Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

        At the end of the war, to say you were relieved was a grand understatement.

        Years of shedding blood and tears have finally come to a stop. In the back of your mind, it almost felt as though the maddening war would never come to an end. From the time Edelgard declared war on the church to the disappearance of Professor Byleth, you were struck with fear and despair. Having come from a small House on the edge of Faerghus, you didn't have many people to rely on besides your fellow Blue Lions. You couldn't return to your family as the war demanded the best and brightest mages, much to the sadness of your parents and older sibling.

        Even during your time on the battlefield, you were separated from a few of your companions. If you were paired with someone, you were often stuck focusing on how to win instead of confiding your stresses. Perhaps it would have been better if your best friend and the prince of Faerghus, Dimitri, hadn't disappeared so soon after Byleth's presumed death. No cut or wound was as painful as essentially losing your closest companion. You missed him and his comforting blue gaze that always made you feel at ease during the frequent nights insomnia attacked you. You missed him and his shy, hesitant caresses you pretended not to notice but would squeal about at back in your dorm. You missed the times where he would sneak away from Dedue so the two of you could chat or spar for a few fleeting moments. You missed him holding your hand in comfort whenever you confided in him.

        With the loneliness and misfortune plaguing your mind, it was no wonder the war lasted an eternity for you.

        The war ruined you. And it had ruined Dimitri.

        You had actually found Dimitri five years into the war, apparently a few months before Byleth rose from the "dead." The fighting had slowed down more than it had in the past few years, so you took some time off to reunite with your family before returning to the front lines once more. On the way there, you decided to make a quick trip to the monastery, wanting to reminisce and grieve about the precious memories you had made there; you didn't expect to see anyone familiar, or even anyone else besides bandits.

        Upon seeing his tall, disheveled form, clad with a cloak that could swallow you whole, you were initially terrified. Who was this large man with an eye patch ominously covering a part of his face? He was kneeling at pile of rubble in the chapel, and you had no idea if this man heard you approach the remains of this place.

        You sucked in a shaky breath, and the beast finally turned and stood to glance at you. Though you've battled different enemies, there was no one who intimidated you more than him. His long, blond hair was messy and stained with blood, and the black of his armor surely hid the crimson liquid that undoubtedly stained his attire. His eyes were piercing... and were so familiar. They were his eyes- except this time, they weren't offering you sympathy at one in the morning when you talked about how you couldn't sleep. This time, they were as cold as the Faerghus winter winds and as intense as Edelgard's scrutinizing gaze you had once seen on the battlefield two years into the war.

        "The Boar Prince," you could practically hear Felix scoff.

        And the once affectionate nickname had come to fruition- Dimitri looks... savage and animalistic. You knew the man was strong enough to break a spear in half in surprise, and you had no doubt he'd be able to destroy you with one hand now. You could hardly recognize his appearance- even loyal Dedue wasn't at his side. Your heart twisted in grief as you thought of what must have happened to your old friend.

        "Dimitri," you tested the name on your tongue- a name you haven't uttered in years. A stab of pain came to your heart when he barely acknowledged you.

        He walked past you, the sight of his form sending electricity up your spine. He had been muscular back when you were students, but his stance was commanding and powerful now, the promise of revenge swirling in his posture.

        "Leave," he demanded, his voice rough- as if he hadn't spoken in days.

        The sound of his voice made you weak. "Please," you begged, though you didn't know what you were even begging for. Your hand weakly grasped his upper arm, and you knew he's strong enough to shrug you off. He didn't, though.

        There was a pause. "I want to help." It was the absolute truth. You knew the past five years have broken him, and you wanted to be a beacon of light for him like he has been for you.

        "Bandits come at night. Leave before it gets tough," his words brought you an odd sense of comfort. You relished in the fact that he at least cared a little bit, but it didn't mitigate the pain of seeing someone you loved become so cold and vicious.

        You reached for his hand.

        He left before you can catch him.

        That night, you stayed in your old dorm, wiping away your tears with the back of your hands.

        Later, your parents had welcomed you back home with open and loving arms. They had your favorite meals, a warm bath, and soft clothes for you to wear after years of fighting. The warmth of House [Last Name] did nothing to ease the frostbite Dimitri left in your heart.

        Your mother mentioned a list of suitors that had been awaiting your return. There was hardly any room in your chest for another man, but she looked so happy to have you back, even for a brief moment. You didn't mention the blond boar that has carved his way into your heart even after years of neglect.The next few months were a good balance of training and leisure. It was enough to keep the war at bay, but you thought of the Blue Lions every day. How were they faring? Were some of them also visiting home in this brief stalemate?

        The first suitor reminded you of Sylvain- fun, flirty, and carefree. Unlike your flame-haired friend, this stranger was superficial and airheaded.

        The second suitor was quiet and well-behaved, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak to him for more than fifteen minutes on a normal day.

        The third was the most promising. He took your mind off of Dimitri, and you entertained the thought of marrying into this man's house after the war. Then he mentioned how Faerghus was better off without the Blaiddyd bloodline.

        You never met the fourth or fifth or sixth suitors. After writing your family a lengthy letter filled with love and promises to return, you set on your journey to return to the monastery to honor your late professor. It was almost time for the reunion the Blue Lions had agreed upon years ago.

        You didn't expect to see anyone else; the site was too dangerous to loiter in. To your surprise, seeing the aged and healthy faces of your beloved allies was a joy in itself. Even Dimitri was there, but you had a feeling he never really left the monastery. Professor Byleth had come back as well- not from the dead, but from a long slumber. It took everything you had to not sob into his chest to see your former educator come fill you with hope. It filled you with nostalgia when you all decided to make this your base to reclaim the past and stop Edelgard's war. It felt almost like a lie. You wanted to pretend you were pursuing higher education like many nobles did or pretend you were attending a training camp, but the war continued to loom in everyone's thoughts.

        Months went by.

        You trained with Annette and Felix on a daily basis to raise your Reason levels, pretending not to notice the glances and small smiles they exchange. They had always liked each other in their school days, after all. Dimitri had closed himself off from what used to be the Blue Lions. He refused to speak with anyone and was gone most of the time to pile up corpses or stay at the chapel. Every time you tried to exchange a few words with him or give him some food to eat, he ignored you. No master how much you tried, he refused to even look at you.

        You would reach for his hand, but he would ignore your gesture.

        It hurt.

        At one point, Byleth stopped you from visiting Dimitri, noticing your will getting weaker. "I know," he had said softly. "Try to give him some space." You knew he was right, so you kept to yourself and the comfort of Mercedes and Ingrid during your evenings.

        Dimitri continued to be cold and ruthless- at least until Dedue returned during the battle at the Bridge. It motivated your entire crew, and upon victory, Dimitri falls to his knees in front of Dedue, finally showing emotion since you all separated five years ago. His voice was hoarse when he demanded that Dedue never sacrifice himself like that again. It was a tender moment that sparked a few changes in the Prince. He came to the dining hall for dinner during normal times and ate with you, even though he never said anything. You supposed it was nice to have his presence in front of you again. You told him about your training, your day, or the gardening you helped Dedue with. Dimitri just glanced at you every so often. The rest of the month, he was around a little more, and Byleth noted your changed happiness.

        "You're so happy to be around him- even if he doesn't say a word..." he remarked with mirth. "I suppose it's good to be happy now, considering we'll be facing former classmates at the end of the month."

        Byleth's words punched you in the gut- he was right.

        The day you found yourselves at the nostalgic field was a tragedy.

        You cried when you killed your old friend, Bernadetta, but you knew it was a necessary sacrifice to end the war. Was it necessary, though? It would have never happened, had Edelgard never declared war in the first place.

        In that moment, you understand Dimitri's rage, and you want to send a Cutting Gale her way for forcing her self-delusional "justice" onto all these corpses. Were her selfish ways justified? The ends don't always justify the means, after all. You didn't know, but you had an inkling her idealism could be obtained in a way without sacrificing so much blood- her own comrades' blood, nonetheless. You knew the war was complex, but in that moment, all you wanted was for the war to be over.

        Another life was sacrificed on that field. Another life was sacrificed for Dimitri, or "for the war" as Rodrigue would have preferred. It was selfish to think, but in a way, you were grateful for his heavy sacrifice. Had it not been for this, perhaps Dimitri would have never snapped out of his obsession for revenge. Slowly, you started to see the major changes in the prince day after day, becoming free from his survivor's guilt. His mannerisms started to return, and the man gave you bashful smiles whenever you said something. He came out to talk to his old friends; you know even Felix is overjoyed about his prince's return. The gentleman you thought you had lost had finally come back, even better than before.

        Byleth was more than pleased to see his former pupil become grounded, and the two often trained together with smiles and light banter alongside Sylvain and Felix. He regularly helped Ashe and Annette with grocery shopping, and he thanked Dedue whenever he could.

        It was one night when he knocked at your door at one in the morning, confessing he could not sleep.

        "I'm in a much better place, but the deceased always seem to keep me up at night..." he whispered to you when you invited him in. "I don't think they'll ever leave, but they're louder at night."

        "And then you can't sleep..." you mused with empathy, laying your hand on his understandingly.

        He doesn't move his hand, but he doesn't quite hold it as well.

        "They've quieted down... It will be something I live with for the rest of my life, but I fear it may never get better," he confessed, his voice an octave lower than usual.

        "Maybe it'll help if I talk louder than them," you tried to joke, and he offered you a small smile that you missed so dearly. "I missed you." You couldn't help but say it.

        "And I to you. I'm sorry. I know I had been terribly unfair..." he trailed off, but you can't help but notice his gaze shining in the azure moonlight. It was different from when you were students, different from when you first saw him again. You couldn't quite place your finger on it.

        You both wished insomnia was the least of your worries. He came to your room almost every other night, and the two of you talked until you both fell asleep on your bed. The routine was broken when it was finally time to reclaim the throne and defeat Edelgard.

        To everyone's delight, he stood proud as the new ruler of Faerghus with a promise to return after the war. The people already loved having a king in action; his dedication to help his kingdom himself unlike many figurehead rulers captivated the general public and showered him with support. With the help of the Alliance soldiers, the Kingdom captured Fort Merceus. Despite its name of being impregnable, the capture came easier than you originally anticipated, but maybe that is only because Dimitri fought alongside you the entire time.

        Enbarr is captured with more difficulty, however. It does not compare to the final battle with Edelgard. She had normally been a composed woman, but the form she had taken on is truly monstrous. It's enough to keep your knees locked, but with a squeeze of your shoulder, Dimitri had led you forward. He pushed through the left side like a true tactician, and you made sure to support him with your spells.

        Edelgard... an old friend who often joked about you marrying into House Blaiddyd, something you had protested every time. It was hard battling her and her troops emotionally; you couldn't imagine how Dimitri must have felt upon striking her for the final time. As she collapsed to the ground, you let out a shaky breath.

        Fodlan is reunited, finally.

        You found yourself praying for those who have lost their lives in the war. Not a day went by without thinking about at least one of your late friends and former classmates. Finally, the day came when you prayed for Edelgard, mentioning a small joke in the prayer.

        "You always joked about me marrying him..." you murmur to yourself in the chapel as your voice cracked slightly. It is difficult to keep going. "Perhaps in a different timeline... we would be in-laws. In another world, I would have liked you to see our wedding..." It had been a small wedding, as requested by Dimitri and yourself. Your few friends and family came to support you, and you saw even Byleth shed a few tears as you and the former Boar Prince and current Benevolent King exchanged your sweet, tender vows. Everything had been perfect, and you wouldn't have asked for anything more.

        "In a different timeline... we would live without war."

        It is silent in the chapel apart from the soft singing from the choir practicing.

        "My dearest?" You look up to see the man who had captured your heart. "We have a meeting with the King of Almyra... shall we get going? It's quite a long journey," he says, extending his hand to you.

        "It's been a while since we've seen him," you remark.

        You take his hand.

Chapter Text

        You stare blankly at the collapsed girl in front of you and your friends.

        "Um, hello?" Riena, your closest friend, pokes at the girl on the ground with a twig. "You really shouldn't be sleeping on the ground in this part of town. Don't you know there are thieves around?"

        Another friend, Kiev, yanks the stick away from Riena. "Don't poke at her like she's some kind of stray animal," he scolds, his hazel eyes shining with disapproval. "We should take her to Augusta..." he mentions the healer, who is off tending to patients instead of training with your group.

        Horace rolls his eyes. "Are we really in the position to be taking care of other people right now? [Name], you promised we'd be training today- who knows when we'll have the chance to train like this again soon?"

        Your eyes widen. "Hm? Must I always make the decisions?" you complain, running your hands through your hair. "He's right... the king will probably send us to a village to have us look for survivors soon..." The continent was overrun with a war involving your and the neighboring kingdom. As some of the finest and youngest knights at eighteen, you and your friends were called to duty at least once a week. Recently, the opposing kingdom had be burning and attacking small villages, and you were often called to protect them or salvage what was left of them.

        Riena looks up at your with pleading, violet eyes that resemble the indigo your mother used to grow at home. "What kind of knights would we be if we left this maiden alone? She's probably concussed or something!"

        You glance at the other two boys, who are arguing about if you should bring the girl to your fifth friend. "I don't know... August mentioned she'd be busy today patching up the other knights..."        

        Huffing, Riena just leans down and easily lifts up the girl with her Herculean strength. The girl is knocked out, and you can tell she must be from the neighboring kingdom or something. What was she even wearing? Her attire and gadgets seemed to entirely different from what most commoners or nobles wore. "Fine, I'll go and take her myself!" she declares, heading back towards the castle.

        You frown. She really hated to listen you... "Riena, put her down! You have no idea what diseases this rat carries. For all we know, she could be a spy or something!" Horace argues, turning his nose up at the person in her arms. His gray eyes shine with contempt.

        Kiev looks horrified. "A rat? You're awful, Horace!" he cries out. "Riena, I'll help you- all women are queens, after all!"

        "Tch. Have you no shame, you lousy excuse of a womanizer-"

        "I am not a womanizer. I just happen to drink my Respecting Women Juice every morning, and I find every maiden in this land incredibly lovely. Though I suppose a brutish noble like you would never know anything about courting a lady."

        "Oh my Goddess, Kiev, please run," you complain, though you've started to follow Riena and Kiev back to the castle.

        Horace looks murderous. "I will have your head, you mongrel. Know my blood will always be better than yours unless if it's yours being spilled-"

        "You're gonna wake her!" Riena hisses, somehow still managing to carry the girl. You're not that surprised, seeing as she had always been twice or even thrice as strong as you've ever been. The team continues to argue and spew insults at each other, a normal recurrence in your friend group. By the time you reach the castle's infirmary, you're pleading to the Goddess for mercy. Every time the four of you are together, you manage to lose brain cells.

        "Please help!" you moan, falling into Augusta's office. "I can't handle these idiots any longer! I swear I'm going to go crazy! I already have a headache, and it's only been twenty minutes!"

        Horace looks offended. "We are not-"

        "-that bad," Kiev finishes, crossing his arms and pouting. "So mean, [Name]!"

        "Oh? Who do we have here?" Augusta frowns, gesturing to Riena to place the girl onto the bed. "You're lucky I don't have any more patients until this evening..." she immediately puts a spell on the girl, causing her eyes to flutter awake.

        "Huh...?" the stranger mumbles, blinking a few times.

        Riena beams. "Oh, you're awake!" she exclaims cheerfully. "My friends and I found you on the street, passed out and everything!"

        The girl still looks a little dazed. "On... the street?" she rubs her eyes before taking a good glance at the five of you. "Oh. Oh! I know you! Riena! Oh my gosh! and [Name!]" you give her a strange look. This girl knew your names? "Kiev, Horace, and Augusta! It worked! I can't believe it!"

        "Pah! I told you all! A spy!" Horace spat, his lips creased into a deep frown. "[Name], we should let these commoners deal with this rat." Riena scoffs at this and gives him the nastiest look before giving him the finger. Horace looks disgusted, though you know they'll make up by tomorrow morning.

        You let out a sigh. "You're as shallow as ever, old friend..." you turn to the girl. "Ignore him. Who are you? I'm positive we've never met, so I'm not quite sure as to how you know all our names..."

        She grins. "Easy! You're all people from my game! It's called Fire Emblem: Stakes of Gold! I'll show you! [Name], you were the one I got S-Support with!"

        You frown at her. "You'll have to forgive me, but I understand all those words separately," you say slowly, not knowing what in the world she was babbling on about. Perhaps she really was concussed. You're about to ask Augusta to make a vulnerary for her head, but this strange girl whips out a gadget made of black... stone that lights up when she pressed an area.

        "This is my Switch," she explains. "Stakes of Gold is the newest Fire Emblem game after Three Houses!" she quickly shows you the game, revealing avatars that look exactly like you and your group of friends. "I'm a game designer, and I had to meet you all! So I switched things around so I could get sent to your world!"

        Stakes of Gold? Three Houses? "Into our world? This doesn't really answer my question, but-"

        Kiev leans over you to grab onto the device. "What? Let me see! I have no idea what the heck you're taking about!"

        "Hey!" Riena complains, grabbing onto Kiev's silvery hair to pull him back. "Stop hogging it all to yourself!" she exclaims, snatching the device to peer at it some more. Kiev lets out a yelp of pain before glaring at her and reaching back for it. In the process, Riena jumps away, but not before knocking into Horace.

        "Stop fooling around!" he roars, snatching the device away from the two children.

        You eye the "Switch" warily. "Horace, you should really be careful not to activate it something-"

        All of a sudden, your vision blurs, and the light peeking through the infirmary's window gets brighter and brighter. Your knees feel weak, and it feels like you're falling off from the top floor of the castle. It's hard to breathe, and you're not even certain that you are even breathing. The voices of your friends have dissipated, and you can't help but feel bad because you know they'd worry if you lost your conscience. The light and heat and pressure are just too much for you, and you want to shut your eyes. You can't. The light disappears rapidly, leaving you in black.

        ...

        ...

        ...

        "Wah! A g-ghost!"

        "A ghost? Lysithea, are you sure you're seeing things righ- ah!"

        "Huh? What are you two screaming about?"

        These voices... make your head hurt even more. Stop talking, you try to plead, but your lips hardly opened. Your eyes haven't even opened... it didn't sound like any of your friends or the girl from before. Who had found you? Where had you even been found?

        "Oh? That's strange... no one can access Garreg Mach... I wonder who this could be."

        There's a squeak. "Ghost... we have to tell the Professor!"

        "Lysithea, if this person is really a ghost, then even Professor Byleth would be helpless against its haunting. Well, what are you waiting for? With those short, baby legs of yours, you'd best get going to go get her."

        There's a bit of hisses that you can't make out. "Claude, now you really know not to tease her like that. I suppose a new noble like yourself would know nothing about how to treat a lady-" Good Gods, this new voice sounded like a mix of Kiev and Horace...

        "Lorenz, I-"

        Your eyes flutter open in panic as your situation finally starts to sink in. Kiev and Horace! And Riena and August! Where were they? Where were you?

        "Oh! She's awake! Are you hungry? I snuck some food from the dining hall if you want a snack... wait, I ate it on the way back..." a huge blond man remarks, smiling sheepishly. The people around you seemed to be similar in age to you.

        "Ah, so Sleeping Beauty has finally awoken," a brunette with the most stunning viridian eyes commented, one of his eyes winking at you teasingly. "Are you feeling alright? You really spooked us... I mean, imagine coming back to the classroom after lunch hour, and there's a girl collapsed on the girl."

        You prop yourself up with one arm and rub your eyes with your other hand. "Where am I...?" The scene is definitely something you haven't seen in your life before. You've been in classrooms before when you were training to be a knight, but it was never as big as the one you're in right now. In fact, you didn't really see many people your age still in school unless if they were training to be merchants or artisans...

        "You're in Garreg Mach monastery... I have to say, getting here is quite a feat," a purple haired and eyed man remarks. "I'm surprised you managed to sneak in here."

        "Sneaking in?" you murmur, frowning at him. "No, that's definitely a mistake. The last thing I remember was being in the castle infirmary... There's no way I could have snuck in here..."

        A bespectacled boy cocks his head. "A castle? Which one?"

        "Um... Votque... ugh, don't tell me I'm in Elysian territory or something," you complain, thinking about the neighboring kingdom that had declared war on your once peaceful kingdom.

        "Votque... doesn't a ring a bell," the beautiful-eyed man ponders for a moment. "I don't think Fodlan has a kingdom named Votque... or Elysia, for that matter," he comments. "How mysterious."

        "Eh? You're not from Fodlan?" a pink haired girl gasps. "How did you even get here?"

        "I think I may know the answer to that," a new, feminine voice says.

        You feel something tackle you to the ground. "[Name]! Oh, I'm so glad you're here! We were looking all over the monastery for you!" Riena cries.

        Relief settles in your heart. So your friends were here after all. "I just woke up. Are the others here with you?"

        "We are, but I'm glad you're safe," Kiev pipes up. "I wouldn't know what to do if I was just stuck with Chatterbox and Snob over here... well, I guess Augusta would keep me sane, right?"

        She gives him a small giggle. "You would indeed go insane since I would never be caught alone with you," she replies, sugar coating her not-so-sweet claims.

        "Very pleasant. Going back to insults only moments after [Name] has awoken," Horace says dryly.

        "Shut it, you pretentious noble. It's better than moping around and not doing anything," Riena comments.

        Horace frowns. "Hoe."

        The purple haired man gapes at Horace. "How dare you?!" he cries, marching right up to the dark-haired man. "You claim to be a noble but treat this beautiful lady," Riena giggles flirtatiously at this. "like she isn't a precious flower? What do the people in Votque do to raise their children like this?" he scoffs.

        "I am the prince, so I can do whatever I please, Grape Juice."

        "Aaanyways, Teach, tell us what you know," the tan, emerald-eyed continues. "I'm sure Sleeping Beauty is just as confused as the rest of us Golden Deer are." He sends you a wink that makes your heart flutter.

        The professor clears her throat. "They must have come from a different dimension with a device that forcefully sent them here. It originally belongs to a female from a different world... though it seems she isn't here. I've placed the broken device in the hands of Lady Rhea until we find out more." Broken?! Would you never be able to return home now? You look at your friends, who don't seem that concerned- with the exception of Horace.

        The tanned male arches an eyebrow at this. "With Lady Rhea?"

        "Man, this is too much for me. I'm going to go train for the rest of the hour," a red-headed girl huffs, and you agree, still trying to process what had just happened. At least you didn't have to deal with that other girl for now, and your friends are all safe...

        "How exciting... I wonder what will happen to you now!" Hopefully they wouldn't kick you out now that you were awake.

        "Well, it seems they are knights and capable of fighting... Lady Rhea has given them the choice of staying to train with the Three Houses," you perk up at this. Wasn't that the game the girl was talking about? Were you transported into this world, then? 

        "And we'll do it!" Riena chirps. "I woke up right next to Edelgard, and she offered to recruit me into Black Eagles!" she says cheerfully, pumping her fists in the air.

        "And I with Blue Lions," Horace grumbles. "Though I prefer not to stay... I suppose it's best to train with a fellow prince. Perhaps I could learn much from Dimitri..."

        Kiev frowns, placing his hands behind his head. "You've decided already? Augusta and I still have no idea which to join!"

        "The Golden Deer, of course!" the charming man claims, grinning. "Claude von Riegan," he introduces himself to your squad. "Well, we're a little different from the other two houses, but we're undoubtedly the best." The other students in the classroom hum in agreement.

        The pink-haired girl beams. "Yeah! You should join us! We can split up the work together! My name is Hilda!"

        The professor sighs. "It looks like I won't be getting anywhere today. Take the rest of the day off to train while I grade," she waves you all off before returning to her office.

        This is all just too much to sink in right now, and you pull your friends aside. "And you're all alright with this? How are you all so calm? Especially you, Horace?"

        He sighs. "Don't misunderstand, but I was against it an hour ago when I first woke up. It looks like there's no plausible way of returning home since somebody," he glares at Kiev and Riena. "decided to break the device that summoned us here..."

        "It's best to just take advantage of the situation. Fodlan isn't too of from our old home, and everything seems to function the same," Augusta mentions.

        "It's scary," Kiev admits. "But our profession has always been scary. It's kind of like getting more practice in... I hate to leave my family behind, but at least we still get to be knights."

        Riena nods vigorously. "Yeah! Plus that Golden Deer is totally into you! Did you see the way he was eyeballing you the entire time? I mean, if he wasn't eyeing you the entire time and even now, I would definitely go for him!" she whispers to you.

        "I think maybe it's because our appearance surprised him," you answer sarcastically, but you can feel the surface of your cheeks heating up at the thought of the pretty-eyed man. You quickly look behind you, and he looks over with a small smile.  In retrospect, he was pretty handsome... but you shouldn't be thinking about such trivial things in a time like this!

        "Trust me," Riena giggles, winking.

        "I have an idea! How about the rest of us join Golden Deer?" Kiev suggests. "You get Claude to hold you in his big, strong arms, I get to chat the lovely ladies like Marianne, and Augusta comes with since she's my sister." You want to stick something up his nostrils so very much at this moment for that comment.

        Augusta rolls her eyes. "I guess I don't have many complaints... I've been talking to Marianne at the stables, and she's well versed as a healer. Leave her be, Kiev!"

        "Whoops, sorry, but do you guys mind if I steal this one for a bit?" you can hear Claude interrupt. "Though I won't be holding her with my big, strong arms just yet..."

        You glare at Kiev, who gives you a wolfish grin. "Yes, take her away!" Riena interrupts, shoving you right into his chest, and Claude holds your waist to balance you.

        He's warm, you notice. You peek up at the House leader, mirth dancing in his chartreuse eyes. "Oh? I guess I spoke too soon," he comments coolly, though his arms haven't left your form. Instead, he takes one arm off your waist and uses the one holding onto you to guide you out of the classroom as your friends smirk at you.

        "I'm sorry for them," you laugh nervously. "I know this must be a shock to you all... It certainly has been for me," you admit, refusing to look at him in the eyes.

        "It's not a problem," he reassures you. "I suppose it does no good to just mope and wonder why, so allow me to get straight to the point. It seems like some of your friends have already chosen a House for them. Seeing as you met us first, I'd like for you to join. If you can lure the remainder of yours friends in, that'd also be swell."

        Your eyes widen. "Join your House?"

        "Yeah," he tilts his head, smiling at you, but you can feel him analyze you with those eyes of his. "If all of you went to our rival Houses, that'd give us a disadvantage for sure, huh?" he says teasingly. "Though, it's really up to you..."

        "Ah... Kiev did mention about joining..." for the sake of a girl... "It would likely be the best option since I don't know the others," you admit before your eyes widen. "Oh, I've completely forgotten to introduce myself to you and the others... my name is [Full Name]!"

        "Hmm... [Name]," he tests your name on his tongue before grinning. "Curious about getting to know me, I see... but don't worry, I'm curious about you, too," he teases. "Welcome to the Golden Deers, dear [Name]. I guess I'll have to go recruit the other two, now," he laughs, and it's a sound that makes you feel weak at core.

        You had no idea how you were going to survive the rest of this year.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        "Catching up on your studies, I see."

        You jump at the sudden whisper at your ear. "Claude! I didn't hear you..."

        He pulls out the chair next to you before sitting down and propping up his head with his arm on the table. "Gotta be stealthy if you're a Sniper," he gives you a half-smile. "Dimensions, huh?" he eyes the title of one of the books on the table that you hadn't gotten to yet.

        You hesitate. "Ah..."

        "Didn't know the Church would have any books on it. Are you that eager to return home? I'm sure you're lonely without your family and old friends, huh? Or maybe you left a lover back home?"

        You blush, and you're thankful for the ambient lighting of the library. "Um. No lover or many other friends. I do miss my parents... I was just reading up since it still seems like a mystery to me," you confess. "Tomas is helping me out and brought me these books..."

        "Ah, he's helped me a few times with providing books..." It's been two moons since your arrival, but you still aren't sure why you've come to this dimension. Theoretically, shouldn't you have gone to the dimension that girl was originally from?

        "Still, I guess you're right. It's still a mystery," Claude sighs. "Sometimes I think about it, but nothing plausible explains your appearance. Guess I can't complain if I gained such a valuable soldier."

        You roll your eyes. "Remember I'm not just a pawn in your battle plans," you tease. "What brings you here? I don't want to distract you from any work you have."

        "Hm? No reason, really. Just taking a stroll..."

        "You're a liar, Claude," you comment, trying to keep the smile off of your face. "You're in here a lot, and I've heard you don't do things without a reason. A man who knows what he wants."

        He groans. "Stop indulging in gossip about me! It's not fair that you know stuff about me, but it's been two months, and I still don't know that much about you!"

        "We study every other day together, Claude..."

        "And you're harder to read that the books in front of you. Seriously, I've never heard of... 'the multiple worlds theory' before. Too many secrets, my dear [Name]," he leans back into the chair, and your heart flips at the little pet name he calls you. You know it's something to not get worked up about, but you can't help it. Because it's him.

        "I think I have maybe a quarter of the amount of secrets as you do," you giggle.

        He frowns. "You say that like it's a good thing..." you roll your eyes for the umpteenth time at this. "But you know, you are right about one thing..."

        "And what's that?" you look up at him, and he looks so good in the warm lighting of the library. His hair is embedded with strands of gold and copper, and his eyes are twinkling emeralds.

        "That I'm a man who knows what he wants. And I want to get to know you better, which is why I'm here," he explains standing up. "Don't stay up too late." He leans down to kiss your head before heading out the door.

        Needless to say, you weren't able to read your books for the rest of the night.

Chapter Text

        It had been a hobby you had taken up when you were younger-

        Well, something that was more or less forced onto you by your grandmother, the former Lady of House (Last Name). She had been a pianist in her younger years and was more than eager to teach you since her son, your father, never learned. In fact, it was something you hated at first. You wanted to do painting! Or swordfighting like your elder brother! Maybe learning more magic besides Fire! Something cool and brave like your noble friends did. Not something like piano lessons...! Of course, it was always satisfying and nice to hear some lovely chords and melodies, but playing the piano wouldn't stop anyone from invading your family's territory! If something were to happen, there was no way you'd be able to help your siblings defend the land! Regardless of your thoughts, as the youngest child, you kept your mouth shut- until the ripe age of fifteen. By then, you were sick of playing classics during balls and masquerades-- for free, nonetheless! They may as well pay you if you were going to be forced to play for entertainment.

        You had made a deal with your family. You would continue playing piano for the rest of your life and perform whenever they wanted, but you were to be sent to the Officer Academy at Garreg Mach.

        Your father objected at first. "Why would you want to be trained? Your siblings will be able to defend the territory! All you have to do is look nice and wait for a suitor."

        Your elder sister nudged you. "It'll be hard to train without the benefits of a Crest," she reminded you of your Crestless form.

        "That doesn't have anything to do with it!" you threw your hands up in annoyance. Why do they always have to bring it up? You were lucky to have a family that valued love and warmth over Crests, but it didn't change the fact that it was required to fight- at least, in your parents' eyes. To fight, you needed a crest to inherit the House, and your brother had been the one to inherit the Crest and the House and fighting rights.

        "I'll be the heir to the House, so you don't ever have to do any fighting," your eldest sibling, your brother, reminded you gently. "Besides, you're the best pianist this House has ever seen! Even better than Grandmother when she was your age, in her own words!"

        Your sister, also having inherited the Crest, agreed. "Boy, do I wish I were you!" she sighs. "I'm sick of training! I'd rather study and play piano and laze around like you get to!"

        "That's exactly my point!" you cried out, getting frustrated. "I know I'm the baby of the family, but I feel so useless! What if there's a war? And Goddess forbid, we need more help defending our territory from whoever!" you pause for a second, eyeing your father's stunned face. "...Playing piano won't help us then."

        Your mother looked uncertain. "You haven't trained a single day except for maybe some magic... I'm not sure if the Academy is the best choice for you. It'll be quite a change."

        It felt like you were begging them to let you get your first horse. You had to present to your entire family on why you should own a personal horse a few years back. "The professors there are the best in all of Fodlan! I know you don't like most of the ones in the Kingdom. Are you going to send me to the Empire or Alliance then?"

        "She has a point," your father hummed. "Perhaps it'll be good. You are young, and it would be useful if you could hold your own in a battle."

        Your mother sighed. "...One year. Before your eighteenth birthday," she compromised, to which you rolled your eyes at, but who cared? You'd finally be getting out of this house! "If there are any problems, then you're coming right back!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        You remember the promise you had made your mother a few years back, and in this very moment, you wanted to turn on your heel and go back home, forfeiting to her "I told you so." Before you could stare at the noble in front of you in disgust and zip out of there with a quick "sike!", the slithery redhead placed a gentle hand on the small of your back, but you push him away.

        "Come on! I heard they were serving sorbet today!" Sylvain pleads sweetly, though you know better. You were taught better than that. Your siblings were always wary of outsiders trying to wriggle their way into your house and had lectured about slimy men who would use you for your lineage.

        "They serve sorbet once a week on Mondays," you point out, pushing him a few more inches away from you. For crying out loud, it was the third day of school, and the Gautier heir was insistent on getting to know you as soon as possible. You were in the same class- he could have all year to butter you up, or something. It wasn't the first time a man tried to hit on you- they were all the same, after all. Knowing Gautier history, he probably just wanted to take advantage of your last name and your family's wealth.

        "Are you trying to say you want to eat with me at least once a week? 'Cause that's totally possible- I mean, we can dine together whenever you want!" his bronze eyes light up.

        You arch an eyebrow. "Wha? No, honey, no." Goddess, he was so dumb. "Please go find Mercedes or Dorothea or even the professor," you mentioned the blank-eyed woman.

        "Now why would I go find them when I have you right in front of me?-"

        You hear someone call your name, and you're more than grateful to see an excited Annette waving and sprinting at you. "Let's go practice together!" she chirps happily. "Hi, Sylvain. Come on! I found this new book at the library, and Mercedes doesn't wanna study Reason like we do!"

        "Yeah!" you agree enthusiastically, more than happy to start learning some more magic. "Sorry, Sylvain. I'll see you during class."

        This routine happened for a few weeks now.

        "Hey! How about we-"

        "Um, sorry. Professor wants me to do choir practice today."

        -

        "Glad I caught you! I was wondering if you-"

        "What? No, it's Annette's birthday today. Did you forget?"

        -

        "I've been searching for you!"

        "Oh, I'm actually looking for Dedue. He promised he'd be teaching me this new recipe today."

        -

        "(Naaame)-"

        "I'm sparring with Felix, sorry!"

        To be honest, you almost felt sorry for the Gautier. All you had been doing this entire month was just avoiding him or pushing him away for the sake of other people. In your defense, your Blue Lions were really entertaining, and a few of them have opened up to you about their problems. Sylvain... just wasn't one of them. Was there anything more than him just being a Casanova? You didn't think so. It never seemed like he was forcing a smile like Annette was or struggling with emotional vulnerability like Felix. Sylvain... just goofed around during lectures and used his lance during missions.

        Still, you felt sorry for the guy. In fact, he'd stopped hitting you up and started treating you more as a friend nowadays. It was on your way to go apologize to him when you saw him chatting with one of the baker's daughters. By the looks of him, he had broken his ninth heart this month, and you were starting to forget why exactly you wanted to apologize to a bastard like that.

        Not needing to see anymore, you turned around and headed to the greenhouse to pick some tomatoes for tonight's dinner with Ashe and the Professor.

        Unbeknownst to you, mocha eyes followed your disappearing figure. Perhaps you would have stayed ignorant until he said something about it the next day.

        "Hey! I think I saw you around town yesterday..."

        You look up from your book, eyes struggling to stay open as sleep persuaded them to take a little rest. "Huh? Oh... I guess I was there for a bit..." you half-lie, not really wanting to explain that you were there to see him.

        He studies your gaze for a bit. "Up studying late last night?" he jokes, smiling as he notes your exhaustion. "I was wondering if you saw everything back there..."

        "No, and yes, in that order," you manage to yawn out, but you aren't really willing to explain why you were staying up so late. "You're gonna run out of hearts to break by the end of this month if you keep it up."

        He frowns. "So cruel..." he barks out a fit of laughter. "You never let up, huh? Hey, how about we grab that sorbet? It is a Monday, and you look like you could use a wake-up."

        You're not exactly sure why you accepted. "Sure," is what slips past your lips. Is it because you're so freaking tired? You've never seen him so happy in the few weeks you've been in school with him. In fact, the sorbet isn't as great as it usually is, but nothing takes the wide smile off his face during your lunch hour. His talking is more animated than usual, but you find it hard to focus when there's a bit of ice cream on his cheek.

        ...He looks like a child.

        The smile is wiped off after a week, though. According to Ingrid, he had been dumped by some girl who chased after another nobleman's crest, though she suspects the guy was lying about it.

        "It's a sensitive topic for him," the blonde Pegasus Rider-in-training explains. "He usually thinks girls are using him for his crest or status."

        "Fuckin' baby..." Felix snorts, before turning to his notes he had taken earlier that day. Annette just gives him an angry pout and lectures him about "friendship" or whatever.

        A frown approaches your lips. "Is he gonna be okay?"

        She sighs. "He'll get over it, but visiting him isn't that bad of an idea." She shakes her head, as if thinking about an annoying little brother. "Are you going to be okay? You look like you haven't really been sleeping..." she finishes with a concerned call of your name.

        You offer her a small smile. "I think so. Just stressed..."

        "Oh, about the Monk exam? Don't worry; I know you'll do great. You work harder than any of us- especially Felix," she jokes, who has put his head down to take a small nap after getting an earful from Annette.

        You laugh along with her, but a small part of you knows you won't be getting any sleep tonight.

        In fact, your insomnia is worse than it's ever been. You're usually asleep by two-thirty, maybe three at the latest. It's three-twenty-six, and your eyes are still fixed on the little crack in the corner of your room.The thought of having to go into a battle at the end of the week makes you feel sick. You had never... fought anyone before. In fact, you've only trained with your fellow classmates only a handful of times, and they were usually handing your ass to you! To think you'd have to fight for your life and even take some is disturbing, to say the least. The others seem relatively unfazed, having come from noble families who had trained their children at young ages to be splendid fighters or from common backgrounds that often saw crime. You, on the other hand, have been sheltered and unexposed to them.

        It's irrational- Professor Byleth has done so much for you and taught you more magic than you could ever dream of in a mere two months, and you know you'll make it out alive... But the thought of survival does nothing to quell the sick twists in your stomach. You'll come out alive. Even if you happen to forget your spells, you know your comrades will have your back... but at what cost? What lives would you be potentially taking? What blood would be on your hands?

        It's nearing four in the morning, and you suppose it wouldn't do too much harm to take a walk. Before you know it, a another layer has wrapped you up in preparation for the chills of the early morning, and you're already out the door. You make sure to sneak out quietly, knowing the Professor would scold you for being out of your room during night hours.

        It takes nearly forever to get down the stairs since your steps always tended to echo in the stairwell. Thankfully, not a soul is around to hear the almost silent tap, tap, taps of your steps. You aren't sure where to go, but eventually, you make it to the eerily silent reception hall. There's a knight at the end of the hall, and you almost freeze in place from fear. Whether if he's secretly asleep, or unobservant, or... maybe even letting you sneak away, he doesn't seem to say anything.

        Not wanting to risk getting caught, you make a right turn and keep going until you're sure no one is around you. The only thing you see is a door, and you peek inside of it. It's a relatively normal room, though quite big. You sneak inside and turn on a very small lamp. To your surprise, a beautiful white piano sits in the middle of it.

        How ironic to see the very thing you had wanted to get away from in the first place. You hadn't played since you had come to the monastery, and you touch it gingerly, as if it would transform into a Wyvern and gnaw your hand off. It has the tiniest coat of dust on it- how had no one played this yet? Playing piano wasn't something you were eager to do, but you knew a good piano when you saw one.

        You open the piano up like a pop-up book, and very carefully, you press down on a C key, hearing it resonate through the room. It's just the slightest bit flat, but something about it is so raw.

        Like instinct, your hands fly into place, delicately pressing down, as if you were giving it a massage. A wave of nostalgia hits you as your fingers weep and dance with their old friend, the piano. You miss a few notes, but you can still recognize the sweet melody of one your favorite pieces.

        Something sparks in your heart, and you realize... you've missed it. It was almost like you hadn't stopped playing, and as your hands move accordingly, you wonder why you hadn't sought out a piano earlier. Maybe you were too busy, but it doesn't matter now. All that does matter is the tender cry the keys makes your heart thump and your bones vibrate.

        Before you know it, the song has ended, and you're left brimming with satisfaction, despite the few mistakes you had made.

        "You play piano?" he calls, making you jump in surprise.

        "Goddess, you scared me, Sylvain," you manage to croak out. "Thought you were a guard or Seteth coming to whack my head off my shoulders," you joke, as the scarlet-haired man takes a seat next to you.

        He grimaces. "Jeez, I would hate to be caught by that broccoli-head... I think our lives would be over," he laughs, and you can't help but giggle alongside him.

        "I know, right?" you grin. "It's pretty late. What's keeping you up?"

        Sylvain stretches his arms for a moment before yawning. "The usual. Resentment of my bloodline, and how tough it is being me." He cracks his neck before glancing at you with warm, coffee eyes.

        "Tough being you?" you echo, not believing him. "Ingrid told me that your... bloodline was a touchy subject, but I can't imagine it'd be hard being a talented, intelligent, and good-looking noble with his life laid out in front of him." Your tone is sarcastic, and you almost regret saying everything you did.

        "I know you're in love with me, but it makes me bashful when you compliment me like that..." he pretends to be a meek schoolgirl. "I guess it's not all bad, but I guess I'm just bitter I have my life laid out in front of me."

        Bitter? What could be so bad about it? Your life was laid out in front of you, but you didn't necessary oppose it... In fact, it brought you a bit of comfort to know your future would be relatively stable regardless of what you did.

        "I mean think about it," he continues, his fingers caressing the keys. "I can't choose what I wanna do since I'll be head of the Gautier House eventually. I can't choose if people like me. I can't choose my future wife- not that I'd wanna choose any of these superficial women anyways... I can't even choose the daily special the dining hall puts out," he finishes with a joke.

        "Why can't you choose?" you ask softly.

        He shrugs, looking away. "I dunno. Everything's based off this dumb crest anyways. I mean, I bet if I didn't have it, I could just go do whatever the hell I want. But my family just has everything planned for me, regardless if I even wanted to go through with these plans. Good ol' Gautier, am I right?"

        "You've never opposed them?"

        "It won't matter."

        "That's... not always true," you shrug. "I mean... my parents just wanted me to sit around home, playing piano as I wait for some suitor to come sweep me off my feet." The sentence flies out of your mouth without even thinking about it. "I begged them to let me come here though. So I could learn more about... uh... fighting."

        He raises his eyebrows. "You don't sound too stoked about it."

        "I mean. It was fun until I realized I might have to actually kill someone," you answer softly, the thought of it giving you shivers. Sylvain notices this and takes off his jacket to place around your shoulders, which you accept gratefully with a smile as warm as the color of his hair.

        "Your conscience has been keeping you awake," he realizes.

        You nod. "The point is... I wanted something different, and I got it. It keeps me up at night, but I guess that's what I have the piano for. Though, I've never played in Garreg Mach before this night... It just called for me. I think you should just take advantage of your circumstances, though," you try to explain, but the words are failing you- evidently by the stoic look on your friend's face. "Uh... it's like... I'm glad I'm here... but I'm also really glad my parents made me a pianist, too..."

        "Though I guess you have been taking advantage of your circumstances," you muse, tilting your head. "I mean, I think Ingrid said something about your crest and girls..."

        He snorts. "That's mostly because they want me because of my crest. They just want the status. If I help her give birth to a child who inherits the crest, of course it'll benefit her. You get it, don't you?"

        "I don't have a crest," you say flatly. "I guess... some suitors have been interested in getting my family's wealth... I suppose it's something akin to that. Still, aren't you just getting some kind of frivolous validation from dating around these girls?"

        He winces. "Ouch, you know to hit where it hurts, haha," but the laughter is dry and devoid of any humor. 

        "Sorry," you apologize, feeling really, really guilty.

        "It's... okay," he sighs. "I guess you're right. I don't know. My crest has really... kind of ruined me. Isn't it funny how my House's relic is called the Lance of Ruin? My parents probably started loving me and adoring me because I have this Goddess-damned crest. My older brother on the other hand... well, I guess he got the shorter end of the stick since he never inherited it. You know, he hates me cause of it. Says his life would have been better if I was never born." His voice cracks at the end, and immediately, you trace your hand over his, which are still on the ivory keys.

        "So to make up for it... you date around."

        "They're shallow. I guess it kind of helps... but who knows if they'd be so eager to show me off if I didn't have this crest."

        You nudge him. "You? Come on. Like I said, you're smart and talented and handsom- oh, don't give me that look," you grumble, pulling your hand away. "I'm just saying. Crest or not, you're you. Nothing will change the fact that you're Sylvain."

        "So you are in love with me."

        "No!" you cry out. "I'm trying to say... regardless of your crest or your status, you have your good traits that bring people to you... well, you've also got your horrible ones too."

        "But you love me regardless of my bad traits!"

        You roll your eyes, trying to shove him off the piano bench. He doesn't budge. "Goddess, you are really focusing on the wrong things. Forget I ever tried to make you feel better," you complain, getting up.

        Immediately, his hand shoots up and pulls you back down with a sweet coo of your name. "Hey, hey, I'm kidding. I really do appreciate it. It's... not often I get to talk about this," he admits bashfully, and you wish the lamp was brighter to see if he was blushing right now. "I mean, people just have an expectation of me, so I feel obligated to always... fulfill it."

        Your smile softens. "I have fun with whatever version you'll give me. And I know our friends do, too. Hey, really. Don't feel like you have to oblige to your family. They know how to compromise. It's you and your life, after all."

        He returns your smile, and it's something that lights up the dimly lit room. "Thanks... It's just hard... coming to terms with things," he admits.

        "Growth takes time," you reply. 

        It's silent for a while, but the two of you are comfortable. "Do you think you could play for me some time?" he finally asks, looking at you with eyes that resemble those of a puppy. "Maybe not now since it's kind of late-"

        "Oh! I didn't realize anyone was in here. You two sure are up early..."

        The both of you turn to see Professor Manuela, holding a book of what seems to be songs. "Oh, Professor!" you greet. "Do you use this room to practice?"

        "I do... but usually no one is in here this early... on a Monday morning, too! In fact, I don't remember Sylvain ever being up this early," she chuckles, and you glance at the clock to see that it's seven in the morning. "I guess I'll have to wait. Though I heard from your grandmother that you're a great pianist. I hope you'll accompany me one day?"

        "Yes! But, uh, feel free to use the room," you offer, getting up and yanking the flame-haired teen up with you. "We were just about to leave..."

        "If you insist," she tilts her head with a knowing smirk before giving you a sly wink. "You two have a good day!"

        You don't even want to think about what in the world she might be addressing, and you pull your companion out of the room, refusing to look at him in case he sees the red flush on your cheeks. "Seven AM... there goes my sleep. We'll have to get ready for class."

        He groans. "Goddess, I'm exhausted... Think I can sneak in a thirty minute nap? We still have an hour and a half before we gotta go..."

        "Pfft. As if you'll wake up again," you tease, and he rolls his eyes.

        "Got any better plans then?" he challenges.

        You hesitate for a moment before a small smile finds its way onto your lips for the thousandth time that early, early morning.

        "We can see if the dining hall is serving sorbet this early."

        "I like the way you think."

Chapter Text

        “Professor!”

        Byleth glances up at you, waiting patiently at the dining hall for you to catch up. You're waving at him frantically, and he has to stifle a laugh when you miss a step on the stairs leading from the pond to the dining hall. Despite being one of the stealthiest students, you had a knack for being clumsy off the battlefield. When you finally do, you’re out of breath, cheeks slightly flushed. “Sorry I ran a little late! I was just helping Ignatz grind some paint since he wanted to send something to Maya later this weekend!”

        Byleth nods in understanding. “Raphael’s sister?”

        “Yup! Now that they’re friends again, I guess Maya comes with her brother as a package deal! You didn’t wait too long, did you?” you ask as the two of you enter the noisy and bustling dining hall, smells of delicious meals hugging your noses. You hadn’t eaten all day, and the Professor has offered to eat with you after lectures today upon finding out.

        “I got here only a few moments ago,” he replies, studying the daily menu. “Would you rather eat something else?”

        You shake your head, feeling excited. “Not at all! I love this stuff!” you motion to today’s special. “My older sister cooks it pretty often at home, but I don’t think I’ve tried it at Garreg Mach yet!”

        “You live with her and your younger brother?” he tries to recall as he requests two of the daily special from the dining hall staff, who give him a warm smile upon seeing their personal favorite Professor.

        To be honest, Professor Byleth was your favorite, too. You had your doubts in the beginning of the year; he looks only a few years older than you and had the emotional capacity of a turnip. As the months went by, you realized he was an exceptional educator, and you were grateful he had chosen your house to teach. If he had stuck with the Lions or Eagles, you probably wouldn’t be the same person you are now!

        “Yeah. My eldest sister is pretty old, so she provides for us a lot. My youngest sister is planning on becoming a blacksmith, but her goal changes every other week,” you reply with a laugh. "Thanks for eating with me!"

        He gives you a rare smile- the one that sent Hilda and Annette into a blushing mess. Hardly anyone in the monastery was immune to his grin. "Always," is his response, and you have to admit it sends your heart into a gallop. You scold yourself for acting so out of line; he was your professor! It wasn't like you were even that special... didn't he treat all of his students out for food pretty often?

        That night, you had confessed to Hilda about it, and you were smacked in the face with her blush-pink pillow.

        "What?! He only takes the rest of us out to eat on Sundays! I don't remember him treating any of us after lectures..." she points out, a hint of jealousy coating her words. "I would kill to be you!" you take the pillow and wrap your arms around it.

        "Please don't," you joke, knowing she was... kind of serious. It was incredibly strange to think such a feminine and dainty girl was able to hurl a whole steel axe at her opponents with her non-dominant hand. The amount of strength she had scared you and the rest of your house members.

        "You've been snatching him away! Have you noticed he's always helping you with your lessons? More than me," she whines, falling back onto the mattress. "So not fair! If he likes you that much, he should just be a man and say it..."

        You give her a snort. "Does it matter? You've been hooking up with Dorothea anyways," you snark back smugly, watching her expression morph into something truly priceless. "You know my room is right next to hers, right? Did you forget again? I swear, the two of you are so loud-"

        "Oh my gosh!" she cries out, yanking the pillow out of your grasp and smashing it into your face again. "Can you stop? You can't mention this to anyways! Especially Claude! He'll blackmail me!"

        You pout, shoving your friend and the damned pillow away. "I think it's cute! She's had a crush on you for months! You'll dance with her at the ball this weekend, right? Lemme do your makeup for once!" you beg, giving her your best puppy eyes- that work on even coldhearted Felix.

        She mock glares at you for a few seconds before beaming at you, rose eyes gleaming with mischief. "Okay, deal! But in exchange, you have to dance with Professor! He won't say no!"

        "Weren't you complaining how I was stealing him away, and now you're practically trying to shove me into his arms?" you giggle, though your cheeks blossom into a light blush at the thought of dancing with your cool-faced teacher. "We aren't supposed to dance with our professors, though!" you object.

        Hilda lifts up a finger, her nail perfectly manicured. "He's like, only a few years older than us. He's not an old crusty man! Knowing how popular that man is, I'm sure he'll be getting requests to dance all night! You should ask him... otherwise Edelgard might beat you to punch," she snickers, knowing how she was always vying for Byleth's attention.

        "Fine, fine! I'll ask him," you grumble. "Just for that, I'm gonna put green eyeshadow on you."

        "Ew, I'm not a frog!"

        The night and the rest of the week passes by uneventfully. The lectures were interesting enough, but you could hardly focus on the history of brawling when Professor Byleth looks that good, even with those dark circles under his eyes. Would you really be able to dance with him? You hope he'd accept. You actually don't ask him to dance that night.

        Hilda was right; female students are crawling all over him the second he steps into the room, looking devastatingly good despite wearing the monastery-issued outfit. Hilda gives you a raised eyebrow, put perfectly into place with the brow gel you applied on her earlier that night. "That's going to be pretty tough to pierce through..."

        "Should we grab his attention somehow? Like, 'oh, Professor! Help me up!'" Dorothea jokes, though her eyes have a hint of worry for you as Edelgard and even Annette approach the man.

        Hilda snorts. "Babe, that is not going to work."

        "What? I'm trying to come up with ideas!"

        You roll your eyes and shove the two onto the dance floor. "Oh my Goddess, get out of here, you two," you joke. "I'll be fine, Mom(s)! I'll get it under control," you insist, trying to keep the hesitation out of your voice.

        The two shoot you worried glances but move along to share a dance for the night. They look good enough, you notice. A lot of the couples dancing on the floor fit each other well- since when were Ashe and Petra a thing? Among the couples, you see a mischievous Claude pull the poor Professor, who does not look incredibly thrilled, to the dance floor and shove him with Edelgard. With a heavy heart, you have to admit they look dashing together.

        You do dance with a few boys who had shyly approached you that night, and it's not all bad. You hadn't known they felt that way about you, but you have to gently reject them since your eyes follow a certain navy-haired man throughout the grand room. The room is so brightly lit, and when you see him smile, you swear the lights paled in color another shade. The reason for his smile makes you frown; the sight of him dancing with some Blue Lion student makes your stomach drop. Deciding you had enough at this point and accepting the fact you'd never be able to get him away from his fans during the night, you step outside into the chilly evening.

        You don't want to return to your dorm and wallow in your misery, so you do the next best thing that pops into your mind. With everyone in the ballroom, you'd be able to find some time with the stars up in the Goddess Tower. Who knows? Maybe there'd be another lonely soul for you to chat with before you head to bed. It isn't too far away, and the climb is justified by the stunning features of the evening sky above. The navy and black streams of the sky are blanketed with delicate stars, who sympathize with you tonight. For some reason, it brings more comfort to you than it had ever done before. The ledge you're leaning on is cold. In fact, you're shivering from the cool air, but you can't bring yourself to care about your warmth right now. You want some kind of solace, and it makes you feel better to think that the wind is dancing with you.

        "Oh. I didn't know someone was up here."

        You turn to see a familiar figure approach you, his expression soft and perhaps a bit intrigued. "Professor?" your voice is a whisper, almost lost in the night breeze. You can't believe your eyes. Was this the Goddess making fun of you tonight?

        "You didn't have fun at the ball?" he asks, leaning on to the ledge next to you. His gray-blue eyes are hard to read- as per usual.

        You hesitate. "It was fun," you reply honestly. "I guess I was feeling overwhelmed." It wasn't technically a lie. He probably thinks the crowd was too much, but in reality, you were done with seeing other students fawn over the handsome professor.

        He nods in understanding. "Me too. It did look like you were getting a lot of suitors that night." If you didn't know any better, you could sense a hint of mirth and curiosity in his voice.

        Was he looking at you? How else would he have known you had been asked to dance so many times tonight? "Well, maybe," you shrug, refusing to look at his piercing gaze that seems to analyze you at any given moment. "Definitely not as much as you. I'm sure it's hard being the Academy's favorite professor."

        He shakes his head, chuckling softly. You laugh along with him before wrapping your arms around yourself. "Are you cold?" he asks, finally noticing your shivering form.

        Uh oh. You refuse to seem like a baby in front of him. Every time you did, he always put you in the rearguard in the next mission, as if assuming you weren't ready to take on the vanguard just yet. You had been training more than usual this month, and you were damned if he didn't put you in the front again. "Not at all!" you insist.

        Professor Byleth only gives you a flat look. All of his expressions were pretty similar, but he looked especially unamused this time. Without another word, he takes off that strange coat of his and places it around you before buttoning it at the top for you. Already, you feel thrice as warm as before. His hands brush over your collarbones, and you shiver a little at his touch and hope he thinks it was due to the cold. He pauses at this and stares at you, as if knowing something you didn't. "I didn't expect to see you at this tower, though. Do you know the myth...?"

        You've heard of it before. It was when a couple snuck into the tower and made a wish together, which the Goddess would graciously grant. The more you thought about it, the more your heart started jumping. If the two of you were here alone... any outsider would likely assume you two were a couple indulging in the myth. The thought is embarrassing, and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from grinning idiotically.

        "You make a wish, right?" you ask softly, trying to look at him again. There's a small smile on his face.

        "Would you like to make one? You can pick," he offers, and this man does not know the affect he's having on you right now. You hope that he can't hear your racing heartbeat or pick up on the small blush dusting the tops of your cheeks.

        You look down at the ground shyly. "I guess... I'd have to wish for my loved ones to be safe. After my parents died, I got closer to my sisters... I don't know what I'd do if I lost them. Or even my classmates here." And you.

        His smile has grown considerably wider. "It's a good wish. I want my father and my students to be safe, too. I wish for our loved ones to be safe, then."

        "There," you grin. "The Goddess is going to grant our wish!" you say cheerfully, and he gives you a look that makes you want to melt in his arms.

        The Goddess, however, is not so merciful.

        The next day, the life of his father is snatched away, and it's the first time you've ever seen your stoic professor cry. It makes your heart shatter like the glass you had dropped earlier that month. There's nothing more you want to do than to comfort him, but everyone in your house knows better than to approach him right now. For the next week, Catherine has been taking over lectures, and you take strolls near his quarters every day, hoping to see a glimpse of him. Your friends have left him trinkets or small gifts as comfort, but you have nothing to give him except a hug on Saturday night.

        You're coming back from the dining hall from eating a late dinner, and you see him sitting by the fishing pond. It's quite late, and no one is there. A part of you doesn't want to approach him during such a tender time, but the bigger part in you demands you to sit next to him. Byleth glances at you momentarily, and you can tell he hasn't been sleeping, even in the faint moonlight. You aren't quite sure what to say, so you place your hand on top of his as you search for the right words.

        Surprisingly, he's the one to speak up first. "I guess we didn't wish hard enough," the way his voice quivers towards the end makes you want to cry. You lean onto his shoulder, and immediately, he caves into your touch and holds you, adjusting you so he can bury his face into the crook of your neck.

        Normally, you'd be embarrassed and blushing at this, but you allow yourself to coddle him- just this once. You aren't sure, but you can feel wetness on your shoulder, and your heart breaks for him again.

        The Goddess, however, can be lenient.

        Twice, you almost lost the man, but you're grateful that you never really had to let go of the man who had carved his way into your soul with his flames and swords.

        The first time he returned, he was almost unrecognizable, with soft, mint hair and eyes that glowed with anger as he takes out his fury on Solon, who had seemingly killed your professor. It was one of the few times he had raged like that, and it makes you want to never face against him in battle. You felt sorry for whoever had the misfortune of being his enemy.

        The second time he returned was five years after Edelgard declared war on the Church of Seiros, and you were convinced the man was invincible. 

        Byleth came into the monastery, light trailing his form and tickling his sea-foam colored hair. You almost thought he was an angel to come guide you into the afterlife  due to the wounds from your last battle. Did all angels have his smile? He breathes out your name like its a prayer, and you're frozen in place.

        "I'm glad you're here," he says, giving you a smile that finally reaches his eyes. 

        You can hardly breathe, and there's an interesting emotion bubbling in your throat. At first, you think it's because you're so happy to finally see the man you had loved for years again. He was safe, after all. At second glance, you realize the emotion is not happiness and is anger- pure fury, instead. In the past five years, you let your guilt build up, convinced Byleth was dead from the first battle of the war. You continued on, hiding your emotions from your friends and yourself. It surprised even yourself to know you were so angry at his return.

        "My tears!" you managed to bark out through the fire in your heart, jabbing your finger into his chest as his eyes widen and his expression turns puzzled. "Do you know how many tears I've wasted on you? And years! Five years, professor! I've spent so much time and tears, lamenting and grieving over you!"

        He's stunned and looks like a trapped rabbit at your uncharacteristic anger. "I'm sorry," he immediately says. "This is not how I expected things to go."

        You sniffle, and you're taken aback. Were you crying? You hadn't noticed through your hissing. The monastery is quiet, and you do your best to keep your breathing under control. His expression is kind of funny, actually.

        "Give it back," you finally manage to choke out when you've calmed down a little. "I want those tears back," you demand, putting your hand out expectantly, as if he could actually physically give them back to you.

        The jade-eyed man studies you for a moment before breaking into a smile, taking your hand, and pulling you into his chest, and this has unleashed more emotions into your chest. They're emotions you thought had been locked away, and you realize... even after five years, you still loved this man. He still had you. There's so much you want to say to him- so much you needed to catch him up on. You don't say anything, and you just shed a few more tears into his warm chest. After all, out of all the different feelings swirling in your heart, the most important emotion you feel is relief.

        You were glad the Goddess had kept your wish and kept him safe through all this time.

Chapter Text

        This... was horrifying.

        Your father tried to look proud, but you could see the pain and hesitance lingering in his eyes. Your mother had excused herself a few minutes ago, trying to let the information sink in. Your younger brother glanced at you warily, trying to gauge your reaction from the news the village chief had given you. You grasp the mug closer to your chest, trying to make sense of everything.

        A sacrifice? You were going to be a sacrifice?

        "I'm sorry, Chief Isne... I'm not quite sure I'm understanding this correctly." You try to study the middle-aged man's face for any clues of what in Fodlan he's talking about. He has aged quite a bit from the last time you saw him.

        He gives you a beaming grin- the one he had always given you whenever he read to you and the other village children years ago before you grew up. "Oh, it's a honor, really," he continues with a call of your name. "A maiden of age is often sacrificed every decade. Perhaps you were too young during the last sacrifice... you were eleven years old by then..." he scrunches his nose for a moment, trying to recall exactly how old you were. All you can remember from that time is a festival with lots of food and games, and it makes you feel a little sick when you realize it was for a poor girl's sacrifice.

        This is news to you. "You sacrifice someone every decade? Who was it last time?" for some strange reason, you're incredibly calm about your situation. The fireplace crackles, warming up the house from any frigid breezes the new year had brought. Would there be a festival thrown the day of your sacrifice as well? You didn't want to know, honestly.

        The village chief tells you a name that is vaguely familiar. You freeze, your heart dropping down to your stomach instead of the tea you had consumed moments before this conversation. "I thought she had gone off to marry into a noble house..." Never would you have guessed that she was sacrificed for the sake of the Goddess that watched over your village.

        "She was very privileged to have been chosen," he promises, eyes twinkling as he sets down his own cup of tea onto the coffee table. "The Goddess was very pleased that year... giving us bountiful harvests and rivers full of fish," he reminisces. "However, our supplies and field have gone dry, which reminded the counsel that it was due for another sacrifice."

        Your mouth feels awfully dry, and your tongue is frozen in place. "And so... I've been chosen to bring abundance to the village for the next decade."

        "Precisely! You are perhaps the best choice in the entire village. Educated, well behaved, talented, and beautiful," he praises and clasps his hands together. "Just exactly what the Goddess would want! Preparations begin tomorrow, but the ceremony will be two months from now, on the Goddess' birthday."

        He glances at the clock briefly. "If you have more questions, feel free to stop by my house anytime, my dear," he reassures you, but all you can hear is the rushing blood in your ears. He thanks your father before he departs, but you scurry to your room to lie down.

        Your younger brother, Ignatz, looks at your door in worry when you don't leave your room for the remainder of the night. In fact, you don't come out until a little before noon the next day, so he takes it upon himself to ask for help from one of your closest friends later that morning. You don't comment on your brother's disappearance that afternoon, and your parents don't mention it, trying to tiptoe around you, as if they were afraid you would shatter like glass. Your meal is quiet, and you can't bring yourself to form coherent words through mouthfuls of bland oatmeal.

        It's almost one in the afternoon when your ten year old brother returns, umber eyes wide and searching. "Oh! You're out of bed! Um, I have something to show you..." he twiddles his thumbs, looking up at you through his eyelashes.

        It's right then when your heart receives a stab of pain; in two months, you'd never be able to see this precious boy again. You'd never be able to see him grow up or pursue higher education or even art. "Show me," you request, not wanting to miss out on the remaining time you had with your only sibling.

        He's practically dragging you out of the house, and his little legs are sprinting as fast as they can. "Slow down, Ignatz," you manage to smile for the first time since hearing about your sacrifice. "You know I don't have as much energy as you do anymore!" though he was a small boy, he was quite energetic for his stature. You recognize the path he's taking as the route to a place only you, your brother, and a handful of other friends know about. In due time, the two of you reach your secret spot in the nearby woods that reveal a sizable meadow that has frost sprinkled throughout the field.

        You often went to the spot when you were younger and stressed about your studies. Now, you worked with your parents as a merchant, so it was rare you got to come back to the quaint base. The afternoon sun peaks out from the abundance of heavy clouds, hugs the greenery around you, promising warmth soon despite the cold puffs of air leaving your lips. Your village often didn't get snow, but it was always frigid during the winters, the frost tickling the grass as proof of that.

        "This never gets old," you admit out loud as you glance at the pistachio-haired boy next to you. He doesn't respond. "Ignatz?"

        Ignatz looks up at you, his warm caramel eyes brimmed with unshed tears. "Why do you have to go?" his voice is barely a whisper, but it evokes a surge of emotion to your chest. Before you know it, your eyes have begun to water, mirroring his. You crouch down, cradling his head as he sniffles into your shoulder.

        "...You can come here and think of me. You know I'll be here in spirit and heart," your promise sounds so cheesy, but thankfully it makes the young boy feel a little bit better. "Don't cry, Ignatz. You know your tears will freeze in this weather," you tease, wiping away the salty tears dripping down his chubby cheeks.

        He nods, though he shivers and shakes with sorrow. "I'm... okay..." he rubs his eyes and looks at you, trying to be strong. You really want to cry. "I still have something to show you."

        The boy digs around in his huge pockets for what seems to be an eternity. Who had bought him these pants? They looked huge on him! Finally, he pulls out a small box and gently places it into your hands. "I remembered Claude was going to be back today, and we got you a present."

        "You and what money? The allowance I give you or Claude's money?" you joke, ruffling his mushroom-like hair before pulling him into another hug. "Thank you... Let's open it together, okay?"

        The two of you open up the box to reveal a sweet, silver necklace with a dainty chain and a small, yet charming emerald pendant. It's enough to bring tears into your eyes again because you love this jewelry already. It must have cost him a few months' worth of allowance at the very least, and you're proud of your baby brother for saving his money only to spend it on you.

        "Will you help put it on?" you ask sweetly, and he nods vigorously, taking the necklace and trying to piece it together at the ends. He can't quite get it, but you can feel the warmth of another pair of hands taking the ends together.

        As soon as it's on, you stand back up and look behind you to see a set of amused eyes that perfectly match the emerald resting on your chest. "Oh, what'd'ya know? I knew it would suit you, and it looks like we were right, huh, Ignatz?" the owner of the verdant gaze checks, resting his hands behind his head, showing off that broad chest of his. You can feel his gaze sweep over your form, and you give him a look.

        "Claude helped picked it out!" Ignatz says excitedly. "You look very pretty!"

        "No, little man, you did all the work. You even paid for it yourself, right? I just helped you haggle down the price, that's all," Claude chuckles before reaching a hand down to ruffle his adopted sister's head of rose-colored hair. "You're lucky to have a sibling who will do that for you, (Name). I bet this twerp would never do that for me," he jokes, looking at the youngster, who has scooted closer to you by now.

        The young girl by his side frowns and swats his hand away. "Stop! I'm telling Mom!" Hilda whines as she clings to your hand. "The necklace is so pretty, though! You always look really good." She says honestly.

        You give her a warm smile. "Thank you, Hilda!"

        He snorts. "Yeah, you do that. Why don't you show Ignatz the new game you got? I know you've been wanting to show him, right? I mean," he turns to look at you, eyes rolled. "She hasn't been sitting still since we got back from Almyra. I swear, all she did was wriggle around on the horse."

        You laugh, genuinely. "I can imagine. Alright, you two. It's getting cold out here, and I know Mom will make hot chocolate if you ask nicely, Ignatz. That way, you guys can play together with some cocoa right by the fireplace. Sounds nice, right?" you ask, knowing the children would love that idea.

        They nod enthusiastically before running off, leaving you alone with one of your closest friends. "I almost forgot you came back this morning until Ignatz told me," you admitted, once both your baby siblings were out of sight.

        "I'm glad to know I mean that much to you..." he replies sarcastically, though he's digging around in his backpack to bring out a blanket. He wraps it around the two of you, and it already warms you up in the biting air. "You said it yourself. It is getting cold, and the genius that I am planned ahead to keep us warm."

        "Yeah, like I would even stay long enough," you snort. "Even ten minutes with you drives me crazy." You don't move, though. The blanket helps insulate you even further and is trapping your and Claude's body heat. In fact, he's very close to you right now.

        He arches a dark eyebrow, eyes darting over your expression.. "In a good way, I'm willing to bet. At least Ignatz is willing to see me as soon as I step foot back into the village. Imagine coming back from a long trip, and your best friend doesn't even want to see you!"

        You scoff, wanting to shove him away. You don't; he's too warm. "You're so dramatic, you know that? I didn't know you were so close to my little brother..."

        "Uh, you mean the same way you're close to my little sister? I mean, I heard you gave her a makeover with some of your old clothes a few months ago..." He rolls his eyes. "Ignatz and I have gotten close this year. We gossip a lot, really. Mostly about you, though."

        Gossip about you? Oh. Oh. Knowing your brother, he must have blabbered to your friend about what had happened last night. How else is a young boy supposed to deal with his trauma? Of course he assumed Claude would know what to do, and judging by the piercing look the man in front of you is giving you, you know he must have brought you out here to discuss what had happened.

        You bite your lip, knowing what's coming next as you realized he lured you out into the woods and trapping you within this blanket. "Oh, you are so sly," you accuse him, knowing now he must have bought his sister a gift to distract your brother and get you alone away from the prying eyes of your family. "I think I know where this is headed."

        "Come on, kitten, I haven't even said anything." He gives you the best puppy eyes he can, but you can see straight through this mischievous bastard. "Well, you've always been clever. I'm glad I caught you now when you're at your most vulnerable."

        You aren't sure when it happened, but his hands are on your hips, and you can feel his breath leave clouds of air on the top of your cheeks. "I'm not... You're wrong, Claude."

        He hummed. "I'm wrong about a lot of things... but I know you. I mean, how long have we been friends? I know what you're thinking around ninety percent of the time."

        You almost scoff at that. Friends? You were "friends," sure, but in your opinion, your friendship had never reverted back into its platonic state almost a year ago when the two of you made out in his room when his family was out for dinner. It was something the two of you had never talked about, but it was always in the back of your mind every time you saw him.

        "Can you believe it?" he rests his chin on the top of your head, and you're acutely aware of how good he smells. He must have showered after his trip. "Ten years of friendship ending... because you're being used as bait for a Goddess to bring us food. The Goddess can be a bitch, anyways."

        "Chief Isne would have your head if he heard you say that," you warn, and he chuckles, a warm vibration against your cheek resting on his chest. Goddess, you missed him so much. "Well, unless if I have your head first. Two and a half months? Leave me alone that long again, and you'll wish it was the chief who ended you," you huff.

        "C'mon, angel, it was only because there was stuff going on at home in Almyra... But if I have to be honest, the Goddess is a bitch when she wants to be."

        "Claude."

        "Seriously. Who does she think she is? Taking you away from me? And right when I come back to you. If it were up to me, I would just go and be sacrificed along with you," he sighs, his grip on your hips growing tighter, and you can feel your heartbeat start to pick up. You hope he can't feel it.

        "Claude, you and I both know you would never do that."

        He laughs. "Very true. I was seeing if that would help you feel better." He grows quiet quickly, and all that's left is a low whistle of the breeze dancing around the two of you and the rapid thump thump thump of your heartbeat.

        You don't realize you're even crying until you feel something drip down to your chin. "How are you so calm about this?" you ask, your voice barely louder than the wind around you. "I-I can't. I don't want to be a sacrifice like some prized boar-!"

        He shushes you with a quick press of his lips against your forehead. "One of us has to be calm. And I know it's not going to be you. I won't leave you alone."

        Your sobs are a little louder, a little heavier, and you don't want to let go of him. Your toes are freezing, but you were damned if you let go of this man to go back inside. His scent is more comforting than you had ever imagined, and the rubbing against your back is urging the cries out of you in the middle of the meadow where no one can hear you. You're lucky to have him by your side, helping you experience things before your scheduled death.

        The Goddess' birthday comes too soon, and you wake up that morning having dreamt of Claude. You want nothing more than to run away with him and have him hold you by the bottom of your thighs as he kissed you relentlessly like he did in your dream last night.

        Realistically, you know someone else would be sacrificed regardless, and you don't want to push the responsibility and horror of getting sacrificed onto an unknowing girl who would hardly have any time to cope with the event- not when the girls should be celebrating at the festival tonight. Something gets caught in your throat at the thought of the festival. When you were rotting away, strapped to a tree in front of her hidden shrine in the woods, people would essentially be celebrating your upcoming death. It makes you rush to your bathroom, but nothing comes out of your mouth since you had forgotten to eat dinner the previous night.

        By the time the village chief had come to pick you up, Claude was no where in sight. Ignatz is jumpy and worried as soon as Chief Isne comes to your home, and you want to plead for him to wait just a few minutes longer. The look in the chief's eyes makes you cower when you ask, and you drop the topic altogether.

        Your parents say their goodbyes, your mother weeping into your shoulder as she praises and dotes on you for the last time in your life. Your father, although usually stoic, has shed a few tears and admitted how proud of you he was. Ignatz shares one last, emotional hug, but all three of them are forbidden to go with you to the shrine, something that makes you feel even sicker than you had felt this morning.

        You aren't sure how long your wrists have been strapped to the tree for. The sun was starting to set, and you can hear the noises of the wild animals in the forest start to die down. The frost accumulating on the rope worries you; would you even survive past the night? Your feet are freezing, and you can hardly feel your nose anymore.

        Little by little, the sun goes further down into its slumber, leaving you with the bitter embrace of the cold that haunts you like a ghoul. It's so cold that you've forgotten the howling hunger in your stomach; all you can focus on is struggling to stay awake. The moment you fall asleep may be the moment death snatches you up. Would this have been different if you were sacrificed in summer instead of late winter?

        The hunger and chills have started making you feel crazed. The leaves twirling in the late winter wind look like ghosts, and the twigs on the ground look like skeleton hands. In fact, the moon is starting to look like a Goddess with silvery hair and lilac eyes.

        "So they've brought me another one?"

        You blink wearily.

        "Are you tired, little one? It must have been cold out here..." she stretches out her hands to untie you from the trees. Ah. So the Goddess has come to claim you after all.... The ropes fall off immediately, and you glance at the raw skin on your wrists, though you feel no pain. The cold has numbed your body that you can hardly feel anything.

        "I'm sorry you had to stay out here for so long, but I don't want you. I don't know why your village insists on leaving sacrifices," her dainty nose twists up in disgust at the word. "I am not a monster; who do they take me for? Well, I would usually let the sacrifices go at this point..."

        You look at her. "The village is expecting me to pass tonight. I don't think they'd believe me if they heard I was just set free... if I came back, it would surely..."

        She nods in understanding, her Chantilly skin glowing like a blanket of fresh fallen snow. "Ah, the previous maidens have said something similar. I have helped them escape to villages on the other side of Fodlan... but I do not think I can do that for you."

        Your heart drops. So you were going to be used as a sacrifice? You didn't understand, but she gives you one last reassuring smile. "Do not fret, little one. I am merely handing you to my colleague. He will not harm you, and he has actually offered to help you in my stead."

        "Colleague?" you echo. "Like..."

        "Another God, yes. Though he does not rule over Fodlan like I," she explains. "Ah, he's arrived. Take care, little one." She bids you farewell with a gentle caress, your hands immediately warming up at her touch.

        You look the way she was glancing towards, and like she had said, a glowing figure approaches you, his hair as soft as the blanket Claude had draped over you that one night. Like the Fodlan Goddess, his lightly tanned skin glows as if strands of gold embedded his skin. His entire attire seems to be composed of gold and silk, and you wonder if Gods can grow cold since his clothes seem to hardly offer any warmth.

        "I told you I wouldn't leave you, right?"

        You blink once. Twice. "...Claude?"

        He kneels down in front of you, catching your cold form in his strong arms. "You sound surprised. Though, I guess this isn't the easiest thing to accept." He runs the pad of his thumb over your cheeks, and you feel yourself warming up in his embrace. "You must be cold..."

        Your eyes water at the sight in front of you. "You're a god? You didn't come earlier today... I was waiting..." 

        He offers you a charming smile. "I had to make an excuse why I was leaving the village forever. It took all day! Otherwise I would have come seen you earlier. Then again, I guess it would ruin the surprise. If I saw you earlier today, I know I would have spilled everything about me being... well, this," he motions to his body.

        "So then why didn't you tell me earlier? You could have pulled me out of this mess!" you demand, wanting to know answers. He could have helped you before?

        Claude leans down to kiss your nose sweetly. "Cause then you would have been way too excited for your sacrifice, and I know you're horrible at acting. Gotta keep it raw so they don't have any suspicions... Though I doubt Isne would believe this at all." Your glare shuts him up. "I'm sorry, doll. I swear I would have come faster, but the village had other plans."

        You shake your head, knowing you've already forgiven him at this point. "I... now what happens?" you've lost your home and your possessions- there was no way you could show your face in the village now, and the Goddess had said her colleague, apparently Claude, would help you.

        "This," he replies as he pulls the jacket you're wearing away from your body. "We'll give them some evidence for your death." Immediately, the cold air gnaws at your body, but the handsome god in front of you holds you closer before giving you a long, sweet kiss- the kind you had been longing in your dreams about him every other night.

        His hands travel down south towards your thighs as he grips you a little harder, kissing you with more fervor once you've laced his hair through your fingers. It's almost nostalgic and leaves you wanting more when he pulls away.

        "We'll also be going to Almyra, kitten."

        "Excuse me, what?"

Chapter Text

        The lands of Fodlan had quieted down shortly after the most recent war. You knew the leaders among the continent had fought and spilled a plethora of buckets, all filled with ruby red blood for the sake of delusion and their so-called "justice." All of it reeked of lies, betrayal, and heartbreak to you.

        As one of the youngest Dark Knights in the Empire's army, you had been consistently sent to the rearguard in regards to your inexperience and your general's hesitance to send you to a painful death. Regardless of where you were located, you companions and allies had suffered the same fate as many of the knights during the war- demise.

        You were in the rearguard. How had the Alliance knights managed to breakthrough the barricade of well-seasoned warriors in the vanguard like they were made of paper? Have all your seniors survived? Would you even live after the battle? By some miracle granted by the Goddess, you made it out, barely unscathed as your general's right hand man, seeing as the commander had perished in battle, ordered your troops to retreat.

        This war ended the power of the Empire, which had consistently ruled the majority of Fodlan for over a century now. After the Alliance had claimed dominance over the continent, you were surprised to realize that not much changed in your daily life. You were able to continue as a knight and lead your own portion of the militia as the years went on by, but nothing could shake the horrors you had faced as a barely-legal adult back then.

        Nevertheless, the current reigning couple of the Empire had grown quite fond of your service and company and often requested your assistance whenever you were needed. You had just been given a new duty, and you can hear the quite clanking of your armor as you traverse down the castle halls, walking through a path you had memorized after years and years of staying in the palace.

        Dazed, you try to make it to the stables, planning on embarking on your journey as soon as possible. The king had asked you to get rid of a dragon- a dragon! Needless to say, you had never seen or heard of one in Fodlan, out of all places. Apart from the Four Saints, of course, but you were sure you wouldn't be battling anything that old- if they were even still around. From your readings back at Garreg Mach, you knew there was a group of humans in faraway lands that worship dragons- hell, you've even read about dragon-human shapeshifters! Here, the closest thing you could find was probably a wyvern, but you could hardly call it a proper dragon.

        And to top it off, he had asked you to get rid of the dragon by yourself! Apparently he either trusted your skills enough to force you to go alone, or he really despised you and wanted to kill you by sending you off to the dragon. No matter your fate, all you could do was get your horse and head for the western part of the Empire was, where a mountain met the forest. Apparently the creature had been snagging girls from the villages to the west, and you were to stop the disappearances.

        "(Name)! I heard about the task the king has given you!" you look to your left to see a girl, with hair the color of green apples, waving to you frantically as she approached your armor-clad form. "I wish I could go... but I've packed some supplies you'll need! The queen asked me to fetch everything for you!"

        You take the bag she had offered to you. At least that was one less thing to worry about. "Thank you, Flayn! I'm sure it would be more than useful to keep you by my side, but the king requested I go alone... It's suicide, really," you joke, though you know there's truth to that phrase. Oh, Goddess... if you really ended up dying...

        Flayn frowns. "You can't think like that!" she protests, her matching eyes flaring with disapproval. "I know you'll make it back! But... just promise to be careful. Dragons," she shudders for a moment, her eyes glossing over as if she was remembering something horrible, "can be quite unforgiving sometimes."

        You approach your mare, stroking her soothingly as you dressed her up in proper equipment. "Like you've seen many in your lifetime, right?" you teased.

        "Just a few," she laughs. "One of them being big bro Seteth, of course!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        Despite being late winter, you were greeted with warmth at the foot of the mountain as soon as you led your horse from the woods. You have heard of an eternal flame that fueled the mountain, and you didn't doubt the legend, considering that you would be able to shed a few layers in this warmth. Perhaps that was what lured the dragon here in the first place? The trip had taken a bit longer than you has originally anticipated, but you were glad to extend the battle with the dragon a little longer.

        "There will be a cave nearby when you leave the forests." The king's words boom inside your head, and you grimace. It would be a tough battle inside a cave- there'd hardly be any room to mount your horse. Should you leave her outside for the time being and allow her to escape if you got eaten or burned alive by the dragon? Upon spotting the crack in the mountain big enough for a dragon to come in and out of, you opted to leave her here. You'd have to rely on your stealth and skills for now.

        You shake your head and slap your hands across your face. No! You couldn't think like this. No matter how perilous the battle against a dragon would be, you were smart and strong. You'd make it out alive to see tomorrow's dawn and twilight, and you were damned if some dragon were to defeat you now. You unsheathed your sword in one hand and carried your magic in the other, ready to strike as you stepped into the ominous and rumbling cave.

        It's even warmer inside, and beads of sweat pool on your forehead. You make no movement to wipe it off, certain that the dragon was sensitive enough to movement or sound.

        There you saw it- much larger than the wyverns you saw on a daily basis. Even in the darkness of the cave, you could still see how magnificent and regal it looked- never had you thought a dragon would look so... noble. Its scales gleamed like sunlight passing through dew drops in the early mornings. Though your footsteps were slow and gentle against the cold ground, the dragon's eyes snapped open, revealing irises that resembled honey; however, its gaze was anything but sweet. Its pupils were thin slits, making you freeze in place, as if you had been paralyzed.

        It let out a loud rumble, and you could feel it vibrate every last bone in your body. You can hear the sounds of your horse neighing and galloping away in fear. Goddess, damn it! How could you escape now? By the time you reached the end of the cave, surely the dragon would attack you before you could step outside. Despite the heat in the cave, you feel goosebumps dance across your skin as your blood runs frigid with fear.

        This was it. The dragon was going to burn you into ashes with its scorching fire and stomp you into the ground when it was done. You assumed a stance, prepared to suffer the consequences of coming here without any soldiers to back you up.

        It never came.

        "Goodness, I'm sorry! I didn't expect to have company today." Did the dragon just speak to you? You open your eyes, expecting to see the orange lizard, but instead you're met with a rather attractive man with sunset gold hair that reached the top of his chest. He extends a hand out to you to help you up, but you can't help but gawk at his elegant nose and perfectly angled jaw.

        Hesitant, you take it gingerly, and his hand is oddly rough for a man with such delicate and gentle features. "Um..."

        "It's been quite a while since I've seen a human. I hardly ever leave my cave," he admits, chuckling. "Most of my kind tend to stray away from them, and perhaps I'm no exception as of recently..." he dusts off his outfit, which looks rather expensive and something that someone of royal blood would wear.

        You gape at him for a moment. "You're the dragon?" was that even possible?

        "Manakete," he corrects. "Well, I was cursed into one by a dragon I had upset in my youth..." Ah, so he was a form of a shapeshifter.... still, you had no doubt that he was powerful enough to end your life with a flick of his wrist.

        "You're... not going to kill me?" you ask, your voice skeptical. Your hand was still clutching onto your sword, although your palms have grown sweaty, and you're certain it'll slip from your grasp at any moment. "Th-the girls you've snatched from the villages...!"

        "Excuse me?" he retorts, amber eyes flashing with indignance and upper lip curling slightly with disgust. "I do not snatch girls away! That would be improper and unsuited for someone as noble as I." His arms are crossed, and the Manakete looks peeved.

        You eye him for a few moments before sheathing your sword when you conclude that he wouldn't be a threat to your safety. Nevertheless, your heart is racing, and your blood dances with adrenaline in case if he does decide to do something funny. "Then where have all the girls in the neighboring villages gone?"

        "Fair maiden," your eye twitches at this. You were a warrior, bred and raised for battle. "I have been in this cave, hiding from humanity for the past decade now. I'm afraid I do not have answers for you. Perhaps you should look for them elsewhere? I'm sure you have places to be, after all." 

        You shake your head. "No... I've been told that the dragon-"

        "-Manakete, my dear," he corrects once more as he adjusts his mane of golden hair. He really was quite elegant, and you have to admit you haven't seen many beings apart from humans who could speak Fodlan's national language.

        You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the handsome man. "I've been told that the Manakete has been stealing and eating these girls. I cannot go back to the king empty handed or without results!"

        The Manakete looks incredibly displeased. "I shall assure you that I would never do such a thing. If you are that worried, I know the villages have been having trouble with Dark Mages, from the last time I left my cave. It could be worthwhile to look into them."

        Dark Mages? You heard of some sneaky figures in the Empire after the war, and you wouldn't be surprised if they had been snatching girls left and right for research or experiments or something else just as inhumane and traumatizing. Maybe if you were able to capture them, you could bring them back to the king...

        "That's it," you say slowly as you realize what your next move must be. "We can go to the closest village and ask about anything suspicious. We should go now, before the sun sets." It was almost perfect- you wouldn't be killed by a dragon, and the king would be pleased upon you solving the mystery of the missing girls.

        His face twists in confusion, brows furrowing together. "We? I'm afraid I won't be able to assist you in your endeavors, I-"

        You shut him up with a glare. "You were the one who scared away my horse! Had I not been forced to deal with you, I would still have a means of getting back to the capital or any village at all!"

        "My dear, I still do not see how I would be able to help you at all..." his voice was hesitant, clearly taken aback by your outburst. "I do not even know your name! How rude of me..."

        "Oh, right," you realize, apologizing after you tell him your name. "And yours?"

        "Hmm..." he tests your name on his tongue. "Foreign, perhaps? Anyways, my name is Ferdinand von Aegir, former heir to House Aegir more than two centuries ago."

        You didn't know Manaketes could live for that long. "I see," you respond. House Aegir... it had once been a prominent house, full of power, but now it was starting to lose its influence in the kingdom. "Right. We'd better get going. It'd be easy if you could take me to the village."

        "Take you to the...? Do you mean that you would be riding on me?" Ferdinand's face immediately explodes into a bright pink flush, and he coughs into his elbow, trying to cover his rosy cheeks. "I don't think that's proper- I mean, I've never had someone so beautiful on my back, and I don't usually like showing my draconian form to humans..."

        Your mouth runs dry at his compliment, and you can feel your cheeks mirroring his into a blush. "I-It'll be fine!" you insist, tugging on his elbow. "What does beauty have to do with that?"

        "It's quite embarrassing, I'll have you know... And what if I drop you? Goddess, forbid," he frowns, eyes lighting up with mild panic at the thought. "Those rumors about me would only get worse if the civilians saw me drop such a rose from the skies! It would be unfitting! I must keep up my noble reputation! And to hear such baseless rumors-"

        You scoff at this. "What reputation? You don't have any, considering you haven't left your cave in a decade! How are you expected to keep up with your social skills like this?" the sunset-eyed man's lips turn into a deeper frown at this. "Think about it... You help me find the culprit of whoever is taking away the village girls, and people will start to think about you in a better light!"

        The Manakete is quiet. "I suppose... that does make sense. Alright. I will help you, but on only one condition!"

        This got interesting. You had more or less expected him to be a pushover, and you weren't anticipating anything more, considering this deal would already benefit him. "Okay," you drawl out slowly, deciding to entertain him. "What is it?"

        "Bear my children!"

        "What?!" you cry out, gaping at the flame-haired male in front of you. "Are you nuts? I'm not going to have your freaking dragon babies!" he gives you a look. "Okay, I'm not going to give you your Manakete babies. I'm a knight; I don't have time for children!"

        He massages the bridge of his nose. "Let me break this down for you. I'm sure House Aegir is suffering by now without my presence." You half-doubted this but allowed him to proceed, nonetheless. "And having a Manakete in the bloodline would surely benefit the family since I am quite powerful. The noblewomen had been afraid of me years ago when I was first cursed into this form, but you have accepted me with relative ease!"

        "Okay, I'm sorry I've been jaded by war? Frankly, this doesn't scare me too much compared to seeing my comrades die, Ferdinand. Regardless, that is too demanding of a request- House Aegir might not even let you back in!" you argue. What in the world was he thinking?

        It appears as though he hasn't heard you. "(Name) von Aegir... how suiting. Very well, let us embark immediately!"

        "Wait, damn it! I still never said I would have your kids!"

Chapter Text

        "Sylvain, no!"

        Immediately after the words leave your lips, you see your eldest son accidentally stumble as he trips in the backyard. The ice cold lemonade he had been holding spills all over onto your youngest child, Felix, who lets out a shriek of discomfort at the feeling of the liquid running down his back. You had just gotten him dressed, too...

        You scurry over to help the six year old onto his feet while glancing at poor toddler Felix before reaching out to your son. "Felix, baby, are you okay?"

        The raven-haired male shakes his head "no" rapidly, tears forming in his sunset colored eyes. "C-cold..." he manages to croak out as he runs into your arms. "Sylvie's so mean!" Oh boy, here it comes.

        "Don't be a crybaby," Sylvain sneers, sticking his tongue out at his younger brother. You give him a pointed look that shuts up your firstborn; though he could be mean when he wanted, you knew the boy was good at heart and always caring for each of his siblings. Felix just starts crying harder, and you rub his back soothingly to get him to stop.

        "He didn't mean to do it, Felix," you coo reassuringly as the small child sobs into your shoulder. "Look, Sylvain is getting ready to apologize to you!" you glance over to the flame-haired boy who sighs loudly.

        "I'm sorry, Felix! I'll give you my milk bread if you want," your eldest son apologizes, crawling over to the two of you. All you can think of was the grass and dirt building on his knees, and you'll have to clean them up after they make up. "It was an accident. You're still a crybaby, though. Stop hogging Mom all to yourself!" he whines, clinging onto your neck. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Surprisingly, his apology manages to quell Felix's tears- it was an odd relationship they had, though you were lucky they got along so well.

        "No," Felix stubbornly says, trying to push off his older brother. "She was hugging me!" he glares at his older brother while resting the side of his face on your heart. "But I'll still take your milk bread..."

        "That's not being fair, Felix! You can't be selfish," Sylvain scolds, clutching onto you harder as you sigh, trying to stifle your giggles. You secretly loved it when your boys fought over your attention.

        "Both of you should grow up," a new voices complains. All three of you look over to see your middle child, Ingrid, and the only one with an ounce of common sense. Out of the three, you knew she would end up getting into her dream university, Garreg Mach University, eventually. What five year old even thought about higher education?

        Sylvain pulls down his lower eyelid to mock his younger sister. "You wouldn't get it, Ingrid! It's a guy thing! Look, even Felix is manning up now, right?" he nudges his younger brother.

        Though still slightly teary-eyed, the ink-haired child sniffles and wipes away his tears harshly with the back of his hand. "Y-yeah. I'm a big boy! I'm four now!" he immediately brags about his birthday the past weekend. "I'm not gonna cry anymore!"

        "You said that two weeks ago," Ingrid points out, arching a blonde eyebrow. "Anyways, Papa told me that he needs your help in the kitchen. Something about the meat for the barbecue..."

        A sigh escapes your lips, though it's a genuine one this time. You knew Dimitri couldn't be trusted in the kitchen, even if he wasn't cooking. Thankfully, he would be on grill duty for the barbecue, which is the only thing he can do. "Alright. Kids, go get cleaned up. I'll go see what your father wants. You two better help Felix, or I'll take away your books and games!" you warn, gently removing your sons' grasp on you to head back into the house you and your husband had bought a few years before Sylvain was born.

        Ingrid squeaks at the warning, and even Sylvain's eyes flash briefly with worry. "Don't worry, Mom! I'll get it taken care of," Sylvain promises, a toothy grin plastered over his cute face.

        Felix frowns, a deep scowl already forming on his face. "I can do it myself!"

        "Yeah, right!" Ingrid scoffs, crossing her arms. "You put your shirt on backwards this morning!"

        Not wanting to hear your troublesome miracles bicker anymore, you open the back door to walk into the kitchen, where your tall and still incredibly handsome husband stood. The noises of your kids quarreling are cancelled by the shutting of the door, but you can see them animatedly flail around in the backyard through the glass door. 

        "Dimitri," you greet him with a warm smile, and he heads over to give you an embrace, though your husband falters at the sight of your piercing, cold gaze. "You know they get it from you, right?"

        He laughs nervously, azure eyes sparkling as he rubs the back of his head sheepishly. "I'm sure they do... but must I say you always look so sweet next to our little ones," he kisses the top of your head. "I've been thinking, though... should we really cook all of this for the barbecue?"

        You look at him expectantly. "Darling, we have the rest of your friends and their families coming in half an hour. You and I both know you'll be the reason why half of the food disappears! Not to mention, I think Ingrid is going through her first growth spurt... Have you seen how much she's been inhaling her dinners recently?"

        He stops to think for a moment, his blonde locks falling into his eyes as he does so. "Perhaps you're right... I'm just worried we won't have much to eat tomorrow... And with another child on the way... I don't want to risk not feeding you tomorrow, and then you'll grow weak, and the baby will-" he babbles, but you cut him off with a swift kiss- or as best as you can reach with his massive height.

        "My love, we can always go out to eat if we need to. You're worrying more than I am!" you joke, though this is nothing new to you. Every time you have a new child, your husband has been increasingly doting and worried to the point that you were convinced he was the one having the child. He's always been quite protective and loving, but to see it multiplied in effect is a little nostalgic to you after four years of not being pregnant.

        His shoulders relax immediately, and you can feel his breath on your lips. "...You're right. I just can't help it," he confesses, smiling shyly. "How can I not worry about you?" he murmurs, bringing you into his arms. "If I ever lost you..."

        You shut him up again. "You won't, Dimitri." You know exactly what he's referring to. As a child, your husband never knew his mother apart from pictures and stories your father-in-law, the former CEO of a business firm that Dimitri had inherited, would tell him. His mother died shortly after childbirth, and Dimitri was always wary something similar would happen to you.

        He's quiet for a moment but he offers you one of his charming and sweet smiles that had captured your heart years ago in Chemistry before giving you a gentle kiss.

        "Mom! Look what- oh, ew..."

        The two of you snap away from each other's faces to look at a grimacing Sylvain. "Don't do that in the kitchen!" Ingrid looks horrified. "This is where we cook our food! We made milk bread there last night!" her voice is nearing a screech. Note to self; never separate this girl from her food.

        You conclude that it's best for her to not know that kissing is not the only thing you and your husband have done in this kitchen. "Where's Felix?"

        Sylvain clears his throat. "Check out... our master piece!" he exclaims as he and his sister pose, motioning to the entrance of the hallway, where your youngest child pops out, posing as well.

        "Ta-dah!" they all yell, and Felix looks especially proud of his new outfit, donned in black and white. "I picked it myself, Mommy!" he says excitedly. "I even put my pants on without their help!"

        You clap your hands together, almost squealing from how cute your kids were. Even if they inherited Dimitri's chaotic neutral personality, you were lucky that your kids were so adorable. "Oh, so handsome!" you coo, leaning down to kiss each of them on their cheeks. "Sylvain, I'm glad you're so happy to help your brother, but I have to let you know that your knees are still dirty from earlier."

        "Pssh, it's okay! We're going into the pool later, anyways," he laughs before freezing. "On second thought, I guess I better go wipe this off, bye!" you look behind you to see your husband giving your eldest child the Dad Stare.

        You're sure he hadn't meant to look that terrifying, but you and your kids briefly freeze into place. "Dimitri, babe, your RBF," you mention, nudging him towards your kids.

        "Oh!" his expression relaxes immediately. "You all did splendid," he praises, scooping up both kids with no problem at all as the two remaining children, who cheer and giggle as their father bring them both into the air. "Very nice colors, Ingrid. And you're already growing up so fast, Felix!"

        "Just wait until they get into middle school," you joke, taking some of the food to set outside since your guests would be arriving shortly. Immediately, he sets the children down and takes the food in your hands. 

        "Let's help your mother get everything outside, okay? She's not feeling too well," Dimitri suggests gently, though he's managed to take most of the groceries into his arms, leaving only a few lighter bags for the kids to carry.

        You roll your eyes. "Oh, you act like I'm sick or something," you grumble, snagging a bag from his grasp. "I think I can handle carrying some onions and mushrooms to the grill."

        "Mom, you're still not feeling well?" Sylvain asks, knees now clean and milky. He takes the bag from your hands immediately. "Dad's right; if you aren't feeling so good, just let us do the hard work!" there's that toothy grin again that warms your heart.

        "Look, I can help too!" Felix holds up his grocery bag. "Daddy and I will cook all the meat for you! You can get extra! And Ingrid too! As long as she gives me her milk bread..." there's a devious, crooked smile on his lips.

        "You're already eating yours and Sylvain's! You fatty!"

        "You're a fatty! Fatty Ingrid! You eat more than me!" Felix frowns.

        Dimitri, already having started the grill, receives the food from his kids, and places different meats onto the grill, which lets out a delicious medley of sizzling and hisses as the heat and charcoal kiss the hot dogs and ribs. "Well, she's not sick. She's just got a bun in the oven," he hums, looking over to you as if to say "it's time for them to know." You roll your eyes but let him continue, knowing your clever kids would figure out sooner or later when your belly became a little fuller.

        Ingrid's emerald eyes light up with delight. "There's more milk bread in the oven? Why didn't you say so? When is it done cooking?"

        "I didn't know! I thought I was going to have to skip on my milk bread today!" Sylvain cries in relief, clearly happy about the thought of not having to give up the remainder of his treat from last night. "I'm so glad you're not sick, though." He goes in to embrace your leg.

        "No, dears," you laugh. "It's just an expression. There's a bun," you motion with your arms to show you cradling something. "In the oven," you finish off by patting your belly.

        The children are quiet, eyebrows furrowing as they try to figure out what you mean. You can see their minds reeling and sparking with different ideas. You're sure at least clever Ingrid would get it-

        "You ATE our milk bread, Mommy?! Why would you do that?!" Ingrid is beyond horrified, and even Dimitri can't help but roar in laughter at this.

        "No, stupid, she's having another baby," Sylvain rolls his eyes. "Sheesh, and they say you're the smart one. I guess you're pretty dumb when all you do is think about food!"

        Dimitri has finished cooking what was on the grill. Before he returns to it, he manages to lift all three of your kids in his strong arms. "Aren't you three excited? Felix, you won't be the youngest one anymore!" he points out, eyes gleaming with excitement and pride.

        "Hooray!" Felix throws his arms up happily. You can finally start to smell the meat your husband has grilled, and you can sense the beginnings of your cravings start to form as the scent gets stronger and stronger.

        "Man, there's gonna be another one?" Sylvain jokingly complains. "Let's name the baby Bob!"

        "No!" Ingrid protests, narrowing her round eyes. "Susie! Like our cat! Or name it Cat!"

        Felix scoffs. "Our cat will be cuter than any baby! Pick another name! Like Felix Number Two!"

        "Oh, you three are ridiculous," Dimitri smiles. "We'll let you know about what name we end up picking, but go ahead and start eating or keep an eye out for Uncle Dedue and Uncle Ashe."

        "Oh, yeah! Mercedes and Annette can swim now, right? We should show them the new pool float we got!" Sylvain wriggles out of his father grasp. Felix immediately follows, wanting to be like his elder brother. Ingrid, on the other hand, gracefully hops down and follows her brothers to the front yard.

        You glance at your husband. "There'll be more chaos in this house now..."

        He returns to the grill, gently tugging you along with him. "Perhaps we'll need more space? We could renovate or move..."

        "Who's fault is this again? Oh, yes," you remember, mockingly snapping your fingers in recognition. "Yours, for getting me pregnant... four times now! Dimitri, do you not know what a condom is?"

        His face heats up as red as the flaming charcoals in front of him. "My love, please! Not so loud..." he groans, flipping the meat over. "But if you insist... maybe I should get you pregnant five times then." You knew he wasn't joking; he had always wanted a big family, after all.

        You wrinkle your nose. "Heavens, no! I know the baby hormones are going to drive me crazy, and I don't want to have to do this one more time. Four is all you're getting from me, mister!"

        Dimitri sets aside the spatula and brings you in closer to him. "That's plenty enough for me."

Chapter Text

        "The Wild Area again?"

        Your eyes light up at the sound of his voice. "Oh, I was wondering when you were going to come by!"

        Your newest rival, Felix, scowls deeply at you, his red-orange eyes flaring in annoyance. "What? Now you've come to just expect me? Like some kind of pet?" he barks at you, palming one of the Pokeballs hanging off his belt. All he wanted to do was battle you to see how strong the two of you have gotten.

        You shake your head. "Not at all! You came right in time. Want some?" you motion to the pot of curry in front of you as you stir the contents to keep your food from burning. "It's spicy coconut! One of your favorites, right? I was battling with Dimitri the other night, and he told me-"

        "The Emboar Prince? Why the hell would you battle with him? He'll just lose!" his eyes flash with fury.

        "That's nice. Anyways, it's supposed to get colder tonight, so you should really warm up with a bowl," you mention, pouring some bowls for your Pokemon, who are happily playing around your tent a few meters away as the sun slowly starts to depart, leaving its soft amber hues in its disappearance.

        Once you pour some food for your furry babies, you immediately scoop another bowl for him. "I've got some bread for you to eat it with, too. Come on, Felix. It'll get cold soon," you encourage, patting the spot of grass next to you as you hold up the bowl.

        You know he's still tender from your last match when you won, which was when he started finally acknowledging you as his rival. You hardly ever won against him- hell, hardly anyone won against him, so you know it's a big deal for him to have a valid rival. His pride must have been hurt, and the most you can offer is some dinner and a warm tent to stay in as he trains in the Wild Area for the next gym battle.

        Wordlessly, the dark-haired male snatches the bowl from you and sits down in the spot, much to your delight. He has to admit, your cooking is always delicious, and his mouth is watering from the sweet and spicy scent of the curry in the warm bowl. "...It's good," he finally says, through a mouthful of bread and curry.

        "Isn't it?" you agree, helping yourself to a heaping serving of your curry. "I think it's even better than last time! We oughta do this after every gym match," you suggest, batting your eyelashes at the ever-frowning rival.

        "Tch," he snorts. "You hardly made it through the last one. Bea won't be as easy as Kabu was."

        You scoop another spoonful into your mouth. "You thought he was easy? No way! I guess you're stronger than me after all..." you admit. "Mmm, I'm gonna have to get some more- hey! Lucario! You can't eat that! I was gonna save that for later!"

        As you fight for the ladle from your starter Pokemon, Felix can't help but watch you with a small frown. He hated it when you thought you were stronger than him, but he also hated when you downplayed your strength. Dammit, he recognized you as his rival, so it was almost like you were invalidating him whenever you did! You had actually managed to defeat his well-balanced team a few times, unlike his childhood friends.

        Whatever. Whether you made it through the League challenge was your problem, not his.

        The next time he sees you, you're fawning over some dumb gym leader from Hammerlocke City or something.

        "He's 6'8, Felix," you sigh dreamily as you stroke your Boltund's head. "And he raises dragons! That's gotta be a hard thing to do! Not to mention, he's the closest anyone's ever been to beating the Champion!"

        It bothers him to an extent, but he could deal with your moaning about this Dragon Master. "I can't wait to win his gym badge! Well, if I even can... I heard hardly anyone passes his challenge! And apparently it's in the vault! You have to be studious to watch over such a place. I mean, brawns, beauty, and brains?"

        "Uh huh," is all Felix says, his tone dry and uninterested.

        "I bet he's so strong! Maybe even stronger than you!"

        Felix snaps. "What the hell did you say?" he growls out after getting over the initial shock of you basically insulting his battle prowess. "There's no one who's stronger than me. Take it back. Right now."

        "I'm kidding, Felly," you coo out adoringly. "There's no one stronger than you."

        "This gym leader doesn't even come close," he retorts, grabbing you by the hand and dragging you out of the Pokemon Center, ignoring the way your touch sends his heart into a frenzy. "Maybe you might have a shot at beating me, but I'll prove my strength by beating you again. It won't be like the last time, and I'll show you just how strong I've gotten."

        Like he promises, his team defeats yours after his challenge. He feels smug at his win, and he expects you to be upset. All you do is beam at him. "Wow! You really have gotten stronger, Felix! I bet you'll be the one to win this challenge after all!" you laugh goofily, scratching the back of your head as you recall your starter back into his Pokeball.

        Unlike his other wins that usually don't do much for his emotions, this one leaves him feeling proud and warm inside, especially when paired with your praise. "Oh, I know! We should totally cook up some curry as a celebration!"

        He wants to say no, but he can't bring himself to. "...Spicy coconut?"

        "Spicy coconut," you agree, already pulling him towards Route 7 to camp out for the evening. The two of you spend the rest of the evening cooking up a delicious meal, and he can feel himself opening up to you.

        He already knew you were different from other trainers- after all, you had been one of the few to actually give him a challenge. He tells himself that over and over again, that you're just his rival, and he tries to ignore the way the sunset forms a halo behind you as you stir the clay pot and chat about what had happened yesterday.

        If he was a winter breeze, you were a summer night. Warm, inviting, and refreshing. You're unlike any other trainer he's met or battled, and he can't help it when you lean in, the two of you tipsy from a special Berry wine from Kalos that Melony had given him as a congratulations from her battle.

        The smell of spices on your lips is too fragrant, too tantalizing, and all he can think is "fuck it," as he closes the gap between the two of you, relishing the way you melt against his form.

        The messages between the two of you are frequent, and he finds himself waiting eagerly for your response every morning and night. In preparations for the semi-finals, the two of you agree to focus on training your teams. No matter how much he wants to cook curry with you, his Pokemon and dreams come first.

        He doesn't see you again until the semi-finals, where his win is crucial and actually counts.

        He's won the matches against you in the past, so there was no way he was going to lose to you now. The road to the Champion was a Arceus-damn long one, and he was going to see it through.

        So why was this match so different? Why did the fire in your eyes threaten to make his heart leap out of his rib cage once and for all? Why did you beat him in the semi-finals? Why did he only feel awe and a little bit of pride at your win, instead of the bitterness and resentment he should have felt?

        No, that was a lie.

        Watching you cheer with joy with your Tsareena made his heart feel light, but as soon as he stepped into the locker room, all he could feel was rage and disappointment. He had lost? Lost to you? Even now, he still couldn't believe it. There's a heavy, aching pain in his heart, and he doesn't quite know what to do with it.

        It's a feeling of emptiness more than pain. He's worthless. A good for nothing trainer. If he couldn't even advance to the fucking finals, how could he think of himself as one of the strongest trainers?

        Upon seeing you in the lobby, he stops. Your eyes light up at the sight of his tired, still sweaty form. "Felix! Finally! I've been waiting for you for a while now." He doesn't know what to do, so he does what he does best when he's confused.

        He runs.

        Felix ignores your calls and messages and requests to make curry that night, wanting to forget about the damn battle, wanting to forget about you. It's already a blow to his pride to lose to his rival, and he wants to push away whatever the hell he had been feeling for you in the past few days.

        He falls asleep with a throbbing heart that night, and unknown to him, you do as well.

        With a heavy chest, he manages to make it down to the lobby in the morning, needing food to sustain himself since he had skipped dinner on accident last night. He knows you texted him again at seven in the morning, but he still refuses to look at your messages and be reminded of the whirlwind that is you.

        He wants nothing more than to return to the Wild Area to train a bit more, but he decides to stay to watch your match, curious to see how you'll fare against the other trainers. As expected, or maybe as he hoped, you manage to crush the gym leaders as the crowd roars in approval.

        He's more than pleased when you defeat that stupid Dragon Master again.

        Up next was the Champion, some purple-haired Chad with a fucking cape. He almost snorts when he steps onto the field, but it's interrupted by a claim to better the future and panic in the crowd. Vaguely, he remembers the stadium shaking and the lights shattering, and all he can think about is you as you run out of the stadium.

        Wherever you've gone amidst the chaos, Felix can't find you. He checks everywhere- the lobby, the break room, even the locker room, until one of the staff urges him to evacuate to the Pokemon Center.

        "I can take care of myself," he argues when the staff member sits him down next to some crying kid.

        "It's really not recommended, sir," the staff member says, struggling to keep him onto the plush sofa. "We've received word of Eternatus waking up, and the situation is quite precarious. The champion and the current challenger will keep it under control-"

        "Like hell!" Felix nearly roars as he storms out of the Pokemon Center and away from the crying children and panicking trainers. There was no way you could handle this dragon, even with that dramatic Champion by your side.

        Quite frankly, he doesn't know where to even go to find you, but all he knows is that you need to be in his arms right now. Almost crazed with panic, he rushes towards a random direction and sends out his Corviknight to help him look for anything that looked like you or anything that looked even remotely dangerous.

        The town is nearly dead, save from the bustling Pokemon Center. It isn't hard to point out anything else that could have some kind of activity, and he spots a large tower that's shaking and sobbing with destruction after a few minutes of searching.

        Much to his horror, ambulances have found their way to the tower as well, and he immediately tries to force his way into the building. Some medics and officers spot him and push him away as a team of medics urgently pull a stretcher out of the building, and the person lying on it looks way too much like you.

        With a scream of your name, he watches in terror as you're whisked away to the hospital, as the Champion exiting the building wipes away his tears.

        He doesn't see you again.

Chapter Text

        Sweet, lightly fragrant, and lavender.

        Are you sure you aren't mistaking the flowers for Yuri's hair? The way you caress the flowers so tenderly almost sends a twist of jealousy to his stomach, but the joyous smile on your face erases any negative emotion creeping towards his heart. "How on earth did you stumble upon this place?" he mutters; of course you would be the one to discover a secret, beautiful place like this.

        "You know, I was doing some research for my father's clinic. He asked me to fetch herbs to make vulneraries since he has a cold, but I slipped and fell down a hill," you wince at the memory, hands falling from the flowers hanging on the nearby trees. "Anyways, I remember reading about a flower called wisteria a few years ago- I'm certain this is it!"

        Yuri adjusts the picnic basket in his grasp and brings the flowers closer to his nose, inhaling gently as a soft, floral fragrance hits his nose- as to be expected. "Of course you're clumsy as usual," he sighs, pulling away from the flowers to look at you. "It's a wonder how you even survived in Abyss in the first place."

        You laugh, and it's a sound sweeter than the chirps of the birds or squeaks of the squirrels nearby. "Yeah," you agree. "Had it not been for you, I probably would have been robbed everyday... but I know better now! Especially after spending all that time there during the war." The thought is funny to him, though- you were too kind, and he could remember the days where you wave off thefts, seeing as the "thieves would need the money more." It got to the point where you were robbed at least once a week, and he had made sure to accompany you every time you went to the market.

        "Please," he snorts, bringing a hand, marred by war and scars, to his face. "You say that as if we still don't live in Abyss now."

        "Very true, but it's a much nicer place than how it was during your... Academy days," you make a face. "You had me so worried during all those years in the war! You're lucky I was there to help improve the Abyssian conditions! Honestly, all the people sing praises for your leadership and guidance down here, but they don't know the real workhorse was your spouse, huh?"

        "Oh, you know I'm grateful," he insists, inching closer to you and resting his forehead on yours. "But can't you appreciate the work we've done? Education, sanitation, and health care... Not everyone can achieve that in only a span of a few years. You even helped your father develop his own clinic."

        After the war, the two of you returned back to the Abyss a newly married couple and reorganized the entirety of the underground, letting businesses, schools, clinics, and orphanages flourish under your "reign." As appointed leaders, you and Yuri were able to improve the state of the Abyss completely. Though with its imperfections, citizens no longer had to starve to or resort to thievery. Yuri had recently allowed trade and travel between the Kingdom and Abyss, allowing for an improved relationship. It only helped that his professor is the new Archbishop of the Church.

        "Yes, and while you were off fighting the Empire, it was my job keeping the ruffians in check!" you push him away, scowling, though he can see the twinge of playfulness in your eyes

        "I don't see why that would ever be a problem considering you're a ruffian yourself," he responds cheekily, immediately, grabbing onto your elbows and pulling you in closer.

        You roll your eyes at him. "Veeery funny, dear. You better watch your tongue, otherwise I'll grind up these flowers and put them in your next meal," you threaten. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion. The flowers? What was wrong with the flowers? They were rather delicate, and perhaps they'd make for intricate garnish on your dinner in the picnic basket.

        "Please do," Yuri quips, placing his chin on top of your head, humming in agreement.

        You pull your head from underneath his heavy chin and give him another look. "Really? Wisteria is toxic to humans, so I would pretty much be poisoning you," you point out, motioning to the toxic flowers above you. "Well, that's only if you eat it- smelling or touching it wouldn't do much..."

        Yuri stifles a groan. He should have suspected. "I knew I should have never introduced you to Claude. All he's done is just plant little, devious ideas in your head. You're thinking of poisoning me for my words?"

        Goddess, it has only been a few years since the two of you married, but he can't help but fall harder every time you open that sly mouth of yours. His love for you is like the wind- sometimes powerful and urgent, but other time, it's gentle and light, like how it is right now. It never tapers, always constantly there, regardless of how consistent.

        You giggle, a goofy smile creeping onto your lips. "The Almyran King was certainly much more interesting than I had imagined," you admit, laughing. "You know I can't help it! I think he enjoys reading just as much as I do!"

        "I'll say. Your nose is stuck in those botany books of yours every night that I'm starting to forget that you're even married in the first place." He lets out a dramatic sigh, looking up at the pale, lavender flowers hanging above the two of you. The sun is starting to set, and the way the light refracts around the flowers is breath-taking. "It seems that flowers and plants are much more interesting than I am. What must I do to grab your attention again? Should I grow leaves and roots? Maybe I should start photosynthesizing?"

        "You are absolutely correct, my love, but please do not start turning into a bouquet of flowers. I'd rather you buy me some instead," you place a well-meaning kiss on his nose. "Plus, I mean, these flowers are known to be an invasive species from the East- even further than Almyra! Can you believe such a foreign plant managed to live here in Fodlan? It symbolizes longevity and romance," you crack a smile at this. 

        He wrinkles his nose in mock disgust. "Longevity and romance, huh? Seeing as we're underneath the flowers... Mmm, I'm not so sure I want our love to last that long..."

        "Hey!"

        "Are you going to try to poison me now?" he coos gently, pushing you against a wisteria tree, the bark rough against his fingers. "Have I been too mean to you?" he knows why you're so enthralled by the flowers, though. There was no sunlight in Abyss, but seeing smuggled flowers urged you to sneak to the upper world every so often, despite Yuri's own protests. Now that you were able to freely traverse from the underground to the Kingdom, your curiosity of plants has yet to be satiated. 

        "Yes," you whine, looking up at him with eyes that rival the sweet hounds that await by his doorstep every night. "I bring my husband to a romantic hideout, and all he does is bully me! I want a refund!"

        Yuri snorts, but his heart blossoms knowing you loved him enough to bring him to such a place. "I'll burn our marriage certificate. Good luck trying to return me without the receipt-" his words are interrupted by the howling of your stomach, and your eyes widen in shock and embarrassment. "Hungry?"

        "All this arguing is getting to my stomach..." you pout, reaching for the picnic basket and pulling out a eggshell white blanket to cover the lush, verdant grass. "Will you stop trying to quarrel with me and help me set up our dinner? The sun will disappear soon."

        He doesn't bring up the fact that you're the one that starts the quarrels, but he knows you're too stubborn and won't give in. Shaking his head gently and chuckling softly, he sits down on the blanket before pulling out the dinner he had prepared for the two of you earlier in the day. It's simple- only consisting of breads, cheeses, meats, and olives, seeing as someone rushed him out of the house to come to a hidden, floral grotto.

        "It's not your favorite, but it'll have to do for tonight," he hums, handing you a plateful of the foods, which you take immediately, your mouth watering. He wants to wipe that drool from your face, but he merely watches in amusement when you shove a portion of meat and cheese into your mouth.

        "Don't care," you mumble in between bites. "Everything tastes good when you're here." 

        Yuri wants to tell you to slow down because you look like an absolute monster, but your words warm him inside, something he wasn't sure would happen before the two of you started courting. "Very sweet of you, my dear, but do your best not to choke. Otherwise I'll have to sell your books in order to cover the costs for your funeral."

        You stop immediately, glaring at him as you hold a slice of bread near your face. "Bury me with those books or else I'll haunt you for eternity," you scoff, pushing a morsel of bread into your mouth.

        He has no idea how you can look so cute when your cheeks are puffed out like a chipmunks. "Like you said, wisteria symbolizes longevity, so you can't go dying on me. I don't see any problem in you haunting me if it means we'll still be together."

        It's like the words stop you in your tracks, judging by the way you cough and wheeze on your bread, and he wordlessly hands you a jar of water he made sure to pack. There's a scarlet blush on your cheeks. He likes sweet-talking you, especially when it gave him a reaction like this.

        "You are shameless," you manage to choke out when your breathing and coughing recovers, your voice still slightly hoarse from the fit you had. "I really could have choked right there! I could have died! And left you a sad widow without any children!"

        "I guess it's in our best interest to start having kids, right? In case if you do die, at least I'll be a sad widow with one to three children, not counting those in the orphanages," he says so casually, and he doesn't miss the way your cheeks grow even more vibrant with embarrassment. 

        "Shameless," you try to retort. "If someone hears you..."

        "And no one will," he presses, a wicked grin growing onto his face as he crawls on the blanket closer to you. "And because no one will hear us, maybe we can get started right away."

Chapter Text

        "Professor, you can't be serious."

        Your blank-faced professor looks up to raise an eyebrow at you. "Why do you think I wouldn't be?" Byleth asks, going back to the pile of papers that had been infesting his desk for the past moon. His dull stare focuses in on the paper. "There's no better student than you, considering most of the White Sheep don't know the curriculum as well as you do."

        The classroom is empty besides you, the professor, and a snoring Linhardt. The other students have retired to their dormitories seeing as lecture has just ended, but your talented professor had ordered for you to stay in order to give you a special task- one that you are not particularly looking forward to. Tutoring the White Sheep instead of fishing with Flayn or tending the garden with Dedue? No, thank you!

        "You could get any of the other Black Eagle students, so why do I have to?" you complain, slumping in your seat. "I mean, I haven't even said a word to any of the new students. I know they speak the same language, but I can't help but think about how hard tutoring them would be!"

        "You'd just be tutoring one of them- the house leader, Chrom," he points out, waving the owl feathered quill in front of his face. "Edelgard and Hubert are too headstrong as tutors, and Ferdinand gets distracted too easily. Dorothea is too busy, Bernadetta might just have an anxiety attack, and Petra still has her own struggles with lectures. And I don't think Caspar or Linhardt-" his eyes pass over to the snoozing student. "Are up to the task."

        He's right, but it doesn't make things any better for you. You had seen Chrom and his fellow students, all led by foreign professor Frederick, at the dining hall a few times, but you mostly kept to your own house or a few friends from the Blue Lions. It's not like you didn't want to talk to them, but you've never met anyone from Ylisse... would you be able to get along with them?

        It's quite surprising to know that the prince of Ylisse, of all students, needed your help

        The classroom door swings open abruptly. "Oh, Professor Byleth! Frederick told me you needed to see me?" standing there is a tall, grinning prince with wild navy hair that shines with an intensity you rarely see in men's hair. Your eyes fall down to his outfit. In the beginning of the moon, a sleeve of his arm had been ripped off to reveal something akin to a crest, but now the torn edges have been hemmed- likely Mercedes' work.

        "Have a seat," Byleth encourages, gesturing to the seat next to yours. "He told me you were having troubles with the lectures, so I want to you introduce you to one of my top students. You'll be learning from (Name) until you get the hang of things."

        Chrom plops himself down next to you, giving you a wide smile. "It's good to meet you. I'm counting on your help," he says bashfully, the smile never faltering from his lips. "Fodlan lessons are a little harder to grasp, but I'm not as good as studying as Robin or Miriel. Even Vaike is faring off better than I am," he huffs.

        "Oh, that Vaike... he thinks of me as something like a rival," muses Byleth. "Always telling me that he's the better 'Teach' for the past few weeks now."

        You can vaguely remember a brash, muscular man who routinely liked to challenge one of your friends, Felix, to spars, though he would end up getting outsmarted by your fox-like friend every time. He seems like an interesting character, but it takes you aback to know that someone like him is performing better in classes than the Prince of Ylisse is.

        "Don't let him get to you, Professor," Chrom reassures. "He's been like that for as long as we can remember."

        "Noted," Byleth replies, shuffling his papers into a large folder that's already flowing with lesson plans and worksheets. "Anyways, this tutoring will take place after lectures every other day until your grades improve. (Name), see me at the end of each week for your compensation. Good luck," he adds, tucking the folder under his arm before heading out of the classroom.

        Chrom's bare arm grazes your own, and for a second, you regret wearing your summer uniform because it's enough pressure to send a static up your arm. "So, um, we should get to the library soon. Classrooms usually fill up, and it'll get loud, but only a few other students usually go the library..." During your time at the academy, usually only Ignatz, Linhardt, or Claude could be found in the library.

        "Oh, alright. I'll trust your judgement," he agrees easily, standing up and placing his bag over his shoulder. "I can get that for you," he offers, gesturing towards your own bag.

        You blink in surprise. "Oh. Oh, y-yes, of course!" you stutter, sliding the bag from your hands to his, and he takes it effortlessly. It's hard to miss his muscular arms, and you notice that he's actually pretty cute. If he doesn't have study skills, at least he has strength and his looks along with his title. Maybe even princes couldn't have it all.

        "Should we wake him?" he gestures to Linhardt with his chin.

        You eye the napping student, knowing he'd probably complain if you told him to go nap in his room instead. Considering how little he's been sleeping, you decide to leave him be for now. "It's alright. He'll be upset we woke him." You roll your eyes, and you hear Chrom laugh.

        His laugh suits him- deep, rich, and genuine. It almost sounds boisterous, something so unlike Edelgard's gentle giggles, Claude's scheming chuckles, and Dimitri's rare laughs. It's borderline shameless, with how loud it reverberates in the room, and you're certain, for just a brief moment, that it might wake up your sleeping friend. When it doesn't, you just shake your head and lead your new tutee out of the homeroom.

        There's only a few students loitering in the lawn in front of all the homerooms, so there's less traffic for the both of you to go into the library, to your joy. It's a relatively quiet afternoon; many of your friends had skipped classes, after all, so no one is in the monastery.

        "So, your first moon here is wrapping up, huh?" you ask nervously, not knowing how to act in front of this foreign prince.

        Talking to Edelgard or Dimitri was one thing- you usually get along with both the royals, and you've grown quite comfortable in their presences, often studying or sparring with them on occasion. Trying to make idle conversation with a foreign-exchange student that isn't Petra is a whole different playing field, and you really aren't sure what to make of Chrom just yet. You know that he seems more laid-back than your other royal friends- maybe closest to Claude in terms of casualty- 

        You watch in horror as the exalted prince bites into an orange- peel and all. "It's been interesting!" he replies once he finishes munching. "Fodlan has some similarities to Ylisse, but it's still quite different. All in all, it's pretty refreshing, though. The rest of my house likes it here too," he mentions, continuing to eat the orange like it's an apple or a peach. "Oh, do you want one? I swiped these from the dining hall for when I study."

        "I-uh, I'm alright," you sputter out, still eyeing the orange in his hand.

        "Are you sure? I have plenty in my bag if you want one."

        "Why- why are you eating it like that?" you ask, disbelief apparent in your voice. Never in your life have you seen someone consume an orange like that. At most, the peel has been used for marmalade, but an esteemed prince is eating the orange in his hand like a starving beast.

        If you think you didn't know how to read him before, you sure as hell don't know how to read him now.

        "Oh, my sister usually complains about the way I eat it. I don't get it, though. It's just extra carbs and fiber, and it'll keep your blood sugar up when you're studying!" he points out, and you're left with the realization that this man is either incredibly stupid or incredibly chaotic.

        The way his voice is muffled by the orange and the way the juices drip down his hand make you think that he is both stupid and chaotic. You've heard stories of how brave and gallant Chrom is in battles, but the way he looks now makes you think otherwise. The dopey grin on his face, the orange pieces stuck between his teeth- no one would ever believe you if you decide to tell them of your experience with the prince.

        "So, this is just a you thing and not a Ylissean thing?" you check, unsure.

        He ponders for a moment. "I guess so. None of the other White Sheep eat oranges like me. In fact, Gaius makes fun of me about it sometimes. One time, I managed to fit half a whole orange in my mouth!" he says proudly, and you can't help but gape at him. You know it's a rude thing to do to someone of royal blood, but Goddess, you really can't help it with how casually he said that.

        "Um, I'm still having trouble processing this," you admit honestly, opening the door to the library as the two of you pile into the room and head to an empty table.

        Chrom shrugs, smiling as he pulls out a handkerchief to clean off his fingers. "We, the White Sheep, are pretty strange," he laughs, placing both your bags on an empty chair. "I mean, Robin sleeps on the grass a lot, and Lon'qu has a fear of women. It's something you'll have to grow used to," he advises, placing a hand on your head.

        The two of you look at each other for approximately four seconds before Chrom laughs nervously and pulls away his hand like it's on fire. "Oh, sorry. I don't know what got into me, you looked kind of cute there- like a small cat-"

        "You touched my head with the hand you ate an orange with," you murmur, bringing a hand up to your hair. Just like you had predicted, the top of your head is sticky with orange juice, no matter how hard he had tried to clean his hand.

        Wait, did he just call you cute? You avert your gaze, trying not to let the compliment get to you. After all the cutest prince you had ever laid your eyes on called you cute! It's enough to make you already forgive him, but you're in the mood to play with him for a little while longer.

        "I am so sorry." He looks just as horrified as you are. "Is it still sticky? I have an extra handkerchief if you need it-"

        "Shhh!" hisses an exasperated student, dark bags taped onto their face, before they return to their book.

        You and Chrom wince. "Sorry..." both of you hadn't realize how loud your conversation had been, especially now that the two of you are in the library now. As you try to wipe off the remains of the orange pulp from your head, you can't help but smile.

        If you're like a small cat, then it only makes sense to say that Chrom is kind of like a puppy, with how apologetic and wide his eyes look. Even as he continues to apologize, a part of you is just a little grateful to Professor Byleth for assigning you as his tutor.

Chapter Text

        Most of the other kids are scared of Byleth- especially the kids in Remire Village.

        It's no wonder they are; what normal eleven year old could wield a sword like that? What kind of eleven year old is a merc and has the capabilities of killing someone? Even the adults would whisper after offering his father a place to stay in Remire Village after every job there.

        "That kid... I've heard he's already quite the mercenary," he could hear a woman whisper. "But he's so young!"

        "Jeralt and his kid do a lot for this village though," another woman whispers, nudging her friend. "It only makes sense we treat them well. But I guess you're right... I don't think we've ever seen that child smile."

        "Ashen Demon," the first woman muses, tapping her chin with a finger. "Looks like the rumors are true."

        Byleth hates it.

        Ashen Demon? Him? The nickname leaves a bitter taste on his tongue, sticking onto his taste buds like gooey poison. While he always has had a hard time smiling, especially in front of strangers, that doesn't mean he's a demon. He's heard it so much that he's begun to wonder if those rumors are really true- maybe he really isn't human, after all. Isn't that why all those other kids whisper nervously whenever he leaves the inn for a job?

        He's always been plenty content enough with just helping his father out. Really, he doesn't need friends, but sometimes he wonders what it would be like for the other kids to talk to him instead of running away with their tails between their legs.

        Then again, it doesn't bother him too much. It's not like they stay long enough in one place for him to make friends, no matter how many times the duo and the other mercenaries found themselves back in the village. The band of mercs are always coming and going, so he tries not to think too much about it.

        During a particularly long mission, he and his father find themselves back in Remire Village to track down a sneaky predator. It's something Byleth doesn't quite understand, but he knows there's a sleazy guy trying to kidnap young girls his own age, which makes his stomach twist like he's eaten bad leftovers.

        It's one evening, just before dinner, when he sees you from the corners of his eyes as he passes a dark alley behind the butcher's shop. Even in the faint beams of the setting sun, he can see you quiver.

        In your hands is a basket of flowers and in front of you is a tall stranger. Your eyes are wide, fearful- like those of a trapped animal, and your hands shake with anxiety. The man in front of you in saying something, but when the two of you lock eyes, you're already scurrying to Byleth's side.

        Help me, your gaze begs.

        He's not supposed to take jobs without a transaction of money, Jeralt has always told him to help the people of Remire when they asked for it. Automatically, his hand falls onto his sword, and he unsheathes his blade. Gaze steady, he grips the sword tightly before pointing it at the man, who immediately dashes in the next direction.

        The next thing he knows, his father and another mercenary are chasing the man, and you're still gripping at his upper arm. "You can let go now," Byleth explains, sheathing the sword. "He got scared."

        "You saved me!" you breathe out, relief pooling at your eyes in the form of tiny teardrops. "I'm glad you were here. Hey, my name is (Name). What's yours?" you reach into your basket and pull out a single, cream lily. One of its petals are frayed, but you tuck the flower behind his ear. "This is for you!"

        He knows he should be helping his father, but your grasp is unrelenting. "Byleth," he answers, eyeing your hands. The flower feels weird- he's not used to having something tucked behind his ear.

        "You're Jeralt's son, right?" you ask, tilting your head. "The Ashen Demon, right? All my friends at school talk about you whenever you two are back in the village! You know, you're a lot cuter than I imagined."

        For some reason unknown to him, the nickname doesn't bother him as much when it's coming from your mouth. "I guess." He pulls the flower from behind his ear to peer at it. It looks freshly picked, and he wonders if you sell flowers every day. Quietly, he places it back in its original place when you give him a pout.

        "That's so cool!" you beam at him excitedly. "Hey! You should be my bodyguard! That way, no scary guys will corner me like that ever again!" you suggest, latching onto his arm so tight that he wonders if there's blood circulating down to his fingers. "This way, I can sell my flowers whenever I want!"

        "Maybe," Byleth replies, trying to shrug the weird child clinging onto him. "I have to go." It's not a lie- his father is probably wondering when he'll catch up to them.

        "Going after the bad guy?" your eyes shine, and you finally let go of him. "Okay! Good luck! I'll be rooting for you!"

        He doesn't respond and just turns on his heels to head in the direction where he thinks his father is. It's the first time he's ever seen you around the village, but ever since that evening near the butcher's shop, the gears have started to turn.

        It seems like every time he's back at Remire Village, he runs into you again. The people have grown accustomed to the band of mercenaries now, and they're always warmly welcomed. They still call him the Ashen Demon, but it bothers him less with every year and every job.

        Honestly, he's still not fond of the nickname, and you've picked up on his mild discomfort over the years. You call him by his first name now, and it's admittedly not that bad to hear it on your tongue. And really, he doesn't know why you insist on visiting him every time he's back, but it's not like he has anything better to do in his free time.

        "Byleth! You're back!" you'd say cheerfully every time he came back. "I missed you! Hey! You'll never guess what happened today!"

        And every time, he'd entertain you- so much to the point that it feels like clockwork. After every job, he'd march up to the hills to see you, and even his father has started commenting on it.

        "So you're still friends with that flower peddler even after all these years, huh?" Jeralt would say, not even looking up from his papers. "Just get home before it gets too dark."

        It would happen every time, mission after mission. Days have turned into years, and you've become part of the reason why he looks forward to his visits so much- not that he'd ever say that to your face.

        Even past his twentieth birthday, he almost finds it strange and a little endearing that he hasn't grown sick of you or your voice.

        "Byleth!" you call, waving excitedly at him. "I heard you and Jeralt came back! Here! We've pickled some vegetables, so I made you some lunch! It's rice balls! I made them myself, so you better eat every last one!"

        He eyes the wrapped lunch in your hands. "It's... just rice?"

        "The vegetables are inside, dummy!" you sit down on a bench and pat down the space next to you. "Here, try one!" you hand him a ball of rice as soon as he sits down. Just like you had said, when he bites into the food, he's met with a sour and sweet taste of pickled radish and turnips.

        "It's good," he comments, voice muffled by the food.

        "Really? Good enough for you to propose to me?" you tease, and he almost chokes on the rice ball at your claim. "Sike. Like you'd ever wanna marry me, right? Haha!"

        He hasn't put in much thought about his future, and thinking about it almost makes him nervous. Suddenly, he can't look at you in the eye anymore until you jab his side.

        "I made a lot, so eat up! You'll need the energy if you're going to be protecting me, my oh-so-precious bodyguard," you tease, already handing him another rice ball. "You've always been so good at protecting Remire Village after all these years, huh?"

        He shrugs lazily, trying to forget your earlier declaration. "It's my job."

        "But I'm sure you get tired, right?"

        "Not really," he comments, hurriedly finishing off the rest of the meal you've packed him. He hadn't realized he how hungry he had been. "Only at night."

        You snap your fingers. "At night! Got it! So, if you protect me during the day time, I guess I've gotta protect you during the night!" you say cheerfully. "I've gotta pay off my debt somehow; you're always working so hard for us."

        He just blinks at you. "You don't have to do that, (Name)," he finally mumbles after dusting off his hands. "You can't even protect yourself."

        "I can!" you protest, sticking your tongue out at him. "Just you wait! One day, I'll protect you, and you'll be thanking me! It's a promise!"

        He leans back onto the bench, looking down at the village from on top of the hill where you pick your flowers. "It's dangerous. Just stay in the village, where it's safe."

        "But what if it's not always safe? Didn't you just take out some thieves about to come here? There might be a day when you aren't here! Then the village won't be safe-" you start, but Byleth reaches up and thumps your forehead with his fingers. "What was that for?! I'm right, you know!

        "Stop that. It's not going to happen."

        But it did.

        And every moment was awful. 

        It's only been a few months since he's last seen the village, and he would have never thought it'd be sent into a flaming frenzy. The smell of ashes and sweat singe his nostrils, but all he can think about is your safety.

        "Professor, where are you going?" Edelgard asks him in bewilderment as she tries to calm down a rampaging villager- the butcher's son, specifically. "We need you here!"

        "You're more than capable of handling this with Caspar and Ferdinand," the navy-haired man says, already running towards the hill. "I'll be back."

        He knows you'll be there- the hill is just on the outskirts of the village, so no one must have reached you yet. Even still... It's too dangerous out here to be alone. His chest tightens with anxiety, and all he wants is to keep his only friend in the village safe.

        Every step feels like fire, and there's a burning in his chest that won't go away, no matter how much he slows his breathing. Climbing the hill feels like climbing a mountain. Maybe it's not a good idea, and every muscle in his body is screaming at him in exhaustion, but he just doesn't care.

        Was it a side effect of using Sothis' Divine Pulse too often to save the other villagers? He's used up the last of her powers too early in the battle, and he knows he's going to have Solon to his students or his father.

        And there you are, humming as you pick some daffodils for your basket. "B-Byleth?! What are you doing here? I thought you were teaching at the monastery now. You're not here for a merc's job, are you?"

        "Get out of here," he orders, placing his hands on your shoulders. "It's not safe anymore."

        "Safe?" you ask worriedly. "Are you hurt? Is this blood?"

        "Not mine," he reassures you as he pulls you along to get you somewhere safe. It doesn't matter where as long as he can find you when the fighting quells down.

        Your grip on his own hand grows tighter. "Not yours? Don't joke! Byleth, you're hurt!"

        He hasn't noticed, not when he's this worried. "...It's fine. Look, there are some rampaging villagers. My students are doing their best to improve the situation, but I need to help them. Promise me you'll get out of here," he demands, and he can smell the smoke from the fires in the village.

        You frown. "Only if you promise to come back so we can treat those wounds of yours."

        The air is hot with smoke, and every breath sparks a new fire in his lung. And none of it compares to the fire in your eyes.

        He can't help but agree with you.

        "I promise."