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From the warm up arena, Marianne could already hear the crowds filling in the stands, voices rising and growing louder just out of sight. The event hadn’t even started yet, but already, excitement and energy buzzed in the air, crackling with a certain kind of charge she had never felt before. Even in all her qualifying events and bigger competitions, Marianne had never experienced anything like the Olympics before. It was a whole new playing field, and suddenly, she wasn’t sure if she really belonged. It was something akin to a big fish in a pond being whisked off to the ocean. Who was to say what sharks and other creatures dwelled in the deeper waters?
Though, she was here, and she would do her best. There was no changing that, even if something nervous started to crawl in her stomach at all the sights and sounds of such a prestigious venue. Even the stables were pristinely kept and grander even than any house Marianne had ever set foot in. It was a nice luxury, if not overwhelming. Now, though, she was grateful at least for the nice space to get ready and warm up until it was her turn to jump. The arena was spacious and left plenty of room for the few other competitors who had come in before her.
Turning to face Dorte, Marianne gathered up her reins, letting out a breath to try to shake off the nerves and star-struck feeling. And, falling into the familiar routine of it all, she swung up into the saddle, getting settled before heading out into the warm up ring. She was meant to jump her course second, so after the event started, she only had a little bit more time to get ready. Still, she was just glad not to have the pressure of going first. That was never fun, and she had just narrowly dodged that bullet this time.
Easing Dorte up into a trot, she let her gaze wander as she moved past the gate that led into the main arena. Inside, the course was already set up and ready to go. It was definitely one of the toughest she had ever ridden, with high fences, thick flowers and brush underneath, and even a water obstacle. But, she trusted Dorte to get over the fences. Even if he wasn’t the fastest horse here, he was reliable, and Marianne valued that above all else. All that was left was for her to tell him where to go.
She gave him a pat on the neck, all the while watching more competitors come up to the arena, getting ready to go. There were so many gorgeous horses in tip top shape, riders equally ready, and Marianne couldn’t help but feel awed, even through her nerves. It was an honor to be invited among so many high level riders, to be considered good enough to compete with them. And, she always loved to see a good performance, whether the rider was pitted against her or not. She just loved the sport, and loved the animals.
Eventually, once Marianne had gotten warmed up and took a couple of practice fences to make sure Dorte was ready, an announcer spoke up over the speakers. Show jumping was officially underway, and the first competitor stepped up to the gate. For just a moment, Marianne stopped to watch them go in and start their course. Cheering roared through the crowds when they walked in, and their horse didn’t even flick an ear. Cool, calm, and collected, they turned towards the first fence.
Not wanting to distract herself, Marianne turned her attention back towards Dorte. He was acting better than she could have asked for, taking all the atmosphere more in stride than she had. She had never expected any less of him. Still, she took him over one last fence to warm up before heading over to the gate to wait for her turn. Somehow, it felt like an eternity and an instant until the rider before her finished their course, the announcer calling out their end time and faults. They had finished within the allowed time, but knocked a pole down for a four point penalty. Hearing that helped settle Marianne’s nerves just a touch, knowing the rider before her hadn’t performed flawlessly. It was always tough to follow a perfect act, in any sport or performance.
When she was allowed in, Marianne tightened her grip on the reins, gathering mane and leather between her fingers. One breath in, one breath out, and she stepped into the ring. The stands unfurled around her into a sea of bodies and faces, and as Dorte took those first couple steps, she found herself wishing she could pick out Hilda from the chaos. Still, just knowing she was out there somewhere was comforting, grounding. And it gave her the strength to shift her focus from all the eyes on her to just the course, the fences, and the horse beneath her.
“Come on, Dorte, we can do this,” Marianne breathed quietly, and eased him up into a canter.
Time seemed to move in snapshots, stilted and halting. Points of intense, clear focus where everything came into view, intermixed with haziness, blurriness until the shutter clicked again. It was an ebb and flow of energy, of light and definition. Racing pulse to the first fence, a clear jump without so much as rubbing the pole, and the telltale start of the clock. Then, a rush of adrenaline fogging the second fence until hooves hit the ground and kicked up a spray of sand. Tightened reins, gathered mane, holding tight up to a wall of grey blocks that would topple with the slightest brush.
As her time ran up, closing the gap until she had to finish or knock herself from the running for a medal, Marianne pushed Dorte faster. She hadn’t realized until she got on the course just how tight of a time she would have to make to avoid a fault. It was a big arena, a long course, and time was running too thin. She had to cut corners tighter, move just a little faster, shave precious seconds off wherever she could.
And that rush, that pressure, was what unraveled her.
Marianne knew it before Dorte’s hooves even left the ground. It was the water obstacle, and they were coming in too fast, too close. There was no way they were making it over without either knocking a pole or hitting the water. She braced for the sound of a clipped pole falling, but it never came.
Instead, it was a fraction of a second later, when water splashed up in front of her, that she knew her chances were finished. Even if she didn’t have much of a shot to begin with, it was nice to dream of an ending where she finished on the podium, a medal around her neck. Now, because of her mistake, that dream was out of her reach.
Marianne let out a breath, let the pressure fall away, and finished her course the best she could. The rest of the way was neat and clean, if not the fastest, and in the end, she finished with a handful of faults to her name, just outside the time limit. Walking back through the gates, away from the sea of eyes and noise, was something of a weight off her shoulders.
As Marianne cooled Dorte off and headed back for the stables, she found it was so much easier than it used to be to let go of the smudge of regret staining somewhere deep in her chest. Even if there was the ghost of weight there, knowing that the mistakes she made—the splash of water and the faults—had been entirely on her, it wasn’t all bad. She had done her best, made the best call she could, and if that wasn’t enough, then so be it. Maybe she didn’t deserve to stand on the podium, or maybe she didn’t need to. After all, there were still blue skies overhead, sunshine in the air. And, the sweet, warm eyes looking back at her when she slid out of her saddle and took Dorte by the reins didn’t know anything of medals and achievements. He only knew they had both tried their hardest and had fun doing it. Maybe that was worth more than measuring herself against the best of the best.
Later, with Dorte tucked back in his stall with an apple and all the hay he could want, Marianne made her way through the stands. It took a little searching in the crowd, a little while being lost, and one instance of Hilda calling her name over the sound of the announcer—making Marianne blush furiously—but she eventually found her girlfriend and claimed the seat beside her. Riding boots and jacket exchanged for a polo and Sperrys, helmet hair tamed back into two curly, frizzy braids, Marianne felt much more at home blending into the sea of people watching her competitor’s rounds rather than showing off in front of them. It helped having Hilda’s hand in hers, too.
Without any preamble, any talk of the ride or even a greeting, Hilda leaned back and stretched a moment, then searched around under her seat. “Hey, you want a drink?” she questioned breezily, holding out a bottled tea with her free hand, condensation still beading on the plastic from the cold. She had her own drink sitting beside her too, something pink with whipped cream on top, her name scrawled hastily on the side of the cup.
A small smile on her lips, Marianne took the bottle. And as she took a sip, she couldn’t help but be grateful. This ease, this simple, unspoken support, this was why she loved Hilda so much. Or, one of the dozens of reasons, anyway. Regret and mistakes and everything else was swept away, and what Marianne was left with was warmth and light blooming in her chest. The chatter of everyone around them fading into the background, Marianne held just a little tighter to Hilda’s hand and laced their fingers together.
“Thank you, Hilda,” she said quietly.
And when Hilda turned back towards her, her smile could have rivaled the sun.
“Anytime.”
—————
Ferdinand was stabled next to a literal demon. Or, maybe a figurative demon. Still, someone who could dominate at not just one, but five separate events might as well have been not of this planet. Either way, he couldn’t believe his luck, and couldn’t decide if it was a good or bad omen to have his horse right next to that belonging to the fabled Ashen Demon. Though, throughout the beginning of the whole affair, he hardly caught more than a glimpse of her. He had done his homework, sure, and knew her riding style and her horse’s reputation down to the finest detail, but he had yet to actually talk to her in any length since arriving. And that was something he was incredibly interested in doing; even if there were better riders out there, none could rival her as an overall athlete. And, with Garreg Mach backing her, she had gotten herself one of the best horses in all of Fódlan.
Still, when the day of the event actually came around, Ferdinand found himself with time to spare, and the legendary athlete lounging at his side by her horse’s stall. Leaning back against one arm of her chair, legs thrown over the other, Byleth looked significantly less intimidating than he had originally appraised. Though, there was something about her calm, relaxed demeanor that was its own kind of scary, knowing she was at the Olympics and acting like it was just another day at the barn. Even if Ferdinand prided himself on his ability to keep cool under pressure, he couldn’t deny the current of nerves running under his skin, knotting in his chest. After all, this was likely one of the most important days of his life, not even to speak of his career.
In any case, as he tied back his hair, low and loose at the back of his neck, he made his way over to stand before her. Raising a hand for her curious horse to sniff at, he offered Byleth a polite smile, clearing his throat to catch her attention.
“Excuse me, you’re Byleth Eisner, competing as part of the pentathlon, correct?” Ferdinand questioned. Of course, he knew that was the case, but it was only proper to allow her to introduce her herself as she wished.
At first, she only gave him somewhat of a blank look, and he couldn’t tell if she was appraising him, or if she just couldn’t figure out why he was talking to her. In any case, she eventually offered a tilt of her head and the slightest hint of a smile, like she was trying to be friendly. “That’s me,” she answered, blinking back at him.
“I must say, your reputation precedes you, as I hope mine does me,” Ferdinand replied. Though, she clearly didn’t seem like the type to study up on her competition, if the way she took a glance over at the stall card with all his information on it—name, horse’s name, and emergency phone number among the contents—before answering was any indication. That checked out, though, since whenever he had caught a glimpse of her in the stables before, she had always seemed more in her own world, not too worried with what anyone else was doing.
“You’re Ferdinand von Aegir?” Byleth asked.
“Yes, competing for Adrestia,” he clarified.
Humming an acknowledgement, Byleth didn’t bother to engage any farther than that. Ferdinand had to wonder if he was bothering her, but she didn’t appear to have anything more pressing to do until later. They had both ended up pretty low in the draw order, set to jump nearer to the afternoon. Morning sun still slanted in through the stable windows in its paler hue.
In any case, even in the brief moment, there was something about talking to Byleth that made Ferdinand feel distinctly lost. Like she was on an entirely different plane of existence than him and he was just wandering somewhere beneath her, searching. Like two ships passing in the mists. It was just something in her somewhat expressionless demeanor that set him off. And the way she acted like she hadn’t a care in the world, even though her competitors were out there right now, putting up good rounds and good times.
“I’m sorry, but aren’t you even the least bit concerned as to what’s going on in the arena? I know you don’t have to show until later, but I’ve never seen an Olympic athlete so calm before,” Ferdinand blurted out without hardly thinking first. It probably wasn’t an appropriate thing to say, but just watching her lounge in her chair made his skin crawl with some nervous sort of energy. It was distinctly unsettling to see someone care so little when every fiber of his being burned with the desire to succeed. It felt almost like an insult, stinging his pride. Like he and the other competitors weren’t even worth her concern. And some cloud of insecurity started to brew in the back of his mind, wondering if she truly was justified in her laid back attitude. Was it possible she was just that good?
“Where did you get that idea?” Byleth asked.
That took Ferdinand off guard. Almost affronted, he gestured towards her. “You look like you’re on vacation, not at the most elite sporting event in the world,” he stated.
Swinging her legs down off the arm of the chair, Byleth righted herself to sit more properly, turning to face her full attention on Ferdinand. “I get nervous, too,” she said like it was a clear thing, like it was obvious. Only, Ferdinand had never seen someone who seemed so focused, so centered, so not rattled by everything around them.
“You certainly don’t show it,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest. It probably looked defensive, he realized too late.
“People say I’m not the most expressive,” she said, the corner of her mouth twitching up ever so slightly. “But just because I don’t show it doesn’t mean I don’t feel it.”
There was something sort of profound about that sentiment that made Ferdinand pause for a moment. How many times had he operated on the assumption that someone didn’t care or didn’t worry just because they acted unconcerned? Probably too many to count. And he’d never really considered all that well that some didn’t wear their hearts open on their sleeves, tucked instead back into a pocket or under a cuff.
“I suppose that’s true,” he considered. Then, a realization struck him. “So, you’re not as confident as you look?” he questioned, fluffing a little under her gaze. Even just that notion made him feel better, somehow, that maybe he had been sizing up his competitors wrong all this time, that he was giving them too much credit. That maybe he had been slowly talking himself out of the running all along. And that maybe, that wasn’t warranted. After all, he hadn’t qualified for nothing.
“I plan on doing well,” Byleth countered, just a hint of something steely crossing into her expression.
That deflated Ferdinand’s mood just a bit, but he only smiled in return. “As do we all, I’m sure,” he said. Then, before he could add anything else, Byleth stood from her seat with a glance down at her phone.
“I’ve got to get ready,” she said plainly.
“I actually should too, I’m only a handful of riders behind you,” Ferdinand replied, taking a look at the time as well. His horse was young and a little unruly at times, though one of the fastest in the field, so he always liked to have plenty of time to get ready and feel out how the ride was going before he went into the ring.
And with somewhat competitive wishes of good luck, they both turned their separate ways, tending to their horses and putting finishing touches on their show outfits. Byleth was out of the stable first, Ferdinand not far behind. Though, he did regret that he didn’t get to see how her ride went, too busy warming up his stallion to stop and take the few minutes to watch.
His own course, though a little shaky, ended up being the fastest of the day, which Ferdinand took immense pride in. His horse had been overeager, pulling to the fences, but they managed to put in a really good run, never so much as rubbing a pole. Even if he was sweating and thoroughly out of breath by the end, having had to fight to keep control most of the way, he couldn’t have been happier with their result.
His good time and lack of faults landed him in a jump off, a tie breaker of sorts, with three other riders to decide who made the podium. Interestingly enough, when he heard who all had earned a place in the jump off, Byleth’s name had been among them. And after cooling off and taking a break for a while, when he tacked his stallion back up for the jump off late in the afternoon, he was eager to take her on and prove once and for all who was the better rider.
—————
The last person Edelgard expected to see when she made her way into the stands was Hilda. And yet, as she made her way down the row, looking for a pair of empty seats with a good view, the only open space happened to be right beside a familiar face, a splash of pink in the crowd. Part of her bristled, wanted to turn around and find somewhere else to sit, but those thoughts were quickly put to rest when Hilda caught sight of her and waved her over with a signature sugary smile. Who was she to refuse? So, she made her way over and took the empty seat beside Hilda, shooting Hubert, who she was meant to be meeting, a quick text to let him know where she ended up. Briefly, she took a glance up at the board that displayed the current rider. She was early, still had a while before Byleth was up, and couldn’t decide whether that was a good thing or not, given present company.
“Have you met Marianne yet?” Hilda asked by way of greeting, tipping her head to the girl sitting on her other side. Though, before Edelgard even had a chance to look her over, appraise her, her gaze snagged and their interlaced hands, something bitter rising in her chest. It was an old reaction, almost jealous, but it had faded with time. And before she knew it, the feeling faded some, and she brought a slight smile to her lips, trying to be happy for them. Even if she had her eyes on someone else, on the future, it was still hard not to look back down the lane of what could have been. Though, that temptation was easier to ignore, now, knowing why she was in the stands today. It was to see Byleth, at her invitation, not Hilda.
“I don’t think I have, or not officially anyway,” Edelgard replied, politely swapping introductions with Marianne. She seemed nice enough, probably too nice for her own good. Still, if she was dating Hilda, Edelgard figured she must have had more strength and tenacity than she let on. In any case, Edelgard was strangely at peace seeing them happy together. In its own way, it lit a small spark of hope in her, knowing that she could have that same happiness with someone one day. Hopefully one day soon.
In any case, after a beat, Marianne stood, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I think I’m going to go find lunch,” she said quietly, though Edelgard recognized the polite way she excused herself. She was giving the two of them left remaining a chance to talk, the exes a chance to catch up without the current girlfriend around.
“Oh, bring me something, too,” Hilda chimed.
Marianne smiled, something sweet and soft, the corner of her eyes crinkling with it. “Alright,” she agreed, “I’ll be back later.” And, with that, she turned and headed down the way Edelgard had just come, retreating into the crowd.
Once she was gone, Edelgard let out a quiet sigh, thoughts and emotions she didn’t care to consider bubbling up in her chest. Still, even amongst the rise and fall of chatter and applause with the end of every round, the silence between them weighed too heavy. In the end, when some of the cheers died down, Edelgard cleared her throat, though her gaze never wavered from the arena. “You’re lucky, you know that, right?” she said lightly, careful to keep any bitter notes from her tone.
“I know.” Hilda replied so quickly, with so much conviction, that Edelgard actually believed her. “Soulmates don’t come around every day, and I’m not going to take Marianne for granted,” she added. And from her tone, Edelgard could only picture the pleased grin on her face.
Still, she didn’t look.
“Soulmates, huh?” Edelgard considered, the word feeling weighty on her tongue. It always seemed like a foolish notion, that there was a single person out there meant to be matched to another forever. Though, it was still a romantic one, and she couldn’t deny the possibility made her heart ache just a little with something like longing.
“Yeah. I think that’s what she is,” Hilda replied with a seriousness Edelgard had rarely ever seen in her. It must have been something only Marianne could really pull out, and Edelgard could understand that. Different people could coax different sides out of someone, bring out the best or worst in them. And even if it wasn’t her that brought it about, it was nice to see Hilda care enough about something, about someone, to take things seriously.
“I used to think that was you. That you were going to be with me forever.” Quiet, solemn, the words were almost swallowed up by the noise of the stadium. The guarded, defensive part of Edelgard wished they had, regretted saying them the moment they left her lips. But, she meant what she said, and from the hand reaching out to hesitantly rest at her elbow, from the sad smile Edelgard found when she finally looked over, she knew that Hilda had heard her.
“I hated leaving, you know. I still hate that I had to leave. Even though I wouldn’t change it for the world, and I’m so grateful for Marianne and everything I have now, it still sucks, what happened back then,” Hilda said.
Giving something of a weak laugh, Edelgard just nodded, reaching over to cover Hilda’s hand with her free one. “It does, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, but life’s just like that. You can’t be sad about it forever,” Hilda countered, something a little more playful slipping into her tone at the end. Probably just to lighten the mood, Edelgard figured.
“You think too highly of yourself,” Edelgard teased. It felt nice, comfortable, more like the way things used to be.
“Oh yeah?” Hilda asked, raising a manicured brow.
“I might have loved you, but I’m not going to spend my whole life missing you. There are other girls out there.”
Before Edelgard could hardly get the words out, Hilda had taken her hand between both of her own, eyes all wide and sparkling with something equally excited and mischievous. “Who is it? Who’s the girl?”
“I wasn’t talking about anyone in particular,” Edelgard replied, a little flustered, though she knew the lie was obvious. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks at being caught, and besides, Hilda had always had a keen nose for gossip and relationship drama.
“You never would have said that a little bit ago. There absolutely is a girl!” Hilda insisted. Then, a realization seemed to strike her, and a Cheshire Cat grin unfurled across her lips. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To watch her?”
Edelgard’s first instinct was to rush to deny it, but then she realized that she had no idea how many riders had gone by since she’d sat down. And, she hadn’t even been watching the last handful, too wrapped up in talking to Hilda. Sure enough, just a beat later, Byleth’s name flashed up on the board across the arena, the announcer calling out her name as well.
“And, there she is,” Hilda remarked when Edelgard didn’t reply. But, she seemed somewhere off in the periphery, Edelgard too focused on trying to watch to make a retort back. She had little to no knowledge of the sport, but she could still pick out an above average athlete from the rest, and even at the start, it was clear Byleth was sharp and focused.
To Edelgard’s knowledge, everything went flawlessly well. By the end of the course, a blazing time was set, and not a single fault showed up against her. Letting out a breath, relieved she had done well, Edelgard watched as the next rider came in, someone she had never heard of before. However, her focus was more in keeping the smile pulling at her lips small and tempered, not really wanting to invoke more of Hilda’s teasing. Still, she was endlessly glad Byleth had done well, even if the competition wasn’t over yet.
It was only a little while later that Hubert found her, taking the open seat beside her. “Has the rider you were wanting to watch gone yet?” he asked, folding his hands in his lap.
“You just missed her,” Edelgard replied.
“And?”
Before she could help herself, she was smiling again, something warm blooming in her chest. “She did really well,” she said.
Hubert only hummed in acknowledgement, shifting his attention down to the current rider. Edelgard had hardly been watching, lost in other thoughts. Though, she was surprised by how much focus Hubert seemed to be giving the ride.
He made the reason quite obvious, though, when he cleared his throat, choosing his words carefully. “Do you happen to know if Ferdinand von Aegir has ridden yet?” he asked, feigning casual, passing interest. And, before she could answer, “If Adrestia has a chance at winning a medal, I believe he is our top competitor.” It was a rather elegant attempt to explain away his curiosity, being strictly of the professional nature, but Edelgard had learned to read the subtle variances in his expression a long time ago.
“You haven’t missed him,” she replied knowingly, resisting the urge to tease him over it. Maybe Hilda had rubbed off on her more than she realized, with her penchant for poking fun at people. Always good-naturedly, of course.
Hubert let out a breath of relief, tempered and subtle, but noticeable nonetheless. “I hope he makes Adrestia proud,” he said, something else, something kinder written between the lines.
“I’m sure he’ll do great, Hubert,” Edelgard replied, assured.
The hard set of Hubert’s mouth softened some at her words, his flinty gaze easing too. “Yes, you’re right,” he agreed, carefully brushing his hair just enough away from his eyes that he could see a little better when the next rider entered the ring.
With that settled, for the rest of the afternoon, Edelgard actually found herself enjoying the company, Hilda and Marianne at one side, Hubert on the other. Things between her and Hilda felt lighter than they had in ages, and it was fun to be able to talk with all the other athletes. All that was left to do was wait and see if Byleth could make the podium.
———————
Leaning on the arena fence in a baseball cap with her jacket shed and sleeves rolled up was not at all how Byleth wanted to experience the medal presentation. The guy from earlier, Ferdinand, was standing proud exactly where she was supposed to be, a gold medal shining around his neck. And there she was, hanging back at the outskirts, disappointed with herself more than anything else.
After a stellar first course, her jump off had been nothing short of a mess. She was tired, her horse was tired, and that led to more mistakes than she could count. Sloppy jumps, a slow pace and poorly planned turn added up to swiftly knock her down to the bottom of the running. Still a respectable fourth place overall, but dead last in the jump off. And she hadn’t come this far just to miss the podium by a single place, to miss her chance at bringing home another medal.
Kicking at the dirt with the toe of her boot, Byleth listened to the announcements and roaring applause pour past her, echoing all around. Something like frustration simmered with the disappointment, dredging up muddy emotions. All she knew was at the end of the day, three of her five events were up, and she’d failed to medal at the last two. That was almost as infuriating as it was heartbreaking. Still, curling her fingers into the fence board, she resolved to do better next time. If she could just work harder, push harder, then maybe she could manage to medal in the last two events and salvage her meager performance so far.
That was just so, so much easier said than done.
Letting out a tired sigh, Byleth leaned a little more on the fence, watching some of the celebration start to wind down. If she happened to wipe her damp eyes when no one was looking, that wasn’t anyone’s business but her own.
She stayed there until her competitors were gone off the podium and the stands had mostly cleared away. Everything always felt different, then, when the arena was clearing out at the end of the day. Empty, a little lonely. And when Byleth finally turned to leave, steeling herself and pushing off the fence line, she didn’t expect to almost run straight into a familiar face.
The setting sunlight caught on pale hair, casting a warm glow over it. And lavender eyes met her own, kind and every bit as soft and welcoming as the slanting sun rays. Something in Byleth’s heart ached a little at the sight, and even if she couldn’t pick apart the emotion settling in her chest, she knew there was no one she would rather see. The soft smile that pulled across her lips, small as it was, couldn’t have been more real, more genuine.
“Edelgard,” she said, just a little surprise coloring her tone.
“I hope you don’t mind a little company,” Edelgard said in reply, looking almost a little shy. It was cute, the pale hint of a blush dusting across her cheeks, and something warm and light washed over Byleth at the sight. All her troubles seemed eased, a little, with Edelgard by her side. Still there, weighing, but lightened some. And even if they’d only just met recently, Byleth couldn’t deny the effect that her presence had. Or the feelings it brought out.
“Not at all,” she assured, breathing a little easier now.
“I’m glad.” Edelgard offered a quiet smile, eyes softening with it, and stepped in just a bit closer. And for a while, no one said anything more. They just stood and watched the sun set over the stands, the first beginnings of twilight splashing across the sky. The bustle of the day slowly faded out until no one was left in sight aside from a few employees cleaning away the clutter. By the time Edelgard spoke up again, Byleth felt so much better than she had before, frayed and frazzled nerves soothed some by the quiet atmosphere.
“I was watching, earlier today. You did a really good job,” she said, the words soft but weighty, filled with meaning that hit Byleth like a wave to the chest. She wanted to crumple with relief at the praise, the recognition, the unwavering support. Ever since she stepped out of the ring after the jump off, poles lying on the ground behind her, failures written like lines in the sand, all she could see were her mistakes, playing again and again in her head. Because she hadn’t been good enough this time. And that voice, saying she wasn’t good enough, was just so loud sometimes, when she was always striving to do better. But then Edelgard came around with her honest gaze and kind smile, and swept all of that doubt away.
“You think so?” Byleth asked, wishing the words didn’t sound so weak and brittle. So often, she didn’t feel things like she was supposed to, as strongly as everyone said she should have. But there was something in the exhaustion, and in the comfort, that tapped against the glass walls around her heart, broke them down just a little more every time. And when the rush of emotions came, they were dizzying.
“I do; you should be proud of yourself. But I know that’s hard,” she said, and Byleth got the feeling she was speaking from personal experience. There was just something to the downward tilt of her gaze, the way her hand curled into a loose fist before she let it go.
Giving a quiet sigh, Byleth considered the words, let them turn over in her head and try to take root. “I just know I can do better,” she said finally.
Edelgard only hummed in response, something quiet and considering. Then, after a beat, she reached up and pulled the ribbons from her hair, pale strands falling loose in captivating waves. For a moment, Byleth could only stare, a little more lovestruck than she would’ve liked to admit. But then Edelgard came closer and gently took her wrist. With endearing determination and focus written into her expression, she tied one of the lavender ribbons around Byleth’s wrist, keeping hold of the other.
“For good luck,” she supplied once she was finished. A little sheepishly, she tucked her now loose hair behind one ear with a hand, holding tight to her remaining ribbon with the other. “I know it’s a little silly, but these kinds of things always make me feel better.”
Meeting Edelgard’s gaze, then glancing down at the simple bow she had tied around her wrist, Byleth could have melted with the sweet gesture. “Thank you,” she said instead, clutching the hand to her chest like that ribbon was the most precious thing in the world. And in that moment, it might as well have been. Like a connection to better things.
“You helped me before my event. This is the least I could do,” Edelgard replied.
For a moment, Byleth wanted to disagree, wanted to tell her this moment felt like everything, and she could have done so, so much less. Anyone else would have done less. But, she couldn’t sort the tangle of words and emotions out, so instead, she tentatively reached out and took Edelgard’s hand, lacing their fingers together when she didn’t flinch or pull back. And though quiet settled over them again, Byleth found herself wanting to stay. For now, with the budding feelings still held close in her chest, there was nothing left to do, nothing left to say, but she just couldn’t bring herself to go. There were a dozen reasons to, but none of them could outweigh the hand entwined with hers.
It was only when the sun had sunken beneath the horizon, turning peachy hues into darker, bruised tones, then twilight blues, that Byleth brought herself to take that first step back, hands coming apart from each other.
“Tell me I’ll see you again?” she questioned.
“I’m sure you will.”
That certainty in Edelgard’s voice, that promise, was all Byleth needed to head back to her room looking towards the coming days with something new in her perspective, something like hope.