please look inside the envelope to find a letter and photographs. Be sure to follow the instructions for your own safety.”
She pocketed the phone and examined the envelope, trying her best to ignore the tremble in her hands. The killer, whoever left this, knew her and knew well enough that she would be the one to find Metodey. The assurance of her safety didn't mean much when her chauffeur, dare she say friend, was dead in the car she'd ridden around for the past few weeks.
Edelgard looked around the parking lot in vain, trying to see if she found anything out of the ordinary. She was exceptionally out of her depth, vision blurred at the edges from the wine, and on some level had to accept the killer's note as truth because she wasn't dead already.
Hesitantly, she undid the envelope to find a letter and photographs tucked away inside. As much as it pained her to follow the instructions provided to her, she ignored the photographs for now in favor of the letter and began to read.
Edelgard,
I understand this may be an unseemly request, but please do not tell anyone what you have seen here and especially so regarding your Uncle Volkhard (known in my world as Thales). You are in no danger here despite the circumstance, I give you my word.
From one lonely soul to another, I understand why you haven’t been out much lately and what you are going through. My father died recently too, at the hands of one of Thales’ lieutenants. Please read the remainder of this letter and examine the photographs, evidence of Metodey’s many sins, at a later date in private. For now, go enjoy the party with your friends.
She slowly let out a breath at the realization she had a stalker, one hand wrapped around her necklace, and resumed reading despite the tremble in her hands.
I half-expect you ignored my request to finish reading this at a later date, curiosity getting the best of you, and in that case I ask again for you to not call your Uncle under any circumstances.
Either way, Metodey was responsible for a great deal of human trafficking through Enbarr. Undocumented slave labor, sex trafficking, and so on. These photos are but a glimpse into his work. I do not wish to disturb you unduly and I know I have no right to ask for your trust, but if nothing else please do not consider Thales to be worthy of it either.
Many call me the Ashen Killer, but for now you may call me Dianthus. I will be in touch.
Edelgard collected herself as best she could, trying her best to ignore Metodey’s corpse right in front of her, and sighed as she looked in the envelope. She didn’t want to see these pictures, couldn’t believe these allegations against her chauffeur who had been nothing but sweet and kind to her, but she had to hope that his death had just cause behind it. Even if justice wasn’t served, no daughter of Anselma Hresvelg could admit to that without a trial by a jury of the man’s peers, perhaps this Dianthus could at least have a reasonable motivation to act as they had.
Her fingers plucked out the photographs, high resolution though black and white, and she clenched her jaw instead of screaming. People milled about in chains, bruised and beaten, with Metodey beating one over the back with a club. Others involved drugs, needles, half-clothed folk with Metodey in most frames and Edelgard had seen enough of his involvement to be convinced.
Her stomach churned as she slipped the photographs back into the envelope along with the letter, her free hand instinctively reaching for her stomach. She closed the car door, wandering to the nearest streetlight on the way back to Dorothea and Bernadetta's for safety, and burped. The wine surely didn’t help, Edelgard thought, but it wasn’t from the alcohol, the photographs now in her possession, or even the corpse decomposing near her. No, she shook her head, the sinking feeling in her stomach was far more selfish and self-centered than that.
If Dianthus was right about her Uncle, despite Edelgard's hopes to the contrary, her only blood relation and beloved Uncle was a monster in disguise.