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At first, Byleth didn’t care much for the girl named Edelgard.
It wasn’t that she disliked her, per say, but rather treated her with a general indifference. Ambition and status did not a personality make. She was just another one of Byleth’s students, though an exceptional one at that. Clearly the top of her class, and completely unflinching in every situation. No wonder the other Black Eagle students looked to her as their pillar of support.
So when Byleth followed the muffled whimpers through the dorms, Edelgard’s door was pretty much the last place she expected to end up.
Really? she thought. Sothis responded with a mental slap to the back of her head, and Byleth flinched. Okay, okay.
Byleth raised her hand and rapped her knuckles twice against the door. The whimpering noise cut off with a gasp, followed by a heavy silence. If it weren’t for Sothis urging her on, Byleth would have left it at that. It wasn’t her business to pry into the affairs of her students. It wasn’t like she and Edelgard were close.
But Byleth knocked again. This time, she added a soft, “Edelgard?” afterwords, pretty much sealing her fate. Great.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Edelgard opened the door just enough for Byleth to make out her rumpled uniform and overall disheveled appearance. Almost as if she had fallen asleep studying.
“...Professor?” Edelgard finally said.
“You look like you fell asleep studying,” Byleth blurted out, once again proving that without Sothis’s interference there was no filter from her brain to her mouth. “Ah. Sorry if that was rude.”
“No, no. You’re… not wrong.” Edelgard averted her eyes, and Byleth was suddenly struck by the fact that no matter what appearances Edelgard put on, she was still just a teenage girl.
Keep talking, Sothis hissed. Byleth opened her mouth to try to, but was cut off by Edelgard closing the door further.
“If you didn’t have a reason to come here, Professor, I’d very much like to retire for the night.”
“I…” Although she was terrible at emotions, especially when it came to herself, Byleth couldn’t ignore the sheer loneliness radiating from Edelgard. Maybe it was Sothis and whatever influence she had on Byleth’s brain, but this loneliness was almost suffocating.
Maybe Edelgard wasn’t as unwavering as she appeared.
“...I heard a noise,” Byleth tried lamely. Edelgard’s eyes widened in surprise, and another emotion flashed through the air like lightning. Guilt.
“So you heard me.” Edelgard’s knuckles were stark white against the doorframe, and she slowly pulled the door far enough open for Byleth to see her in full. She looked… not at her best, that was for sure. Byleth bit her tongue to stop from saying that out loud.
“Do you… want to talk about it?” Goddess, that was awkward. But she was her professor, so it was her duty to offer support, right? And Edelgard was a proud girl, so it wasn’t likely she’d accept—
“...If that is alright with you, Professor.”
Now you’ve done it, Sothis sighed, but Byleth couldn’t help but note she seemed almost pleased. An emotionless lump like you couldn’t possibly offer any sort of heartfelt support.
Byleth winced. Sothis wasn’t wrong.
But, she continued, her tone softer, the two of you are similar that way. And maybe that’s why Edelgard is willing to open up to you, and you alone.
Slowly, Byleth stepped over the threshold and into Edelgard’s room, shutting the door behind her for privacy. It was meticulous and organized, save for the papers and books scattered across the desk. Just the kind of room Byleth assumed a person like Edelgard would have. But the bedspread and pillows were too perfect, she noticed with a sinking stomach, as if they hadn’t been touched in days.
“Sorry for the mess,” Edelgard finally said to break the silence. “I didn’t exactly expect company at this hour.”
“Do you always sleep at your desk?” Internally, Sothis was pulling her hair out at the blunt response, but at this point Byleth had learned to tune her out. Her greatest achievement to date.
Edelgard looked away and bit her lip. “I suppose I do. Often, I get too absorbed in my preparations for the next day’s class that I finish just before sunrise.”
Sunrise…? Byleth counted on her fingers, ignoring Edelgard’s confused stare. “An hour of sleep?”
“Well, no. As head of the Black Eagles I need to gather materials and the like for the day before class starts, so I…” she trailed off. “Is something wrong?”
“So you aren’t sleeping?”
Chuckling weakly, Edelgard leaned back against her desk. “You heard what happens when I do, Professor. It’s not really something I look forwards to, however tired I may be.”
She seemed sad, Byleth noticed, but far more than any teenager should have been. Her eyes held the deep despair of a child forced to grow up too fast.
“I had eight older siblings, and two younger,” Edelgard suddenly blurted out. Byleth stayed silent, and let her go on. “It’s traditional in my family to have many children, not only to ensure a successor but to expand the family name.”
She paused for a second and took a deep breath. “Then, do you know why I am the one next in line for the throne?”
It took a second to sink in, but then the implications of Edelgard’s words crashed down upon Byleth like a river of ice. Even Sothis was struck dumb, the atmosphere in the room too heavy of either of them to speak.
That’s terrible, Byleth wanted to say, but she couldn’t possibly. The words would mean nothing, coming from a stranger known to lack a heart. Empty words, void of feeling.
“I had to watch them suffer,” Edelgard said, her voice nearly a whisper. “All for the sake of those damned crests.” There it was, one of the only things to make her lose her composure. But Byleth was beginning to understand why. “And here I am. The product of their experimentation. The perfect successor.”
She lifted her head and smiled, but it was fake. Even Byleth could see that. “So I apologize if I worried you, Professor. My past tends to haunt me when I slumber.”
To drop a bombshell like that and immediately lift her shields back up… it was almost incredible to watch. Incredible, but so, so painful.
“I’ll make sure to keep up with my studies as always, so you needn’t worry about me falling behind, and if I happen to talk in my sleep again—”
“Don’t do that,” Byleth blurted out. Edelgard flinched at the forcefulness of her words and bumped against her desk, a few papers fluttering down to the floor.
“P-Professor?”
“Don’t pretend that nothing’s wrong. You don’t…” she fumbled for words and settled on, “You don’t need to protect yourself from me.”
What a wonderful choice of words, Sothis groaned, but said nothing else.
“You are my student. And although I may seem cold I do care about you and your well-being.” That was sort of a lie; Byleth hadn’t really given Edelgard a second thought until tonight.
“Well yes, of course you do,” Edelgard tried. “However, I don’t think you understand my position relative to the other students. I must not waver in appearances, if not only for my sake, but theirs as well.”
“Why?”
“Why? I…” Somehow her persona was crumbling before Byleth’s eyes, whether due to sleep deprivation or the terribly blunt questions. “Because it is my duty, of course.” She raised one hand to her lips and cast her gaze towards the floor. “Perhaps I have said too much tonight. I apologize for any burden I may have put upon you, Professor.”
There were so many things Byleth wanted to say and so many thoughts from Sothis jumbling around in her mind that all she could do was nod. As Byleth turned towards the door and opened her mouth say goodnight, Edelgard lifted her head back up and met her gaze.
“But thank you for listening. I… I appreciate it very much.”
Ah. Byleth didn’t really expect that. And was that a faint smile on Edelgard’s face? No way. She was seeing things. Wait, she was supposed to respond, wasn’t she? Say something, idiot, Sothis hissed. You’re staring like a total creep!
“Yeah. No problem.”
As soon as Byleth closed the door to Edelgard’s room Sothis delivered a smack to her head hard enough to make her yelp. Thankfully, Edelgard didn’t seem to have heard.
Absolutely useless, you are, Sothis chided as they started to make their way back. Maybe I should enroll us in one of those programs for children’s manners. Since you are no better than a child at using tact!
“Sorry,” Byleth sighed out loud, then tuned Sothis out of her head for the rest of the walk back to her room.
In the next few days, Byleth started to keep a closer eye on Edelgard than before. In appearance she was exactly the same—ambitious, straightforwards, and the class’s unspoken leader—but it seemed only Byleth noticed the shadows forming under her eyes and the slump of her shoulders when her classmates turned away.
Eventually, a week after their chat, everything came to a head in a mock battle. Probably the worst place it could have.
“Good form, Ferdinand,” Byleth called out. “Just keep the blade level.”
“Yessir!” he called back. The students were paired up in the training field, set up in a miniature tournament. Bernadetta and Linhardt were already out and sat behind Byleth against the wall, trembling and napping respectively. Byleth had the sneaking feeling they had lost on purpose.
On the field Ferdinand launched another thrust at Edelgard that she deftly parried with her axe. Weapon advantage aside, she exuded much more confidence with her weapon than Ferdinand. The tip of his spear kept drifting downwards, which Edelgard didn’t fail to act on.
At his next stab she caught the tip with the back of her axe and twisted, unbalancing Ferdinand and sending the spear clattering to the ground. Before he could react she thrust the pommel of her axe into his stomach with enough force to make him grunt and topple to his knees.
“Ferdinand, out,” Byleth called out. At her call Edelgard took a step back and shot Ferdinand a tired but slightly-cocky grin.
“Nice try,” she said. Ferdinand just grit his teeth and stalked off the field to the wall.
“Next time for sure!” he yelled back over his shoulder. Edelgard waved back, still smiling.
It was nice to see her smile, Byleth noted absentmindedly, even if it was guarded. Then she blinked. Huh. Where had that thought come from?
Creepy professor, looking at her students, Sothis teased.
“I’m not,” Byleth protested. Ferdinand shot her a look and she cleared her throat. “Ahem. Edelgard will face the winner between Petra and Caspar—ah, Petra, then,” she corrected, as Petra managed to knock Caspar onto his back with her shield. He tried to get up but one of his gauntlets was embedded in the dirt, effectively immobilizing him.
“Ah, shit,” he groaned. “Uh, a little help?” Petra, the closest, giggled and knelt down to undo the straps so she could help him to his feet.
“Very well fought, Caspar,” she said, ever so kind even to her opponents. “I am sure the next time we are sparring you shall emerge victorious!”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled back. How cute.
Byleth clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention, secretly pleased when they quieted down and turned her way. “So the final match for magic users will be Dorothea versus Hubert, and weapons will be Edelgard versus Petra. We’ll use the whole field, so once Caspar gets up we can begin the first match.”
“I’m up!” he protested, still struggling to remove his stuck gauntlet from the dirt. A wave of laughter from the others washed over him and he reddened. “A little help? Please?”
Ferdinand immediately rushed over, and as her students started to chatter in the small window of time between fights, Byleth snuck another glance at Edelgard. She seemed fine, leaning on the handle of her axe and listening to Hubert mutter his battle plans to her under his breath.
Don’t let her deceive you, Sothis chided. I predict that she will reach her limit by the end of the day, if not this class. What a foolish child, straining herself in such a way…
With that warning at the back of her mind, Byleth commenced the first fight but made sure to keep a closer eye on Edelgard. Sothis was probably right—of course I am, one of us needs to be—and she didn’t want her getting hurt in the upcoming fight.
Hubert took Dorothea down fairly quickly, immobilizing her with dark magic before she could cast any of her stronger spells. Byleth sort of saw it coming, but was impressed with how long she held out. Hubert was definitely one of her more talented students when it came to magic, if not the most.
“Dorothea, out,” she called. At her call Hubert released his spell and dropped her back to the ground with a gentleness Byleth didn’t expect him to. He nodded at Dorothea before stalking off to Edelgard’s side, a small smirk tight across his lips.
“How was that, Professor?” Brimming with post-battle adrenaline, Dorothea nearly sparkled as she jogged up to Byleth. “Much longer than usual, wouldn’t you say?”
“You show consistent improvement each class,” Byleth agreed. “Next time be sure to focus on defensive skills as well as offensive, in order to avoid a situation like this one again.”
“Of course! Thank you so much, Professor.”
She jogged over to the rest of her classmates, and Byleth watched as Petra and Edelgard took the field. For a close-quarters combat Petra favoured the sword, which had advantage over Edelgard’s axe. The match could probably go either way, though she doubted that Edelgard would ever let herself lose.
“Begin.”
Immediately, Petra launched herself forwards and slammed her shield towards Edelgard. She raised her axe to soften the blow but the force still sent her skidding backwards a few feet, her boots leaving furrows in the ground as she did.
Petra raised her sword to follow up with a swing, but Edelgard anticipated and spun her axe around to jab Petra’s hand with the pommel. Before Petra could recover she slammed her shoulder into the shield and stumbled back to put some space between them.
Byleth winced. The shoulder move would have definitely hurt, and was unusual for Edelgard to attempt on top of that. When Petra lunged at her again Byleth also noticed that her movements seemed slower than usual, though she was still fast enough to keep up with Petra.
Suddenly, Petra jabbed her blade forward. An easy enough parry, since the move wasn’t the cleanest, Byleth noted. She’d talk to Petra about that later.
Edelgard didn’t parry like Byleth expected, however, and instead swung her axe towards Petra with a fierce yell. With her balance compromised from the thrust, Petra stumbled when it connected with her shield. That was enough of an opening for Edelgard, and in a few quick movements she smacked the sword out of Petra’s grip with the flat of her axe and kicked it to the side, disarming her.
“Petra, out,” Byleth called.
The rest of the students broke out in applause and dissolved in amicable chatter once again. Petra groaned, but with a smile, and collected her sword from the ground. “I cannot hope to best you yet, Edelgard. But I will be training, be sure.”
“The same to you,” Edelgard replied. She made no effort to move from where she stood and instead turned her head towards Byleth. “Professor, the Golden Deer will need to use the field next, won’t they?”
Ah. Right. “Go get changed!” Byleth called over the noise. “We ran late, so hurry. Please.”
Quickly the other students dispersed, chatter turning frantic at the thought of a scolding from Manuela. After a minute the training grounds were clear, save for Byleth and Edelgard, still not moving from her spot in the middle.
“Edelgard?” Byleth asked. Something wasn’t right. “Aren’t you going to get changed?”
“...Sorry, Professor.” She smiled again, but this one was clearly forced. Byleth took a step forward, then another, until she was sprinting to catch Edelgard before she collapsed to the ground.
Though Edelgard was smaller than her, Byleth still grunted as she caught her, and managed to stay upright. As she moved to reposition herself she realized with dawning horror that her left hand came away soaked with blood.
“You’re—”
“Sorry,” Edelgard repeated, breathless and pained. “I couldn’t… I don’t want them to see. Help me, please—”
Without a second thought Byleth slung one of her arms around her waist and hoisted her to her feet. “When?” she asked, worry leaking into her voice no matter how she tried to hide it.
“Petra. The stab. I couldn’t move fast enough to parry. Sorry.” Her words were short, and the infirmary was so far away.
“Edelgard?”
Hubert’s voice came from behind them, and Edelgard’s face went white. Quickly, Byleth pulled Edelgard in and wrapped the edge of her coat around to block her from view.
“Changing, Hubert,” she lied.
“Ah. I shall await her, then.” His footsteps faded away, and Byleth let out a breath she hadn’t noticed she was holding.
This is taking too long, Sothis hissed in her mind. You must hurry!
“Here.” Byleth kept her hand on Edelgard’s waist and guided her trembling arm over her shoulder. “Can you walk like this?”
Edelgard nodded, and Byleth led her as quickly as she could out of the training grounds and to the attached infirmary room. It was smaller than the normal one, but there was no way they could make it to the one on the second floor. Besides, Edelgard clearly didn’t want anyone to see her like this, and she respected that.
So the training infirmary it was. Byleth kicked the door closed as they hobbled in and guided Edelgard onto the cot, keeping her upright with one hand and leaning her against the wall.
“You okay?” Of course she wasn’t okay, but Byleth didn’t know what else to say.
“As well as I can be,” Edelgard managed. She fumbled at her side to peel back the clothes over her wound, and Byleth winced at the sight. It wasn’t large, but it was deep, cutting a diagonal line from her waist to the bottom of her ribcage.
You’re going to have to cauterize it, Sothis advised. I’m sure you’re at least proficient in fire, aren’t you?
“I’m going to—”
“I know,” Edelgard breathed, voice shaking. “Quickly, Professor. Please.”
Byleth exhaled, then raised her hand to Edelgard’s side. Flames burst from her palm against the wound, and Edelgard grit her teeth, her grip on Byleth’s upper arm tightening until it was almost painful. After a second Byleth drew her hand back clenched her fist to extinguish the fire. “Okay. Done.”
Clean it up next, Sothis said at the same time that Edelgard gasped for breath. Even in the dim light of the infirmary Byleth could make out the tears forming in her eyes.
As Byleth gathered the supplies to clean the wound, Edelgard managed to mumble, “They can’t ever see me like this, Professor.”
“...Why not?”
“It’s just—” she winced as Byleth started to wipe away the blood around the wound and slurred out, “—I can’t. My image. The other students… they look up to me.”
“They do,” Byleth confirmed. She discarded the bloody rags and uncapped the bottle of disinfectant. “In fact, they might respect you even more than me.”
Edelgard choked out a bubble of laughter, then yelped as the disinfectant met her skin.
“Sorry,” Byleth said, and she almost felt bad. She wasn’t supposed to cause her students pain. It felt wrong. “A few more seconds.”
After cleaning the wound Edelgard was too out of it to respond, so Byleth focused on bandaging it as tightly as possible. When she finished tying the last strip and pulled back, her eyes met Edelgard’s, and she froze.
It was so similar to when they met that night, Byleth realized, with Edelgard’s sad, sad eyes. She could see a single tear track along her cheek and, without thinking, reached up to wipe it away with a rag.
Edelgard jolted backwards, and Byleth blinked. Only then did she realize what she was doing, and lower her arm. “Oh. Sorry. You were crying.”
“You can’t tell anyone,” Edelgard demanded, almost like a child. Her defenses were down, no fake smiles or pretense of composure. Right now she was just wounded girl trying her hardest to be brave.
Byleth nodded, and pulled backwards. “Of course not.”
They paused in silence for a second before Byleth ventured, “Should I go?”
“I think so.” Edelgard tried to get to her feet, only for Byleth to gently push her back down. “What are you doing?”
“You should rest.”
“But the next class—”
“...will be fine without you,” Byleth finished. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell them I gave you a special assignment, or something.”
“But,” Edelgard tried again. Byleth’s hand stayed firm on her shoulder and she slumped forwards in defeat. “...Okay, Professor. If that’s what you want.”
“You need rest. And it doesn’t have to be sleep,” she added before she could object. “Your exhaustion is interfering with your abilities.” Not to say that she wasn’t still amazing while exhausted, but if Byleth said that she was pretty sure Edelgard would take it the wrong way. “Rest as much as you can.”
Surprisingly, Edelgard didn’t respond right away, almost frozen in place. Then, she said softly, “Okay. You’re right.” Taking care not to strain her injured side she lowered herself down onto the cot and stared up at the ceiling. “But I’ll be in class tomorrow.”
“If you insist.”
“I mean it. I refuse to falter any more than I already have.”
Her eyes were still sadder than any of her peers, Byleth noted, shutting the infirmary door as quietly as she could. No matter how much she tried to help, Edelgard’s feelings were too complex for a heartless person to even try and understand.
Not to say she wouldn’t try, though.
“Sothis,” Byleth spoke aloud, not caring if anyone heard her.
About time you asked, came the response, knowing Byleth’s train of thought before she even voiced it.
True to her word, Edelgard returned to class the next day. She showed no sign of injury the entire day, which surprised Byleth, since it was common for her shields to slip when her classmates couldn’t see. Thankfully practical classes were over for the week, which was one worry crossed off of Byleth’s lengthy checklist.
To think she hadn’t paid Edelgard much mind before. Sothis refused to let her dwell in guilt, though, and Byleth had no other option but to try and pay attention to her students more in the future. Edelgard more so than the rest.
She didn’t mean to play favourites or anything, but something must have been noticeable for Dorothea to show up at Byleth’s office out of the blue with a gleaming smile and a tray of tea.
“Professor!” she sang, knocking on the door at the same time she came in, which entirely defeated the purpose of knocking. “Could you spare me a moment?”
“Sure.” Not that Byleth had much paperwork, if any. The church was very hands off when it came to a formal school structure.
Dorothea plopped down into one of the chairs across from Byleth’s desk with a sigh, setting the tray onto the corner. “Thank you ever so much. You see, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this for a while but have never found the chance to do so until now.”
Her hands flew over the tea set with an almost magical deftness, and Byleth barely managed a “no sugar” before they each had a steaming cup in front of them. Carefully, she took a sip. Even without sugar, it was sweet.
“So,” Dorothea said, stirring her cup. “This may be a bit invasive, and feel free to stop me if I’m out of line…”
She had better not confess, Sothis whined in the back of Byleth’s mind. Goddess knows you’d destroy the poor girl’s heart letting her down. If I even let you run your mouth.
“... but I would like to know your intentions towards Edie. If that’s okay.”
Oh. Byleth blinked. That came a bit out of left field. Then again, she knew the two were close, what with Dorothea threatening Edelgard with operas about her left and right. Maybe she was acting like a creepy teacher after all.
“I won’t hurt her,” Byleth said eventually. “Ah. That sounds bad.”
Dorothea giggled, albeit with caution. “It sort of does, Professor.”
“I noticed she works too hard,” she continued, careful not to reveal anything Edelgard didn’t want to reveal, “and I am trying to help ease her burdens. As much as I can as a teacher.”
“Hm.” For a second Dorothea’s face was unreadable, but it switched back to her normal disposition fast enough for Byleth to think she’d imagined it. “I suppose that makes sense. And I didn’t mean to pry, but you have been staring at her a lot lately.”
Oh. “Have I?”
“Not so noticeable that someone without my eye for detail would pick up on it,” Dorothea assured. “And you are around our age. I think.”
“I hope I am,” Byleth said. She took another sip of her tea, the faint sweetness starting to grow on her.
Dorothea sighed, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “No matter. I’m relieved that you’re only looking out for Edie, even if it is in one of your strange ways. Ah! Not that you’re strange, Professor. Well, not very strange. I’m just surprised that you were thinking of Edie! Usually you’re quite oblivious when it comes to feelings, after all, and…”
Though Dorothea kept rambling, Byleth stopped hearing it after that. Was she strange? Somehow, it made her feel a faint pang of guilt, if that was how her students saw her. Maybe, to clarify—
Absolutely not. Do not say that thought you just had, lest you incur my wrath!
“I want to protect your smiles,” Byleth blurted out, cutting Dorothea off mid sentence.
Idiot.
After a second of silence, Dorothea’s face suddenly exploded into a flaming blush. “Professor!” Byleth only tilted her head to the side, confused. Was that so wrong to say? “That’s a bit bold, don’t you think?”
Byleth didn’t really think so. “The Black Eagles,” she continued. “Your smiles are important. I didn’t realize, until now.” Somehow, that made Dorothea even redder. Strange. “I intend to protect them, from now on.”
Dorothea didn’t say much after that, though her cheeks stayed pink throughout the rest of their meeting. After a few hasty bows and some apologies, she left Byleth as alone as she could be with Sothis throwing a tantrum in her mind.
She’d told Dorothea the truth, though, even if she hadn’t known until she’d spoke it. The Black Eagles were important, all of them. Not just Edelgard.
And for a monster without a heart, Byleth still thought their smiles made her pretty dang happy.
Slowly, as the days went on, Byleth thought she had started to understand the feeling of happiness on her own. Sothis still nagged her every conversation and pointed out every glaring mistake of etiquette, but she was learning. Who knew there were so many different kinds of feelings?
Take Petra, for example. Maybe the only one of the Black Eagles Byleth could talk to without coming off as rude. When she smiled Byleth felt a distinct jolt of pride unique from all the others, as if she had discovered a rare treasure. Not that Petra’s smiles were rare.
Getting Bernadetta or Linhardt to smile was a relief, since they rarely did. Linhardt’s somehow exuded a cocky confidence that didn’t fit his droopy demeanor, while Bernadetta still had to work on stopping the corners of her mouth from trembling. Both were good smiles, Byleth decided. She liked them a lot.
Caspar’s was… okay, maybe a bit irritating at times, since his smiles came with ear-splitting yells. And Ferdinand’s was a bit too smug for his own good. But she was glad that they smiled often, the frequency making up for the flaws.
Hubert’s was just creepy. Byleth would still protect it, though. She was creepy too, wasn’t she?
That left Dorothea and Edelgard, Byleth thought, absentmindedly going through her students on her way to class. Sothis’s taunts of being a creep had been tuned out a long time ago.
Dorothea smiled like she had a secret, which wasn’t a bad thing. Maybe if she smiled enough Byleth would learn what that secret was. And then Edelgard—
When Byleth pushed the door to her class a deafening POP rang out, and something sparkly rained down onto her head. She flinched, almost reaching for her non-existent sword, before realizing what was going on.
Oh. She’d forgotten.
“Happy birthday, Professor!” Caspar hollered from on top of a desk, and the rest of the class broke into applause. A sloppily painted banner hung just over him, dangerously close to falling. And were those Bernadetta’s arrows holding it up?
Byleth, stunned, reached up into her hair and brushed out some twinkling fragments of stardust.
“It’s a mini Meteor spell,” Dorothea said, appearing beside Byleth as if she’d read her mind. “Hubert helped me tone it down a bit. Isn’t it pretty?”
Really pretty, Byleth wanted to say, but she couldn’t find the words.
“We came to the thought that you might forget your own day of birth,” Petra continued, easily picking Caspar off the desk by the armpits and setting him down on the ground despite his protests. “And although we do not know your exact age, it is still fun to celebrate, is it not?”
“All thanks to Lady Edelgard, of course.” That was Hubert, ever the loyal servant. His smile looked decidedly happier than usual, Byleth noticed, and she felt maybe the tiniest bit proud of him.
Edelgard, at the centre as always, held out her arms, and it was only then that Byleth noticed the cake she held. It was clearly a student-made one, with how sloppy the frosting was, and she had a sneaking suspicion they’d tried to cook it with magic. “Here, Professor. This is from all of us.”
“Don’t worry,” Lindhard piped up. “I made sure Dorothea stayed far away from it.”
“Excuse me?!”
“Wow.” That was all Byleth could really say. She knew her students respected her, or at least she hoped they did, but an impromptu birthday celebration was completely out of the blue. “Thank you. Really.”
It was a lackluster response, maybe, but her students seemed used to the blank stares and short answers by now. Ferdinand and Bernadetta dragged her by each arm into the classroom, Edelgard put the cake down on a desk, and Hubert produced a malicious-looking knife out of who-knew-where and insisted she made the first cut.
Cakes probably weren’t supposed to be crunchy when you cut into them, Byleth noted, but she didn’t care. It was the best birthday cake she’d ever received.
Somehow Dorothea had managed to move the piano from the chapel’s storage room into the classroom—How were they going to get it back?—and she led the rest of the class along to some upbeat tunes, singing all the while. Byleth much preferred to stand at the side of the makeshift dance floor and watch, half eaten slice of cake in hand.
“I can’t believe they got Linhardt out there,” a voice said from Byleth’s side, and she nearly jumped. Edelgard, slightly breathless from Ferdinand’s ‘dance contest’, grinned back at her. “How impressive.”
None of them could really dance, if what they were doing could be described as such. Petra was the closest, though it looked more like a martial art. Bernadetta stood frozen—possibly fainted, but at least she tried—while Caspar and Linhardt absolutely massacred the waltz. Hubert was Hubert. Ferdinand tried his best.
Byleth thought that this was maybe the happiest her unbeating heart had ever felt.
“Dorothea told me what you said, you know,” Edelgard said as quietly as she could over the noise. “Protect our smiles? Really now, Professor.”
“I’m bad at words,” Byleth managed, proving her statement immediately. Edelgard’s eyes crinkled as she laughed, and immediately Byleth’s train of thought snapped back to where it was before she had entered the classroom.
Why did Edelgard’s smile do that? None of the others drew her in like she did, or made her feel the same intense desire to protect she had discovered. The two of them were quite similar, Byleth thought, so perhaps the feeling was her selfish desire to have a smile of her own.
“Professor?” Edelgard’s voice drew Byleth back to reality in time to hear her ask, “Was this alright?”
Byleth stared out at her chaotic classroom, crunchy cake weighing down her plate and Dorothea’s music echoing up to the ceiling.
“Yeah,” she decided. “It was.”
Byleth didn’t expect to discover sadness so soon after. She didn’t expect to learn what tears felt like.
Monica stabbed her father once, and Byleth panicked. Sothis! she screamed in her mind, and instantly time flashed back to where it had been a minute ago. She could still save him, since now she knew what would happen—
But she didn’t.
As Jeralt lay in her arms and spoke with strangled breaths, something squeezed in Byleth’s chest hard enough to hurt. A sensation like needles pricking behind her eyes followed, and before she realized it had started raining.
Wait, no. It wasn’t, was it?
“To think,” Jeralt gasped, the light fading from his eyes, “that the first time I saw you cry, your tears would be for me.”
So this is crying, Byleth thought, hot liquid streaking out of the corners of her eyes. This is what it’s like to feel sad.
It started to pour seconds later, and then Byleth could barely remember anything after that. Somehow, she got back to her quarters. Goddess knew how. The tears were gone, but the squeezing ache in her chest remained.
She definitely didn’t feel like smiling now.
The moon had fully risen by the time she gathered the energy to sit up. The slats of the ceiling appeared behind her eyelids every time she blinked. Sothis said nothing, though Byleth could feel a similar sadness that didn’t belong to her, as well as something else.
“It’s not your fault,” Byleth said quietly. Still no response, but she didn’t expect one yet. They were both grieving in their own ways, she supposed.
When she pulled the door open to get some air an assortment of things tumbled into her room. For a second Byleth had no idea what they were, until she caught sight of a red envelope with her name scrawled across in Edelgard’s perfect handwriting.
She opened that one first.
I’m here if you need me, it read, and nothing more. The others were similar; no empty condolences or well-wishes. Somehow, her students knew what she needed even more than herself.
Along with the letters came flowers from Ferdinand and a small dinner from Bernadetta. Hubert didn’t write a card, but left a black eagle feather and a well of ink. Byleth made sure to place it carefully on her desk, along with the rest of the cards.
The ache had softened, she realized, and she almost felt the pricking at the back of her eyes again. But she wasn’t sad at receiving the gifts, so it was a bit strange to want to cry, wasn’t it?.
Byleth’s eyes fell on the red envelope again, and her heart squeezed, and before she knew it she was sprinting towards the students’ dorm as fast as she possibly could.
It was because they were similar, Byleth decided between gasps for breath. Frustrated, she unclasped her jacket and let it fly off behind her, not caring where it ended up. Edelgard understood. Edelgard understood her, the unfeeling monster, when no one else had even tried to before.
She ran faster and faster and faster, and before she knew Edelgard’s door loomed in front of her. It perfectly mimicked their first meeting, almost down to the time, she realized. Before she could raise her hand to knock the door flew open, and Edelgard stood before her with the same sad eyes as always.
But this time they’re sad for me.
“I’m sorry,” Edelgard whispered, and once again Byleth started to cry.
She was the Flame Emperor.
Byleth didn’t know what to believe anymore.
Edelgard knelt before her, her normally pristine white hair matted and thick with soot. The Black Eagles still fought against the remains of Edelgard’s forces, but with the Sword of the Creator against her throat even Edelgard knew she had lost.
“Why,” Byleth choked out over Rhea’s curses. “I thought—”
“Sorry, Professor.” The fake smile returned, Edelgard keeping her head high even though she’d been brought to her knees. Hubert, ever her shadow, could do nothing but glare, the threat of her death too much to go against.
Behind Byleth, Rhea made a sound almost like a growl and proclaimed, “Kill her, Byleth. She dare turn against the Goddess, the crests? Kill her!”
Despite the battle raging around them, the only thing Byleth could hear was the blood rushing in her ears. Without Sothis her mind was uncannily silent, and so far no one had appeared to offer her some miraculous way out.
Somehow, she’d have to make a miracle all on her own.
“My teacher,” Edelgard managed, throat bobbing around the point of Byleth’s sword. “No matter what you may think of me now, know that I cherished the time we had.”
“Do it, Byleth!”
“I do not resent you for what you have to do.”
“What are you waiting for?!”
“Please,” she whispered, and a ghost of a genuine smile spread across Edelgard’s features, striking Byleth to her very core. “End this.”
From behind Rhea made a noise halfway between a scream and a roar. “If you cannot do this,” she spat, the distinct sound of a weapon being drawn grating beneath her words, “then I will just kill her myself!”
Rhea lunged past Byleth, knife aimed directly at Edelgard’s heart. Immediately Byleth felt the surge of an emotion she had never felt before, and with a speed she didn’t know she possessed she grabbed Rhea by the wrist and yanked.
With a stunned screech Rhea hit the dirt, knife clattering away. She scrambled backwards in an attempt to recover, but Byleth already had the Sword of the Creator pointed directly at her. Not Edelgard.
“What are you doing?” Rhea gasped. “You dare—”
“I promised,” Byleth interrupted. All around them the battlefield slowed, every eye on the scene that was unfolding. “I promised to protect them.”
“You have a duty to the church!”
“And I promised!” Byleth yelled, raising her voice for the first time. Her hair lit up white as energy coursed through her, the Sword of the Creator unfurling and snapping like a glowing serpent. “I will protect their smiles!”
With a deafening scream Byleth swung, and her sword slashed through the pillars around them as if they weren’t even there. Part of the ceiling crashed down, dust exploding outwards and into the air, and she just managed to make out the rest of her students running towards her through the chaos before everything collapsed.
Somewhere in the dust a monstrous howl rang out, and Byleth swore she saw a winged shadow too big for any human take shape. She scrambled over to Edelgard and tugged her to her feet just as a large chunk of rubble crashed down where they had been seconds before.
Of course, Hubert saved them. His loyalty to Edelgard had no limit, Byleth knew, and as soon as the rest of the Black Eagles reached Edelgard he threw his hands out. A wave of black magic tore out of the ground and whirled around them, and suddenly—albeit in a very nauseating way—all nine of them tumbled to a grassy field in the middle of nowhere.
Compared to the hell they’d just escaped from, the peaceful silence was almost deafening.
“Edelgard—” someone gasped, at the same time that Byleth stumbled to her feet.
“What did you do, Professor?” someone else asked, but she wasn’t listening. Frantic, she finally spotted Edelgard’s bulky armor among their tangled heap and rushed over to collapse at her side.
“Are you—” Byleth tried to ask, but the rest of her sentence tangled on her tongue. Thankfully, Edelgard turned her head to face her, still caked in soot but otherwise unharmed.
“I’m fine, Professor. Thank you.” A pause. “And this may not be an appropriate tone for the situation we are in,” Edelgard continued, “but I actually cannot get up.”
Silence washed over their motley group, before Caspar burst out into a fit of cackles.
“She stuck! The Emperor is stuck!”
“Caspar!” Dorothea snapped. Her face was pale, paler than Byleth had ever seen it, and her fists shook as she spoke. “Do you not understand what just happened?”
“Yeah, Edelgard turned against the church or whatever. Doesn’t really matter to me.” He stretched his arms over his head, bulky gauntlets gleaming in the sunset, and proclaimed, “I’m still gonna follow her no matter what, so no point in wasting energy getting worried about consequences, right?”
“The Knights of Seiros will be after us,” Ferdinand shot back. Even he looked scared, all of his former confidence gone. “And if we do manage to flee to the empire, we’ll be hunted down by maybe even Rhea herself.”
“So?”
“Did you not see what she turned into?”
“The Immaculate One,” Hubert hissed under his breath. When heads turned his way he clarified, “It is what Rhea is, beneath her human shell. A monster, ruling the church from the shadows.”
Caspar snorted, and started unstrapping his weapons. “Whatever. She’s just some big dragon; I bet even Bernadetta could take her out.” Nevertheless he stopped talking back, and silence once again engulfed the group.
Eventually, with some help from Byleth, Edelgard managed to remove her armor and sit up. The first words out of her mouth were, unsurprisingly, “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Byleth interjected. For some reason she felt like talking more, although her words were just as stilted as before.
“But I caused this. I have drawn all of you into this war without considering the consequences!” It was rare for Edelgard to raise her voice, and even rarer for her emotions to display on her face. And yet here she was, blinking back tears and clenching her fists hard enough for the knuckles to turn white.
“Whoa, whoa whoa whoa.” Caspar interrupted Edelgard with his hands, waving them back and forth in time with his words. “Let’s get one thing straight. I’m here because I want to be, okay? You haven’t caused squat.”
“But—”
“Do you think I could live peacefully at the church knowing what Rhea is now?” Linhardt added. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
“But we will have to fight, possibly against our old classmates—”
“So what!” Petra snapped back. Her normal smile was gone, her eyes burning with pure determination. Such a drastic change made even Hubert flinch, though it was more of a blink than a shiver. “It is you who we believe in, Edelgard. That is why you are our leader. Do not attempt to decide our feelings for us!”
“I…” Edelgard, struck dumb, could only nod. She unclenched her fists and stared down at her lap, fingers trembling almost imperceptibly.
“And we won’t die,” Bernadetta breathed out. She squeaked when everyone turned to face her, but managed, “I-if that’s what you’re worried about. Um, if it’s not, then forget I said anything. P-please.”
“And,” Hubert rumbled, “we have our professor.”
All heads turned to Byleth, oddly reminiscent of when she stood at the front of the classroom to teach. No one was smiling, and the situation was far from favourable, but Byleth almost felt relieved.
They were still the same. Even if Edelgard had turned on the church, even if Edelgard’s facade was cracking, even if Edelgard had plans to fight gods. Byleth, at that moment, knew Edelgard’s makeshift family would follow her anywhere.
And she would too.
“I believe in Edelgard,” Byleth started with, and immediately Edelgard went red, Dorothea stifling a giggle and Hubert shooting her a dirty look. Strange. “If anyone can unite Fódlan, I believe it’s her.”
“That’s… Professor. You can’t just say stuff like that.” But despite her protests a small smile bloomed on Edelgard’s face, genuine and grateful. And though her eyes were filled with tears, Byleth suddenly noticed the distinct lack of sadness behind those tears.
So this was Edelgard’s true smile. Byleth liked it a lot.
Someone gasped, and Edelgard’s hands flew to her mouth, her eyes wide. Byleth blinked at the sudden change. “What?”
“You… you’re—”
“Professor smiled,” Dorothea breathed, and Byleth’s heart leapt in her throat.
Somehow, despite what they were told, two heartless souls had together learned to smile.