Chapter Text
The Ashen Girlkisser
Byleth was, to put it lightly, a strange girl.
Jeralt knew this, as did his fellow Blade Breakers. She was a girl of few (if any) words, more often than not responding to orders with a simple nod, if anything at all. He would never forget the first time she called him “Papa,” a moment that will forever exist as one of his most cherished. Of course, it was then followed by her pointing at a stick that she wanted, but he focused on the more important part of that interaction.
Her expressionless visage and simple demeanor had, at a time, given some of the less than trustworthy members of the Blade Breakers the idea that they could take advantage of her, though that was quickly stopped once a young Byleth, only eight at the time, snapped a grown man’s arm when he tried to take a breadroll from her tray. The fact that she simply stared him down as he screamed in agony, biting into her breadroll the entire time, helped to develop her reputation among the band as a strange kid.
No one could deny her effectiveness on the battlefield, though. Jeralt made sure to teach her how to defend herself from a young age, and she swiftly became an absolute powerhouse on the battlefield. More veteran Blade Breakers found themselves outmatched in spars, even when they outnumbered her. No matter the weapon, she approached each combat with surgical precision, and brutal efficiency. In very little time, her reputation quickly grew, and soon enough The Ashen Demon was well-known across the lands.
However, despite her effectiveness with weaponry, Jeralt still felt a pang of guilt whenever she’d see her sitting alone after a job well done. Whilst the rest of the Blade Breakers made merry in taverns or around the campfires, he’d often spy Byleth sitting away from the masses, focused on repairing her weaponry or eating quietly, observing them with that blank expression. He’d make sure to spend some time with her in those moments, or at least try to, but her reputation had effectively isolated her from the rest of the band. He was, and not for the first time in his life, at a loss for what to do.
I’d rather face a Demonic Beast. At least I know how to beat that.
“Papa.”
Jeralt shakes himself from his reminiscing, looking over to see Byleth staring at him. They were on the march to a little village in the Leicester Alliance, called Sauin. Apparently the village was having issues with poachers, and so the Blade Breakers were being hired to take care of the problem. From what he recalls, they shouldn’t be too far from the village.
“What is it, kiddo?” He asks, curious as to what she might say. Though she had become more talkative in comparison to her younger years, she was still more inclined to silence.
Byleth takes a few moments, looking around their warband, before looking back to Jeralt. “I found a book.”
Jeralt waits for a bit to see if she’s going to expand on that, before giving her a nod, “A book, eh? That’s nice.” The books were a new change with Byleth, something that she picked up after a job they took for some Adrestrian noble. Jeralt had brought Byleth along with him to talk about the contract, and she had wandered away at some point. He’d never admit that he panicked, but after searching for her throughout the estate, he came upon her reading with some of the maids, and from then on books joined Byleth’s shortlist of joys, along with weapons, fishing, and staring contests.
Sitri was definitely more of a reader than me…I can’t remember the last time I bothered with a book.
Byleth nods, and Jeralt gets the distinct impression that she’s pleased. “Yes.”
“What’s the book about?” He asks, figuring he’d at least give his best effort at possibly talking with Byleth about something that interested her enough to bring it up. Internally, he was glad to have spent the time making sure she could read and write. He knew Sitri would be proud to see her.
Byleth thinks for a few moments, staring straight ahead as they walk. Nothing out of the ordinary, Jeralt was used to her occasionally taking time to think of what to say…sometimes for minutes at a time in a conversation, like she had a list of possible responses just floating around her head to choose from.
Finally, she looks back, “Girls.”
Jeralt gives a tentative nod back, unsure how else to respond to such a vague answer. He wondered just what exactly that could mean. Was it a book about a girl? Was it one of those Faerghan tales of knights and princesses? Hell, it could have been a biography on a woman for all he knew. He was getting better at understanding Byleth’s short answers, but from time to time her meaning still eluded him.
Still, the little shine in Byleth’s eyes told him everything he needed to know about the book: It made her happy, and that was good enough for him. He reached over and patted her head, and she gave him a satisfied nod. Hell, it even looked like she started to crack a smile! Maybe.
“That’s great, kiddo.” Jeralt says with a smile, before looking back to the front. “Hopefully you can, uh, find more books like that.”
“Yeah.” Byleth replies, and they continue their trip to Sauin.
The rest of the trip to Sauin was uneventful, and Jeralt went to make contact with the village leader while Byleth stayed back to help set up their camp outside the village proper. She worked quietly, going around and assisting with others without asking after getting her own tent ready. The other mercenaries accepted her help, used to her unusual behavior by this point.
Once the camp was set up and fires were lit, Byleth took her fishing rod, gutting knife, and sword, and went out to the river nearby. She knew that it could take a while before Papa would be done with the negotiations, and figured it’d be a good time to get a bit of fishing in. She preferred fishing with Papa when she could, but fishing alone was fine too. It gave her lots of time to think in silence.
She casts her line into the river, and waits. It was nice, the calm that came with fishing. No need to talk, no need to think about what words to say. Her Papa didn’t have an issue with how she was, but she knew that other people didn’t like to talk to her much because she was ‘weird’. She knew she was different from other people, but everyone is different from everyone else, so isn’t everyone weird?
Ah, a bite.
A tug on the end of her line draws her attention away from her internal discussion, and she quickly hauled in the fish on the other end of her line, pulling up a sizeable Airmid Pike. She pulls out her fishing knife and ends its life quickly before gutting it with expert precision. So focused was she on her task that she didn’t realize someone was approaching, until she heard the snap of a twig behind her.
Turning around with her fishing knife at the ready, she saw a girl around her age. She had really orange hair, and similarly colored eyes. She was dressed like a villager, and Byleth assumed that that’s where she came from. She didn’t look old enough to be a poacher, though she knew that looks could be deceiving.
“Who’re you?” The girl asked, crossing her arms as she stared her down. She was trying to be intimidating, but Byleth just stared back. Eventually, after several long minutes of silently staring at each other, the other girl looked away. Byleth quietly pumped her fist, and mentally marked down her eighty-sixth consecutive staring contest win.
“Byleth.” She replied, tossing away the fish innards before beginning the scaling process. She didn’t enjoy scaling fish very much, since the little scales were a hassle to get out from under her nails if she wasn’t careful.
“Byleth? You’re not from the village, then.” The girl says, moving closer with a pose that said ‘I’m big and tough’, despite being kinda scrawny and a few inches smaller than Byleth. She was confident about something, although Byleth wasn’t sure what about. “What are you doing out here?”
“Fishing.” Byleth answered, glad that she was being given easy questions, things that didn’t require much thinking and only took one word.
“I can see that!” The other girl exclaims, seeming frustrated. Why was she frustrated? If she knew what Byleth was doing, why did she ask? “ Why are you here?”
Byleth knew this question would require more than a one word answer, although she could just say ‘work’ and that wouldn’t be wrong. “I’m with the Blade Breakers.” Byleth answered, finishing up with the fish and hanging it on a line to bring back.
“Oh yeah?” The orange haired girl replies, seeming to find what Byleth said hard to believe…for some reason. “You don’t look like a fighter. Too young. What do you do, laundry?”
Byleth wasn’t sure why she didn’t think she was a mercenary, but she simply shakes her head in response. The girl continues looking at her, seeming to wait for something…oh, words.
“No.” Byleth answers, then decides to add more detail because she had a feeling that wasn’t enough. “I fight.”
The girl started laughing, which confused Byleth because she was pretty sure she wasn’t making a joke. Was she? Should she laugh too? How?
“Yeah, right! There’s no way a kid like you is fighting with them!” The orange girl says, in a tone that makes Byleth furrow her brow just slightly. She was probably older than the orange girl to begin with. Also, her fish was starting to get a bit sweaty in the sun.
The stranger continued, seemingly unaware of Byleth’s irritation. “I’ll have you know that The Blade Breaker said that he’d take me on as an apprentice, after I showed him my spear skills!” She says proudly, and Byleth…isn’t sure how to answer. Was that a special thing? Papa trained her how to use every weapon, and she didn’t even have to prove herself.
“Tell you what, let’s spar!” The strange girl says, pointing at Byleth. “I wanna see if you’re telling the truth! Five gold says I knock you down!”
Byleth looks down at the fish in her hands, and gives a slight frown as she sets it aside. She has a feeling that the orange girl isn’t going to let her leave if she doesn’t fight her. The girl was grabbing a wooden training spear off her back, and while Byleth had her trusty sword with her, she didn’t want to risk using an actual weapon on the girl. So, after setting the fish down next to her rod, she raises her fists.
The orange girl, her training spear ready, guffaws (Byleth was quite proud at knowing that word, it came from her books), obviously finding something amusing. “You’re not going to use a weapon at all?! You must be-”
Byleth doesn’t give her the chance to finish her sentence, and before the girl can ready up, she swiftly closes the distance and sweeps her leg behind the girl before slamming her palm into her chest and knocking her to the ground.
The girl groans as she lies in the grass, and Byleth looks at her hand where she had thrown the girl down. She looked at the girl’s chest, then down to hers, and then to her hand.
Soft.
“That- cough - wasn’t fair…” The girl on the ground moans, struggling to stand back up using the help of her spear. She starts getting back into position, wiping the grass off the back of her legs. Byleth looks away from her hand as she hears a cry of rage, and looks up just in time to see the girl coming in with her spear.
With ease, Byleth sidesteps her lunge and grabs the spear before yanking it out of her grasp and sending the girl back to the ground. After tossing the weapon aside, Byleth strides over and straddles the girl’s chest to keep her from standing back up, looking down at her with her usual passivity.
“I win.” Byleth says simply as Orange (Byleth decides to call her that since she still hasn’t mentioned her name) struggles to try and get her off. Eventually, Orange gives up and lays back, huffing in irritation.
“Fine, whatever, you win.” She grumbles, muttering about Byleth ‘cheating’, although Byleth’s not sure how she’d cheat in a spar. She didn’t even throw sand in her eyes. “You’ll get your gold.”
Byleth had honestly forgotten the gold by this point, and though her Papa would probably shake his head to hear, she didn’t really want it either. She had more than enough from the contracts, and the girl looked like she could use it more than she could. She shakes her head at the girl, though this seems to only make her more upset for some reason?
“No! I challenged you, and you won, so you get your prize!” Orange exclaims, pouting as she looks up at her. Byleth wasn’t sure why she was so upset, honestly. Wouldn’t she be happy she gets to keep her money?
As Byleth pondered a way to get out of this without taking Orange’s money, figuring that the village girl wouldn’t have any books that she’d want. At the thought of books, however, she recalled something from one of her books. She remembered a scene where a knight refused gold for rescuing a princess, and instead asked for a kiss. And that would have been a lot more money than five gold probably, so it should work in this case too.
Byleth was sure Papa would call her a genius for coming up with that.
“Okay.” Byleth says, before placing her hands on the ground beside the girl’s head. Orange stops her whining for the moment, a look of confusion on her face.
“What are you doing?” She asks, as Byleth stares into her eyes.
“I don’t want your gold,” Byleth begins, slowly leaning in towards Orange. The girl watches as Byleth leans in, and once she realizes what Byleth is doing, her face turns crimson.
“But I’ll take a kiss.” She finishes, doing her best to quote the line from the book she read, and she closes the distance between them.
Byleth had seen a lot of kissing, mainly from mercenaries and the girls or guys they’d find around taverns (Papa always said to stay away from them, but they seemed pretty nice), and sometimes between the mercenaries when they weren’t in the middle of a job. She had read about a lot of kissing in her books, especially in the ones that other mercenaries would give her as thanks for helping them out with something. She always made sure to hide those ones from Papa, because the mercenaries that gave her those books always said to keep them secret.
But, thinking about how this kiss felt, the first thing she noticed was how soft Orange felt. Also the smell of sweat and dirt, but that’s what most of the people around her smelled like normally, so it didn’t matter all that much.
The second thing she noticed, or more realized, was that she wasn’t sure how long she should kiss Orange. One second felt too short, but ten felt way too long…so she decided five. One second for each gold that Orange wagered. That felt reasonable.
Lastly, she noticed that Orange had closed her eyes at some point, and Byleth followed along. She remembered seeing that before, though she wondered why you’d close your eyes if you were kissing someone. Don’t you want to see them?
Oh, that’s five seconds.
Byleth abruptly pulls back from the kiss and stands up, leaving Orange looking dazed and confused for a moment before she follows suit. Her face was a bright red, and she opened and closed her mouth several times trying to say something before grabbing her training spear and hurrying away. Byleth watches her leave back into the woods, before shrugging and grabbing her fish.
Maybe we can roast this tonight.
Later that evening, Jeralt returns to the camp to find Byleth roasting a pike over the fire. A soft smile on his face, he comes over and pats her on the head before sitting down next to her.
“Good catch, kiddo,” He says proudly, earning a nod from her as she continues cooking the fish. They sit in silence for a while, giving him time to think of what exactly the battleplan is going to look like for getting rid of those poachers. Probably have to sweep the forests in groups, set up call signs and communications…
“Papa.”
Jeralt immediately looks over to his daughter, mildly surprised to see her staring dead at him. “Yeah? What’s on your mind, kiddo?”
He watches as she takes the fish off the stick and portions some out for him and the vast majority for her. He knew she was a growing girl, but the amount that she could put away had caused concern for their ration supplies on more than one occasion. Having her hunt and fish was definitely a necessity more than an option.
“Girls are soft.” Byleth states with a simple nod, before beginning to chow down on the roast fish. Jeralt stares at her for a few moments, the gears in his head ticking along to try and decipher the what and why for her statement…but knowing that he’s not going to get much out of her at the moment, he simply nods and shoves a bit of fish into his mouth.
“Yeah, kid. Girls are soft.”
Meanwhile, in the village of Sauin, an orange haired girl lays on her bed, clutching a pillow to her chest and ruminating about what had happened earlier that day. She’s upset, angry, embarrassed…but there’s something else there that she just can’t put her finger on.
She reaches up and touches her lips for a moment, thinking about how soft that blue haired weirdo felt, before burying her face back into her pillow and groaning.
She stole my first kiss! She beat me up and stole my first kiss! Who the hell does that?! Byleth, you…girlkisser! You girlkisser weirdo!
Fuming, she makes a vow to train harder than ever so that the next time she sees Byleth, she’ll make her pay for stealing her first kiss. And as she slowly drifts off to sleep, stewing in her indignity, one realization creeps into her mind.
Why did I kiss her back!