Chapter Text
The night was cooler than anything experienced previously. The air was still a heavy and humid thing, but the sea breeze was plentiful; gusting over sand and rock in even waves. The private stretch of coast afforded to the Macneary family was broad as it was neat. The sand was a pleasant shade of tan, just a shade from young honey. Large fingers of stone rose from the earth in sporadic clusters along the bank. Water lapped at their heels as they walked, shoes long discarded and feet sinking prints in their wake.
Edelgard stayed a step behind her lover. She watched the woman’s back flex with each step, shoulders a hard line of tension. Her hair fluttered behind in a tangled sweep of teal; neck seen in sparse glimpses between each toss of the wind. Byleth stopped as they finally reached the end of the beach. She waded to her knees before stilling, head tilted up to look at the canopy of stars above. As the Emperor observed her, a memory came to the forefront of her mind — standing at the edge of a dock with this same sight before her, heart aching from a love yet to be fulfilled. And just as she did then, Edelgard walked to her side.
Byleth did not look at her, mind still lost to her troubles. But the Emperor was far from deterred. If her lover believed she would shy away, the woman was sorely mistaken. If nothing else, Edelgard had learned how to be courageous in these matters. She was no longer the same faltering girl who believed love was beyond her. As Byleth asserted previously, she was an eagle. And eagles were brave and bold in the face of uncertainty. So the Emperor faced her bravely and took in the tight set of the other woman’s jaw.
Byleth did not move. She was unnervingly still, focused intently upon the open Brigid sky. Edelgard inspected her features in silence. The bruising along her nose was distracting, but not more than the thick crusting of blood along her upper lip and chin. Sighing, the Emperor wet her hands before reaching up to wipe the red stains away. Byleth blinked, squinting slightly, but allowed herself to be cleaned.
“This is familiar, isn’t it?” Edelgard began, allowing a smile to slowly tilt her lips. Her hands fell away, but the older woman kept her silence. She did not allow this to curb her tongue. “You and me under the stars...”
“Yes.” Byleth murmured abruptly. Her chest rose as she took a long breath. “Though at the time, I believe the clouds were obscuring the ones at Garreg Mach. Now we can see them clearly.” She paused, expression turning thoughtful. “I like them, I think. A funny thought, honestly, since I never gave much thought to it before.”
“To stars?”
“To anything, but yes.” Byleth finally looked away from the sky, meeting her gaze. “They’re beautiful and I wish I could have realized that before. My father… He tried to tell me a story about them when I was younger.”
“Really?” Edelgard asked gently. She leaned into her side, relaxing as Byleth allowed the movement.
“We were somewhere near the western edge of Faerghus, camping beside a stream.” Blue eyes glazed with memory, and perhaps more than a little melancholy. “He had been drinking heavily, so his words were slurred, but I remember the story well. It was about a girl who was lost in the wood, alone and frightened. She found her way home by recalling the stars where she lived.”
“A simple yet practical tale. As expected of Jeralt.” Edelgard felt her lover shift momentarily.
“That was probably the point. But I didn’t say anything to him. I never did, not really.” Byleth swallowed hard, throat flexing. “Unless he asked me a direct question, I typically ignored him. He always made the effort, however, even if it was just to comment on something innocuous.”
She slid into contemplative silence. Edelgard waited patiently, knowing not to press her. Eventually, Byleth began again, voice nearly inaudible.
“I wonder how he really felt about me. This broken thing who should have been a daughter, but wasn’t.”
“He loved you with all his heart. I think he made that clear, in the end.” Edelgard stepped around to face her so that they could look into each other’s eyes. To her shock, tears were glittering upon dark lashes. Byleth smiled, and it was a shaky thing of immeasurable regret.
“I know, but I still wonder… Did he always hope that one day I would look up and truly see him? As my father, and not the caretaker I vaguely acknowledged?” The older woman shivered, lips trembling. “Did he always wish to see that I cared for him in return?”
“Byleth...” Edelgard felt her heart lurch, aching for her lover. She took the woman’s face within her palms. The tears fell, spilling down soft skin. She brushed them aside, gentle; reverent. “He did see. You showed him at the very end, how very much you loved him. If nothing else, please believe that to be true.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Byleth seemed to steel herself, drawing back slightly. She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. A rare groan of frustration came from her mouth. “Forgive me. We were talking about stars and then I started ranting about my father. Not very logical of me, is it?”
“You can’t help what your thoughts turn to, nor how you feel.” Edelgard stepped closer, unwilling to cede her ground. There would be no running for either of them. Not this time. “It’s part of being human. The uncertainty, the pain, the guilt. Every emotion is one that you have earned. No matter the result.”
“And yet I still falter...” Byleth shook her head. Her cheeks were pale, and her eyes were creased with sadness. “It’s confusing and chaotic. With hardly any rhyme or reason. I can hardly make sense of it all.”
“That’s normal as well.” The Emperor smiled hesitantly. “Perhaps it’s selfish of me, but I cannot help but feel grateful for this change. I loved you as you were back then, all those years ago, but I have grown to love you more as you are now.”
“It’s not selfish. Not when I feel the same.” Byleth stared down at her for a time, gaze searching. She leaned in hesitantly. “I don’t want to go back to how I was; a half-person dreaming through life. I want to stay as I am, with all the pain and confusion that entails. Yet—”
“Yet?”
The older woman pursed her lips, brow furrowed with conflict.
“The things I did, El… They weigh on me greatly. Even if I was truly ignorant, I cannot forget the misery I inflicted. The death I dealt without regard or care. And who is to say I will not make the same mistakes again?”
“You are not as you were,” Edelgard insisted, voice firm. She held her lover’s gaze evenly and without compromise. There would be no room for misinterpretation. “You weren’t whole back then. Rhea’s doing or no. But who you are now is a woman with compassion; who is capable of remorse as well as great love. I’ve seen it, even before Rhea’s demise. Whatever crimes you committed, they hold no bearing on the person you have become. Nor do they mean you will return to that numb state.”
“I want to believe you...” Byleth trailed off. Her voice was rough; pained. “Yet I still feel like a monster. My memories feel like broken glass. A thousand cuts damning me for my inhumanity.”
“Do you want to talk about them?”
The older woman chuckled; a sound as dark and bitter as the sea.
“I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Then, how about the boy?” Edelgard watched her flinch, but she continued nonetheless. “You said it was murder, but surely the circumstances couldn’t be that simple. Jeralt never struck me as the type to accept a job that entailed something like that.”
“It wasn’t a job.” Byleth sighed heavily. She looked out over the water, gaze distant. “This happened many years ago. We had stopped in a village and were buying supplies. My father had me go to the stables to pay for a night’s stay. The area was too small for a proper inn, I think.” She fell into a contemplative silence. “The boy was a stable-hand, young and very excitable. He had been impressed by my father, as well as me. For whatever reason.”
“What happened?”
“He showed me around the stable, rattling on about something or another. I forget the specifics. I believe in hindsight he might have been trying to befriend me.” Cobalt eyes flickered, reflecting the water below them. “After a time, I decided to leave and head back to my father. Yet the boy wanted me to stay. He wouldn’t let me go, and kept tugging on my arm.”
Byleth’s mouth twisted; a grimace of shame.
“In my head, I only knew that Jeralt wanted me to return to him. And there was a very blatant obstacle in my way of doing that. So I did what I thought was natural, and removed the obstruction.”
Edelgard sucked in a breath, despite herself. Her lover looked to her shrewdly; evaluating.
“My father had just given me a sword, only a day earlier. He said I needed to learn how to fight; to defend myself in case of danger. But he had yet to instruct me on the proper targets, shall we say.” Byleth closed her eyes, aggrieved. “I shoved it through his stomach, easy as anything. I can still feel the blood wetting my hand, dripping over my wrist and between fingers. Most of all… I can remember the distinct lack of any feeling whatsoever. To me, he was a minor complication that I removed. A boy who just wanted a friend, and received death instead.”
“Byleth—”
“My father, the way he looked at me when he saw what I had done...” She bowed her head, a tendon in her neck straining against the skin. “We left immediately and never looked back. He didn’t meet my eyes for days. Even years later, I would catch him staring at me just as he did back then. Like an unknowable thing he did not know how to deal with. It didn’t bother me then, but now… I can’t stand it.”
Edelgard kept her silence, voice stolen just as it was the other night. She swallowed past the sensation and refused to look away from Byleth’s face. The older woman stared at her with vague detachment, as if to protect herself.
“It’s a horror, El. These memories I bear. That boy wouldn’t be the last victim of my carelessness. My father’s mercenary company had a name for me, you know. The Ashen Demon.” Byleth rubbed her eyes again. She appeared tired all of a sudden, and her shoulders slumped visibly. “You say I will not be like that again. But how can you guarantee that? How can you trust something like me, when I’m a unique existence?”
She took a trembling breath, fast and strained.
“Even now, theoretically whole, I still struggle to communicate how I feel. To connect these emotions with words that mean anything at all. And I can’t help but think that… I will do you great harm in this ignorance of mine.”
The Emperor bit her lip as Byleth seemed to crumple. Her expression filled with agony, arms wrapping around herself. She looked small for once, young in a way the younger woman had never seen before. It was startling, her vulnerability; a side Edelgard had never dreamed she would witness.
The woman was often a pillar of strength, an island amid an ocean of chaos, but that did not mean she needed to be. Nor did that mean she should remain as such. Byleth had always been there for her; time and time again, providing a bastion in the turbulence of her life. Now, it was her turn to be strong. She would be Byleth’s touchstone in this world of endless confusion. A thought came to her, bringing sudden clarity.
“...Byleth.” Edelgard leaned forward and took her hand. She let their fingers mingle, palm meeting palm. Both their hands were bare, scars and callouses free to the night. Heat gathered at the point of connection. “Do you remember the book you gave me?”
“Of course.” Byleth nodded, eyes brightening for a moment. “I would never forget.”
“Why did you do it?” The Emperor softy inquired.
“You were troubled. I wanted to make you feel better,” her lover revealed, simple and sure in her devotion if nothing else.
“And how did you feel when Petra was injured?” Edelgard pressed.
“Scared and very worried for her,” Byleth stated quietly. A few strands of hair fell in her face, but she did not brush them back. “Then relieved once we got her to the infirmary.”
“And how about your imprisonment? I know for a fact you likely could have fought off those guards. Why didn’t you?” The Emperor gave her a pointed look. Byleth merely cocked her head, lips slanted into a tiny frown.
“They were just doing their job. I didn’t want to cause them any harm. I would have felt terrible.”
“What of that night behind the shack? When I pulled away from you?”
“Dejected at first. Then ashamed, because I thought I hurt you.” The woman blinked at her in confusion. “El… I don’t understand.”
“Someone told me something recently that made me think. A man you will no doubt get along with, considering your attachment to a certain Knight.” Edelgard brushed back a lock of teal, running it behind Byleth’s ear. Her lover stared at her raptly, focused on the words being said. “He said that empathy is how we relate to the world around us. I think he has the right of it. You fear not being able to connect, but you already have. To me, to our friends, even to strangers you do not know. That’s a far cry from the empty person you were.”
Edelgard smiled as genuinely as she could manage, hoping it revealed the depth of her adoration.
“So I want you to do something for me. Remember how you feel about the world around you, and about the people who live in it. Remember each sympathetic pain and each glimmer of worry. And if you ever doubt your humanity, you need only recall what is already within you. Empathy will be your anchor, tying you to this world; as it does to me.”
“My anchor...” Byleth shifted her attention to the water, expression pensive. She was silent for a long while, thinking. Then she nodded, faint and slow. “I think I like that idea.”
She wiped her face, posture straightening. Resolve burned in her gaze.
“El, I want to grow and change. I want to experience everything life has to offer. I don’t want to be empty again, and if you say I will not…then I shall believe you. With all my heart and soul.”
“You’ve already grown plenty and you will keep growing.” Edelgard leaned up to kiss her cheek. “I will be by your side for all of it, so no more thoughts of wondering where your place is. No more panic over possibly hurting me. These emotions of yours will never be a burden and any words you say will always be the right ones.” She trailed a hand along her neck. “You belong here at my side. After all, you made me a promise, remember? Happy and in love?”
“I did.” Byleth slowly smiled, and it was like the sun breaking through the clouds; bright and filled with warmth. “It’s the one truth I know. For all my faults, I will do my best to keep that promise. I just worry about being worthy of you.”
“You are more worthy than you know, but to steal a sentiment from one of our friends...” Edelgard wrapped her arms around the other woman’s neck. “I’ll not have any more silly notions of who is worthy of who. You are mine, as I am yours. Consider it an Imperial decree.”
“Then as your loyal soldier, I will do my best to oblige,” Byleth whispered, the shadows fleeing from her face. She gave her a lopsided grin. It was tinged with sadness, but heartfelt and true. “El… I love you. With everything I am. No matter what I was or who I will become.”
Love welled up and overflowed, bringing with it unimaginable joy. Edelgard sobbed then, relieved beyond words. She threw herself within Byleth’s arms and clung to her back in a fierce embrace. Byleth bent her head and seized Edelgard’s lips fervently, molding their bodies together as if made for that singular purpose.
And perhaps they were meant for it. Pieces who never quite fit anywhere else save for each other’s arms. Two imperfect halves made whole. It was romantic thought Edelgard could not resist. She loved her and was loved in return. No matter what happened next, that truth would prevail above all else. The world had never been kinder than it was at that moment.
Until a rogue wave stole upon them and drenched them head to toe. Edelgard sputtered, coughing up a mouthful of water. Irritated, she ran a hand through her soaked hair, nose wrinkling at the salted texture. She squinted as Byleth blinked. Then the other woman threw back her head and laughed.
It was deep and full, shaking the woman’s frame in rolling bursts. Edelgard stared at her, awed by the sound. After a time, Byleth tapered into a light chuckle. Her teeth shone in the dark and her eyes reflected the stars. She had never been more lovely than in that instant, bruises and all. Edelgard’s breath caught, words falling away. Thankfully, Byleth did not share this issue. She tugged them towards the shore, lips drawn into an adoring smile.
“Let’s go, El. I think the ocean has had enough of us for today.”
Hands met, entangling once more; a wordless promise reforged. Love and happiness in all their splendor.
* * *
“I think that might be a cat.”
“You’ve said that for three of them now.”
“Perhaps, but I’m certain this time.”
Edelgard quirked a brow, turning her head to stare at the other woman. Byleth was gazing up at the sky with odd severity. They were laying out on the warm sand, their bodies bare save for their mutual scars. At their feet, a fire crackled and smoked; tossing beams of light across their prone forms. Damp clothing hung over the flames, well out of reach, in an attempt to dry the soaked fibers. They could have retreated back into the castle, but the night was lovely and neither wished to return just yet.
The Emperor had balked at the idea, at first; reluctant at the thought of baring her skin. So much of her body was a ruin; a testament to pain and countless years of dark works. But Byleth’s typical detached manner put her at ease, as did the warm look in her eyes. There was no ulterior motive in that cornflower gaze; only love and reverence. The sand was soft beneath them, and the ocean’s breeze soothed over their flesh. Night blanketed them in shadow, intimate for the sparse flickering lights above their heads. And so they had stared up at them, attempting to parse shapes between the scattered points.
It was a childish impulse Edelgard had only done once before with someone who meant something far different, yet who she had loved all the same. A different kind of family; a different sort of love. She forced away those memories, willing herself to stay in the present. The ghosts of her past would not affect this moment in time. Not with Byleth at her side. As if sensing her thoughts, the woman next to her hummed thoughtfully.
“Maybe not a cat, then. A horse? It’s not bipedal at the very least.”
“You really do love animals, don’t you?” Edelgard smirked at her fondly. “Perhaps we should get another. Your choice this time.”
“I would like that.” Byleth nodded, firm in this opinion. She blinked up at the sky, musing. “It would have to be something Tiny Professor would get along with. I was thinking a dog, myself. Sadly, I’m not well versed in what breeds would go well with an ornery cat.”
“We can ask Bernadetta when we get home. I imagine she might have some idea. Ingrid might know as well.” The Emperor propped herself up on an elbow. She inspected the other woman’s face, taking in the sloping nose and sharp profile. Her eyes narrowed upon the still visible bruising staining her features. “You never said what happened to you last night. Anything I should be terribly concerned with?”
“Oh.” Byleth turned her head, expression falling a bit. Then she sighed, a great heave that shook her shoulders. The action did not inspire confidence, and Edelgard looked at her warily.
“It is really that awful?”
“Not really,” The older woman hedged, mouth pursing. “It’s more embarrassing than anything else.”
Intrigued, Edelgard peered down at her. Seeming to sense her growing curiosity, her lover took a steadying breath.
“Honestly, El, the story isn’t very interesting. You might be able to glean it from those guards or around town if you want.”
“I want to hear it from you.”
Byleth paused, expression shifting with light surprise. Her eyes widened, lashes fluttering. Then a small huff of amusement came from between her lips.
“...Alright. If you insist.” She leaned back to gaze at the moon. “First, I want to say that I never meant to be away for so long. I only mean to go for a walk and nothing else.” Silence stole over her for a moment. “I apologize for leaving. I shouldn’t have walked away like that.”
“And I should have insisted you stay or gone after you immediately.” Edelgard moved closer, letting their shoulders meet. She moved her arm down, fingers grazing the edge of her lover’s. “We both made mistakes, but we’re past that now. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes.” Byleth didn’t look at her, but her mouth quirked up. “After I left the castle, I found myself walking along the shore. Rather aimlessly, in truth. I eventually came upon the dockyard. At that point, I had resolved to turn back whence I came, but I was stopped by a group of men.”
“Did they harass you?” Edelgard felt a flicker of protective rage. She reached for Byleth’s hand reflexively. The woman shook her head in denial but accepted the touch all the same.
“I wouldn’t call it that. They were just curious. Apparently, they saw us disembark the other day and wondered why the Macnearys were hosting us. I explained to them that we were an Imperial envoy, to discuss terms with the future Queen of Brigid.”
“A fine excuse.” The Emperor hummed, approving. Byleth glanced at her and hesitated.
“I thought so, too. However, one of the men grew a bit irate with me.” Cobalt darkened, levity fading slightly. “His wife had been killed in the war with the Empire, and her body had never been returned home.”
“He told you this?” Edelgard halted, a thought suddenly occurring to her. “Wait. How did you hear this? They could speak Fόdlan?”
“No.” Byleth rubbed her neck before blinking at her airily. “Actually, in preparation for our journey here I started learning the language. To be of some use, you see, just in case.”
Edelgard blinked at her for a time, caught off guard.
“Byleth, we only planned this trip a moon in advance. You’re telling me you learned Braeilge in less than five weeks?”
“Is that strange?” The older woman stared at her, seemingly befuddled. “It wasn’t particularly hard. The Imperial Library actually contained a surprising amount of Braeilge texts. They were quite thorough, as well. Many of the words make a strange sort of sense, once you get the general pattern down. I imagine you could do the same, El, if you were of a mind to learn.”
“I doubt that.” The Emperor eyed her wryly, unable to conceal her bemusement. Her lover was full of surprises, it would seem. A mercenary with the potential to be a polyglot. What a novelty. An abrupt recollection derailed her thoughts. “Wait, why didn’t you say anything about this earlier? Like when we arrived or at the opera?”
“I was distracted, admittedly.” Byleth shrugged in her usual blithe manner. “That and it didn’t come up. As for the opera, Petra looked quite eager to explain the story so I decided to let it be.”
Edelgard gave her another measured stare. Then she exhaled slowly, head falling back onto the sand.
“You really are insufferable at times, you know that?” She glanced to her companion, taking in the puzzled tilt of her head. She nudged her side playfully. “But back to the group of men. Did this dockworker attack you?”
“He tried to swing at me, but his friends held him back. They were perfectly cordial and apologetic from what I could tell.” Byleth frowned suddenly. “As they turned to leave, the man was able to wiggle loose. He tried to tackle me, but I put him down easily enough. As gentle as I could manage, I assure you.”
“I’m not particularly concerned over the safety of a man who attacked my General.”
“That’s not very empathetic of you, El.”
Edelgard stared at her for an extended period again; a common thread for this particular conversation. Byleth cracked a small smile; cheeky and impudent as she was starting to become. Her mood had settled admirably, it appeared. The Emperor rolled her eyes, allowing the tease for now. If she felt a thrill of joy at the off-color joke, she refused to admit it.
“Nevertheless, I remain unmoved. Grief is not an acceptable excuse for violence.”
“I don’t disagree, but it is understandable. He might have been drinking, in truth. His breath was rather sour.” Byleth sobered, a thoughtful cast to her face. “After I restrained him, I felt something crack underneath my feet. I was a bit frazzled at the time, so I didn’t notice immediately. I suppose the dock portion I had been standing on was rotted because the next thing I knew I was falling into murky water. The man fell on top of me, bashing my face.”
“That’s...” Edelgard struggled on what to say, more than a little stunned. She cleared her throat, simultaneously relieved and exasperated. There really wasn’t anything to fear, after all. Just her odd love being her troublesome self. “I should have known it would be something that ridiculous. So what happened next after that comedy of errors?”
“Well, the guards came running, likely drawn by the commotion.” Byleth continued, shrugging her shoulders with nonplussed affect. “The man’s friends scattered, leaving us to explain everything. Unfortunately, the man himself continued to be rather obstinate in his anger so I had to hold him in a headlock. I attempted to tell the guards what happened, but they didn’t appear to believe me. It might have been hard to understand what I was saying, however, considering my nose was leaking blood.”
“I wonder why they didn’t believe you.” The Emperor remarked with a wry smile. Byleth bobbed her head, taking the sardonic comment seriously.
“I did as well, but they must not have been in the mood to listen.” The older woman made a clicking sound with her mouth. “In the end, the man was able to run off without incident and I was taken into custody.”
“A sad end, for a night’s escapade.”
“It didn’t quite end there.” Byleth huffed greatly and turned onto her side. She looked into Edelgard’s eyes with disarming sheepishness. “On the way to the Lower Gaol, I asked to stop and clean off my face. Just for a bit. They obliged and brought me to a water spout. Now you must understand, I’ve only ever used the ones in Fόdlan so I was curious about the differences.”
“...Did you break it?”
“I did.” The older woman’s expression was oddly grave. “I lifted the handle too far and it snapped off in my hand. Water rushed out and soaked me even further. The guards were rather amused by the whole thing, I believe.”
“Only you, I swear.” Edelgard chuckled and brushed back her lover’s hair. She wrapped a few strands around her index finger and lightly tugged. “You’ve always been prone to trouble. It’s a miracle the academy didn’t implode with you running around its halls.”
“It did, in a way,” Byleth replied, smiling faintly. “I digress. After that incident, the guards began calling me Balor-iníon.”
“So that’s the term they referred to you as,” Edelgard said, musing over the phrase. She recalled Dorothea’s careful reserve in wanting to translate. Worry settled in her chest. “It’s not terribly insulting is it?”
“Hmm. I suppose it can be, under the right circumstances.” Byleth eyed her as if to measure her reaction. “From what I learned, Balor is a malevolent spirit who brings misfortune and chaos. ‘Iníon’ means daughter, so they were referring to me as his child.”
“Byleth...” The Emperor’s smile fell, concern for her lover replacing the amusement. Considering their prior talk, the notion of Byleth being seen as ‘evil’ in any way rankled. She stared hard into blue eyes, trying to get a read on her emotional state. Byleth didn’t seem bothered by the term, oddly. She merely smiled in reassurance.
“It’s alright, El. They didn’t mean it maliciously. I believe it’s no different than calling an accident-prone person clumsy. Which, by their perspective, was rather apt.” The woman carefully pressed on her nose, frowning. The bruising had gone down considerably, but it was still a noticeable mar upon her features. Luckily, Byleth had always been quick on the mend. “I didn’t exactly inspire confidence and my time in the Gaol probably reinforced that opinion.”
“How so?” Edelgard asked, somewhat incredulous. What else had her lover gotten up to in that short span of time? Byleth averted her eyes, looking for all the world like Tiny Professor after ruining the furniture. Perhaps, a tad more remorseful than that.
“The Gaol's construction piqued my interest. I wanted to see if the bed supports were embedded into the cavern wall or merely secured with hinges. It ended up being the latter.” Her mouth pulled up into a slight grimace. “They broke after I yanked a few times, and a piece of metal flew by my head. A poor construction effort on their part. I’ll tell Petra about it after the coronation.”
“There might be more pressing concerns once she’s Queen, but feel free to do so.” Edelgard raised her brows, observing the sincere look in her lover’s gaze. Byleth Eisner; an enigma and a scholar. Said woman nodded emphatically, appearing to like the idea.
“It would be negligent of me otherwise.” Her face smoothed, the abashed set to her expression clearing. She smiled; languid and easy. “It did give me some time to think, you know; laying on cold rock without you by my side. It was a learning experience I shall not forget.”
“Is that so?” Edelgard tugged her hair again gently. Byleth’s answering grin was bright and effusive, an expression her previous self would have never dreamed of making. Deep in her breast, the Emperor’s heart sang. It whispered a familiar poem between each beat, and the thorns of doubt she had borne withered to nothing.
“Is é mo chroi leatsa.”
Edelgard blinked at the foreign words.
“What did you say?” She asked.
Byleth peered back at her, eyes twinkling in the dark.
“A mere fact and nothing more.” She reached to brush aside strands of silver, touch lingering above pale skin. Then the woman cupped Edelgard’s cheek, thumb tracing over her bottom lip. “It returned for you. In that last moment… it was for you.”
“You do realize I’m missing the context of what you said.”
“Perhaps you should learn then,” Byleth replied simply, unconcerned. She leaned over, mouth positioned by the younger woman’s ear. Her breath was warm, pleasant, and fanned across sensitive skin. “I can teach you. For old times sake.”
“You are getting bold, General Eisner.” Edelgard allowed the woman to settle atop her, the weight a comforting reminder of life and love. Against her chest, a strong heart beat an endless rhythm against her own. Bare skin met, warm as the look in both their eyes. She tilted her head up and kissed the side of her jaw. “Do you really think you can take liberty with your Emperor in this way?”
“Are you complaining, Your Majesty?”
Edelgard thought for a moment, observing the woman hovering above her. Waves of blue-green hung around them in a curtain, damp and glistening. A cobalt gaze stared evenly; patient, yearning, but far from expectant. There was adoration lying there within the darkened blue, edged with hesitant desire. A question remained; permission yet to be granted. Edelgard tugged her down and captured parted lips. An answer made of several parts, each one grown from love.
I love you , she thought in between each wanton kiss. As I love you, Byleth seemed to say with each answering caress. In the end, there were no more words; just as it was always meant to be. Only them and the stars would know the secrets of that moment shared. All under a cloudless sky, with only moon and fire for light. Yet the intimacy of darkness did not hide them from each other; and passion exchanged in full before only worship remained. Then, a long while after pulse and breath had slowed to sated repose, Byleth held up their joined hands.
She pressed a kiss to a ring, the moon reflecting off the silver surface. Cornflower met lavender, an understanding shared between equals of heart. Edelgard closed her eyes, fond and knowing; content in what she had found within the woman she loved so deeply. There they slept, entwined amid warm sand and the sound of breaking waves.
* * *
It was already midday by the time they woke and headed back to Castle Sionnach. They ran across the sands, laughing and hands interlocked. The world was a soft-edged thing of dreams realized and hope fulfilled. Bright as the sun above; shadows fleeing in their wake. As they entered through the towering castle door they shared once last embrace; hearts racing in time. Of course, the world did not tolerate idlers. So it was that a voice cut through the moment with blunt finality.
“There you are!”
They stilled, pulling away with a jolt. Edelgard turned her head, annoyed, only to see the frazzled form of Dorothea. The woman’s long hair was mussed, and the color was high on her cheeks. She ran down the stairs in a hustle, stopping before the other two women.
“Where in Brigid have you been?!” Dorothea asked, searching their faces incredulously. “I can see why you might miss dinner, but staying out well into the next day…? Honestly, I would expect this from the Professor, but you Edie?”
“Do steady yourself, Dorothea. We were hardly in dire straits.” Far from it, in fact. Edelgard cleared her throat, hoping the sudden thought didn’t show on her face. She graced her friend with a supercilious frown; affected, but the other women need not know that. “It was too late by the time we were done with our walk, so we decided to sleep on the beach.
“A walk is it?” The songstress brightened, green eyes dancing. Her prior concern seemed to fade as she grinned. “And a much-needed talk I hope?”
“Just so.” Byleth smiled, lopsided. “The Emperor was kind enough to remind me of my place. I do not think I shall be forgetting this lesson any time soon.”
“That sounds promising.” Dorothea clapped her hands, gleeful. “And like quite the story! Mind sharing the details, ladies?”
“You may hear them, in time, at a much later date.” Edelgard flicked back her hair, trying to keep her expression composed. A light flush heated her skin, despite herself. Verdant eyes flicked to somewhere by her neckline. Then Dorothea’s expression slid into something crafty.
“My, my… Edie, what is that on your neck?”
The Emperor pursed her lips, reaching up instinctively.
“A terrible bug bite, I’m certain.” She prevaricated, averting her gaze. Her fingers thumbed over the skin of her throat, cursing her fair complexion. That and an amorous woman with more passion than sense. At her side, Byleth kept her bland expression; though her eyes were glittering with pride and mirth.
“I have a few marks myself,” the former professor remarked bluntly. She ran a hand through her shaggy locks, not ashamed in the slightest. “Scratches on my back, in fact. A curious species of bug you have here in Brigid.”
“A bug is it?” Dorothea laughed gaily. She sidled up to bump against Edelgard’s shoulder, smirking in the sly way she was prone to. “Well now, perhaps I should journey spend a night on the beach myself; to check for this mysterious bug. Once Petra is done with the coronation, of course.”
“It’s today, isn’t it?” Edelgard inquired quickly, desperate for a change in subject. She wasn’t exactly abashed at the conversation, she trusted her friend far too much, but such things didn’t need to be discussed in a public venue. Thankfully, Dorothea stiffened; eyes widening.
“Ah! That’s right!” The woman lunged at them, trying to push them back through the great doors. “We need to head down to the ceremony site. King Eagan is already there, and I refuse to be late. The last thing I need is to sour his opinion of me further.”
“I thought the coronation would be in the castle.” Edelgard stumbled a bit but recovered smoothly. She shot the taller woman a puzzled glance. “And where is Petra? Isn’t she there as well?”
“It’s a long and tedious story.” Dorothea huffed, expression falling. “But to summarize, Brigid’s customs demand that the prospective ruler sail from Sciath to Sionnach at the break of dawn, and swim the length of the island north to south. Then they must crawl out of the water and meet at, um… what was the name…? Suíochán an Chéad Rí, before night falls.”
“First King’s Seat,” Byleth uttered with a nod. She tilted her head up in thought. “A fitting name, for a place to crown the next monarch. I wonder what the story behind it is.”
“I’m sure Petra will be able to tell you later.” Edelgard offered her lover an affectionate smile. She spied Dorothea’s tight frown and quirked a brow. “Is something wrong, Dorothea? I thought you would be more excited.”
“I was. Rather, I am!” The songstress worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “But after what happened the other day, I admit I’m worried. Her leg is mostly healed, but to swim the entire length of Sionnach and then climb up the steep path to a moldy ruin? If it’s not a shark, I worry a terrible fall onto sharp rocks will take her from me.”
“Petra is strong,” Byleth asserted definitively, voice firm in her conviction. “And she has you to come back to. She will be careful. I know it.”
“Thank you, Professor. That does make me feel a bit better. Only a bit, but it’s better than nothing.” Dorothea blinked rapidly, before shaking her head in a whirl. “But never mind that! We need to go to the western edge of the island! With luck, King Eagan will be too preoccupied to notice our delay.”
“Is it really that steep? Shouldn’t we get dressed, or at least put on proper shoes?” Edelgard frowned as her friend tried to tug her forward. “The sun isn’t due to set in another couple hours. Surely we can take the time to clean up.”
“The path won’t be that bad for us.” Dorothea made a light noise of frustration, but it was clear it wasn’t towards either of them. She was staring pensively over Edelgard’s shoulder, lost in thought. “There’s a road which leads up the hill and the cliff-side is marked with steps. Petra took me a week ago so I would be familiar with the area.”
“Hmm. That doesn’t sound that terrible.” Byleth tilted her head and rubbed her neck, expression somewhat wistful. “The swim would be hard, I’m sure, but then you take a relaxing walk up a hillside. A pleasant idea, actually.”
“Oh, did I give you the impression Petra would be walking?” Dorothea tittered, the sound tinged with slight hysteria. “No, no, no. You see that would be far too simple. Instead, her daft ancestors decided that the future monarch should climb up a slippery cliff-face. Right after taking an obscenely long swim no less!”
“Ah. In that case, I see why you might be pressed for time.” Byleth mused, rubbing her jaw. Dorothea stared at her for a long moment.
“Professor… You really aren’t fazed by anything, are you?”
Genuine confusion clouded the older woman’s face. Edelgard watched their interaction with fierce amusement mingled with warmth. Her lover was odd indeed, but she would not trade her for the world. The Emperor smiled broadly when Byleth cocked her head to the side, blue eyes wide and questioning.
“Of course I am, Dorothea. What a strange thing to say...”
* * *
While time was fast-moving indeed, Edelgard refused to spend another moment covered in sand, seawater, and other unmentionables. Dorothea was none too pleased, but the woman allowed her friends to tidy themselves nonetheless. When they were finally clean and dressed, they embarked on the long walk to the western end of Sionnach. While the other sides of the island were densely packed with homes and stalls, the west was curiously bare. An open hillside draped the landscape in a tide of lush green and sun-scorched brown.
While it did not appear Sionnach supported significant agriculture, herds of wildlife were plentiful and vast. As they trekked across the rural roads, a goat herder waved in their direction. Edelgard smiled gently as Byleth stopped to pet one of the animals. She exchanged a few words with the man, the rolling Brigid language falling off her tongue with ease. It was only when the billy began to gnaw on the cuff of her trousers, that Byleth had the mind to back away.
After an hour’s pleasant walk, the three arrived at the Sionnach’s western edge. According to Dorothea, the place Petra would have to climb was detached from the island itself. The First King’s Seat was a ruin that had been rent in twain by an earthquake some decades earlier, creating two separate cliffs that hovered in parallel. A rather flimsy-looking rope-bridge connected the two, it’s length swaying in the wind.
The aforementioned Seat itself was not hard to spot. It was an obelisk of dark stone and carved beams of wood, twice the size of a man with the royal arms of Macneary etched into it’s back. Curiously, parts of the stone appeared to be stained with an unknown substance; the color a mottled burgundy. With the ruins fractured, and the sun beaming down upon the Seat, it was as if the heavens declared it worthy.
Edelgard was impressed, if skeptical of the pragmatic application of such a trial. Her own coronation was a staid affair by comparison — not that she envied Petra by any means. She eyed the sheer rock-face that arched up from the water. It was sixty meters at the very least, with a bed of jagged rocks lying in wait. She frowned deeply. Byleth, appearing to sense her concern, clasped her hand in a reassuring grip. Dorothea was noticeably wan at their side, features blanched and eyes pinned to the thrashing waves.
A watching crowd of celebrants were waiting at the chasm’s edge, eyes boring down in the roiling water below. Many cheered at random intervals, and others sat at the cliff-side while staring out over the sea. Edelgard squinted in the distance as a tall figure appeared from behind the Seat. King Eagan stalked along the stone edifice, posture stiff-backed and proper despite his hobbling walk. She could not make out his face from where she stood but did not imagine he would be panicked in the slightest.
The people of Brigid were proud and traditional, fiercely devoted to their mysterious ‘Mother’. A trial of this magnitude was likely meant as some sort of display to their Goddess. Akin to Sreng blood-letting, or a Morfis hair-shirt. It was odd and primitive by Imperial standards, but it was not meant for her to completely understand. Only to accept as something that their friend must do. That did not make it easy or bearable to watch as Dorothea began to pace frantically.
“What am I doing here?! I need to charter a boat, or a raft, or something.” The songstress wrung out her hands and darted to the edge. She peered down, brow furrowed into a fierce line. “Do you think outside help is allowed? Just as a hypothetical. If I say, threw a rope into the water as she passed? Or maybe––”
“I don’t think Petra would accept it, even if it was allowed,” Edelgard remarked. She stepped to the anxious woman’s side and placed a hand along her arm. “Dorothea, please, calm down and think rationally. These traditions have been in place for hundreds of years. We cannot intervene, no matter how barbaric it seems to us.”
“The voice of reason as always, Edie. I almost hate you for that.” Dorothea pursed her lips, arms drawing tight across her frame. She swallowed hard, sheer terror coloring her expressive face. “I just… I can’t lose her. She’s all I have left. If something happened and I just stood by and did nothing, I would never forgive myself.”
“She’s a warrior and the future Queen.” Byleth walked to the other side of Dorothea. She glanced out over the horizon, stance relaxed and confident as ever. “This was what she was born to do. So she will do it. Just as you were meant to be by her side.”
“You sound awfully sure of yourself, Professor.” Dorothea sighed, worry deepening the line of her brow.
“And why shouldn’t I be?” Byleth looked to Edelgard briefly and smiled; eyes flashing with a bold certainty that stole the Emperor’s breath. “That Mother of theirs already sent you her way once. I doubt She would do that unless She had plans for Petra. Take heart, Dorothea, and trust in something beyond what you know.”
“I never took you for a believer of Gods, or any faith, Professor. Considering Edie’s stance on it and all...”
“Gods can be kind.” Byleth nodded, crossing her arms. “A bit childish too, but mostly kind. I knew one once.”
“...Do I even want to know?” Edelgard eyed her lover for a long moment, trying to read her face. The older woman had an odd sense of humor, and it was often hard to tell when she was joking. Yet it seemed Byleth was being completely serious. She blinked down at the Emperor, the wind tossing her hair.
“Hmm. Maybe not.” She paused, gaze trailing down the younger woman’s form. It was an atypically suggestive glance, and Edelgard flushed in response. “I might be convinced to tell you… at a much later date.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” the Emperor replied, holding that dark cobalt stare.
“Your flirting both annoys and thrills me,” Dorothea cut in, huffing dramatically. She tossed her hair and managed a weak grin. “But you’re both right, much to my dismay. I’ll have to content myself with waiting and hope to all the higher powers that my Petra comes back to me in one piece.”
The songstress startled as a harsh cry sounded from the gathered crowd. The three women turned their heads to look in their direction. Men were jumping in excitement, voices raised to the sky. A few pointed at the water, gesturing to the rocks of Suíochán an Chéad Rí. The Emperor squinted, trying to discern what had caught their attention. The answer came in the form of Petra, drenched and trembling, who burst from the waves. The princess clung to the sheer cliff, hands desperately searching for a hold. All the while, violent torrents of water flooded over her head and body. Edelgard heard Dorothea take a frightened breath.
Up above, where the Seat lay in wait, King Eagan gave a hearty shout. The crowd around them quieted instantly. They turned their eyes to their past monarch, rapt. Then the man began to speak, voice straining over wind and sea.
“I’ll translate,” Byleth offered suddenly. Her eyes slid to Dorothea for a time. Edelgard glanced at the other woman as well. Unlike everyone else in attendance, the songstress didn’t appear to care what the King had to say. She was too distraught over her lover’s form, barely breathing in her overcome state. Some things were far more important than formality and ceremony. Meanwhile, Petra had made significant headway. She was catching her breath on the rocks, chest heaving with effort. Edelgard shifted her eyes back to King Eagan.
“What’s he going on about exactly?”
“He’s explaining the significance of… an Turas, I believe he called it,” Byleth explained quickly. Her brow furrowed, concentrating on the words being said. “The Journey. It’s meant as a reenactment of the path taken by the first King of Brigid. Apparently, the man’s ship capsized and he had to swim one-hundred leagues until he reached dry land. However, he received a vision from the Mother, who demanded he climb the tallest peak in devotion to Her and claim the islands in Her name.”
“Petty and demanding. This goddess is beginning to sound familiar.” Edelgard rolled her eyes. Byleth merely tilted her head in acknowledgment.
“It’s a common thread, I find. With people in places of absolute power.” She paused, considering. “Other than you, El. You are pleasantly without those flaws.”
“Flatterer.”
“Not at all.” Byleth smiled gently. “But back to his speech… It seems the King obeyed the Goddess and in return, he was granted the right to rule over the land he had found. He brought all his people from across the sea, hailing from a distant land that has since been forgotten by time.”
“How convenient.”
“Maybe so, but it is an interesting take on their history. I wonder what the truth of it is.”
Suddenly, King Eagan clapped his hands before raising them to the sky. The crowd did the same, fingers reaching for the heavens. All was silent for a time. Slowly, the King walked to the edge of the edifice, gaze never roving from his granddaughter. He opened one hand and used the other to draw a knife from his belt. Quick as a snake, he sliced into his palm. Edelgard winced, a pang of sympathetic pain striking her. She hated hand wounds; especially in that location. The reminder was very unpleasant . As if sensing her distress, Byleth draped an arm across her shoulders; squeezing tight.
The King backed away, holding out his bleeding appendage. Then he reached out and smeared the back of the Seat, crimson staining the stone deeper. So that’s what that was. A curious ritual indeed, but the Emperor supposed it made a strange sort of sense for a deeply religious people. The Central Church had held its own oddities, dragon notwithstanding. She turned her attention to Petra as a certain songstress tensed.
The princess had already traveled about a quarter of the cliff’s expanse. She was slow, methodical, and did not seem spent in the slightest. A testament to Brigid fortitude. Long moments passed, fraught with quick breaths and scattered nerves, as Petra crawled her way up. Overhead, the sun was already beginning its slow decline; and deep below, the craggy rocks bared their teeth in grisly hunger.
A lifetime passed, it seemed, as fingers sought within slick limestone and basalt. Half the journey up, Petra staggered as her foot slipped. Dorothea made a strangled noise deep in her throat, hands flying to her mouth. Fortunately, the princess recovered and continued her trek with careful efficiency.
After hours of slow progress, the end was near. Petra arched her body along the cliff’s edge, arms shaking and long hair blowing chaotically. Her hands grabbed the ruined edifice. And then, with a massive heave, she pulled herself aloft. She collapsed upon the stone in a heap, not moving for a time. Edelgard exhaled slowly, relief breaking upon her like a wave. She chanced a look at Dorothea. The woman was crying, tears dripping down her skin. Yet a smile as wide as the sunrise, and twice as bright, appeared on her face.
Across the chasm, King Eagan broke into a similar smile. The first one to grace his face since their arrival. He approached his granddaughter and knelt before her. Then the man used his bleeding hand to press against her brow. Petra stirred, head raising up. She crawled to her legs once more. The woman appeared to steel herself for a moment, testing her leg strength. Then she inhaled visibly, before striding towards The First King’s Seat. With confidence born of assured destiny and purpose, the princess took her place on the throne.
It was done. Petra Macneary was Queen, and no one could deny her worthiness to rule. The spectating mass broke their silence and shouted in jubilation; pride for the woman clear. The Brigid Archipelago had a new ruler; one who would hopefully usher in an age of prosperity. It was a desire that Edelgard wanted to come to fruition as well, and she would do her best to assist her friend in the endeavor.
The Emperor watched, inordinately pleased, as King Eagan placed a crown of black metal upon the woman’s head. A new age had dawned, just as it had for her once upon a time. The world was better for it and would continue to be improved for countless years to come. Next to her, she heard Dorothea sob with joy. Byleth made a faint noise, perhaps of satisfaction.
“Shall we go to her?” The woman asked in her usual plain manner. Her mouth was curved into a happy slant. “I imagine she’ll have some trouble walking after all that.”
Edelgard glanced at the new Queen, observing the slight shake of her shoulders. She nodded shortly.
“Yes. I think we shall.”
They turned away from the cliff’s edge, but Dorothea was faster. She darted off in the direction of the rope bridge, dark-hair flying behind her. The woman paid no heed to the drop below, and dashed across the planks enthusiastically. Petra looked up just in time to be pulled into a fierce embrace. There they stood, arms wrapped and lips locked, with the sun painting a tapestry of color behind them. Reds, golds, and every hue between.
From afar, King Eagan observed both of them for a time. Edelgard blinked, taken aback, as a fond grin worked its way along his weathered features. The world really was a strange and unknowable thing, filled with endless surprises.
* * *
The celebration that ensued was both vast and grand. Those who had attended the crowning, and many who had not, all journeyed to the main shore of Oileán Sionnach. Torches and tables lined the sand in rows; with no particular rhyme or reason. The market place merchants had re-purposed their stalls to bear food and drink. Currently, they were hocking them voraciously. People chased and weaved down the docks, eyes turned to the center of the shore where the royal family sat atop a large dais.
Petra was placed at the head, smile wide and eyes glittering in the dark. To her left, the former King Eagan gazed out over the collection of people. His expression was unreadable, but he nodded his head slightly as people stopped to bow before the dais. To her right, Dorothea leaned against the Queen, hands resting along the crook of Petra’s arm. Her eyes were focused upon her love, not daring to look away.
“They look happy, don’t they?” Byleth mused. She was gnawing thoughtfully on a curious ovular fruit. The skin was bright yellow, with striations of orange throughout. Edelgard eyed it warily, shaking her head when her lover proffered one for her consumption. She had learned her lesson after eating the flesh of a particularly rank specimen. Her palate could only stand so much.
“I imagine the threat of Petra’s demise had something to do with that. But yes, they do seem rather happy.” The Emperor smiled, watching as Petra leaned in to whisper something in Dorothea’s ear. The songstress giggled, before entangling a finger through a stray braid. “A well-earned respite for the new Queen of Brigid and her prospective wife.”
“Hm.” Byleth dusted off her hands, gaze sliding to where King Eagan was resting. “And do you think he will allow that? He was determined not to bless the union, as I recall.”
“I’ve resolved to look for the best outcomes in life.” Edelgard tucked herself into the older woman’s side. She let her head fall, leaning against a firm shoulder. Warmth bloomed as Byleth wrapped an arm around her waist. “You’ve ruined my pessimistic streak, you see. A grievous hindrance that I will address later.”
“A terrible thing indeed.” Byleth chuckled, a light thing of wishes granted. And of faith fulfilled. The Emperor would never become one of the devout, the blood that had been spilt could not be appeased so easily. But she was a woman who paid her debts and she did owe some measure of gratitude. The heart-pounding underneath her ear was a reminder of that. You did one thing right. But only the one. Edelgard opened her eyes, gaze catching on brilliant blue. Let’s see if you can do another.
“Cairde!”
A man suddenly sidled up next to them, beaming from ear-to-ear. It was Hagan, as well as a much slighter man trailing behind him. The hulking actor grinned and thumped a great beefy hand on his companion’s back.
“Look, Rudd! See who it is? I told you I spotted the Emperor hiding over here!”
The other man merely rolled his eyes, adjusting his spectacles. Edelgard observed him silently. He looked vaguely familiar, but it was hard to place his features. They made a peculiar couple, in truth. While Hagan was a veritable giant with dark coloring, his husband was willowy and composed of fair hues. His light green eyes swiveled to inspect the Emperor.
“So it is. Forgive my husband’s lack of courtesy, Your Majesty.” The man bowed deeply, the long tail of his hair falling over his shoulder. “Rudeger von Vestra. I believe my distant cousin is now Head of House, is he not?”
“Oh.” Edelgard blinked, the revelation startling her. Suddenly, she could see the familiar angular features of her retainer upon the man’s face. “You’re Hubert’s cousin? I never knew he had family who lived in Brigid.”
“There’s a simple reason for that, Your Majesty.” The man sniffed, mouth pursing. “I’ve been the black stain upon the honorable Vestra name for years. I don’t imagine my cousin is aware of the particulars, nor of me. My father was rather insistent that I be stricken from the record, as it were.”
“Black stain?” Byleth cocked her head, puzzling over the term. Across from them, Hagan heaved a great sigh.
“Please do not get him started. He will rant at you for hours!”
“I only rant, because it is absurd!” Rudeger visibly bristled, lime gaze flashing. “I was a venerated scribe for the Imperial Scholastic Society of Enbarr. Yet one theory rankled the wrong feathers and I was accused of ideological sedition!”
“Theory?” Edelgard eyed him. She wasn’t quite certain she wanted to know, in truth. Rudeger huffed, tossing his bangs.
“I presented a hypothesis that the compulsion to carry on Crest blood was tied to a deep-seated aversion towards those with same-sex leanings. I thought it was a terrible injustice, especially since a few of my fellow scholars had already presented the notion that Crests could not be passed to children created through the use of magic.”
“Is that true?” The Emperor pried, unable to conceal her interest. The notion was strangely compelling.
“Well, it’s not like they thoroughly tested it. I even offered to conduct a baseline study.” The former lord scowled, crossing his arms. “But the mere fact of the matter is that they refused to consider my theory! I would call foul, but I highly suspect a few Church officials had a hand in getting me sacked.”
“What for? The Empire is hardly lacking in progressives. We’re not the Kingdom— rather, former Kingdom.”
“Perhaps I defaced a public monument or two. It was harmless self-expression in my opinion. Those Central Church ninnies overreacted! And the people needed to know the grave bias being expressed within the Church ranks. Science was a mere formality at that point.” He straightened his tie with histrionic vigor.
“That was many years ago, Mo Ghrá.” Hagan chuckled faintly, scratching his jaw. Rudeger didn’t appear appeased. He narrowed his eyes before turning his attention to the Emperor.
“I’ve been keeping track of Imperial policy over the years and let me just say that if nothing else, I approve of the direction you’re taking the country. I wasn’t much one for Ionius, Goddess keep him, but you seem a proper sort.”
“That is...” Edelgard stared at him, raising a lone brow. “Rather blunt of you. But I thank you nonetheless.”
“You’re welcome.” Rudeger nodded firmly.
“Lacking in tact as ever!” Hagan chortled mightily, brushing a hand through the short bristles of his hair. “Forgive him, cairde. He means well. I promise you!”
“I don’t need you to apologize for me, Hagan. I’m quite capable of it, should I choose to be.” The thin man paused, his gaze catching on Byleth for a time. “I’m sorry, but are you the Emperor’s bodyguard? Captain...?”
“Byleth Eisner,” her lover replied easily. She smiled in greeting. “I’m the Emperor’s.”
“You’re the Emperor’s… What exactly?”
“I’m just hers. No title necessary.”
“She’s the General of my personal army,” Edelgard interjected, hoping to cut off any potential misunderstandings. The way the woman phrased her words could be misconstrued in several unfortunate ways. Spurious rumors had been created from less, after all. “As well as a trusted friend… and companion.”
“Ah.” Rudeger’s eyes widened with clarity. He adjusted his spectacles. “Then it seems Adrestia has a bright future, indeed. I almost regret leaving now, but I don’t imagine a fugitive like me would be welcomed back.”
“You would leave me, Mo Chroi?” Hagan pouted, the expression comical for his broad features. His husband only rolled his eyes.
“Oh, do stop that. I would take you along with me, barring I don’t get arrested on sight.”
“I could always pardon you.” Edelgard offered, amused by the man’s sharp manner. He reminded her of Linhardt, oddly enough. Rudeger only huffed, dusting off his lapel.
“Pardon implies I did something wrong and I maintain that I was the victim in that scenario. No, I think not, Your Majesty. I will bear being the stain of House Vestra for as long as I live. It’s a mark of honor at this point.”
“My Rudd is a stubborn man of principles.” Hagan wrapped his spouse in a fierce hold, dragging him lightly off the ground. His smile was full of immense pride, teeth glinting. Rudeger himself sputtered a bit, but the Emperor noticed he bore a hint of satisfaction at the praise. He cleared his throat before squirming out of Hagan’s hold.
“Come now, dear; let us away. I doubt the Emperor and her beau wish to entertain us old fogies all night.”
“As you will, Mo Ghrá.” The big man gave them one last friendly grin. The two men both bowed respectfully before striding off. Edelgard blinked as a thought came to her.
“Hagan?”
The man stilled in his tracks. He peered back in curiosity. Edelgard offered him a slight tilt of her head. She smiled as genuinely as she could manage, leaning deeper into Byleth’s side.
“Thank you for the talk the other day. It was very educational.”
Hagan laughed; languorous and deep. It sounded like a wave rolling over the shore.
“You are very welcome, Emperor!” He slung a companionable arm over Rudeger’s neck. “Now you two have fun, eh? And watch over our Queen and her future wife! I imagine they will need all the support they can get.”
“Of course.” Edelgard bobbed her head, watching as they vanished into the milling crowd of people. They were an odd pair, perhaps, but strangely well suited. The world was full of surprises and her own story was enough proof of that. Byleth bent down and kissed her brow. Warmth flooded her chest.
“Edie!” Dorothea abruptly appeared in her periphery. The woman practically danced across the sand, dress billowing with the wind. Her face was pulled up into a heart-breaking smile; cheeks flushed pink. “Can you believe it? Oh, it’s a dream!”
“What is?” Byleth inquired airily. Dorothea made a particularly excited squeal, arching up on the tips of her toes.
“King Eagan gave his blessing!” She paused appearing to reconsider something. “Or rather, he said he’s open to the idea.”
“Did he? What exact words were used?” The Emperor shifted her gaze to the man in question. The former monarch was gazing out over the ocean, submerged up to his feet in water. His face was unreadable. However, the line of his mouth was still tight.
“He said the Mother was willing Dorothea to my side.” Petra appeared from behind the songstress, wrapping both arms about her waist. The Queen’s grin was broad, stretching the curved mark upon her face. “Grandfather is not wanting to fight against the will of spirits and the Mother. He will take the time to try accepting, for my sake.”
“A surprising concession. Though not really a definitive answer.” Edelgard sighed, flipping back a few stray locks of hair. The other two women did not seem deterred in the slightest. Their spirits too high for the foibles of semantics.
“Maybe not, but I’ll take it!” Dorothea laughed, turning her head to kiss her lover’s cheek. “As long as he’s willing to try, and not actively upsetting my Petra, I think we can come to an understanding.”
“Sometimes that’s all it takes.” Byleth’s mouth twitched up, eyes shining. “I’m happy for you both, even if there’s no guarantee for the time being.”
“Thank you, Professor!” Dorothea and Petra chorused, wearing matching expressions of joy. Edelgard smiled at them, amused by the perpetual deference they showed towards her lover. Byleth would always be the woman who guided them in their hour of need; a figure of great respect and knowledge. She already held the affections of an Emperor as well. Had the woman the mind for it, she could potentially conquer the rest of the known world just by showing vague interest.
The thought of Byleth ruling over anything with the same blank affect proved amusing, and she chuckled in response. Her lover looked down at her, brow raised.
“Something to share, El?”
Edelgard pointedly avoided her gaze, wiping away her smirk. She was not quite successful, judging from the shrewd gleam in cobalt eyes.
“Not at all.” Abruptly, Edelgard extricated herself from the older woman’s side. She flicked back her hair, offering her friends a slight bow; deeper than she had ever given. “I formally congratulate you, Queen Petra. I look forward to working with you in all future matters of diplomacy with Brigid. Now if you will excuse me, I think I’ll get something to drink.”
“I can always fetch it for you.” Byleth offered. The Emperor merely waved her hand to decline.
“No, no. You stay and talk with our friends...” She trailed off, giving her a measured look. “Don’t you have something important to tell Petra? About the structural integrity of a certain Gaol, perhaps?”
Byleth’s eyes widened. Then she whipped her head to face the curious Queen.
“Petra, you really must correct the conditions of the Lower Gaol. I was rather dismayed to find the bedding...”
Edelgard wandered away from the three women, catching Dorothea’s eye on the way. The other woman had looked at her, seemingly puzzled, but Edelgard did not offer an explanation. This was a task she would need to accomplish herself. Instead of making her way to the re-purposed market stalls, the Emperor strode in the direction of Eagan Macneary. The older man had not moved from his spot by the shore, and neither had his line of sight. He looked lost in thought, brow dipping with the weight of it. Eagan did not move, even as she moved to stand by his arm.
“A fine evening to you, Lord Eagan.” She greeted, keeping her tone pleasant. There was no need to incite hostility, even if she was still irked by their prior conversation. Being called a snake of any sort was still a wound that festered. His dark eyes flicked to her briefly. Then he exhaled, and his tall frame seemed to fold.
“Emperor—” Eagan’s jaw twitched, and he made a noise of frustration. “Your Majesty. I suppose I cannot avoid formality now, considering Petra is Queen.”
“No need to stand on ceremony. You are the grandfather of a dear friend.”
“Do not mock me.”
“I am being completely serious, I’m afraid.” Edelgard leaned back on her heel and stared up into the bright canopy of stars. “Dorothea tells me you gave your blessing. Or that you are considering it at the very least. I have to admit, I’m a bit baffled. It seemed to me that you were dead-set on being a pest.”
“Only a fool denies the Mother’s plan. And while I am set in my ways, I am not a fool.” He ran a thoughtful hand down the length of his beard. “...She saved my Petra. The last of my family. The Mother sped her to Petra’s side by the right of divine will. That much is clear to me.”
“Your people take happenstance quite seriously.”
“There is no happenstance. No coincidences. The Mother is absolute in Her power, and guides Her hand where is it needed.” The man sniffed, but it sounded more melancholic than arrogant. “And it was for the girl Dorothea that Petra was able to overcome ‘an Turas’. I saw it when they embraced. My granddaughter found the strength because of her.”
Eagan stilled. He tightened his grip upon his cane.
“It makes me remember a time when I also loved so deeply. It is a funny thing, to be reminded of something I lost long ago.”
“You felt it, didn’t you? The depth of what they feel for each other.” Edelgard eyed him silently for a moment. She watched as the line of his shoulders unraveled, leaving only a sense of defeat.
“I did. And I cannot stand in their way forever.” The man turned to face her in full, umber gaze even. “I lost both my sons to the Mother. One by his own hand and one by mine. I will not lose Petra because I refuse to abide Her will. I am too old to rage at the spirits.”
“Then…?”
“The girl Dorothea will be given my attention. I will grant her this chance to prove herself to me. When I am content with what I see, I will bless the union.”
“I see. In that case, one great concession deserves another.” Edelgard straightened, injecting her voice with the authority her station demanded of her. She addressed him directly, staring deep into his eyes. “I am going to amend all military doctrine and practices to take the funeral rites of differing cultures into account. What happened to your son and countless other Brigid soldiers, will not be allowed to happen again. And should you wish it, I will order Count Bergliez to make a formal apology.”
“You—” Eagan drew back, visibly stunned. His throat bobbed, and his weathered face creased with incredulity. “You would do this? Even should war spark between our nations once more?”
“I trust that won’t happen, but yes. I will.” She graced him with a confident smile. “It was an oversight in the first and I am not going to allow it to remain. You may not believe me, Lord Eagan, but I am far from the serpent you fear.”
The shadow of wings came to mind, as did scales which shone with opalescent light. But so did the end, glorious and grand, as two blades rent a beast asunder.
“That serpent has already met its end, and I will not allow another to take its place.”
“...You say things I do not understand.” The former King bowed his head. His whiskered cheeks pulled and he closed his eyes. “Trust is earned, Emperor. But it cannot be gained unless I allow it. So I will do the same as I do for the woman Dorothea. I will do my best to believe, and hope I am not disappointed.”
He raised his head to the sky, searching for something within the stars. Or perhaps the moon, eye of his Goddess that it was.
“Bheadh grá agat di, Mo Ghrá. Canann sí díreach mar a rinne tú.”
Edelgard did not know what it was he spoke in that moment. She did not ask, either. His words were not for her, and the sentiment behind it was a private matter. Perhaps she would try to ask Byleth later if she could remember all the words. Overhead, the stars shone in peaceful serenity; twinkling with knowledge they would never reveal.
* * *
“This would go much smoother if you held still.”
“Interesting. Are you admitting to difficulty?”
Edelgard raised her head, hand stilling. She glared at her lover, but the woman did not deign to meet her eyes. They were sitting upon the Macneary family dock, Byleth holding a fishing rod at the ready. The Emperor’s own hands were preoccupied with a small canvas. It was a hobby she had taken to honing after seeing blue eyes light up with delight after presenting the first painting. It had been a shoddy effort, in truth. Far from her usual standard of perfection. Yet Byleth had adored it all the same and she yearned to see that frank admiration again. She set her stencil aside, miffed.
“Only because the subject is being unruly. When dealing with the delicate balance of light and forms, it is upon the person being sketched to pay due attention. It’s only the courteous thing to do. Bernadetta taught me that.”
“You always were a diligent student.” Byleth tossed her line with a snap of her wrists. Edelgard spotted the side of her mouth curve with mirth. “A shame you inspired within me the desire to rebel against authority. You’ve been a terrible influence, El.”
“My influence, is it?” Edelgard huffed, feigning exasperation. If her heart leaped traitorously, she made no mention of it. The woman did not need to develop an egotistical streak on top of her other oddities. She would love her regardless, of course, but there was no point in tempting fate. Byleth tilted her fishing rod, kicking her heels lightly against the dock.
“Hmm. You know, I’m a little disappointed Petra and Dorothea are still sleeping. I was hoping we could all spend the morning together.” The older woman used a finger to test the line. She frowned after a moment, evidently dissatisfied. “It is our last day in Brigid, after all.”
“I imagine the events of yesterday proved tiring.” And likely whatever they got up to after returning to the castle. Her own night had been busy with pleasant diversion; such was the way of love. Edelgard felt her cheeks heat with the memory. She heard Byleth hum in dim acknowledgment.
“A great trial. I’m tempted to replicate the feat myself.”
“You reconsider that impulse, lest I be tempted to lock you within the Goal for your own good.” The Emperor glowered at her, deadly serious. She would not chance her lover’s life for a bit of curiosity. The woman had already gotten herself into enough trouble with her idle hands. Byleth was unmoved, shrugging glibly.
“I am yours, El. So I shall do as you bid.” She bent her head, eyes the color of the sky meeting irked lavender. Her smile was soft, rounded with sunlight and devotion. Edelgard took a quick breath, moved by the sincerity seen in that gaze. She attempted to gather herself and glanced back to the canvas.
“As long as you keep that in mind,” the Emperor said gently.
“Of course.”
They spent the next few moments in contemplative silence, just enjoying each other’s presence. Every so often, the sound of splashing water and a stencil working canvas would hit the air. Above, a flock of birds cried in greeting. Below, the ocean continued its sweet murmur. It was peaceful, and a moment Edelgard would keep forever. Byleth suddenly broke the silence after a time.
“El, would you mind coming here for a moment?”
The Emperor looked to her, somewhat perplexed. The other woman wasn’t looking at her. Her eyes were fixed upon the line of her fishing rod. Not seeing the harm in obeying the request, Edelgard did as she bid. She crawled to her lover’s side, taking the time to glance warily at the water. Byleth smiled, before offering the rod for her to grasp.
“Would you like to try?” She asked simply. Edelgard stared at her, searching her eyes. She breathed in deeply, steadying herself. Then she took the pole in her hands. Fishing had never been of interest, even when she had been keen to share in the hobbies of a certain mysterious professor. Yet she could not refuse that earnest plea. Byleth appeared inordinately chuffed, her smile growing.
Edelgard turned her head to the water. She opened her mouth, ready to ask for instruction, only for a fierce tug to come from the line. The Emperor tensed, eyes widening with shock. It tugged again, harder this time, and the Emperor shamefully panicked. She shoved the pole away from her in a hurry. It fell into the water limply, slapping the water in an anticlimactic display. Slowly, it sank to the bottom along with Edelgard’s stomach.
All was quiet for a time. Then, a choking sound came from beside her, stealing her attention. The Emperor watched, flushed to her ears, as Byleth threw back her head and let loose a thundering laugh. It shook her entire body and curved her lips into a fierce grin. Edelgard crossed her arms.
“Are you quite finished?” She groused playfully, fully aware she deserved it. Byleth’s eyes opened and she stared at her with all of the world’s light in her cornflower eyes. Edelgard softened her voice, trying to convey the depth of love she felt in this moment.
“Do you feel a bit better now, Byleth?”
The woman’s laughter stilled. She reached forward to grab a gloved hand. Edelgard smiled as Byleth kissed her ringed finger. An endless promise made with endless love.
“I do. Thank you, El.” She trailed her lips to the inside of her palm; gratitude and adoration felt keenly. Another kiss was given, healing the scars below. Overcome, Edelgard leaned over to capture her lips in a loving embrace. Their hands entwined atop the dock and the sunrise heated their skin in waves of gold.
Perfection really was a thing of simplicity, as was love.