Chapter Text
Rain pattered in a soothing rhythm on the windowsill of the large bay window in the Imperial bedchamber that overlooked the lush palace gardens. The sun had only just risen in the sky on this rainy spring morning, but its rays were hidden behind the numerous rain clouds filling the sky. It was the kind of weather that made one want to relax all day in bed with a good book and a steaming cup of tea.
Today, however, Byleth Eisner had to start getting ready for work.
The problem was that she was far too comfortable in bed. The rain was making her want to go back to sleep. She was curled up on her side in the arms of her wife, Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg, who was still sleeping soundly. There was at least time to still lay about as Byleth tended to be an early riser (a habit formed a lifetime ago when she worked as a mercenary with her father).
Edelgard would undoubtedly rise from her slumber soon. Byleth didn ’t keep up with all the daily ins and outs of the emperor’s schedule, but it was typically filled to the brim from sun up til sundown. Sometimes El worked even later than that, but Byleth had many ways of persuading her wife to not stay up burning the midnight oil. The former mercenary knew her wife might be somewhat cross with her if she let her sleep in any longer, but Byleth couldn’t help it. Edelgard looked so cute when she was sleeping. Surely if she explained that, El would understand.
Byleth yawned and carefully extracted herself from her wife ’s warm embrace, sliding her feet onto the wooden floor. She stood, stretching her arms and neck. Stiffness had settled in while she slept, which was happening more often lately. A side effect of aging. Not that she was that old or anything (she thinks, but she still doesn’t actually know her exact age, with sleeping for five years who could really be certain), but going through a war tends to put a lot of stress on the body that showed itself today in various minor aches and pains. Additionally, she no longer possessed the Crest of Flames, or any crest at all. Her connection to the goddess had been severed in the aftermath of their battle in Fhirdiad against the Immaculate One. Byleth was simply, blessedly human.
Four years had passed since the end of the War of Unification.
Byleth had proposed in the immediate aftermath. After, in all effects, dying, for a third time, she knew that she didn ’t want to wait any longer to make her deep feelings for the emperor known.
The two had wed a year later under the Garland Moon. It had been a small, intimate ceremony with all of their friends in attendance. It was the happiest day of her life thus far at that point, and together with Edelgard, she had many subsequent happiest days after that. Her heart leapt when she thought about future happiest days to come by her wife
’s side.
As her thoughts returned to the emperor, Byleth turned back around to look at her still asleep in bed. Edelgard’s gleaming white hair was fanned out over the pillow she was lying on, and her face was at peace. She was so beautiful. Byleth could get lost gazing at her wife resting like this. She wished that she had the same talents as El or Bernadetta to be able to capture moments like this one.
After the War of Unification, a second war had been waged in the shadows against those who slither in the dark. The Empire had thoroughly routed their forces through mostly covert means, putting an end to the terrors they inflicted upon humanity. Byleth would swear Edelgard started sleeping more soundly in the aftermath. Gone were most of the nights filled with nightmares and insomnia. For years, they both would often be startled awake by one another in the dead of night. It was always a comfort to at least now have each other for comfort, to draw near under the covers, to be held tightly.
Trying to be stealthy as to not wake Edelgard, Byleth went and picked up an armored bear stuffie that had fallen off the bed and onto the floor during the night. She then placed it gently in Edelgard ’s arms. Edelgard shifted in her sleep at feeling the fabric of the bear and wrapped her arms around it. Cute.
Shuffling over to their shared wardrobe, Byleth pulled out an outfit and changed out of her nightclothes for the day ahead. She favored simple, breathable fabrics most days, especially days where she was working. She pulled on her usual workday outfit of a red tunic and black fitted pants after tossing her nightclothes in a basket for the palace staff to wash later. That was something she thought she might never get used to, having staff to perform daily chores for her. It wasn ’t something that she minded, it was just so… different from how she had lived her life in the past.
After the war, there had been some external pressure for her to get involved with politics due to her impact as a general in the war and her former ties to the Church. After she wed the emperor, the pressure had grown. But politics had never been something that she liked, or really even understood.
Before coming to Garreg Mach all those years ago, she was ignorant of the political landscape of Fodlan. She was more aware now, and Edelgard had done her best to get her up to speed before becoming the empress, but she gracefully declined taking on an active role in Fodlan ’s new government.
Instead, Byleth had elected to take on a teaching position at Enbarr ’s Academy for the Military Arts. She was a combat instructor. Enrollment was less than in previous years, but there was still a need for capable soldiers and officers to maintain the land’s newfound peace. Teaching was something that she truly enjoyed. Being able to shape and influence others, demonstrating her skills and offering tips and advice to her students, made her feel like she had a purpose. Like she was more than just a weapon. It also brought up fond memories she had from her time spent teaching at Garreg Mach.
Byleth slipped on her familiar ashen grey jacket, pulling strands of indigo hair out from under the collar. She ’d first slip down to the kitchens to grab something to eat, but she wanted to get going. She had some papers to look over and grade sitting on her desk at the academy that she wanted to work on before classes started today.
She supposed that she should wake up Edelgard before she left. Undoubtedly Hubert, her ever-loyal retainer and Minister of the Imperial Household, would be by soon with Edelgard ’s schedule for the day.
One day in the quickly approaching future, they would abdicate the throne. Byleth wistfully let out a sigh as she thought about that future. She wanted it most of all for her incredible, hardworking El who couldn ’t bear to even take a single morning off from being emperor. And Byleth understood the duty that Edelgard had to her country, the burning fire inside of her that continued to drive her as she made sweeping reforms to the continent.
Long nights had been spent by the pair planning for this: wide awake, talking and dreaming of lazy days in a countryside cottage filled with sweets and spending days idling. While they waited to get there, a system was being put in place for a shift in government when they stepped down. There would be no more royals, instead, a prime minister would rule with a cabinet of officials who hailed from all corners of Fodlan from all walks of life. Educational reforms were put into place at Ferdinand ’s behest several years ago, and literacy rates among the populace had been steadily rising since then. Mentorship programs had been established to train citizens in everything from farming to overseeing territory. This world they were building was not perfect, but they could see the progress being made.
Byleth turned to gaze at Edelgard ’s sleeping face. The emperor looked so soft and at peace— it made Byleth hesitate in waking her up, not wanting to disturb her wife’s much-needed rest. She bit her lip, undecided on what course of action to take here. Edelgard might be cross if she let her sleep in, but they had been up rather late the night before. In the end, she decided that she would let her beloved sleep in today, even if it wouldn’t be long before the emperor was called to duty. Byleth took a step forward closer to their bed with intentions of lightly brushing a hand across Edelgard’s soft cheeks and leaving a “see you soon, I love you,” gentle parting kiss on her forehead before pulling away and going on in her day.
However, her plans of letting Edelgard sleep in didn ’t last long. Byleth could feel Edelgard’s eyelashes fluttering below her as she pulled away from her kiss. The emperor stirred, violet eyes slowly opening as a lazy smile grew on her face, making Byleth’s heart feel like it skipped a beat in her chest. Edelgard reached out a hand to cup Byleth’s cheek. “Leaving already, love?”
Byleth pouted, perching herself on the edge of their bed. Edelgard pulled herself up to sitting, wrapping a blanket her shoulders to protect from the morning chill. Days were getting warmer in Enbarr as they left winter behind, but mornings still required a fire to be lit indoors or a jacket to be worn. The chilled rain falling outside did not help matters. Edelgard then draped herself tightly around Byleth, resting her head on the professor ’s shoulder and clutching her body close. Their shared body heat would be enough warmth for Edelgard, who was only wearing a silk shift night dress, until Byleth eventually untangled herself to light a fire before she left.
“Yes, but you’re not making it easy, El,” she said as she leaned back into Edelgard’s arms. Edelgard laughed and began kissing a path from Byleth’s shoulder up her neck. Byleth shivered as Edelgard kissed the shell of her ear, the feeling of her breath on Byleth’s ear made warmth spread through her body. Byleth twisted her torso around and pulled her wife into her lap before capturing her lips with her own. Edelgard readily met her lips, kissing her back breathlessly while she gripped tightly to Byleth’s back. Byleth continued to chase Edelgard’s lips, hungrily leaning into her wife’s lips and pulling her flush against her. She could feel El’s heartbeat as she started to lay her wife down on the bed to have a better angle for more adventurous kissing.
Before Edelgard ’s head hit the pillow, they heard the sound of a knock on the doors to their chambers. “Your Majesty? The ambassador from Morfis is expecting to meet with you in an hour.”
Edelgard sighed deeply, falling fully down onto the bed and stretching her arms out toward the ceiling. “Thank you, Hubert. I will be down soon,” she called out to the door while making a disgruntled face at Byleth who shrugged in response.
“I should probably go,” Byleth said as Edelgard pulled at her arm in an attempt to bring her down onto the bed with her. Edelgard pouted as Byleth started to stand up. It was so cute when El got like this. Her petulance was adorable, and Byleth really did wish that she could just lay here in bed all day at Edelgard’s side. Edelgard would play like she was cross at Byleth for not staying behind and staying in bed with her all day, but Byleth knew that the second she shut the door behind her, El would turn into Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg: all sharp angles and authority. If Byleth did crawl back in bed with her, El would only feel guilt over not actually being able to stay. “Don’t pout, my love. You know I just think it’s irresistibly cute when you pout.”
Edelgard crossed her arms and glared at Byleth in response. After all this time, Edelgard still took offense to being called “cute”. And after all this time, Byleth couldn’t resist teasing her beloved wife. Byleth leaned down to kiss Edelgard’s forehead, her lips lingering a moment too long as she inhaled El’s scent. As Byleth pulled away, Edelgard let out a content sigh and looked at her with eyes that made Byleth positively melt inside. The love she saw there was more than she deserved, more than she ever even knew could exist. Sometimes when Edelgard looked at her with her eyes filled with so much love, Byleth wanted to just melt into her, to be forever close— almost to be merged as one.
“I’ll be back in time for supper this evening, my love,” Byleth said, taking a small step backwards towards the bedroom door. Edelgard hummed and nodded, a small smile still present on her lips. She did not look away as Byleth slowly walked out, as if trying to drink in her form as long as possible.
It was these moments in between politics, work, and responsibilities that Byleth held close to her now-beating heart. Byleth had the thought as she closed the bedroom door behind her that she and Edelgard were more than just content: they were happy.
Suddenly, the world stopped and shattered around her. The rain pouring down outside the window had frozen mid-air; all was silent and the hall was cast in a dim lavender light. The only thing that Byleth could hear was the sound of her heart pounding in her ears.
Byleth ’s eyes widened in surprise. This was just like when she used to freeze time on the battlefield, only— she hadn’t done this. In fact, she hadn’t been able to manipulate the strands of time since that final battle in Fhirdiad and that was years ago. The crest stone in her heart had shattered when Rhea was defeated, and with it, all her goddess-given powers had vanished. She was blessedly, simply, human now, or so she had thought.
She blinked, and all of a sudden she was no longer standing outside the bedroom she shared with El. Morning birdsong filled her ears along with the distant noise of people moving around and talking. Church bells were ringing in the distance signaling the early hour of the day. Time ’s flow had resumed once more. Byleth took notice of her surroundings: she was lying down in a small twin-sized bed in a distantly familiar room. Her well-worn grey jacket was draped over a wooden chair placed next to her steel claymore sword by the door. Across from the bed she was now sitting up in, there was a vaguely recognizable painting of an eagle flying over a grand castle. She’d seen it before, years ago. She was at an in in Adrestria— in Remire, at the base of the southwestern Ohgma mountains.
She had not been back to Remire since the month before Jeralt was killed. This realization turned her stomach, and in the next instant she pulled a wastebasket over to the side of her bed and promptly emptied the contents of her stomach. Moments later, there was rough knocking on the other side of her bedroom door, with a voice following soon after.
“Hey kid, everything all right in there?” It was Jeralt.
Her stomach lurched again, stomach acid creeping and burning up the back of her throat. She never thought she would hear that voice again. Almost a decade had passed since Jeralt had been killed, felled by Kronya ’s twisted blade. Her mind was filled with questions. What happened? When was this? Why did this happen? How did this happen? What about Edelgard, was she—
Byleth tightly shut her eyes. This must just be a dream. After the war she was often beset by wild dreams, sometimes they even turned into nightmares. That had to be all this was.
A fist knocked twice on the door. “Kid? You better get up, we’re leaving soon for that job in the Kingdom. Time to get moving.”
Byleth mumbled out an assent that was enough for Jeralt to leave her be. Meanwhile she tried to catch her bearings, to calibrate. This felt a lot more real than her usual dreams. She decided that she ’d play along for now and go through the motions of this familiar day. She was bound to wake up from this dream soon, right?
That was when she noticed it: her heart was silent; motionless in her chest. She flew out of bed, yanking her tangled limbs out of twisted up sheets. Her hand flew to her chest, trying to feel the steady rhythm she ’d grown used to feeling over the past four years.
It had been a hindrance, at first, having a heartbeat. It was distracting and sped up at the most inconvenient times, usually when in close proximity to El. But she had grown to appreciate it, welcoming its steady beat in her chest when she ’d lie awake at night with Edelgard’s head on her chest. It was a reminder that she was alive, that she was human. Of all that they’d fought for, of all she’d gained. Edelgard would often lay her head on Byleth’s chest when they were alone together just to listen to Byleth’s heart beating. She frequently said that it was her favorite sound in the world.
Now there was just a resounding empty feeling within her chest. Her heart had grown still once more. ‘Please, please let this be only a dream,’ Byleth pleaded, looking up at the ceiling in a way she’d never felt the need to do before.
If this was all just a dream, at least she ’d get to see her father. Byleth frequently had dreams and sometimes nightmares of the war. Visions of friends dying, of Jeralt’s last moments watching her cry on the monastery grounds moments before he died, and ones of her being unable to save Edelgard from death. The latter ones haunted her long after waking. But despite her active dream life in the present, she seldom dreamt of the years she spent on the road growing up with her father. That part of her life was dim. Back then, she was more weapon than person.
The thought of seeing Jeralt took a little bit of the weight and panic off her chest. So she quickly got dressed and ready for the day, taking some steadying deep breaths, and went downstairs to meet Jeralt.
“There you are, kid. I was starting to get worried. Bad dreams keeping you up?” Jeralt asked as he noticed Byleth coming down the stairs.
“Something like that,” she answered. Tilting her head to the side, Byleth tried to drink in the site of her dad and commit it firmly to memory. He looked just as she remembered: tall and broad, his scraggly blond hair pulled back in a tight braid. Before she realized what she was doing, she enveloped him in a tight hug.
“I missed you, dad,” she mumbled into his chest, trying to keep her voice steady and emotion-free. As she pulled away she realized that had been a wasted effort as she hadn’t noticed she’d been crying into his shirt that entire time.
Jeralt stiffened with surprise as he took in the water stain on his shirt, but then let his shoulders slump and relaxed as he laughed heartily, wrapping an arm around Byleth. “What’s got into you? Never thought you were much for hugs.”
Byleth just shook her head and breathed in his familiar scent. It was comforting. She had really missed him so, so much.
After several moments with her head buried in his chest, she relented and released him from the hug. If this was the day she thought it was, then one of Jeralt ’s mercenaries should be alerting them any minute now to the presence of the three House Leaders being chased by bandits. Seeing a younger version of Edelgard and Claude, and seeing Dimitri alive and well again would be a strange experience for Byleth. So much time had passed since they all had first met. So much had happened— and Dimitri had been put to rest years ago during the war. Byleth supposed that seeing him alive again wouldn’t be that strange after seeing Jeralt. Even if this was just a dream. She was still feeling very disoriented and hadn’t settled on if all of this were a figment of her sleeping imagination or if she’d truly been sent back in time. And if it were the latter: why?
She waited while Jeralt got ready for the journey to the Kingdom that previously never happened. Her belongings were already tucked away; she had always traveled light. An hour passed with Byleth doing her best to hide her anxiety from her father ’s company, which turned out to be easier than expected. They all kept several meters of distance away from her while doing their early morning activities, avoiding ever making eye contact.
A familiar feeling of isolation washed over her as she helped to load gear into the convoy. Her chest felt tight and shoulders heavy. She hadn ’t been present in this other, potential dream world for very long but the loneliness that enshrouded her here made her heart deeply ache for home.
In Enbarr, she was General Byleth Eisner-Hresvelg, Empress of Adrestria, professor at Enbarr ’s Academy for the Military Arts, wife of El, friend to the former Black Eagles and a host of others that she had met both while teaching and during her many political duties to Adrestria. Here, she was the Ashen Demon: a cold, ruthless, emotionless killer that was feared by anyone who had heard of her reputation.
Jeralt was a comfort, of course. But as things stood now, this was her father before he had ever seen her interacting with her students, before he caught her hiding a blush after having tea with Edelgard, before he had seen her weep by his side during the last moments of his life. He had always tried to shield her from hearing gossip full of fear and scorn about herself that seasoned members of his mercenary group would share with newcomers over an evening fire but was unable to shield her from all of it.
Byleth recalled a moment from many years ago when she was twelve, maybe thirteen years old (she truly had never been certain of her age). At that point she was an experienced mercenary. She ’d been deemed competent enough to join the band of mercenaries on most jobs, and Jeralt often would even assign new recruits to her to show them the ropes. Their group was in the middle of a journey west to Nuvelle and had stopped in an inn with a well-stocked bar in a small town at the edge of Varley territory for the night. Jeralt and many of the other mercenaries were drinking in the tavern downstairs while Byleth sat at the top of a staircase with her arms hugging her knees to her chest. She listened to the sounds of glasses clinking together and general merriment below and felt a strange hollow feeling in her chest. It didn’t bother her that she wasn’t old enough to be down there with everyone else— she’d always been able to entertain herself. It was the things she’d heard whispered about her after a battle with bandits earlier that day. Ruthless. Unnatural. Demon. They feared her and kept their distance.
They were talking about her again now downstairs, louder this time and Jeralt seemed to be too intoxicated to notice long enough to scold them. She ’d known what people said about her since she was eight years old running her sword through a troupe of bandits without breaking a sweat. Even Jeralt had a look in his eyes that day that had made her look away in shame.
That evening at the inn, after growing tired from hearing whispered gossip, she ’d quietly stood up and walked through the dimly lit hallway to the room she was sharing with Jeralt. There, she crawled onto the lumpy, unfamiliar bed and closed her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep. Before she drifted off, Byleth would swear she felt an unusual wetness building up in the corners of her closed eyelids.
Prior to meeting Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude all those years ago and becoming a professor at the Officer ’s Academy, she’d just been drifting through life; a ghost. Back then, Sothis had thought Byleth was being glib when she had claimed to be a ghost upon meeting. But really, back then, that label fit her better than ‘human’ ever did. She had found herself and her humanity hrough the connections she made at Garreg Mach. That day in Remire had been a pivotal turning point in her life. It had altered her entire life trajectory. Students and faculty may have been weary of her at first due to her reputation, but they had soon welcomed her with open arms— the Black Eagles especially. Students sought her advice and counsel, others would seek her out for training, and others would simply seek her company for tea or a meal in the dining hall. It was the first time she felt like she belonged.
Time passed by as Byleth was lost in her thoughts; Jeralt and the other mercenaries soon had the convoy all packed up.
The trio from Garreg Mach never appeared.
How strange, Byleth thought in a daze while riding on a horse beside her father several hours later. She felt lightheaded and was having trouble catching her breath— something she was trying to conceal from Jeralt. It wouldn ’t do to make him worry; he’d already seemed concerned by how she’d been acting today. Drawing her features into her familiar emotionless mask, she took a deep, steadying breath and righted her posture.
So this must be a dream after all. A dream in which she got to spend more time with Jeralt, one where they ’d never gone to Garreg Mach. One in which she did not meet Edelgard or the other lords that day in Remire Village.
Byleth balked at that, her stomach twisting.
A nightmare then, she conceded. But one she would undoubtedly wake from soon. Bad dreams always came to an end eventually, she reminded herself. When she woke she would be back in her familiar bed, held in El ’s arms while her wife would soothe her by gently running her fingers through her hair and whispering reassuring sweet nothings.
But the dream went on. Days turned to weeks and then months.
Jeralt ’s mercenaries and Byleth were still in Faerghus, having traveled there directly from Remire several months earlier. The Holy Nation was getting progressively colder as the months blurred by and their band of mercenaries flitted from job to job around the country. And as time passed, Byleth struggled to hold onto her initial belief that this was just an extended bad dream and not her current reality.
Every morning Byleth would expect to wake up in her too-soft, too-big bed, limbs tangled up with El, snuggled up close, skin to skin. Instead, she would open her eyes to find herself in a strange, too small beds in village inns or lying on the hard ground atop her bedroll in a hastily-made camp under a dark, cloudy sky.
It hurt so much to be apart from El. Byleth felt an aching void in her chest, and no amount of time spent swinging her sword seemed to do anything to fill it. She could tell that her father was concerned-- he ’d noticed she had changed, that she was undoubtedly depressed. He’d been awkward around her, tip-toeing around her sadness and looking at her with his eyebrows knit together with concern when he thought she wasn’t looking. And it was incredibly gratifying to be able to spend this extra time with him. It just didn’t feel… real. Byleth felt so detached. In her mind she was weightless and formless, going through the motions of job after job.
Sometimes she really would try to live in the moment, often joining Jeralt for his nightly round of drinks, the occasional spar, or country fishing excursion. It felt good to be spending time with her father again. Every so often she could tell that he was trying to figure out how to ask her what was wrong, but he seemed to think it was best to leave her be. She was grateful that he never asked— she did not feel ready to talk to him about it, and besides didn ’t have the first idea of where to start.
In the end it was only a distraction. It was as if the world had become less colorful for her— everything was dimmed. Even on sunny days she wanted to be inside with the shades drawn and covers pulled up.
Byleth felt listless, wandering from town to town, cutting down faceless enemies for coin. They all started blurring together in her mind as the band of mercenaries flitted from town to town across Fodlan. Her heart, unbeating as it was, was not in it. She tried to brush off her pain, lock it away somewhere deep inside to pull on the mask of the Ashen Demon, but it felt ill-fitting and misshapen. It was something she ’d grown out of and left behind as she had come alive through knowing Edelgard and the Black Eagles. She didn’t know how to be that person— demon— anymore.
There was so much blood, so many lives taken. She had once seen Fodlan change before her eyes following the war. The continent would never be a utopia, but it had really felt like they had found peace and it was disheartening to see Fodlan back in such disarray. To see it returned to being a place where which family you were born into and whether or not you had a crest mattered more than anything else.
She had to face reality. This was no dream. She ’d been sent back in time, but this obviously wasn’t the same world from whence she came. The hows and whys of it all were something she had yet to puzzle out. Fodlan was at peace. Those who slither in the dark were gone. So how did she get here, and why?
In her previous world, Sothis had woken up inside her when Byleth sacrificed herself to save a girl she had just met. Here, she never had the chance to leap in front of an axe to save her future wife and best friend. There had not been any appearances by SOthis in Byleth ’s recent dreams— none she remembered anyways as her vivid nightmares always stood out more. Byleth was certain that the crest stone still lied within her chest in this world, but Byleth had no real way of reaching out to Sothis to see if this was somehow caused by the goddess’ divine powers… or if the goddess was even capable of doing this.
Over the months spent on the road, Jeralt seemed happy that Byleth was moderately more engaged in interpersonal matters. However, Byleth could see from the wrinkle in his brow when he was looking at her that he was worried for her.
Jeralt had begun trying to broach the subject of her more outward expression of emotions and obvious depression on more than one occasion, but Byleth brushed him off each time, assuring him that she was fine before stalking off to train in solitude.
How was she supposed to tell him that everything was wrong, that she wasn ’t supposed to be here? Would he even believe her if she told him she’d lived out another life entirely? That she’d fought in a war and married an emperor? But it was getting to be harder and harder to keep her past from him as her grief and melancholia engulfed her more and more.
Today was yet another day in which Byleth didn ’t want to get out of bed. The sunlight pouring in the window of her room in this southern Faerghus village inn was far too bright.
The ache in her heart where Edelgard resided was feeling especially raw this morning. What was happening back home? Was time still frozen, or had life progressed on without her?
These were thoughts that Byleth didn ’t particularly want to be pondering, so she mustered up the strength to roll out of bed and get out of this dark and dusty room.
Byleth made it downstairs where she soon saw that Jeralt had already gotten a head start on the day ’s drinking at the bar with a handful of mercenaries and local women.
She sighed and shook her head before heading out into the bright sunlight before slipping inside the general store down the road from the inn that appeared to be in the middle of a lull. Byleth couldn ’t quiet her mind as she wandered around the quiet shop.
They were currently in Rowe territory in a small village not far from Arianrhod (a jarring place for Byleth to see still intact— she had to do a double take and hide her shock when they first passed it by earlier that week. She had previously seen the wreckage of the formerly impenetrable fortress after the war in “her Fodlan”, as she was now mentally calling it, was over and, well, there really wasn’t even much wreckage left behind amidst the smoke and still-smoldering ground).
It was getting colder here in the Kingdom— it had already snowed once a few weeks ago before they traveled to southern Faerghus. Everyone around her seemed to be drinking more lately to stave off the cold, though Byleth chose not to imbibe— she was worried about revealing something from her past before she was ready from drink loosening her tongue. She ’d learned years ago that was something she was prone to do—say things she normally would keep to herself— at her and Edelgard’s engagement party where she’d drank too much wine and spent much of the evening giving monologue about the color of Edelgard’s eyes to anyone who would listen before Edelgard, blushing furiously and looking very cute (which Byleth made sure to tell her fiance loudly, causing the emperor’s blush to deepen), ushered her to a secluded spot in the gardens with a glass of water that was promptly forgotten by the couple when Byleth pulled Edelgard in for a kiss.
Byleth found herself smiling to herself at the memory and shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. As she ambled along, looking at different odds and ends on the shop ’s shelves, she heard the shop door open and slam shut from the wind behind Ansel, one of the mercenaries in their company. Ansel noticed her as he looked around and nodded at her before turning his attention to the young shopkeeper at the counter who was already gazing dreamily up at him.
The red haired mercenary had a reputation in the company for being a chatterbox … and a flirt. His biting charm sometimes reminded Byleth of a certain Faerghan noble. He was someone who, like the rest of Jeralt’s mercenaries, generally kept his distance, but had been known to join Byleth fishing on some days off where she would often have to chastise him to stop scaring the fish with so much talking. But he was reliable, good with a lance, and didn’t seem to mind too much that he did the majority of the talking in their interactions.
As she aimlessly browsed, Byleth couldn ’t help overhearing the conversation between Ansel and the shopkeeper. They were exchanging gossip and news from different territories around Fodlan— in between flirting.
This was how they got their news most days, from little interactions with townsfolk from villages across Fodlan. Byleth typically would try to keep an ear out, to see if she could catch any news about any of her former students. She always hoped to hear … something about imperial troop movement, the western church, or even Garreg Mach.
She hadn ’t heard anything of interest yet which made her feel somewhat uneasy. It was long past the time that the unrest within the western church began or of Lord Lonato’s rebellion at Castle Gaspard, which made Byleth start to think that there may be a lot more differences between this world and her own than she initially thought.
The conversation between Ansel and the clerk had turned to discussing news from the Empire, and Byleth ’s ears perked up as she drifted through aisles and listened while pretending to shop.
In a tone that was both flirty and conveyed that she had more to say on that subject, the young, mousy shopkeeper mentioned a coup. It took Ansel a moment to process that information before he broke the tension by making an uncouth joke about staging a coup in the girl ’s bedroom, sending her into a fit of giggles. Byleth rolled her eyes.
The girl went on, saying in a rush that she ’d heard that the imperial princess had stormed the capitol city of Enbarr— accompanied by the Knights of Seiros!
A glass candle that Byleth had been surreptitiously inspecting dropped out of her hands upon hearing that and the glass shattered all over the dusty floor. The conversation stopped as Byleth swore loudly. She quickly reached with her mind for the still-familiar strings of time and pulled the moment back to right before she dropped the candle so that she would be able to listen for if the girl had anything else to say on the matter uninterrupted.
As time resumed, Byleth steadily set the candle back on the shelf and the shopkeeper shared the news of the coup and the same crude joke was made. She frowned as the conversation stalled and the sounds of lips smacking together could faintly be heard within the small store. It seemed that the pair had forgotten she was also in the store with them. Byleth softly cleared her throat as she rounded a corner and brought the (intact) candle and a packet of hard candies to the counter. Ansel and the girl pulled apart, both giggling and somewhat out of breath.
Byleth tilted her head curiously at the couple as the girl put Byleth ’s items in a small paper bag and gave the total amount owed.
“Do you know anything else about that coup in the Empire?” Byleth asked as she handed over coin.
“Damn, didn’t know you cared about political stuff like that. Your father certainly doesn’t,” Ansel said, brow raised.
Byleth hummed as she pocketed her change. “I care.” She turned back to the girl. “Well?”
The shopkeeper startled. Maybe she was being too blunt and unnerving again. Byleth tried to do her best approximation of a smile as she tilted her head and waited.
Seeming to accept Byleth ’s attempt at friendliness, she nodded and said: “Didn’t know you were listening, miss! Well, my brother was traveling through Aegir territory a few weeks back and went drinking with his friend who lives in Enbarr. He said all the Adrestrian nobles were real pissed at the princess… the lord regent even disappeared! Oh, and…” the girl looked sideways over to the door and lowered her voice as she leaned in. “Brother said the prime minister was killed… by his own son! Can you believe that?” The a girl looked up at Byleth expectantly for a reaction.
Byleth blinked, trying to process all of this. She opened her mouth to say something then closed it, shaking her head. She took the paper bag from the counter and walked to the door. Before opening the door, she paused and said “Yes. Yes, I can believe that. Oh, and, thanks.”
She heard the door thump closed behind her but paid it no mind. Byleth took off running back to the inn, intent on begging Jeralt to race to Enbarr immediately to find out more about what was going on.
Though once she got inside, she remembered that her father had gotten an early start on drinking today and would be in no state to have any sort of discussion about why his go-with-the-flow daughter had an urgent need to travel halfway across the continent to the capitol of Adrestria.
Byleth let out a noise of frustration, stomping her foot once in the dirt and putting her head in her hands as she came to a stop outside of the inn. She had so many burning questions about what was going on. She needed to get to Enbarr and see for herself what was happening. To help Edelgard and the rest of her students.
But … in this world, she and Edelgard had never met. And here, Ferdinand, Dorothea, Bernadetta, and the rest of the Black Eagles had never been her students. Would any of them somehow remember her? How was she supposed to help if when she once again saw her former students they looked at her and only saw a stranger?
Taking a deep steadying breath, Byleth returned to her room at the inn to sit down and think.
She remained in her room there for the rest of the day, alternating between staring up at the ceiling in bed and continuing to take deep breaths and pacing around the room as she tried to still her racing mind and come up with some semblance of a plan.
Before she fell asleep that night, the first steps she needed to take were cemented in her mind. Once Jeralt sobered up in the morning, Byleth would talk to him. She ’d lay all her cards out on the table and tell him everything. If he didn’t end up thinking that she had lost her mind, he would be able to help her come up with a plan of what to do next and then… they would set out for Enbarr.