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It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The first mission Byleth had gotten after waking up from a five-year sleep had been meant to be something easy. Just an infiltration to the Kingdom to steal some ancient relic from an abandoned holy site before going back to Garreg Mach to plan out the invasion stage of the Empire’s war.
Apparently, there had been spies overhearing their war council, because the moment they arrived, the Black Eagle Strike Force found itself trying to outmaneuver Kingdom and Church officials. They were also interested in securing the artifact now that they knew that the Empire was going to try to pilfer it under their noses.
Which led them to their current predicament.
Byleth sighed, pushing the hair out of the way. But no matter how much she tussled it, blonde locks fell back in place.
“How do you even see?” She complained.
The voice that came out was deeper than Byleth expected- rough and tired, like someone who had yelled for far too long.
Across from Byleth, Dimitri pouted with Byleth’s mouth, crossing Byleth’s arms and glaring down Byleth’s nose... at Byleth. Which looked kind of ridiculous when Byleth’s current body was taller than Dimitri’s.
“Silence!” shouted Dimitri, using Byleth’s voice. “This is all your fault!”
“My fault? I’m not the only one that reached for the staff!”
Saint Cethleann’s holy relic, a beautiful mythril staff called the Caduceus, was now bent beneath Dimitri’s grip, damaged during their struggle to grab it at the same time. Or, perhaps it was now Byleth’s grip? It was in the hand that Byleth could now use to hold things. She tried to unbend the staff, using Dimitri’s other hand. But instead of returning to its original shape, the staff snapped from the force put into it.
“And now you broke it!” Dimitri sighed, slapping Byleth’s forehead using her hand.
“Alright, alright…” Byleth grumbled. It’s okay. Whenever she made a mistake, she could easily fix it. “Let’s give it another shot…”
“What?”
Byleth didn’t bother explaining herself. Soon enough, the hands of time would turn back and the moment would be erased. And now she knew where to look to find the Caduceus first. Even Edelgard knew the value of such a special tool, regardless of whether it was truly sacred or not. They absolutely needed it to give it to Linhardt for their war effort.
Byleth closed Dimitri’s eyes, and reached for the pulse of time sleeping within her, just as she had done countless times before to save her students and friends in battle.
But the Caduceus was still broken, Dimitri-in-her-body was raising an eyebrow at her, and Byleth was still stuck in Dimitri’s body.
Fuck.
Why didn’t it work? When Sothis fused with Byleth— did she only fuse with her body and not her… soul?
Well. If that was indeed the case, Byleth couldn’t blame Sothis. After all, people usually don’t just … switch bodies. No one could’ve seen this coming. Even the Goddess.
Regardless of the reason why, Byleth now had no access to her Divine Pulse, and was stuck in a situation that she had to get out of. What now?
“Dimitri you wouldn’t happen to…?”
Actually, forget it. If Dimitri even managed to turn back time, that was a huge piece of intel Byleth would be just handing over to the enemy. And who knew what would happen if Dimitri went back too far?
Dimitri waited for Byleth to say something else. But when it was clear that Byleth was too stuck in her own head (or was it Dimitri’s head?) to even bother finishing her questions, he simply let out a small sigh and said: “No. I have no idea what you did.”
“Why are you blaming me?” Byleth asked, regretting that she didn’t immediately strike him down when she had the chance. Except, not really. The reason why they had both struggled for the staff in the first place was because she couldn’t fathom even hurting him—
“You’re the Goddess’s vessel! All of this—” he made a wide gesture at her body, “has to be your fault! You must have done something to activate the Caduceus! I couldn’t have done it, I barely even know how to cast heal!”
She let out a sigh. “When you put it that way, that does make sense,” Byleth conceded. “So, what now?”
“You’re asking me?” Dimitri crossed Byleth’s arms with scorn. “Aren’t you the precious professor that came back from the dead? Surely, you have all the answers to all of our questions!”
But before Byleth could give him a clever rebuttal, someone warped Dimitri— that is to say, Byleth’s body away. It didn’t take her long to see where her delightful conversation partner had been warped to: Hubert had moved Byleth’s body just next to where he and Edelgard were, a stone's throw away.
“My teacher!” Edelgard wrapped her arms around whom she assumed was Byleth. “You’re not hurt, are you?”
Dimitri, on the other hand, had gone completely still. It seemed that he was in shock. But Byleth wasn’t going to sit on her hands and wait for Dimitri to snap out of it.
“El, watch out!” Byleth yelled. “That’s not me!”
“What—?” Edelgard asked, but before she could even ask her question, Hubert had decided that right then was the perfect moment to just blast a Miasma spell right at Byleth.
It was all thanks to a well-timed Rescue spell that she was not writhing on the floor in agony.
“King Dimitri! Are you alright?” Flayn asked, checking Dimitri’s body for any injuries. “Oh—! You broke the Caduceus…”
Byleth had prepared herself mentally to meet again with Flayn at some sort of war council, or, if they were particularly unlucky, on the battlefield.
She wasn’t entirely sure if this was better or worse.
“Don’t worry about it!” Seteth yelled, landing his wyvern just next to them. “We can repair it back in Fhirdiad! Flayn, your Majesty, let’s go!”
“Come, your Majesty! We must make haste!” Flayn said, tugging on her– Dimitri’s– fuck. If she was going to be using his body, might as well consider it hers. Flayn tugged her arm.
“Flayn, Seteth! Wait just a moment.”
“Is something wrong?”
“I need to talk to Dimitri.”
Understandably, both of them stared at her as if she had completely lost her mind.
...
...
“So. You two got your bodies switched by the power of the Caduceus?” Hubert said, to fill in the awkward silence that had fallen all around them. “Preposterous. That sort of thing is impossible. Lady Edelgard, I must regret to inform you that surely this is some sort of ruse—”
“I have faith in my teacher,” Edelgard interrupted him. “If she says that she’s currently in Dimitri’s body and Dimitri is in hers, then it must be true.”
“The Caduceus can make people switch bodies,” Flayn said, ”but...”
“But what?” Dimitri asked.
“It just can’t be!” Flayn shook her head, and then stared at both of them with huge eyes. “It can only happen when two soulmates grasp it at the same time!”
“What?” Byleth asked. The strange thundering in her chest seemed to quicken. “A-are you sure that it can’t accidentally do that if just two random people grab it?”
“Not at all! There’s no denying it...you two are soulmates!” Flayn seemed to be shocked at the revelation, and yet, she seemed to be absolutely certain of what she was saying. “Oh, I just don’t get it… King Dimitri’s such a nice person. Why would he be your soulmate?”
“Wow, way to make a girl feel welcome…” Byleth groaned.
“I suppose stranger things have happened,” Seteth conceded.
At least he seemed to be taking all of this in stride. Lady Rhea, however, seemed just about ready to rip Dimitri’s neck out. It was probably a good thing that everybody gathered had silently decided to keep an eye on her.
“Alright, so what do we do to fix it?” Byleth asked impatiently. She was more than ready to get this extremely awkward reunion done with.
“Yes, Flayn. What do they need to do?” Seteth asked, crossing his arms.
“A-ah well….” Flayn stuttered. “This function was meant for soulmates, so… you must truly and deeply understand the other person, and once you’ve seen the world through their eyes and gained a deeper understanding about them, you must share a loving kiss.”
“I am not kissing myself!” Dimitri crossed his arms. “Especially not when my body is inhabited by someone so callous and ruthless!”
“Well, you’re not a sweet peach either!” Byleth retaliated. “I refuse to kiss you too!”
“It’s… not…” Flayn sighed. “Oh dear. It seems that you two must sort out a lot of things before the spell can be truly broken. ”
“What happens if they kiss before that, Flayn?” Seteth pressed, his voice gaining a slightly dangerous edge.
“In theory, nothing. The two should remain still in each other’s bodies until their relationship grows deeper and they kiss. It must be both. But, I’ve never seen a pair of soulmates ever fail at that…” Flayn hummed. ”Then again, I’ve never seen a pair of soulmates be so stubbornly against each other, so…”
Adorable as ever, Flayn merely shrugged.
“I guess I’ll never get my body back, then,” Byleth shrugged.
“I’d rather not have King Dimitri on my side, even if I know that my teacher is in his body…” Edelgard mused. “Though, I suppose having the strength of the King of Faerghus would prove useful to the war…”
“Ha! Good luck with that. It takes years to control the amount of finesse one needs to exist normally when one has the Crest of Blaiddyd,” Dimitri turned to Byleth, and pointed at the crushed Caduceus staff. “How about we schedule a ten-year truce whilst your precious teacher learns how to not break every weapon put in her hands?”
“He has a point,” Byleth said, feeling relieved that perhaps, she wouldn’t have to face off against Dimitri and the other Blue Lions on the battlefield. “I can’t fight a war like this.”
“Hm. This might be an odd set of circumstances, but perhaps they might give us a chance to put all the cards on the table...” Seteth rubbed his chin. “Emperor, what are your demands?”
“My demands…?” Edelgard furrowed her snow-white eyebrows.
“We received a copy of your manifesto stating that the Church is corrupt and must be immediately toppled down” Seteth managed to keep his voice level, but his grip on his arms as he crossed them was tighter than it should have been. “There are many things I could say now about what I think about such slander, but in good faith, I will instead point out that we have now before us an opportunity that we should try to take. After all, the war was declared swiftly and without a chance to parley. Surely, there is a point of compromise we could all agree to without proceeding with this war?”
“Ha! Good luck getting all the nobility to renounce their hereditary positions without a fight!” Byleth taunted, crossing Dimitri’s arms and looking down at Seteth.
“Goodness, you two really are soulmates…” Flayn shook her head.
“Faerghus doesn’t have hereditary positions in government like Adrestia,” Dimitri mirrored her, crossing Byleth’s arms. “We do have property and title inheritance. Do you propose we remove those? What system will take its place if we do?”
“Titles will still exist, as well as their respective land divisions,” Edelgard explained. “However, the people that have the right to those titles and lands must be appointed, and upon their death a new person must be appointed.”
“The stewardship of a land will be granted not to a dynasty, but to an individual…?” Dimitri muttered. “What about the highest positions in government? Who appoints those?”
“When it comes to the title of Emperor, I will name a successor and retire once I’ve set things in order.” Edelgard smiled.
It filled Byleth with joy to see Edelgard finally getting a chance to explain her absolutely brilliant ideas. A chance for all people, noble and commoner alike, to manage the country… that was a cause worth fighting for.
“…I see.” Dimitri, on the other hand, seemed to be trying to wrap his head around the concept. Byleth might’ve only been a teacher for a short while, but even she could recognize that tell-tale apprehension that betrayed when someone was not keeping up with the lecture but was too scared to ask for clarification. “So you want a change in government. Are those all of your demands?”
“Crests must have their importance lessened,” Byleth added, “They’re what started this whole mess!”
“Oh, believe you me they are the start of all this…” Rhea grumbled.
“Hm. Crests do have some practical uses, especially when it comes to defending our borders. Our lords there have been relying on crests and the power of relics since the founding of the Kingdom to keep invasions at bay. However, it is true that some lords do get overzealous about them. In the Kingdom, succession is usually by order of birth, but there have been occasions where firstborn children get passed over for younger ones that do have a crest, which I think is taking it a bit too far,” Dimitri conceded. “Not to mention, it seems that crested bloodlines are running thin, with each new generation seeming to possess fewer crests than the last. I’m sure there will be a time where crests are no longer passed down.”
“I think I remember someone mentioning that before,” Byleth piped in. “If we just leave them be, crests might disappear altogether if people don’t make any effort to keep the bloodlines pure for them.”
“Indeed. We need to dissuade the people from passing them on… that will be hard in the Kingdom. But it shouldn’t be impossible considering that most crest-bearers in our generation seem to agree that it might be best to not rely on them.” Dimitri nodded. “That is all, I presume? Now I can start with my own—”
“One last thing,” Edelgard turned to glare at Rhea. “The Children of the Goddess must be removed from power and stop manipulating mankind! They also must come clean with the true history of Fódlan!”
“The true history?” Flayn raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Seteth and Rhea with confusion.
“Yes! The way you have been manipulating mankind from the shadows for countless years,” Edelgard raised a finger and pointed at Rhea. “Isn’t that right… Immaculate One?”
Rhea didn’t seem particularly shocked nor scared that Edelgard had just revealed her true, inhuman nature to her allies—just mildly annoyed.
“You want the truth?” Rhea growled. “I’ll give you the truth.”
Byleth reached for the sword at her hip… but it wasn’t there anymore. Right. She was still in Dimitri’s body. The King of Faerghus didn’t carry a sword at his side, and Byleth wasn’t well versed with lances. Still, if being a mercenary for most of her life taught her anything, it was that you sometimes had to work with what you got. Byleth slowly reached for the lance behind her as Rhea raised her hands to her head and… tucked her hair behind her ears.
Seteth and Flayn gasped. The tips of her ears were pointed- the mark of a Child of the Goddess. She turned to them with a gentle smile and nodded ever-so slightly, before turning once again to face Edelgard, icy glare back in place.
“I am a Nabatean. A child of the goddess. You might have heard of me as Seiros of Zanado.”
“Seiros of Zanado!?” Dimitri gasped. “B-but if you are her, then that means—”
“Our kind lives long lives. Longer than most humans,” Rhe—Seiros explained. “There were more of us, but now, there is only me. After Wilhelm founded Adrestia and his heir was on the throne, I decided to dedicate myself solely to honoring my brethren and mother who were so cruelly taken from me.”
“Sothis…” Seteth furrowed his brows.
“A compelling story to be sure. But do you have proof?” Edelgard asked.
The Archbishop’s eyes turned towards the Sword of the Creator at Dimitri’s hip. “I have a lot more proof than you’d think. But, are you ready to listen to it, I wonder…?”
“Enough with this talking in riddles!” Edelgard crossed her arms. “Just come out and say it.”
Seiros closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. Her hands were clasped together in front of her, but even as she clenched them tightly, Byleth could still see that they were shaking. With fear? With anger? Perhaps even some sort of silent and deadly spell?
“The items you call relic weapons and crest stones…” Seiros finally said, after a small eternity. “Are the bones and hearts of my family.”
A long silence fell over the impromptu peace parley.
“Th-that’s… that’s absurd!” Byleth shook her head until she saw stars. No way. No fucking way.
“Why do you think only people with the right bloodline can wield their respective relic without transforming into a demonic beast?” Seiros said. “The bones and hearts rejected all humans that disturb them- that is, until Nemesis and his allies discovered a way to trick the remains of my family to bend to their will. By drinking the blood of my kin, they could acquire their power and not be rejected by their hearts.”
“Th-the blood…” Dimitri stuttered. This was apparently news to him too. “Did all noble crest lines start this way?”
“Yes,” Seiros said. “Some of my human allies were gifted crests by what little remained of my family, the four apostles and the four saints. I gave Wilhelm my own blood. The rest were stolen by Nemesis and the Ten Elites. Them and their Agarthan allies!”
Dimitri stared at Byleth, begging for answers. Too bad she had absolutely no fucking clue what was going on.
“Who are the Agarthans?” Byleth asked, deciding to go for the first and most obvious question.
“When the Goddess walked this land, there were groups of humans that thought her divine presence on this earth was a blight upon humanity. I have reason to believe that ever since then, they have constantly been trying to finish their massacre of the Nabateans.”
“Massacre…” Byleth wanted to believe that it was all some sort of trick. That the fault of this crooked world had always been on the Church of Seiros. That if the power of the Church was taken away, everything else would fall into place. But if what Seiros said was true, then that meant—
“They’ve never attacked us in the open,” Seiros continued. “The closest I’ve ever come to catching them was when Loog agreed to not purge the Church of Seiros in his territory, in exchange for a crown and being publicly accepted by the Church.”
“So the Church didn’t carve out the Kingdom from Adrestia and weaken it?”
“Why would I want to divide Adrestia?” Seiros spat out. “I helped found the Empire! I gave Wilhelm my blood, and he was my strongest ally in defending what little remained of my family! And now…!”
“Lady Rhea,” Seteth gently interrupted her. “That is to say… Lady Seiros. Perhaps we should plan out a formal peace parley at another date? You seem to be quite agitated.”
“Yes. Yes… I must apologize.” Seiros took a deep breath. “Even after all these years, losing my mother and my sisters and brothers… it’s an ache that lives on in me.”
“I believe I must apologize, too.” Edelgard muttered. “I had no idea— I must reflect on the information on which I decided to start this war. I–I’m sorry.”
The air was heavy all around them. Perhaps El also noticed that Rhea also lost ten siblings at the hands of Those who Slither in the Dark.
...
...
Getting used to Dimitri’s body was… well. It sure was something. During the last two weeks, Byleth had bumped into more low-hanging candelabra than she’d like to admit. It was actually kind of strange. If all Blaiddyds were this stupidly tall, then why was their frigid castle filled to the brim with low-hanging things they could smack right into? She would’ve loved to ask Dimitri how he coped with his ridiculous height, but unfortunately, he was more often than not busy in the back and forth negotiations between the Kingdom, the Church and the Adrestian Empire. But after a lot of pushing back and forth, it seemed that everybody had settled on a couple of concessions and agreements to maintain peace.
First and foremost, Lady Rhea (or Seiros or whatever she went by these days), had to relinquish her position as the Archbishop of the Church of Seiros to a mortal or someone who wouldn’t live an absurdly long life.
Second, the independence and borders of the Kingdom will be respected, as long as the Kingdom’s nobility system is replaced by elected officials from the local populations. The Empire will also pay reparations for the damage done in the five years of war.
Third, the Kingdom, the Church, and the Empire were to become part of an alliance to utterly obliterate the Agarthans. Of course, this point wasn’t known to anyone outside their small group. This point led directly into the last agreement:
To solidify the agreement between all parties, there would have to be a political marriage between someone representing the Kingdom and someone representing the Empire. The obvious choice would’ve been Edelgard and Dimitri, but them being siblings-in-law certainly put a damper on that idea. (Not to mention, Dimitri and Byleth still being in each other’s bodies). In the end, it was decided to just let Byleth be the representative of the Empire in the political alliance. After all, she had a prominent position as a commander of the Imperial Army, and as a personal advisor for the Emperor.
Growing up as a random nobody mercenary, Byleth had to admit that the idea of having to marry out of political necessity was never one that occurred to her. Then again, marriage and relationships in general never really registered in her mind either—a side effect of never having any real emotion until Sothis barged into Byleth’s mind, threw her entire world upside down, and then promptly left her without a clear explanation of why she even was with her for that brief time they were together.
“You don’t mind just marrying someone you hate?” Byleth asked Dimitri, as he was reading over some legal document or other to organize the representation blocks for the Kingdom regions.
“I don’t hate you,” Dimitri said, not looking up from the documents. “I just despise your actions and choices.”
“And that’s not hating me because…?”
“You can hold great esteem for someone,” when Dimitri looked at Byleth with her eyes, she could see the hurt in them. “Even if they have repeatedly disappointed you.”
Wait.
“Disappointed…?” Byleth asked, surprised. “You looked up to me?”
“I never said that!”
“But you did say you were disappointed—and to be disappointed in someone, you must have looked up to them or at least held some kind of expectation towards them, no?”
Dimitri let out a small grunt of displeasure. If he still had his original body, it probably would have sounded like a deep, fearsome growl. With Byleth’s voice, it simply sounded like he was in pain.
“I looked up to you too, you know? I still do,” Byleth admitted. Perhaps Dimitri would be more receptive, if she opened up first? She had tried to avoid facing the feelings that he had stirred within her before, but now…“You— I started to look up to you when you were training the orphans, and when you helped out those people that were stuck in that toppled wagon.”
“It was the least I could do. It’d be a waste if the ridiculous strength I was born with wasn’t used for the benefit of others,” Dimitri mumbled, looking as if he wanted to dive into the map he was examining a moment ago. Although he tried to hide it, he had no luck in covering the blush that was burning his face.
That was odd. Byleth had very rarely blushed in her original body. Was he blushing with embarrassment? Or, was he simply overworked?
A part of her wished for the former.
But with her luck, it was probably the latter. Byleth knew Dimitri had been quite busy day in and out.
“You’ve been working too hard,” Byleth said, “Are you getting sick?”
“I-it’s fine,” Dimitri rubbed his face. “I just haven’t been able to sleep well these last couple of days. I had some plans for reforms for the Kingdom before this happened, but even with what I had planned, it’s not enough to make these changes so suddenly. This kind of complete change is quite complicated and there are many things to consider.”
“Take better care of yourself.”
“I know, this is your body. We will hopefully be returned to our bodies soon with our wedding soon upon us.”
Byleth wanted to protest that she hadn’t told him to take care of himself because she was concerned about her body. But at least Dimitri had managed to circle back to the conversation she wanted to have in the first place.
“What do you think? About getting married?”
“My advisors had some concerns that you might not be important enough in the Empire to make our marriage have any real political weight, despite the Kingdom offering up the most prestigious marriage alliance we can—”
“That’s not what I meant!” Byleth crossed her arms. “What do you think?”
“The people are naturally concerned that we might get absorbed by the Empire in the long run, especially if there is no designated heir,” Dimitri smoothly switched the tracks of the conversation, but still avoided her direct question. “Having fought against Adrestia for so long, it’s only natural for there to be some resentment. Fortunately, I have kept the borders closed all of these years, and most skirmishes involving the Empire were minor. The commoners closest to the border might be wary, but if you make several public appearances and get involved in charity and reconstruction efforts I’m sure they’ll accept you.”
Byleth walked over to where Dimitri was seated, and decided to take a page out of his book. She crossed her arms, and looked down her nose at him, making sure to lower her voice just a little to take full advantage of Dimitri’s impressive build.
“But what do you think? Not as a king, nor as the leader of your people. Do you want to marry me?”
Dimitri looked up at her, and from this angle, Byleth could appreciate just how much of a size difference there was between them.
“I—” Dimitri visibly gulped, but nevertheless kept his eyes trained on hers.
For a moment, Byleth was certain that she had broken through him. There was a certain touch of vulnerability in how Dimitri looked up at her. Byleth didn’t want to think that he looked pitiable, because she didn’t need any pity and it was coming from her body. But... It really wasn’t her body now, was it?
“I was born and raised to not allow my selfish wants and desires get the better of me,” Dimitri finally said, breaking through that moment of weakness. “I know it’s a difficult concept to grasp, when all of your life you were burdened with freedom. I think instead of worrying about what I think, you should be more concerned with yourself.”
“Me? What do you mean?”
Dimitri leaned his chin against his hand, a smirk almost playing about his lips. “Are you prepared to be a royal consort?”
“It can’t be that difficult,” Byleth huffed.
“It wouldn’t be, if you were marrying the Emperor.” Dimitri picked up the map he was studying and looked at it as he walked towards the door. “But in Faerghus, a royal consort is expected to organize and host official ceremonies in representation of the crown, help in Kingdom administration if so requested, sponsor the Royal School of Sorcery, attend any peace treaties we sign—oh, and also oversee the money we collect for the church.”
Byleth gaped at him.
“Of course, that’s just off the top of my head.” Dimitri’s smirk finally broke through as he reached the door. “I’m sure there are other duties to do.”
“That’s the job of the Prime Minister and the Ministers of the Household, Domestic Affairs, and Religious Affairs!” Byleth yelled in frustration.
“Cultural and Foreign Affairs too, actually,” Dimitri said with a sing-song voice. It almost sounded as if he was enjoying this. “If there’s another war— an open war, not a secret one like we’ll soon be working together in—you’d naturally be involved in the effort as the second top commander of the army. Which would mean you’d also take on the job of the Minister of Military Affairs. That was the role my ancestors had before they split off from Adrestia.”
“I can’t do all that! That’s the job of at least seven people!”
“Oh you’ll be fine, professor,” Dimitri opened the door and then prepared himself to flee the room. “You were an Imperial advisor, which is basically the same in terms of workload.”
“Dimitri, I just woke up! I haven’t been an Imperial advisor for long!” Byleth yelled at his back, but Dimitri had already run out by the time she finished saying that.
At least Byleth got the final laugh when she heard Dimitri stumble just outside the door because he still wasn’t used to running in heels.
...
...
“You really should be more careful!” Flayn chastised as she cast a healing spell on Dimitri’s swollen ankle. “If you hadn’t gotten this treated right away, it would’ve been too painful for you to stand in your own wedding!”
“He owes me, it’s only because I could overpower him and carry him here in the first place,” Byleth said, now enjoying the chance to give Dimitri a shit-eating grin. “Who knows? I might like to keep your body after all.”
“Oh, you will not keep it indefinitely,” Flayn said. “I’m sure that after your wedding, it will be all back to normal.”
“You’re right, the kiss.” Dimitri bit his lip. “After we kiss, we’ll be back in our bodies, right?”
“I think you might need to lower your expectations,” Flayn wrapped a bandage around Dimitri’s sprained ankle. “This swapping spell was meant for soulmates to get to experience life through their loved one’s eyes. To get to know them on a deeper level, and to understand them deeper than ever before. Of course, that’s quite easy to do when you’re soulmates. It should come naturally.”
“Right,” Byleth crossed her arms. “Well based on that, I don’t think we’ll ever get a chance to return to our bodies.”
“What do you mean?” Dimitri looked up, with one of his strangely pitiable expressions.
“I keep trying to open up, but someone doesn’t even want to answer my questions directly.”
“I-I think I need to go check up on how many bandages we have left.” Flayn hurried to finish bandaging Dimitri up.
“No! Wait! Flayn don’t leave me!” Dimitri begged, grasping at her hands.
“What, are you scared of me?” Byleth teased, even though for some reason, a part of her felt… hurt? Why would she be hurt that Dimitri didn’t want to talk to her?
“I’m not scared of you,” Dimitri abandoned Flayn’s hands to clench at the infirmary gurney. Byleth knew that if he still had his old body, the thin bedsheets would’ve ripped beneath his hand. “I’m just…”
“You have been working hard, haven’t you, Dimitri?” Flayn asked, after he had drifted off into silence. “You should stop for now and focus on recovering before the wedding.”
“I… suppose I can’t really run anywhere like this,” Dimiri sighed. “Professor, could you do me a favor?”
“What is it?”
“Could you ask Ingrid to come and help me get to my chambers? Felix should also be of help, too. Just. Don’t bring in Sylvain.”
“You got it.”
...
...
Dimitri didn’t know what he was expecting. Byleth had given him a nod in apology when Ingrid, Felix and Sylvain came into the infirmary and helped him get on his feet. Apparently, she had run into all three of them, and she just couldn’t tell Sylvain that Dimitri had deliberately asked for him to not tag along.
Fortunately, Ingrid was there. Dimitri felt guilty that she had been the rock he had been relying on ever since he had unexpectedly changed bodies, worried he was overburdening her with his many inquiries and questions about how to work with the body he had now. As far as he knew, Byleth hadn’t asked anyone for guidance concerning Dimitri’s body. Which made him wonder how she was managing. Perhaps Dimitri was just too ignorant for his own good? He felt childish whenever he thought about it for too long.
“I thought you were using shoes with the smaller heels,” Ingrid said, as she helped him raise his leg to the bed. “These kinds of shoes are very tricky to get used to!”
“I felt too short so I thought I could give these a try,” Dimitri admitted. “I can’t believe the professor even manages to battle with these!”
“She incorporated the heels into her fighting style,” Felix said. “She lowers her base and then uses them to stab your feet if you get too close to her. One time, when I was sparring with her, she even took one off and tried to hit me on the head with it.”
“Oh yeah. I’m sure the professor has been wearing heels for years.” Sylvain drew in a breath, as if he was about to make some sort of improper comment before Ingrid delivered a well-timed glare at him. He didn’t say anything else.
“Does it hurt?” she asked, pointing at Dimitri’s ankle.
“Not too much. Flayn is an impressive healer,” Dimitri smiled. “Thank you for helping me.”
“Looks like you won’t be able to finish that paperwork before the wedding with that sprained ankle.” Sylvain pointed out. “Why not take a well-earned break?”
“Are you serious? I’m nowhere near done with my duties and it’s not like I need my feet to—”
“What are you avoiding?” Felix asked, in only the way he really could.
“I’m not avoiding—”
“You don’t want to marry her?” Felix pressed.
“Oh no, Felix!” Sylvain teased. “I think Dimitri’s problem is the opposite. He still wants to marry her, even after all these years.”
“Can you two please leave?” Dimitri asked, with a glare. “I need to ask Ingrid about… something feminine.”
“Oh, did you get your period?” Sylvain asked.
“Alright, you two! Get out!” Ingrid then set about to herd the two boys outside the room.
Truly, Dimitri felt guilty over using the 'feminine problem' card whenever he wanted to be left alone with Ingrid. But he had to admit it was convenient. Out of all of his old childhood friends, Ingrid would be the least likely to judge him or make fun of him. She was also a fiercely discrete confidant.
“Alright, they should be out of our hair now,” Ingrid said, closing and bolting the door. “What did you need to ask me about?”
“Ingrid…” Dimitri racked his brains to come up with a decent question to entertain her with whilst he sulked. “Have you worn high heels like these before?”
“Oh! Actually, I have, your Majesty! Do you want me to tell you about it?”
“Please do,” Dimitri said, smiling.
“It all started when a cobbler came to visit my father’s manor…”
Once Ingrid started sharing her story, Dimitri immediately disconnected mentally to try to wrap his head around what had happened with Byleth earlier today. She had come dangerously close to realizing that he had held great… admiration for her. But that was over five years ago. He was a different man than who he had been back then. He had honestly thought that his feelings would surely vanish over time. Like how dreams grow more and more hazy after waking, until they are completely forgotten.
But knowing him and his nightmares hounding him day in and day out, he knew that he should’ve been prepared for the terrifying possibility that he might never lose that stupid, childish infatuation that did him no favors.
“...And then, my brother told me that the heels looked better on him. So I gave them to him!” Ingrid concluded.
“At least he got to use them,” Dimitri politely pointed out the obvious. “Does he still use them?”
“Only on Saint Cichol day and the Harvest Festival,” Ingrid smiled. “They’re a little cumbersome to use everyday.”
“Right,” Dimitri nodded. Then looked down at his ankle. At least, it wasn’t too badly swollen. “I haven’t even thought about what kind of shoes I’ll wear to my wedding. Or what kind of clothes, for that matter.”
“Well, that’s only to be expected. You’ll be married at the end of the moon! There just wasn’t enough time to plan things out.”
“At least I won’t be married in front of my people. Not until we get back in each others’ body, at least…”
“Did Flayn say what you needed to do to return to your body?”
“Yes. She said the spell was intended to experience life through your loved one’s eyes. Or something to that extent.”
“So…” Ingrid murmured. “Does that mean that you do love the professor?”
That was a simple question, with a complicated answer.
“Y-you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, your Majesty!” Ingrid quickly corrected herself.
“No, please don’t worry Ingrid. Truth be told… I have a hard time making sense of my feelings. If you had asked me, over five years ago, I would have been able to say that I at the very least held the professor in high regard.”
“High regard can lead to love,” Ingrid agreed.
“Yes. But, after the professor and all of the Black Eagle students left Garreg Mach after going down to the Holy Tomb,” Dimitri clenched his hands. “I couldn’t allow myself to feel anything but contempt to the people that would cause such terrible and irredeemable acts. As king, no matter what feelings I held for her, I…”
Dimitri sighed. He had said too much. He trusted Ingrid. But, if he allowed himself to talk about it, he might end up saying the thing that he feared was at the heart of his problem. And, like some sort of spell, if he actually said it out loud, he would be unable to deny it to himself anymore.
He had loved her, once. He still did.
...
...
They were married on a Saturday. Only the generals of the armies were present to witness the union. Dimitri had worn a doublet that sat awkwardly on him and a heavy-looking cape of fur and blue that, frankly, looked like it was too big for him.
Probably because it was. Byleth’s body was too small for most of his clothes.
She didn’t know why he had insisted on using something so cumbersome. It wasn’t even a real wedding. It was just a bunch of signing their names on a few papers (Byleth was quite proud that she only broke three quills considering how many times she had to sign), and a chance to have a feast.
Byleth wouldn’t be able to remember much about the vows or the specifics of the papers she signed. But she would have no trouble remembering the feast. They served beef stew with all sorts of expensive spices from Dagda, which made every mouthful feel like she was swallowing fire. It was just perfect to combat the cruddy cold of Fhirdiad in the late Guardian Moon. There was also a swan pie that looked quite grandiose and like something that should be the centerpiece of a real royal wedding, as it had been decorated with incredible detail to look like a swan, but had committed the unforgivable culinary faux-pas of being served cold (and no, she didn’t care that it was supposed to be eaten cold). At the very least, the fried carp was abundant and warm. For dessert, there was pound cake with raisins. Mead, ale, and wine flowed freely all throughout the evening.
They hit a point later in the night when most guests were very drunk. Byleth wasn’t surprised that Linhardt had fallen asleep first, but she had to admit that it was kind of cute to see Edelgard curled up on her seat after her third cup of wine. She didn’t expect to see Felix dozing off after only a pint of mead. Unsurprisingly, Dorothea and Sylvain were some of the few in the feast that still managed to keep going, despite the late hour and how many drinks they had.
“Hey, professor!” Sylvain waved at her to come on over. His face was flushed, and the tankard of ale he had on his hand was filled to the brim with his fifth serving. “Over here!”
“What is it?” Byleth asked, sitting next to Sylvain.
“Listen,” Sylvain whispered. “Just between you and me… you gotta be gentle with Dimitri. It’s his first time. And y’know… you’ve got a dangerous lance.”
Oh. Fuck.
She had forgotten about the wedding night.
“Hell, you know what? You should totally use oil,” Sylvain rambled on. “You stocked up on it, right?”
“It slipped my mind,” Byleth drank her ale. And tried to not snort at her clever little pun.
“Don’t worry professor!” Dorothea spoke up. “I’ll go get you some. It really helps!”
“It would, if we were going to do… that,” Byleth said. “But, don’t worry Doroth—”
“Oh! Sylvain, you should get the bedding started!” Dorothea laughed, and stumbled up.
“Great idea!” Sylvain put down his drink, and instead picked up a plate and a spoon. He clanged them together, as if he were trying to beat a drum. “Hey! Everybody! It’s time for the bedding!”
“The wh-what?” Bernadetta stuttered. “Is it finally over?”
“Sylvain!” Dimitri yelled from where he was sitting. “Don’t you dare—!”
“Come on! Come on!” Sylvain laughed, as he rallied some of the men. “We gotta get the newlyweds to their bedroom! We gotta prepare them for the joust.”
“Please. Just say fuck,” Byleth grumbled as several drunken men pushed her on her feet and tried to drag her outside.
“B-but we’re not going to do that!” Dimitri yelled as Dorothea and a surprisingly cooperative Ingrid dragged him away.
Dimitri tried to valiantly cling to the table to not get pulled away from his seat, but in the end, he only ended up pulling out the very expensive linen tablecloth.
Of course, the crowd was too drunk or tired to care. Byleth was carried to a very posh room, with a huge canopy bed. Now that she had seen the bed, she actually wouldn’t mind just falling asleep right away. Dimitri, on the other hand, looked like he was about to start crying.
As soon as Byleth noticed, she decided that all of this had gone for long enough.
“Alright. All of you, get out!” Byleth commanded.
“Professor, I’ve left the oil on the bedside table!” Dorothea laughed as she helped herd out the other guests.
“Have fun, you two!” Sylvain teased, and then closed the door behind him.
Even with the crowd gone, Dimitri still looked like he was about to cry.
Right.
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Byleth reassured him. “We don’t have to do anything like that if you’re not ready.”
Dimitri went from looking like he was about to cry, to just actually crying. He was sputtering and hiccuping something, but it was hard to tell what he was trying to say.
So Byleth gave him a hug and a few pats on the back. Eventually, he fell asleep from crying too much. Before Byleth allowed sleep to claim her too, she realized just how vulnerable he looked. She gently wiped away the tears on his eyelashes, and he mumbled something in his sleep, but didn’t wake up.
When she had first met him, his soft smile and friendliness had made her feel… strange. Nobody had spared much thought for an emotionless mercenary. In a way, Byleth was used to just being seen as a tool for death. When he had given her the tour of Garreg Mach, and tried to make conversation with her, Byleth realized for one of the few times in her life, someone had actually seen her.
It had been terrifying. Because if he could see her, then he’d realize her weaknesses. So she had done her best to avoid him so he wouldn’t see her for who she truly was, deep down. Her heart had been curious about what would happen if she had allowed him the chance to look at her. But her mind had vehemently decided that it was for the best to choose the house of the one person that didn’t seem to be on the track of figuring her out.
It was easier that way. Just another job for the Ashen Demon.
But if she had to have had to strike him down for good on the battlefield, she didn’t think she could do it. When both of them had reached for the Caduceus, Byleth had had the option to stab him with the Sword of the Creator and pry the staff from his corpse. But instead of going through with the easiest, most logical course of action, she found herself deciding that trying to wrench the staff from the hands of a bearer of the Crest of Blaiddyd was a much better alternative.
“Dimitri, I…” his voice on her lips sounded soft and gentle in the quiet of the night.
...
...
When Dimitri woke up, he found himself bundled up in a warm bed. His head hurt, and he didn’t really feel refreshed. What was wrong with him?
“Ugh…” he rubbed his eyes. “I didn’t even drink that much…”
“You had a pretty hard cry,” Byleth said, from the demichaise that she had slept in. Her legs dangled off the side because Dimitri’s body was too long for it. She hadn’t slept in the bed with him, probably because she didn’t want him to be uncomfortable. “Sometimes, crying too hard feels as bad as waking up with a bad hangover.”
“How do you know that?” Dimitri asked, but after the question left his mouth, he wanted nothing but to take it back.
“I’ve been hungover before,” Byleth said. “And when dad…”
“I…” Dimitri sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize.” Byleth brushed over it. “It’s not like you did it.”
Dimitri chewed his lip. Now that she had mentioned the old captain, the question of why she had chosen to side with Edelgard despite knowing the part she played in his father’s death was burning in his mind.
“Here, have some water,” Byleth said, reaching for one of the heavy and sturdy water pitchers that had been specifically made to withstand Blaiddyd strength. “That should help.”
Dimitri took the offered glass and took a sip. Byleth also poured herself some.
For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between them. Dimitri wondered if marital bliss felt like the moment they were sharing now. If it was, perhaps he could get used to being married.
“Professor—”
“You can call me by my name. We’re married now. It’s a little awkward if you kept calling me professor.”
“Right,” Dimitri nodded. “Byleth. I wanted to ask… Why did you choose to go with Edelgard when she revealed herself, five years ago?”
Byleth sighed.
“Y-you don’t have to answer if you—”
“I hadn’t expected her to reveal herself as the Flame Emperor in the Holy Tomb,” Byleth put down the glass of water she had been drinking, but didn’t look at Dimitri in the eye. “I only had a moment to understand that she had been an accessory in all of the terrible things that had happened in Garreg Mach.”
“So then why—?!”
“Rhea told me to kill her. And I didn’t want to lose anybody else.”
Dimitri wanted to argue against that—that someone who had willingly and consciously chosen to ally themselves to those that would kidnap people, cause an incident like Remire, and stab Jeralt in the back was simply not worth a shred of pity. But even if he knew that his arguments would be logical, he also knew that this sort of decision wasn’t only based on pure logic. If he had been given that choice, would he have chosen to kill the girl that once been his friend? Or, would he have tried to protect her from the divine fury of the Goddess’s envoy?
“El said she needed a war,” Byleth continued. “But… I had honestly hoped that with the strike of Garreg Mach, the war would’ve been over quickly.”
Dimitri couldn’t hold back his scoff before drinking from his glass of water.
“I know,” Byleth grumbled. “I know. It’s been five years. But if I hadn’t fallen… if I had been there, perhaps I could have stopped El from her single minded—”
“You couldn’t have.” Dimitri shook his head. “El has always been stubborn. Even as a child.”
Byleth raised her head and looked at him with an utterly stupefied look.
“She didn’t tell you?” Dimitri asked.
Byleth shook her head.
Dimitri had to admit: it stung that he hadn’t come up at all. “I see. Edelgard and her uncle, Lord Arundel, came to the capital a few years back to escape political turmoil in Enbarr. Then, we became friends.”
Or so he had thought.
Perhaps Dimitri had just assumed that their friendship was more personal than it ever truly was. It seemed that he had a tendency to misunderstand how deep his relationships went. When he had first heard that the professor had left with Edelgard, he didn’t want to believe it. Because he had thought that perhaps, she would have felt too betrayed by Edelgard to even consider it. That she wouldn’t have turned her backs on everybody else to walk with his stepsister. That she would have chosen him, instead.
“Don’t blame yourself,” Dimitri said. “I don’t think you would’ve been able to shake Edelgard from her path. Although, I didn’t realize just how hard your position was.”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t forgive myself as quickly as you are,” Byleth said. “You’re too soft to be a king.”
“Then I suppose it’s a good thing that I’m married to such a strategist,” he smiled, putting his empty glass on the bedside table. “I hope you’ll be able to guide me and hold back my softhearted ideals whenever it's needed.”
“No, that’s…” Byleth pursed her lips as she tried to think of what she was going to say. “It’s not a bad thing. Being soft. It’s better to have feelings, and to care for people, rather than just being…”
Dimitri guessed the unspoken words at the end of her sentence. “An ashen demon?”
Byleth bit her lip, and nodded.
“If I may be frank,” Dimitri looked down at his hands—well, at Byleth’s hands. They were just as bloodstained as his own. Perhaps even more. “When I first met you, I had been unnerved by how you didn’t seem to react to anybody nor anything. But when I was about to decide that perhaps you were too unfeeling for me to ever truly trust you… you dove right in front of Edelgard and parried that bandit. It was a risky move. You could have died. And yet, you didn’t even hesitate to protect someone that you hadn’t ever met before.”
His voice lowered to a whisper.
“I think that was when I first started to…”
To what? Hold her in high esteem? To admire her? Dimitri tried to think of reasonable answers to that question. But the truth of the matter was simple. As irrational, illogical and silly it was… that had been the point when he found himself utterly captivated by her.
“Dimitri…” Byleth’s eyes connected with his.
The intensity with which she looked at him made him shudder.
Or perhaps, it had been the unexpected proximity they had between each other. Although Dimitri knew he was technically only looking at himself, there was an undeniable part of him that knew who was the person he was connecting with as their eyes met.
“Ever since I woke up,” Byleth said, “I’ve only seen how much I’ve hurt all of the people I left behind. I can’t… I can’t turn back the clock five years. Trust me, I’ve tried.”
Byleth’s smile turned bittersweet.
“But at the very least, I can try to make it up to you, in any way I can. It won’t make the five years of loneliness and heartache go away but… Dimitri, I— I have something to confess, too.”
“What is it?”
“I chose to lead the Black Eagles because I was confused about the strange and unfamiliar way I felt when I was around you.”
When she reached out to grasp his hand, Dimitri’s breath hitched. But he couldn’t turn away from her. The way she looked at him was as if he were wonderful and special. As if out of all the people in the world, he was the most precious she had ever seen.
“I thought I hated you,” Byleth continued, stroking his hand with her thumb. “But, that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m just grateful that I didn’t have to find this out after either one of us had died on the battlefield.”
“Byleth, I—”
“I love you,” She whispered, her lips but an inch away from him.
Her timing had been perfect, really, because he was about to lose his nerve to just name the feeling that he had avoided to acknowledge for far too long. But now that he had heard it in his voice, he realized just how right it sounded to say it.
“I love you too,” he sighed in relief. Then, he leaned forward to meet her halfway.
When the spell had first switched them around, it had been confusing and a little scary. Dimitri had half-expected to have been struck by some sort of dark magic he had never known and would soon perish. But when the spell returned them back, it had felt like a warm tingling all through their shared bodies.
When they opened their eyes, they didn’t need to say anything else. Both knew what returning to their original bodies meant. So they allowed themselves to draw back to each other and share another kiss.
...
...
“Here you are,” Edelgard said as she walked into the room. “Lady Rhe— I mean… Lady Seiros?”
“Please, just call me Rhea,” Rhea sighed, and looked out the window at the rising dawn. “I’m not the Archbishop anymore. And… I haven’t used the name Seiros in so long, it just doesn’t feel like me now.”
Edelgard nodded. She pulled out the Caduceus from behind her as a million thoughts ran through her mind. How could she even begin to express what she wanted to say? Having grown up in the Imperial Court, Edelgard had always been surrounded by Fódlan’s most brilliant minds. She had learned to out-wit scholars and courtesans alike in debates, to wield her words with the elegance and deadliness of a fencer wielding a rapier.
But now, all of those experiences wouldn’t help. She didn’t want to fight nor debate with Rhea. She wanted to—
“I…” Rhea murmured. “I’m so sorry.”
“What for?” Edelgard asked, feeling a little humiliated that she had let go of her chance to be the one to initiate the conversation.
“After the War of Heroes, I was given the choice to completely wipe out the crested bloodlines. I had half a mind to go through with it. I hated all the thieves and bandits that stole my family from me. I wanted them all dead,” Rhea explained, bowing her head but not turning around to look at Edelgard. “But… I didn’t. I couldn’t. When I realized that the Ten Elites had their own children… The only way to truly be rid of crests from humanity was to kill them, too.”
Edelgard wondered what she would’ve done if she had been in that situation. A part of her felt that she would’ve killed them all without hesitation. The blight of crests should have been nipped at the bud, and all of the suffering derived from them would’ve been prevented. But another part of her disagreed, would have searched for another way without having to resort to death.
“I had a choice, whether to acknowledge crests or not… I could’ve waited for them to fade out into obscurity. But—” Rhea turned to look at her. Tears danced about her eyes. “I’m so sorry. If I had done something different… I tried to do the best I could, back then. Everything I did was to try to keep the peace.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Edelgard approached the window that Rhea was looking out of. The sky was dyed pink. “You acted in ways that you thought would keep the peace. I, on the other hand… My first recourse was to start a war. I was arrogant. Selfish, even. But you—although you had to shoulder your pain and loneliness for countless years, you never wanted to destroy everything to build from the ground up.”
It was stupid to try to preserve something that had started off the wrong foot. Sometimes, you must rip out the rotten foundations to replace them with better ones. Edelgard had been determined to burn everything in her path and start things off right. To make the razed and burnt ground of her conquest the fertile soil on which a much fairer one would rise.
But for the first time in twelve years, she came to realize how she had been the foolish one. Because even if she burned down everything in her path, all she would build after her war would have been built on a foundation of ashes and pain. People would have suffered in the long run, even if it hadn’t been her intention.
“If anything, I must be the one to apologize,” Edelgard said, looking right into Rhea’s eyes. “I was hurt by the world I was born in, and although I told myself I was going to put a stop to the suffering, in truth I only ended up hurting others and making them suffer. But you… you were hurt too. Instead of killing innocents, whose only sin was being born to the Ten Elites, you decided to end the cycle of revenge right then and there.”
“You praise me too highly,” Rhea smiled sadly. “Honestly, with every passing year, and the inevitable loss of my human friends… It became too painful to grow close to others. At some point, I just stopped trying to connect with others, because I feared losing them too much. And in turn, I was unable to see clearly how they were suffering in silence. I feared who I’d become if I allowed myself to get close to people.”
Somehow, for some reason, Rhea’s words managed to get to the heart of one of Edelgard’s deepest fears. She never dared to get close to anybody in her class, or the other house leaders. Because she knew, deep down, that if she had gotten too attached to them, she would have lost the nerve to go through with her bloodstained path.
Edelgard hadn’t allowed herself to cry in so long; she had forgotten how messy and loud it could get. Tears, snot, and even drool got absolutely everywhere. And there was also the pathetic and undignified hiccups and sobs.
At least getting hugged by Rhea was nice. When Edelgard finished crying her fill, she had finally found the words she should have started the conversation with.
“I had my smiths fix up the Caduceus,” she held it out for her to take. “It’s perhaps not as good as new, but at the very least, it’s not broken anymore. I can only hope to mend things much like I have this staff. Now that we will soon attack our mutual enemies, I hope that we can forge together a new world, even if it’s not perfect.”
“Oh, Edelgard,” Rhea smiled, reaching to inspect the staff. “The Caduceus is better than perfect now.”
Edelgard wanted to ask what Rhea meant by that. But before she could, an overwhelming dizziness came upon her. But as suddenly as it had come, it had left.
“Did you feel it, too?” a voice that sounded almost like hers asked.
When Edelgard opened her eyes, it was almost as if she was looking at a mirror. Because she was looking at herself.
“Oh,” she said, with a voice that sounded like Rhea’s. “This is… Did we switch bodies?”
“Y-yes… it seems we have.”
Rhea-in-Edelgard’s body took a deep breath, and covered Edelgard’s burning face with her hands.