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Chapter Text

After completing her tasks for the day, Byleth went up to the audience chamber to see if Lady Rhea needed anything else done in preparation for her visitors from Fhirdiad. What she did not expect to see when she entered the large room was Seteth in a near screaming match with his little sister, that the archbishop somehow found herself in the middle of.

“He just wants one dance with me brother, how is that so bad!?!”

“Flayn, a man never wants “just one dance”. It starts with a dance, sure, then it moves onto a kiss. Then, he’s asking you to go outside with him to ‘get some air’. Next thing you know, you’ve thrown your entire life away to carry his baby while he’s too busy knocking up every other girl in the village to take care of it!”

Flayn's tiny body shook with anger. "I’m not getting pregnant from a damn dance, brother!”

With her head in her hands, clearly exhausted by the sight in front of her, Lady Rhea finally spoke up: “Seteth, your sister is fifteen now. She should be allowed to dance with a partner of the opposite sex if she wishes to. That doesn’t mean it will spiral into anything untoward, or goddess forbid, a pregnancy.”

Despite Rhea’s calm and logical demeanor, Seteth didn’t seem satisfied with this answer. With his index finger pointed directly to her face, he said harshly to his younger sister, “We will discuss this later.” He turns to leave the chamber in a huff, soon enough coming face to face with Byleth. His eyes go wide as he realizes that the young woman must have overheard this entire outburst.

“Good day, Miss Eisner. I’m sorry you had to see that.” He said in a surprisingly calm tone of voice before quickly making his leave. Lady Rhea pursed her lips, then quickly shifted her face to a smile when she made direct eye contact with her trusted ward.

“Byleth! How are you this morning?”

“Very well, Lady Rhea.” Byleth answered with a polite bow. “I finished tending to the flowers in the greenhouse, they should be ready for harvest by the time of the ball. Is there anything else you would like me to do?”

“You’ve done more than enough today, Byleth. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for all your hard work. You are dismissed.”

Byleth nodded and turned to leave, but not before being stopped by an overly excited Flayn.

“Wait! Byleth, have you eaten today?” She turned back around and shook her head, which made the green-haired girl in front of her grin. “Great! I was just about to go to the dining hall myself. This way we can share a meal together! It’s been so long since we’ve gotten to do that, hasn’t it?”

“It certainly has.” Byleth responded, a hint of skepticism in her voice. The last time she shared a meal with Flayn was because the younger girl wanted her advice on gaining the affections of the male students at the academy, a subject which Byleth was neither qualified nor interested in helping with. Spears, swords, hell even bows and arrows were a much preferred topic of conversation in her mind, but Flayn did not let up easily. It wasn’t until Byleth’s only responses to this conversation came in grunts that Flayn realized how truly disinterested she was in the topic, which led to both of them staring down at their plates for the rest of the meal in uncomfortable silence. If she really wanted to replicate that silence while she ate, she would have been better off eating by herself.

But Flayn’s wide, doe-like eyes and pleading expression were enough to make Byleth agree to join her for lunch despite her reservations. While they had their differences, Byleth still had a soft spot for the girl who wandered around the monastery with little purpose; she reminded her a lot of herself in that way.

When her father and his group of mercenaries were killed in a sudden ambush, Byleth was rescued by a tall woman with mint green hair, who with every swift movement of her blade cut down the ruthless attackers as if it were nothing. She introduced herself to a then sixteen-year-old Byleth as an old friend of her mother’s, and offered her safety and shelter in exchange for doing small tasks around the Monastery. With no reason to stay in place after losing Jeralt, Byleth felt she had no choice but to follow the mysterious woman all the way back to Garreg Mach, even when her eyes still stung with tears from losing the only person she ever truly loved.

Flayn and Byleth made their way into the dining hall, another large room filled by the sounds of hundreds academy students yelling, laughing, and loudly slurping up their food as if they were eating their last meals. The whole thing was a sensory nightmare enough to give Byleth a headache just moments after walking in. If she hadn’t already made a promise to Flayn, she would have much preferred to take a meal back to her room and enjoy it in silence.

“If you can find us a table, I can go get us some food!” Flayn suggested with her usual unwavering enthusiasm. “What would you like?”

Byleth shrugged. “Anything’s fine with me.” Flayn tapped her chin with her index finger as if she were deep in thought before proudly responding: “I know! They’ve got a wonderful Grilled Heming dish here, just like mother used to make! I’ll get us two!” The green-haired girl happily ran over to the serving line while Byleth grabbed a table near the exit. After a few minutes, Flynn came back with two large plates in hand and set one down directly in front of Byleth. The blue haired girl let out a quiet “thank you” before digging in, not realizing just how hungry she was until she felt her mouth water at the sight of the food sitting before her.

“So… are you excited for the ball this weekend?” Flayn asked as Byleth scarfed down her food like a wild animal. She reluctantly answered, “Not really. Everything gets way too loud. Even outside the main hall there’s no way to escape it. I prefer the quiet.”

Flayn frowned. “You’re not even looking forward to dancing?”

“I don’t dance.” Byleth said coldly, without making eye contact with the clearly disappointed girl across from her. “And there’s a lot of strangers coming in from all around Fodlan. Lady Rhea said it could be dangerous if I were spotted.”

“Oh.” Flayn muttered quietly. She had temporarily forgotten how Byleth ended up at the monastery, as it felt like her friend had been there just as long as she had. But the disappointment did not last long as Flayn loudly continued,“You know, this year the ball is being hosted by the Kingdom of Faerghus. There’s a rumor going around that the soon-to-be-king is trying to find his soon-to-be-queen!” She giggled as she made it through the last sentence.

“You say that like you want it to be you.”

Flayn rolled her eyes. “Well who wouldn’t? Have you seen Prince Dimitri?”

Byleth shook her head. “The only lord I’ve met is the one with the bow and arrow who winks a lot.”

“Duke Claude! Oh, talk about another dreamy man!” Flayn exclaimed, with a lovestruck expression about her face. Byleth just continued to stare down at her plate. When she met Claude last year, she didn’t think much of him. He was nice, sure, but a little too handsy for her taste; when Lady Rhea introduced the duke to her ward, Claude immediately took her hand and pressed it into his lips.

“How lovely to meet you, Miss Eisner. I would hope a beautiful girl like you would save me a dance at the ball later tonight?” He asked with a wink.

Byleth did not see him later that night, nor did she have any desire to in the future. She did, however, have a desire to thoroughly wash her hands after that encounter.

“Claude is cute, but there’s just something about the Prince.” Flayn continued while tapping her chin with the end of her fork. “He’s gorgeous, but kinda shy. Doesn’t really seem interested in romance… which of course just makes him hotter!” She giggled. Byleth wanted nothing more than for this conversation to be over already.

“You know, with him and his advisors meeting up with Lady Rhea this afternoon, maybe now’s your chance to sneak a peek?”

Byleth finally looked up from the plate. “Flayn, I really couldn't care less what the Prince looks like.”

Flayn frowned. “I guess I should have expected that.” Then, that frown slowly turned into a mischievous grin. “So if you really don’t care, you wouldn’t mind helping me get a better look at the prince? Say, find a hiding spot somewhere in the audience chamber?”

Now it was Byleth’s turn to frown. “Seteth would kill me if I helped you navigate the vents.” Byleth knew the vent systems of the Monastery well due to her unending combination of curiosity and boredom during her first year at Garreg Mach. She knew exactly where to go to get the best view of the audience chamber, a fact that Flayn knew well since that time she looked up during a private meeting with her brother and Lady Rhea and made direct eye contact with the girl staring at her from inside the ceiling. Byleth was forever grateful that this didn’t startle Flayn, because if she had made any noise indicating where Byleth was, she never would have heard the end of it from Seteth.

“He doesn’t have to know! Please Byleth, I’d do anything!”

Byleth sighed. “Why can’t you just talk to him at the ball?” Flayn shook her head violently, emphasizing her distaste at the question. “I already promised to dance with Raphael! If I want to keep him from getting upset, all I can do is make the occasional glance over at the prince. This is the only way I can really take him in while he’s here!”

Byleth placed her hand over her face, just as Lady Rhea did when trying to calm down Seteth and Flayn from this morning's argument. “You do realize how ridiculous you sound, right? He’s just a person, not a God.”

“Byleth, pleeaaase!” Flayn whined, the young girl refusing to back down. So, after a few minutes of back and forth, Byleth finally caved and agreed to help the girl navigate the ceiling vents, giving her the chance to fulfill her dream of seeing "the love of her life" from a twenty foot distance.

************************

Stuck in the vent tunnel with her, Byleth was suddenly thankful that Flayn was a rather small girl, giving her slightly more room to move around the cramped space. Rhea and Seteth were the only two people standing in the large room below them until a loud knock came from the door.

“You may enter.” Lady Rhea’s booming voice quickly filled the whole room. Byleth could hear the door open but still couldn’t see the figures who had walked through yet. Flayn squirmed impatiently next to her, hoping that the prince would move soon enough into their line of sight.

“A pleasure to see you again, Lady Rhea.” A man with long dark hair approached the archbishop, then bowed before her. The crown prince was still nowhere to be seen. Byleth could feel Flayn’s warm breath growing against the back of her neck and had to gather all sense of self restraint in that moment so as not to smack the younger girl upside the head to get her to stop.

“Please, the pleasure is all mine. I did have an introductory question for you, Lord Rodrigue: would you prefer a blue color palette for the ball decorations, or something more neutral for the guests from other parts of the land?”

The dark haired man now identified as Rodrigue shakes his head. “The decision is not up to me, but rather, his highness.” He turns to a still unidentified figure to his left, just out of the vent’s line of sight. Flayn’s breath is getting louder and warmer. Byleth still isn’t quite sure why she agreed to do this.

“I do think a more neutral palette may be best, Lady Rhea. This is a celebration for all of Fodlan after all, not just the kingdom.” A baritone voice responded, still out of frame. It caught Byleth off guard for a second; she did not expect a prince to have such a deep voice.

“Although,” Rodrigue interjects with his index finger pointed up in the air, “when last year’s ball was headed by the Leicester Alliance, Duke Von Riegan had no hesitation to bathe the entrance hall in gold and black.” The older man then rolled his eyes. “Or putting up all those insufferable deer decorations. I mean, really, was it necessary to put deer antlers on a chocolate fountain?”

Indicated with a small gasp from Flayn, the Prince of Faerghus finally stepped into frame.

“There’s no need to compare our two territories, Rodrigue. Claude made his decisions last year, just as I shall make my own now that it’s our turn.” He turned his direction towards Lady Rhea. "I still think the neutral palette sounds like the best option."

If Byleth didn’t know any better, she’d say the deep baritone couldn’t possibly be coming from the well dressed man standing before her. He was a vision in black and blue, very tall and thin, but clearly muscular even with his more conservative royal attire covering him up. But the part that fascinated her the most were the more boyish features of his face: messy fragments of blonde hair falling down his forehead just above his bright blue eyes, his delicate smile that made a warm feeling spread across her chest, as though that smile alone could have kept her warm even on her coldest nights.

Byleth suddenly wondered if this was how Flayn felt every time she spoke to any of the male students at the academy.

Speaking of Flayn, the girl next to her was giggling obnoxiously at the sight of the Prince, to which Byleth had to forcefully put her finger over her mouth to indicate a need to be quiet so neither of them were caught. Flayn thankfully understood the message and quickly dropped her lovestruck schoolgirl act, going back to watching the scene play out quietly. Byleth looked back down at the prince, now deep in conversation over ball preparations with the archbishop, who politely smiled and nodded in response to every word he said. Byleth didn’t pay much attention to his words, but rather the way in which he would said them, moving his large hands excitedly as he spoke with such fervor; it was honestly quite entrancing. Like she would have stared at him like this all day if she could.

But his excitement was cut short by Rodrigue, who said: “There's also been a lot of talk throughout the kingdom of Dimitri taking a wife. You know, his parents met at this very ball all those years ago.”

Dimitri stared down at the ground, shifting uncomfortably between his feet. “Yes, I know there is talk of me finding a queen. But as I’ve already expressed: only when the time comes and I have met someone I see fit shall I marry. Finding a wife is not the purpose of this ball, nor what I intend to do.”

Flayn sighed disappointedly. Byleth on the other hand was impressed, appreciating the prince’s confidence and determination to not be told what to do. From talk around the academy, she knew that the prince’s family had been killed in a great tragedy a few years before, similar to her own. However, she couldn’t imagine being thrust into the position of running a kingdom after Jeralt’s death. How the blonde man in front of her did it, she had no idea.

“We can leave if you want. I think I’ve seen enough.” Flayn whispered, but Byleth didn’t move. She didn’t move at all until all four figures left the room, moving to see the main hall in which the ball would be thrown. It wasn’t until they left that Byleth realized she was staring, just as Flayn had noticed too. The green-haired girl grinned, again mischievously, from ear to ear.

“You like him, don’t you?”

Byleth could fell her cheeks turning pink. “No. Why would you say that?”

“You’re blushing! Oh my goddess, you’re having your first crush and it’s on the prince!” Flayn giggled while Byleth quickly moved to crawl back the way they came through the vents. She was not going to sit here and take this from the girl who developed a crush on every man she saw. Flayn yelped from behind her, trying to chastise the older girl for leaving her behind, but Byleth quickly tuned it out. She could admit to herself that, yes, the prince was conventionally attractive. But why did that matter? It’s not like she could do anything about it, a former mercenary turned glorified maid for the archbishop. What would a prince ever want to do with a girl like her?

Chapter Text

During the carriage ride back from the monastery, Dimitri stared out at the grasslands before him in a comfortable silence. The landscape was peaceful and serene, much unlike the hectic day he’s had so far. 

Despite Rodrigue having explained his “princely duties” to him a thousand times over, Dimitri still did not understand why party planning was one of them. Yes, he understood that it was considered a great honor to host the annual Garreg Mach Ball, an honor once held by his father before him, but did he really need to travel all the way to Garreg Mach to answer a million questions on food and decoration? Are there not more important issues pertaining the kingdom, or hell, even all of Fodlan, than whether the cutlery should match the placemats? 

“Your Highness, you’ve been awfully quiet. Are you feeling well?” Rodrigue asks gently, causing Dimitri to look up and come eye-to-eye with his stoic advisor. 

“I’m going to be honest with you, Rodrigue; I really didn’t appreciate you telling the archbishop about my failed attempts at courtship.” 

Rodrigue frowns. “It’s a pressing issue on everyone's mind!” He defends, which causes Dimitri to turn his head away and go back to staring out at the fields ahead of them. 

His royal advisor sighed. “Listen, I understand your dislike for courtship, I really do. But Your Highness, the kingdom is in a very uneasy place right now with these recent attacks from Solon.” Dimitri shifted uncomfortably in his seat at that casual mention of the dark mage. “Goddess forbid something were to happen to you, you would not only be throwing your people into a mass state of grief, but also leaving them without an heir to the throne.” Rodrigue shook his head. “And it really doesn’t help the way you like to rush into battle without thinking.” 

“The people need protecting, Rodrigue.” 

“That’s what the knights are for Dimtiri, not you running headfirst into a fight with nothing but a lance.”

Dimitri shrugs, still avoiding eye contact. “My crest protects me.” 

“But you can’t rely on - ” Rodrigue catches himself as he feels himself starting to raise his voice. He doesn’t remember Lambert being this stubborn when he was in charge. Then again, there was probably a lot about the previous King that Rodrigue chose not to remember. “Dimitri, please: be open to the idea of marriage, at the very least. You don’t have to propose to anyone anytime soon, but if you put yourself out there and asked a few of the eligible young ladies to dance at this ball, I would be more than content. Is that really so much to ask?” 

Dimitri pursed his lips, as if deep in thought. After a few moments, he answered, “Fine. I will consider that much.”

“Good. That is all I request.” They both went back to sitting in silence for the rest of the carriage ride. 

*****************

Returning to the palace at Fhirdiad, Dimitri was greeted eagerly by an armor-clad Dedue. “Your Highness,” he said with a polite bow as Dimitri stepped out of the carriage, “how was your trip?” 

“Fine, nothing worth noting. Lady Rhea seems to be handling the ball preparations quite well herself, I’m not really sure why I was there. How have things been here?” 

“Quite alright. Lord Gautier is here and has requested to speak with you at your earliest convenience.” 

“Audience chamber?” 

Dedue nodded, which made Dimitri smile. “Well, I better not keep him waiting. It must be urgent if he came all the way here.” Dedue smiled back at him, both knowing the chances of anything actually being wrong with the Gautier’s was slim and it was much more likely that their old friend Sylvain was just bored and wanted to hang out; a rare opportunity to wave responsibility that the prince would not take for granted. 

“Your Highness, a word please.” 

But the sound of Rodrigue’s voice pulled him back to reality; he turned around and asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice, “Yes Rodrigue, what is it?” 

"Please be back in the main chamber by five PM sharp. You have important documents from Parliament that need signing and can not wait any longer.” 

Dimitri frowned. “Yes Lord Fraldarius”, he mocked before following Dedue into the castle and down the long hallway to the audience chamber. 

Being able to spot his red hair from a mile away, Dimitri yelled for his old friend to turn around as he and Dedue walked through the large set of doors. When he did, a large smile crept over his face as he gave Dimitri a once over with his eyes. 

“Hey your beastliness. You need a haircut.”

“And you need a shower. I can smell you from here.” 

Sylvain laughed at the crude remark and threw his arms around the prince. “It’s been far too long good buddy!” 

“I agree. What have you been up to? Chasing the skirt of every girl in the kingdom?”

Sylvain scoffed. “No!” Then smiled. “More like half.” Dimitri laughed as he pulled away from the hug. 

“Dedue tells me you were back at the monastery today. So tell me Your Highness, how are ball preparations going? You excited?” 

Dimitri grimaced. “Much more excited for it to be over, to be honest.”

“Oh come on! Pretty girls from all over Fodlan, dressed to the nines and starved for romance, what’s not to love?” Sylvain stretched his arms up around the back of his head in one of his usual poses that Dimitri secretly always found irksome. The prince crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Sorry we can’t all go to the ball just to pick up women, but some of us have actual responsibilities to attend to. Meeting with heads of state, setting up diplomatic affairs, you know, my job .”

Sylvain rolled his eyes. “Oh, lighten up. It’s a party for goddess’ sake!” He didn't seem to understand that was exactly why Dimitri hated it. The red haired noble now turned his attention towards Dedue. “Come on Dedue, at least tell me that you’re planning to let loose at this thing?”

“As long as His Highness has no other duties for me to attend to, I promise you I will.” Dedue’s response makes Dimitri shake his head. “Dedue, no. You should go to have fun, not be worried about me the whole time.” He hated that Dedue felt the need to always be at his beck and call. Just because he saved the man's life once doesn’t mean he owes the rest of it to him. But no matter how many times they had this exact conversation, the man from Duscar just never seemed to back down. 

“Sounds like you should take your own advice, Dima.” Sylvain snarled as he leaned up against one of the chamber columns. Dimitri grunted. 

“Sylvain, did you come here for any other reason than to insult me?” 

“No,” He grinned again. “I’m also here for the free food. Whaddya say, who’s up for an early dinner?” 

Despite his friend from Duscar’s usual stoic nature, Dimitri could have sworn he heard Dedue snicker at Sylvain’s attempt at humor. 

“Okay, but seriously, Dimitri: you can’t think of a single woman you’d want to dance with at this thing? There’s tons of attractive ones out there! A handsome guy like you? All you’d have to do is throw the bait and watch ‘em bite!””

With that, the final piece of the puzzle connected in Dimitri’s brain.

“Sylvain, did Felix send you here?”

“What? No! Why would you think that?” Sylvain questioned as he pulled back a strand of red hair from his face around his ear. Dimitri frowned. That was his tell.

“I know you’re lying. Great, now everyone in the Fraldraius family is scheming to find me a wife.” 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing!” 

Despite his friend’s best efforts, Dimitri was not entertained by that answer. Sylvain sighed. “Come on Dimitri, we’re not pulling teeth here. Finding a queen could be good for you! You’d have someone to share your nights with, plus you look more respectable in the eyes of the noble families, which in turn will make it much easier to pass whatever laws in Parliament you want! Would that really be such a bad thing?”  

Dimitri didn’t even dignify the question with a response, instead turning around and heading to his own private chambers. 

“Oh come on Dima! Is it cause I said wife? I’m not a bigot, a husband would work too!”

Again, no response from the prince as he trudged down the hallway like a toddler throwing a tantrum. He was tired of the constant conversation swirling around his love life these days. He hated being set up on dates by Rodrigue, courting noble woman who wouldn’t have given him a second look had he not been the future King of Faerghus. Most of them were airy and conceited, and the few that weren’t seemed to be just as reluctant to romance as Dimitri was. Of course, it didn’t help that his father fell madly in love with his step-mother at the Garreg Mach Ball sixteen years ago, the first time that King Lambert hosted the ball as representative of Faerghus just as Dimitri was doing this year. History repeats itself they say, but Dimitri knew deep down there was no such thing as love at first sight. Lust, maybe. He was only doing this to fulfill his royal duty, there was absolutely no way he was leaving this ball with a future wife in tow. He was not his father, and everyone just needed to accept that once and for all. 

Of course you’re not. It’s not like anyone could ever really love you anyway. 

The cold, familiar voice made Dimitri stop dead in his tracks. 

How can you say that you love someone when you won’t even avenge their death? After everything they sacrificed so that you may live?

Appearing in front of him were figures he knew all to well: his father, bleeding out on the ground just as he had been when Dimitri last saw him alive, his step-mother, standing before him with the arrow that killed her still stuck through her chest, and his oldest friend Glenn, whose head was completely disconnected from his body but still somehow found the ability to speak to whenever the prince least needed it.

“Father…” Dimitri shuddered at the horrific images before him. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry…”

SHUT UP! If you were really sorry, you would bring us our tribute, not run around playing party planner for a kingdom that everyone thinks you’re too weak to protect!

“I am trying, father! I’ve been hunting him, I swear, but he just keeps escaping me! I just can’t -” 

Suddenly, Dimitri couldn’t catch his breath. It felt as though an invisible hand had reached out to choke him. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that hand belonged to his father, tired of hearing the same excuses from the son he didn’t love anymore. 

“Dimitri, avenge us!” His step mother cried. 

“Dimitri, I died for you.” Glenn whispered. The ghost’s voices blended together and reached a crescendo until eventually it all just became too much. The prince fell to the ground with a thud, curling his arms and legs in towards his chest, tears streaming down his face. He wanted nothing more than to just be able to block out the noise, block out the voices of the dead that pleaded to him for revenge. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t. He knew deep down they wouldn’t stop until he had breathed his very last breath. 

“Stop it. Stop it, please …” 

“Your Highness?” 

Dedue found Dimitri curled into a ball in one of the palace hallways, having never made it back to his chambers as he intended to do. He kneeled down beside the crying blonde man before him. It was not the first time he’d found Dimitri like this, but that didn’t make trying to help him any easier. 

“I don’t think Sylvain meant to offend you, Your Highness. He really is just trying to look out for you, even if it is in his own unusual way.” 

But Dimitri couldn’t bring himself to tell him that Sylvain was not the reason he was so upset. Instead, he accepted Dedue’s hand to let him up off the ground and walked beside his friend in silence back to his private chambers, quickly wiping the tears off his face in hopes that no one else today would have to see him cry. When they made it to his room, Dimitri sat down on his bed and after a few more moments of silence, timidly asked Dedue a question.

“Is Sylvain still here?” 

Dedue nodded. “He is, but he wasn’t sure if he should follow you because you seemed pretty upset. He wants you to know he will leave if you ask him to.”

Dimitri sighed. “No, I don’t want him to leave. Maybe just give me a few minutes, then I’ll be back.” 

Dedue nodded again. “Of course, Your Highness.” He said with a polite bow as he turned around and left, closing the chamber doors behind him. Dimitri was now back to being alone with his thoughts. 

No you’re not. 

Dimitri felt a sharp pain run up and down his spine as the dark voice reminded him otherwise. Of course he wasn’t. He would never be, until the day he died.

Chapter Text

Hello? HellOOOO??? Is anyone there?????

Byleth heard the shrill voice crying out again. She had been here before; many times, actually. But only in her dreams. 

Hey, you! Over there, get over here!

Byleth turned in the direction she could hear the voice coming from, but she couldn’t see anything. Despite her better interest, she decided to follow it, walking through a chasm of dark nothingness for what felt like ages until she finally saw something building up in the distance: a large white throne, and a little girl with long green hair sitting on it, staring intently at her every move like a predator watching its prey. 

As she moved closer the little girl asked, “Are you my vessel?” as she cocked her head to one side, surveying Byleth up and down with her eyes. Not understanding the question, Byleth very eloquently responded with:

“Um… what?”

The little girl shook her head in disappointment. “Never mind, I don't know what I'm saying. I guess we haven’t gotten there yet. What’s your name?”

“Byleth. What’s your’s?”

“I had a name once. It’s hard to remember…” The little girl placed her chin on top of her right fist that rested on the arm of the throne, lost in thought. She went silent until after a few moments, it finally hit her: “Sothis! That’s it! Although someone called me “The Beginning” once, I wonder who that was…”

“Hello Sothis. Why am I here?”

Sothis looked back up at her. “You’re not really here. You’re dreaming.”

Byleth crossed her arms over her chest. “I figured that. Why am I having this dream again?”

The little girl shook her head. “That is not a question for me to answer. I’m the one stuck in your mind, not the other way around.”

“But there’s no reason why I should be dreaming of you like this. I don’t know any children with green hair in real life.”

“Children!?!” The green haired girl shouted. “You think of me as a child!?! How dare you! I am no child!”

“And how could I have known that when you won’t answer any of my questions?” 

Sothis scowled at her. Byleth was sure she would snap back, but instead, her demeanor suddenly changed. She cocked her to the side and asked, “You are quite a curious one, aren’t you? Your face: it’s not as expressive as the others I’ve seen before...”

This was not a new thing for Byleth to hear. Ever since she was a child she was judged for how unexpressive she was; some people mentioned it in an accusatory way, others with more of a sense of piqued curiosity. Her father never did, though. It was why she liked him so much; he never judged her for the stoic expression that lay across her face. He never called her “The Ashen Demon” as so many others in their mercenary camp did. 

“Jeralt. I remember him, he was nice…” 

Byleth drew her hand back to the small dagger sticking out near her shorts. “How did you know I was thinking that? Can you hear my thoughts?”

Sothis shook her head. “Not exactly, but I can feel certain things that you do, strong emotions I think. It seems that you and I are connected in this strange way, but why that is is something I can’t quite figure out.” She rested her chin on her arm once more while she pondered that thought. 

“Sothis, are you active all the time, or just when I’m asleep?”

“Oh, I’m there when you’re awake.” She answered as if it were obvious. “But I know to be quiet then. I can’t go around messing with a mortal’s life… well, not anymore, anyway.”

Byleth was starting to get annoyed by the cryptic way Sothis answered all her questions, but the feeling didn’t last long as something pulled her out of the darkness that surrounded her, quickly bringing her back to her bedroom on the first floor of the Garreg Mach Monastery. 

Her eyes fluttered open as she realized what woke her up: incessant knocking at her bedroom door. “WHAT!?!” She shouted, a bit more aggressively than she meant to. 

“Byleth? You seemed pretty upset with me yesterday, I wanted to apologize. I was just teasing, I really didn’t mean anything by it!” 

Byleth sighed and rolled out of bed to open the door, knowing that Flayn would be standing on the other side of it. 

“Flayn, it’s fine.” She said as she swung open the door. “I really don’t care.” 

“I know, but I thought a lot about what you said, about not being able to go the ball, and it just made me so sad! So, I wanted to give you something that might change that!”

The green-haired girl pulled something out from behind her back, something that Byleth didn’t quite recognize at first; it looked like a large animal fur, but she knew that couldn’t be right. As her eyebrows furrowed just slightly in concentration, Flayn realized she may have to further explain this present to its unenthusiastic recipient. 

“It’s a wig! This way you can go the ball without anyone recognizing you!” 

Byleth stared at Flayn for a moment; the younger girl looked so proud of herself, grinning from ear to ear, wide eyes sparkling up at her friend. She almost didn’t have the heart to tell her that she couldn’t accept this gift. 

“Flayn, I really appreciate this, but I don’t want to go to the ball. Like I said before, it’s just not really something I’m interested in.”

Flayn frowned, an expression Byleth really hoped she could avoid having to see. “But this could be your only opportunity to talk to the Prince! Come on Byleth, I saw the way you were looking at him yesterday. Don’t you want the chance to at least try to dance with him?” 

Byleth opened her mouth, but no words came out. The truth was, going to the ball and talking to the prince did sound quite appealing to her, like something out of one of the old Knight’s tales Jeralt used to read to her when she was little. But again, why would the prince have any desire to talk to a strange girl wearing an (obviously fake) wig? Not to mention the consequences if Lady Rhea had caught her out in public like this, especially when the leader of her father’s attackers was still out there. And it would be even worse if she were too distracted attempting to flirt with the prince to defend herself from a possible ambush. She began desperately thinking of any sort of further excuse so as not to hurt the poor girl’s feelings this time. 

“Flayn, I don’t even have a dress.”

“You could borrow one of mine!” 

“It wouldn’t fit, you’re way smaller than me.”

“Then I could have one of the mage students perform a growth spell to make it your size!”

“But then you wouldn’t be able to wear it afterwards.”

“Fine by me! I have plenty of other dresses, consider this one a gift!” She was once again grinning from ear to ear, and seemingly had all the answers to any question Byleth could think of. 

There’s an obvious out here: just tell her the wig’s a bad disguise.

The voice Byleth heard ringing inside her head was not her own, but likely that of the definitely-not-a-child she now knew as Sothis. While she wasn’t a fan of Sothis’ newfound ability to interrupt her own stream of consciousness, she had to admit the advice wasn’t bad. 

“Look, I really didn’t want to say this, but…” She took a deep breath before she continued. “The wig’s not a good disguise. I think they’d still recognize me even with it on.”

Flayn frowned again, this time following it up with a sigh. “I suppose you’re right. I dunno Byleth, I just really wanted to help you. It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen you smile, I just thought, maybe I could help with that? I guess that was pretty stupid of me…”

The earnest way in which she spoke was enough to pull at Byleth’s heartstrings. As sometimes annoying as the younger girl could be, she really did mean well. The idea that she would go out of her way to buy a wig for Byleth just to make her happy did make her a lot more appreciative of Flayn’s efforts. 

“Thank you, Flayn, I do appreciate it. But I want you to know, just because I don’t smile often doesn’t mean I’m not happy. I just sometimes have a hard time showing it.” The corners of Byleth’s mouth turned up to the tiniest degree, so small you could barely notice it unless you were really concentrating. “For example, your thoughtfulness today has made me feel very happy.”

Flayn perked up again at that praise. “Really?”

“Really. In fact, would you mind joining me in the greenhouse today? There’s a lot of flowers that need to be pulled before the ball, plus I would really appreciate your company.” 

The small girl jumped up and down excitedly. “Oh, of course! I’m so honored that you would ask! Here, let me go put this” she indicated to the wig still in her hand, “back in my room and grab my gardening gloves. I’ll be right back!” She sped away as Byleth shut the door behind her.

Oh thank goodness. I thought she would never leave.

Within a second, Byleth was back in the void she usually entered in her dreams, with Sothis lying across her throne with her legs crossed and propped up on one arm of the large chair. 

“While I agree that the wig is a ridiculous disguise, I do think she’s right about the ball. You deserve to go out and have a little fun! Who cares what that big ol’ meanie Lady Rhea says?”

Byleth shook her head. “You know those mages could still be out there. Lady Rhea says it’s for my protection. Something you should really care about considering you and I are connected. Doesn’t that mean if something happens to me it happens to you too?” 

Sothis grumbled. “I guess. But I haven’t been to a ball in so long! I miss dancing, and drinking ale, and getting swept off my feet by cute noble men. I mean, that last part must excite you too, right?” She winked with her last question. 

Byleth felt herself blushing again. Curse her face for betraying her like this. 

“My own attraction to the Prince means nothing. He wouldn’t even go near me if I were at the ball.”

“Why must you think so little of yourself? You are an attractive young woman, Byleth. Even if you were wearing that hideous wig I’m sure he could find a different…” Her eyes drifted down Byleth’s body, stopping just above her stomach, “asset to keep his attention on.”

Byleth crossed her arms over her chest again, this time self-consciously. It hadn’t been the first time someone had stared at her chest like this. It happened a lot more frequently when she was a mercenary, which she used to her advantage: while a man was distracted by the small amount of cleavage shown in her armor, she could use that time to identify his weak points and determine where to strike. It was the only time she actually felt a bit “blessed” by the goddess for being given such a large chest. 

“It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to the ball.”

Sothis sighed. “Okay, fine, let’s make a deal: In a similar vein to your little friend’s wig suggestion, I could use my magic to temporarily change your appearance; not too drastically, but enough so a possible foe wouldn’t think to attack. That way you can go to the ball, dance with your prince, and maybe actually enjoy yourself for once in your life. I know I’d be excited to see that, finally.” 

Byleth didn’t quite understand what she was saying: “You can do magic? And how long have you been watching me inside my head?” 

“The whole time, sweetie!” The apparently magical little girl shouted as she swung her legs over the front of the throne to sit upright. “Although the first ten or so years were kind of a blur. But after seeing the rest of your life, I’m sure I didn’t miss much.” She began kicking her legs back and forth while Byleth realized she was not going to get an answer to her first question. “So whaddya say? Ready to have fun yet?”

Byleth stared down at her feet. “I…” She had to admit, as much as she spent her whole life swearing off this type of self congratulatory political soiree, there was a part of her that did really want to go, even if it were just to see what it was like. 

“I need to think about it.”

Sothis frowned. “Alright, fine, you have three days. I hope you make the right decision.” She extended her right arm out in front of her, pointed towards Byleth, who suddenly felt the entire room swirl around her again as she was transported back to her bedroom. The sudden shock of drifting in and out of the dark chasm gave her a brief feeling of motion sickness, causing her to sit back down on the bed for a minute, breathing heavily until she didn’t feel like she had to throw up anymore. None of it made sense. Why was there a magic little girl living inside her head? Why did she wait until now to reveal herself if she had been there her entire life? And why was she so insistent on Byleth going to this party, even when it could endanger them both?

This line of thinking was interrupted by another knock at the door. Byleth stood up and opened it; there stood Flayn, having now changed into an elaborate gardening outfit that was way too big for her.

“I didn’t want to get my clothes dirty, so I borrowed this from my brother.” She said as if to answer Byleth’s unspoken question. “Are you ready?”

Byleth nodded. She walked through the entrance of her room and closed the door behind her, hoping the gardening would be a good distraction from the questions that had consumed her mind this morning, and any voices in her head that weren’t her own. 

******************

Flayn twirled around her bedroom floor in her long green dress, just a few shades lighter than the color of her hair and eyes. “Well, what do you think?”

Despite her remaining somber impression, Byleth answered: “I like it. You look very nice.”

Flayn clapped. “Perfect! Do you think Raphael will too? And how’s my make up? I didn’t smudge any when I covered my mouth to sneeze earlier, did I?” The short girl was panicking. 

“Flayn, you look wonderful. It will be fine. Raphael will love you, and I’m sure you two will have an incredible time together.”

Flayn beamed up at the taller girl. “Thank you, Byleth. I really appreciate it.” She wrapped her tiny arms around Byleth’s waist, which caused a small jolt to run up her spine in surprise. She was startled, but she didn’t hate the feeling. Actually, she couldn’t remember the last time someone hugged her like this; probably before Jeralt died. She wrapped her own arms around Flayn’s neck, reciprocating the warm embrace. 

A knock at the door indicated Raphael’s arrival, which caused Flayn to quickly pull back from the hug and shriek in horror. “Oh no, it’s him! I’m not ready yet!”

“Flayn, calm down. I can go talk to him while you find your shoes.”

“Thank you! Give me two minutes!” Flayn said as she ran towards her closet. Byleth walked up to the door and opened it just enough so that the person on the other side wouldn’t be able to see Flayn rummaging through her large shoe collection, trying to decide last minute which pair to put on. 

“Hello.” 

“Uh, hi?” Raphael answered, confused as to why to the person he knew as the school gardener opened the door. “I’m sorry, I must have the wrong room. I thought Flayn lived here-”

“She does. She actually is, uh…” Byleth tried to think of a lie so she didn’t have to tell him that his date was currently struggling to find the matching boot to the one she had just picked out. “Helping me pick out an outfit for tonight. Just give her a few minutes."

“Ohhh, I see! That’s real nice of her!” Raphael smiled. “I’m Raphael by the way. I don’t know if I ever learned your name?”

“Byleth.” She answered, shaking the muscular man’s outstretched hand.

“Wow, you’ve got some grip for a gardener, Byleth!” He joked. “Seriously, what’s your workout routine like? You gotta share it with me sometime!”

Byleth almost smirked. “It’s probably a lot less impressive than you’re thinking.”

“That’s fine! Hey, maybe we could hit the training room together someday so you can show me?”

“Byleth!” An agitated Flayn, finally with both shoes on, appeared from behind her. “What are you doing? Are you trying to steal my date for tonight!?!” 

Byleth rolled her eyes. “I’m just being nice, Flayn.” As if in response to her accusation, Raphael turned to Flayn and held out a corsage he bought from the market just for her. Her eyes went wide. “Oh Raphy, I love it!” Flayn yelped excitedly, seemingly forgetting her anger from just a moment ago. “Put it on me!”

She held out her arm and Byleth watched as Raphael tied the purple corsage to Flayn’s tiny wrist. She had to admit: the small flower he picked out for his date was beautiful. Who would have thought such a muscular man could have such a gentle heart?

"Alright, don’t stay out too late you two.” Byleth joked. Flayn rolled her eyes, “Okay, brother. ” Then, her expression changed. “Oh, before I forget: that dress you asked me to pick out for you” she said with a wink that Raphael couldn’t see from where he stood, “is hanging up against the bathroom door when you need it.” 

Byleth nodded. “Thanks. Have fun.”

“You too!” Raphael shouted as he grabbed Flayn’s hand and gently pulled her out the door with him, Flayn blushing and giggling at the physical contact. Although her face may not have shown it, Byleth was beyond thrilled to see her friend so happy. 

He seemed nice. I wonder how he would feel if he knew you were actually spending the night alone in your bedroom. 

Byleth scowled. “Sothis, I already made my decision. I’m not going to the ball. It’s too risky.” 

You can’t say that! You haven’t even seen the magic yet!

“Sothis, really -”

Byleth, remember that you and I share strong emotions. I know the real reason you don’t want to go to this ball: you’re afraid. Afraid that no one will ask you to dance and you’ll make a fool of yourself in front of the Prince. This isn’t about Lady Rhea or "our protection" anymore, so stop pretending like it is. 

Byleth almost screamed. “Oh for goddess’ sake, I can’t live like this! Let me live my own damn life, stop chastising me for every little decision I make!”

Excuse you!?! This is the ONLY decision of yours I have shown ANY interest in! Really, it’s very selfish of you to be putting us both in this miserable state. You call almost all the shots with no pushback from me, but the moment I tell you I want to do this one little thing, you go and throw a tantrum about it!

“I am NOT throwing a tantrum!” Byleth yelled, the irony of her yelling that statement not lost on her. 

Both voices go silent for a moment, until Sothis finally speaks up:

What if I show you what it would look like? Would that change your mind?

Byleth considers this, but before she even got the chance to answer she could feel the transformation happening around her: her hair and fingernails growing longer, her work clothes turning into a beautiful silver gown. It was an odd sensation, but not entirely unpleasant. When she felt it was all said and done, Byleth ran into Flayn’s bathroom to get a look at herself in the mirror. 

What do you think?

Byleth was speechless. She could hardly recognize herself in the reflection before her: Her hair and eyes both changed to a mint green color, similar to Flayn’s- no, wait- similar to Sothis. Her now longer hair was pulled back into a bun, much unlike how she usually wore it down just around her shoulders. The flowing gown she wore had a natural shine to it, caused by the large amount of small diamonds that were attached to its trim. It was strapless, allowing her to show off her naturally muscular arms. She picked up the edge of the long dress and saw that her feet were covered in two beautiful slippers made entirely of porcelain glass. She looked back at her reflection in the mirror and, for the first time in a long time, she smiled. A big fat toothy grin. She didn’t think it was possible to feel more beautiful than she did in this very moment. 

I can only make this magic hold for so long. When the clock strikes midnight, it will all disappear. That gives you three hours to get in there and do whatever you need to... if you choose to, of course.

Just a few moments ago, Byleth never would have gone for it. But after seeing herself in the mirror like this, everything changed. Byleth couldn’t believe it; she was actually going to attend the Garreg Mach Ball, and, most surprisingly, she was excited for it. If she could physically hug Sothis in this moment, she would have. Instead, she said:

“Thank you, just… thank you.” Tears began to fill her eyes, but not in a bad way; she felt like a princess. Maybe there was some truth to Jeralt’s old Knight tales after all. 

Go on, Byleth. Drink, dance, have fun! But don’t forget: be out of there by midnight!

“I will!” She promised, never feeling more grateful for anyone than she currently felt for the magical little girl in her head. She ran out of Flayn’s room and all the way to the ballroom, as fast as she possibly could.

Chapter Text

“Your Highness, is everything alright in there?”

Dimitri sighed. “Yes, Rodrigue. I’m just having a little trouble with my tie.”

Rodrigue opened the door to find the Crown Prince of Faerghus without a tie in hand, wearing only his unbuttoned undershirt with his suit jacket still splayed out on the bed, one pant leg tucked into a sock with the other untucked and dangling against the floor, and with one shoe missing. The blonde man’s eyes went wide when he turned around and saw that Rodrigue had entered his room. 

“Trouble with your tie?” 

His Highness looked like a child with his hand caught in a cookie jar. “I think the suit was a bit more complicated than I thought it’d be”, he admitted sheepishly.

Rodrigue laughed and walked over to the bed to pick up the navy blue suit jacket and throw it over the Prince’s shoulders. “You know, it wasn’t that long ago when I was doing this for your father.” 

That memory made Dimitri smile gently. “Was he as bad at this as I was?” 

“Worse. I’m just grateful you had your pants on your legs.” That was enough to make the Prince chuckle as he bent down to fix his tucked pant leg. 

“Listen Dimitri; I know this isn’t your usual idea of a good time, but please try to have a little fun tonight. Where’s your tie?” 

Dimitri grabbed the black tie from off his nightstand and handed it over to Rodrigue, happy to let the man tie it for him. “I remember our deal Rodrigue, so I’ll tell you what: I will ask one woman, of my and only my choosing, to dance with me tonight. If she is willing to go through the courtship rituals, I promise to follow through with it, even if she ends up being as dreadfully boring as all the women you set me up with.”

Rodrigue chuckled politely. “I think that is a very fair compromise. Thank you, Your Highness. I appreciate it. Turn around”, the older man ordered so that Dimitri could look at himself in the mirror, now looking much more respectable than he did when Rodrigue walked into the room. His navy blue suit with black lining represented the colors of Faerghus very well, and he even wore a small lapel pin near his collar that held the symbol of the Blaiddyd crest. As a child he often saw his father wear this pin, so it only felt fitting that he would do the same tonight. 

“Are you planning on doing something with your hair?”

“Funny.” The Prince retorted. He liked his somewhat messy hair; it felt like one of the few things about his own appearance he could actually control. Rodrigue sighed, wistfully.

“Your father would be so proud of you if he could see you now.”

No he wouldn’t. 

Dimitri shuddered, hoping Rodrigue didn’t notice. If he did, maybe he could pass it off as a reaction to a sudden draft in the room… or, you know, anything that would make it look like the ruler of their kingdom wasn’t actively going insane. 

“The carriage is ready!” Dedue shouted from outside the door. “We should get going. Don’t forget your gloves.” Rodrigue reminded him as he stepped out to follow Dedue. Dimitri grabbed the gloves also from off his nightstand and slipped them on quickly, then made his way down the hall and eventually outside the gates of the royal palace. 

He was used to the cold night air of Faerghus. He found it quite comforting actually, almost enough to calm the incessant butterflies in his stomach. The truth is he couldn’t remember the last time he asked someone to dance. Actually, it’s possible he never has. When he was a kid usually his step sister would grab his hand and reluctantly pull him onto the dance floor, which he was secretly grateful for even though he would never admit that to her. With this promise he’s made to Rodrigue, Dimitri has now added a new layer of pressure to his responsibilities tonight, not even mentioning the immense pressure of hosting the most important night in all of Fodlan. 

Why did you ever think you could do this?

He shuddered again, this time thankful that he was outside and could blame it on the chilled night air. He gladly accepted Dedue’s hand to help him up into the carriage and took his usual seat behind the driver. He said a quiet prayer to the Goddess just before the carriage started moving, that she should grant him the wisdom and serenity to get through tonight without splitting in half. 

*****************

Lady Rhea had really outdone herself this year. Even before they entered the ballroom proper, the entrance hall of the monastery was decked from floor to ceiling in beautiful multi-colored flowers covering each of the large columns that held up the room. Dedue, being something of a flower savant himself, allowed a tiny smile to grace his face at the sight. “My compliments to the gardener”, he said quietly enough for just Dimitri to hear; a statement which the Prince certainly agreed with. 

Long tables were lined up against the perimeter of the reception hall, with the center of course being the dance floor. Each table had table cloths separated by color: Red for nobility of the Adrestian Empire, gold for those of the Leicester Alliance, and blue for the Kingdom. One of the monastery guards led Dimitri and his associates over to a special table set up in the front of the room near the musicians, the table historically reserved for the Archbishop and the host of the ball. On their way there, Dimitri spotted a well dressed Sylvain and Felix, who both ended up at a table near the front of the room. The two of them seemed to be bickering back and forth about something like they were an old married couple. That made the Prince smile; some things never change. 

“Lady Rhea will make her entrance at 9:25, say a few words, and then it will be your turn to give your speech.” The guard explained to Dimitri as he took his seat near the center of the table. “I see, thank you.” He said as the guard nodded and walked off. Dimitri’s hands shook as he pulled the crumpled up piece of paper out of his pocket with his speech scribbled onto it. He was terrified of stumbling over his words and making a fool of himself in front of all the other leaders of Fodlan. It was a bit ridiculous, really; he never felt nervous while rushing into battle, so why couldn’t he stop sweating over the prospect of giving a damn speech?

“Your Highness, would you like something to drink?” Dedue offered, likely noticing how visibly anxious the Prince was. 

“No thank you, Dedue. But if I change my mind, I would prefer to get it myself. You promised Sylvain you would let loose tonight, remember?”

“I do, and I will, I just…” Dedue looked down at his feet, a bit embarrassed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had the opportunity to relax. I’m not quite sure if I remember how to do it.”

Dimitri looked up at his friend from Duscar, a glimmer of sadness in his eyes as he remembered how they met. “I understand. You could start by getting yourself a drink, rather than getting it for someone else?” Dedue noddded. “Yes, I think I could manage that.” He turned around and walked towards the bar to follow the Prince’s instructions. 

Dimitri took note of the time on the clock on the wall: 9:15. He had ten minutes until Lady Rhea made her entrance. His right leg was jiggling up and down rapidly as if it were possessed. He could not wait for this to be over. 

Why did you think you could do this?

Thankfully, the haunting voices subsided once Dimitri saw a familiar face approaching him from across the hall. Walking towards his table in a stunning floor length red gown, with a slit just above the knee that allowed her to show off her muscular legs and incredibly tall high hells, was a platinum blonde girl with purple eyes who had been familiar to him almost all his life. 

“It’s good to see you, Edelgard.”

His step sister smirked at him. “Good to see you too, Dimitri. I hear you’re on the hunt for a wife tonight?”

“With the amount of leg your showing, I’d say the same about you.” 

The future Empress threw her head back laughing. When she calmed down she said,  “Okay, I’ll admit you’ve gotten better at that. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you. Dedue helps me practice.”

“Really though, this” she motions to the whole room “is just lovely. My father and I are both very excited to see what you have in store for us tonight.”

“I appreciate the compliment, but I really can’t take all the credit: Lady Rhea did most of the decorating.”

“Oh, I figured that much. Unless you suddenly became a master of interior design since the last time I saw you?”

“Hey, don’t underestimate me. Remember, we’ve already established that I can get way better at things with time.”

This family reunion was quickly interrupted by a tuxedo’d Claude von Riegan. His only splash of color with this outfit was a gold tie around his neck, and he forgo his usual hairstyle for a new gelled back look. “Hey, the gang’s all here!” He exclaimed, bowing to the other two leaders respectively as he greeted them: “Mr Prince. Ms Emperor.”

“Duke von Riegen”, Edelgarde mocked with an accompanying curtsy. “Tell me: how many women have you had to bat away already this fine evening?” 

“Oh, far too many. Of course, I try to send them over to His Highness here on their way out.” The Duke teased, pointing at Dimitri, who rolled his eyes. 

“Yes yes, the nobility want me to find a queen. We’ve already joked about it, what else is new?” 

“Hey, I’m just glad the pressure’s off me this year!” Claude said defensively, then cocked his head to one side. “You know Your Highness, I’m not sure which part of tonight I’m looking forward to more: watching you struggle to ask a girl to dance, or watching you step on some poor girl’s foot while you try to waltz with her.”

Edelgard chimed in: “Oh, definitely the latter. You know, as long as that Blaiddyd super strength doesn’t kick in and break her foot.”

“Alright, I’ve had enough of you two. Leave now.” 

Claude and Edelgard laughed at the Prince’s joking remark before the Duke held out his arm in an offering for the future Empress to interlock it with her own. She accepted and they walked off arm in arm, chatting happily as old friends while Dimitri struggled not to panic as he watched the long arm of the clock move closer and closer to the twenty-five minute mark. He looked back down at his speech, attempting to memorize as much of it as he could so he wouldn’t have to keep looking down at his hands, but before he knew it, the string quartet began to play the theme for Lady Rhea’s entrance. 

Everyone in the ballroom stood and turned towards the large mahogany doors that slowly opened for the archbishop. There stood Lady Rhea in an ornate white gown with gold and black embroidery, plus the same elaborate headdress atop her head that she usually wore. All eyes were on here as she walked across the hall floor all the way to the table where Dimitri now stood. He bowed to her, as was customary for the host to do when the Archbishop arrived at the head of the hall. She turned to face the eager crowd of people standing before her. 

“Ladies and gentleman of Fodlan: it is my absolute pleasure to welcome you all to the nine hundred and ninety-fifth annual Garreg Mach Ball!” The crowd erupted into applause. Dimitri stared directly at Lady Rhea as he clapped; she just made her presence in front of the crowd feel so natural. It made sense, she has been doing this forever, but still, Dimitri was impressed nonetheless. 

“I am truly touched that the Goddess herself has allowed us all to come together like this for another year. The last time this ball was hosted by the Kingdom of Faerghus, I stood beside a different man; a great man, who was a noble and courageous ruler, but a loving father before all else. Because of this, it is my great honor to introduce you to the son of that great man, a noble and courageous leader in his own right: His Royal Highness, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd!” 

Lady Rhea walked around the long table to take her seat as the crowd applauded once more, and Dimitri tried really hard to prevent himself from throwing up. He glanced down at his crumpled piece of paper under the table one last time before addressing the crowd. 

“Thank you for that wonderful introduction, Lady Rhea. Members of the church, Academy students, and great leaders of the Leicester Alliance and Adrestian Empire alike, as we come together to celebrate such a noble occasion, I implore you all to remember the reason behind this celebration: many years ago, when Fodlan was one great nation, the noble Seiros was given a revelation from the Goddess herself to help guide those who were lost. Seiros took this message to heart, spreading her good nature across all of Fodlan and inspiring her followers to create the great city we all stand in tonight. After more than a thousand years and many changes throughout Fodlan’s history, including the creation of our three incredible nations, we still all find the time to come together and celebrate this wonderful occasion in each others company. While yes, this ball is meant to honor the creation of a great city, I think it is also important to recognize how we have all come together as one to follow in Seiros’ footsteps, even when we wouldn’t normally do so.” 

Dimitri swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling unreasonably dry, before finishing the speech. 

“Even as a child attending these balls with my father, I knew there was something special about all three nations coming together in both unity and spiritual celebration. For one night only, we are not the Empire, Kingdom, and the Alliance: we are united Fodlan, just as we had been at the creation of this great temple, and our creation by the Goddess herself all those moons ago. With that being said, I invite you all to raise your glasses,” Dimitri grabbed his glass from off the table and held it up in the air, “and toast to not only the Goddess, but this miraculous union between our three nations. I hope you all enjoy this wonderful occasion as much as I have enjoyed being in your company tonight. Thank you.”

The crowd applauded once more as Dimitri finally exhaled, feeling as though he hadn’t had a chance to catch his breath since he arrived at the monastery. Once the applause died down and Dimitri re-took his seat, the string quartet started playing and well dressed couples began flooding the dance floor. A few high ranking nobles, including both Edelgard and Claude’s respective fathers, come up to congratulate Dimitri on his eloquent speech and excellent hosting skills. He shook hands and faked smiles, but secretly he wanted nothing more than to run to the washroom and splash some cold water on his face in an attempt to calm himself down. Dedue, noticing the Prince’s silent uneasiness, gave him an out from the crowds by insisting the prince follow him outside the ballroom to “discuss important matters of Kingdom security”. He gladly took the Duscarian man’s arm and followed him out, while profusely thanking him quietly enough so that no one else could hear. 

As soon as they exited the reception hall, Dimitri could already feel himself becoming calmer. He leaned up against the ice-cold marble wall of the entrance hall, breathing deeply in and out as his step-mother taught him to do whenever he felt overwhelmed: In. Out. In. Out. 

Oh Goddess, he hadn’t even gotten to the part where he asks someone to dance yet. 

“Your Highness, I know you told me not to worry about you, but if there is anything I can do for you, please let me know.” Dedue said. Dimitri now stands up fully, leaving behind his spot along the wall. 

“Thank you Dedue, I appreciate it. I have to go use the washroom, I’ll be back shortly.” 

Dedue nodded in understanding as Dimitri turned to walk to the washroom, contemplating his deal with Rodrigue the whole way there. He had spotted Annette on his way into the hall earlier, maybe he could ask her? Although she was more like a sister to him, so that just felt like cheating. But who else would agree to do it? Ingrid? Mercedes?

That’s when he saw her. 

Running down the stairs, with her long silver gown bunched up in her hands so she wouldn’t trip over its edges, was the most beautiful woman Dimitri had ever seen. He had heard the term “breathtaking” be thrown around when people talked about moments like these, but really, breathtaking didn’t even begin to describe what he felt in that moment. His heart was beating out of his chest. He felt as though he had lost all sense of reason as he stood frozen like a statue to the floor beneath him, just watching this green haired angel with a face begging to be kissed and incredibly muscular arms make her eager way down the long staircase and into the hall he had just left. 

That’s it. That’s the woman he was asking to dance. 

And so, he ran to the washroom as fast as he possibly could, suddenly growing very eager to re-enter the room he so badly wanted to escape just moments ago. 

*****************

Returning to the reception hall, Dimitri struggled to find the beautiful woman he had spotted on the stairwell. Who was she? He swore he had never seen her before (he definitely would have remembered that), but in order to wear such an intrinsically made dress she must have come from noble blood. Maybe her family was from outside Fodlan? But why then would they come to an event created specifically to celebrate Fodlan’s heritage?

Dimitri’s hand was grabbed by someone; he silently hoped he would turn around and suddenly be facing his gorgeous mystery woman, but he was not. It was instead his stepsister, grabbing his hand and pulling him out onto the dance floor just as she did when they were kids. 

“You looked a bit panicked earlier, I figured you could use the save.” She explained as she led him into the waltz they had done a thousand times before. But Dimitri shook his head, “I was actually just looking for someone. Tell me, have you seen a woman with green hair anywhere? Not Lady Rhea; this one is someone I haven’t seen before.”

Edelgard nodded. “I have. She was dancing with this rather muscular guy a few minutes ago.”

His heart fell. Of course his gorgeous mystery woman was already here with someone else. How foolish was it for him to think he could have her all to himself! “I think I saw the two of them walking back to their table if you needed something. I’m pretty sure they’re students with the Officers Academy.” 

Dimitri nodded. He finished up the waltz in time with the string quartet, then let go of Edelgard’s tiny hands and quickly walked over to the designated student’s table. Unfortunately, staircase woman was still nowhere to be found. He did, however, spot a much shorter girl with curly green hair talking excitedly to an extremely muscular man and started to gain a little hope; if that was the woman Edelgard was referring to, it was not the same one that he’d been looking for. 

Dimitri turned around and was once again bombarded, this time by Dorothea, an old friend of Edelgard who was also a student at the academy. “Hello Your Highness.” She greeted him with a polite curtsy. “May I have this dance?”

As she held out her dainty hand for him to take, Dimitri struggled to think of a way to politely say no, but nothing came to him. Instead, he just silently nodded and walked out to the dance floor with her, now with the second girl he did not intend on dancing with before finding the one he did. 

Dimitri’s eyes darted around the large hall while they danced, hoping he could spot the woman from the staircase somewhere, anywhere. I mean, it’s not like there were any other balls being held in the monastery tonight. She had to be somewhere in here, right? But where the hell was she? 

“Are you feeling okay, Dimitri?” Dorothea asked, noticing his clear absentmindedness while he was with her. He snapped out of his own thoughts, beginning to realize how selfish they seemed, and smiled gently at his dance partner. “Oh yes, I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now.”

“Of course, I understand.” The brunette girl agreed. “I couldn’t even imagine being the host of this thing. I don’t know how you do it.” He gave her another polite smile then looked down at his feet, this time concentrating on his own dancing rather than any beautiful woman he saw for ten seconds and immediately became obsessed with. That’s lust at first sight for you, he thought to himself, grateful he understood the difference between a passing attraction and love better than his father did.

When the music stopped Dimitri was tapped again on his shoulder, this time not by another prospective dance partner, but by a very stressed out Felix. “I think Sylvain’s had too much to drink. He’s been throwing up in the bathroom for the last five minutes.”

Dimitri groaned. He really could not catch a break tonight, could he? “Alright, take me to him, I’ll make sure he’s okay.” He excused himself from a very understanding Dorothea and followed Felix out of the ballroom, exactly where he was hoping to not have to go before he found the woman he ran back in to see.

******************

After holding back a very drunk Sylvain’s hair as he puked in the toilet and helping him clean himself up while Felix got him some water, Dimitri was finally able to head back into the reception hall after making sure his friend was being properly taken care of. “Guess I can’t hold my liquor as well as I used to.” Sylvain said, his eyes going wide, “Oh, Goddess… I’m a lightweight like you two now!” He chided in mock horror, which made Dimitri laugh and Felix roll his eyes.

Back in the ballroom, the Prince’s eyes once again darted around the room in search for his mystery woman. He noted the time: almost 10:30. The ball was halfway over, how was it even possible that much time had already passed?

Then, finally , he spotted the thing he had been searching for for the past hour: his mystery woman was talking to an overly excited Claude Von Riegan, which made Dimitri frown. After everything he had been through to find her, he was not letting Claude steal his chance at a dance tonight. Although that may explain why he didn’t recognize her; if she was from a minor ruling family of the Leicester Alliance he hadn’t met before, that would explain both her presence at this event and why she would be talking to Claude of all people. Or, at least, that was how he chose to justify that last bit to himself. 

He walked across the ballroom floor over to where they were, butterflies returning to his stomach but not quite enough to stop him from moving forward. The entire way there he tried to think of something smart or witty he could say to impress her, which turned out to be a much harder task than he initially expected. He was getting closer and closer. Before he had the chance to overthink it, he finally just opened his mouth and said:

“Please excuse my friend if he’s been bothering you. I'm afraid Claude’s not known for his ability to end a conversation as easily as he can start one.”

The Duke frowned at him, but the woman chuckled. It was a majestic sound coming from her equally majestic lips that Dimitri gladly would have listened to for the rest of his life. He was beyond thrilled that his stupid little line had worked like a charm.

“Well, I thought we were having a nice time, but since apparently I’m so annoying, I suppose I should just leave you both to it.” Claude insisted, winking to Dimitri as he turned around to leave. As annoying and insistent as Claude could be, he knew when to but out when it mattered. Here he was, now standing just a foot away from the newfound object of his affections, making it easy for him to hold out his hand and ask her the question he’d been waiting to ask all night:

“Would you care to dance?”

Chapter Text

Glass slippers were clearly not designed to run in, a lesson Byleth had learned the hard way. 

She already missed the opening remarks by the time she arrived, having to take frequent breaks while running along the monastery grounds because her feet felt like they were burning with the heat of a thousand suns. And she hadn’t even started dancing yet! Was it really necessary to make me wear such uncomfortable shoes? Byleth silently asked Sothis from inside her head. 

You wanted to look appealing to the Prince, this is how you do it! Now stop being a baby and play through the pain! 

Byleth rolled her eyes at Sothis’ response, then walked over to the bar to grab a drink, hoping that may help ease the searing pain in her feet. She shot mead with Jeralt shortly before he died, but she hadn’t tried it since. The bartender placed a small glass filled with purple liquid in front of her before she even had the chance to order. She sniffed it; it smelled like cough syrup. She shot back the drink, throwing herself into a coughing fit once she felt the burning sensation in her throat. 

I thought mercenaries were supposed to be good at holding their liquor? 

Byleth decided to just ignore the little girl continuing to chastise her from inside her head. When she turned away from the bar she was immediately greeted by a tall man with bright red hair, tie hanging loose around his neck and shirt unbuttoned so you could see more of his bare chest than you ever wished to. He was clearly drunk from the way he stumbled as he took only a few steps towards her. “Hey pretty lady!” He slurred, “what’s a place like you doing in a girl like this?”

Byleth tried to help the man sit down on a nearby stool. She’d been around enough drunk mercenaries to know exactly what to do in this situation; she turned her head back to the bartender, relieved that he was already handing her a glass of water for her new red haired friend. She quietly thanked him and pushed the glass over to the drunk man, who pouted at it.

“There’s no alcohol in this!” He whined, sounding more like a three year old than a fully grown man. 

Byleth disagreed, “Yes there is”, in a weak attempt to convince him to drink it, but the man was too stubborn for his own good. He pushed the glass of water back into her hands.

“You drink it!”

Byleth shook her head. “I’ll tell you what: I’ll give you my room number if you drink it.” Without a second thought, the man threw back the water then looked up at her expectantly, waiting for her to live up to her end of the bargain. She made up a fake one; there were no bedrooms on the fourth floor of the monastery, but by the time he figured that out, he would likely have already given up.

“Sylvain, there you are!” Another man shouted from behind them both. “What the hell!?! Are you trying to give me a heart attack!?!”

“FELIIIIIX!!!” Sylvain responded, excited to see his much shorter friend. He turned and pointed at Byleth: “ That pretty lady just gave me water. I think she liiiikes me!” He snickered to himself. Byleth almost smirked.

“I guess I should thank you for taking care of him. I didn’t want to leave him alone, but I really had to go to the washroom and when I came back he was nowhere to be found.”

“Hey Flixy, I’m not a child!” Sylvain whined. Felix rolled his eyes. “Sure you’re not.” Then he turned his attention back to Byleth. “I’m very sorry he bothered you. I’d say he’s an ass when he drinks but… well, he’s kinda just always like that.”

“It’s okay”, Byleth said with a polite bow of her head. “I hope you both have a good night.”

“You too.” Felix responded as he grabbed Sylvain’s arm. 

“See you later, pretty lady!” Sylvain yelled as he was pulled away from the bar by his dark haired friend. 

Now alone at the bar, Byleth looked around and spotted Flayn sitting at the students table with Raphael, laughing loudly at what was likely a joke he just made. They both looked quite happy, which made Byleth feel warm inside. She then spotted the Prince, standing about ten feet away from that same table, being grabbed by a beautiful brunette woman and whisked away to the dance floor. She frowned; Of course Prince Dimitri was here with someone else. She was right to think he would never look twice at her. She then wondered what she was doing here, and how it was even possible she let Sothis convince her to do such a thing.

Just because he’s dancing with someone else doesn’t mean you can’t have a good time. Stop throwing yourself a pity party and move on!

Byleth continued to frown. She turned back to the bartender, ordering another drink to ease both her newfound emotional and physical pain. This one she didn’t shoot back, but rather carefully sipped as she leaned against a nearby wall and watched the beautiful, happy couples enjoying their time on the dance floor. Some time in between getting her drink and walking over to the wall, the Prince had escaped the ballroom and the brunette girl was now happily dancing with a woman with white hair. The two of them looked a lot happier to be dancing with each other than the former was with Dimitri. Although she would never admit it, that did make Byleth feel just a tiny bit better. 

After a few minutes passed, Byleth wondered if there was really any point to this; if she should just leave. She could go back to her room, maybe read that book on fighting stances Jeritza had given her. It had to be more exciting than leaning against a wall, getting a headache from the cacophony of loud noises, and staring at a bunch of drunk people stumbling over each other’s feet.

But those thoughts didn’t last long: a hand appeared in front of her, a hand she had seen before. Standing there, silently asking her to dance was Duke Claude. He smirked at her the same way he had when they had met the year before. 

Why are you just standing there? Take his hand, make a move!

Byleth wasn’t sure if it was the drinks or her own crippling boredom, but she gladly accepted the Duke’s hand and allowed him to pull her onto the dance floor. Once they had taken their respective positions in a simple waltz, Claude looked up at her and said:

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. Have we met?”

The Duke didn’t recognize her, making Byleth grateful the disguise had at least somewhat worked. She shook her head. “I don’t believe we have, no.”

Claude smiled. “Wonderful! That means we can spend some time getting to know each other.” He winked at her, an all too familiar motion, which made Byleth feel uneasy. She stared down at her feet, making sure she wasn’t messing up the motions too much. She danced a little back at mercenary camp, but that was not nearly as formal as this was. She was way out of her element, but the fact that Claude seemed to stumble along with her due to his own tipsiness did make her feel a bit less self-conscious.

The song quickly ended and moved into something more uptempo. Byleth turned to leave, but the Duke grabbed her hand and pulled her again, this time towards a pink haired girl and her purple haired friend sitting at a nearby table. Claude introduced them both to her as Hilda and Lorenz, respectively, but after the brief introduction the three of them seemed to completely ignore her presence. Byleth wondered if she should just turn to leave, but at the same time didn’t want to seem rude. But the conversation went on for the next hour, the three friends reconnecting while she stared awkwardly at them from a few seats down. She definitely overstayed her welcome; even Claude seemed surprised that she was still there when he finally turned around. 

“Oh! Sorry about that, it’s just been a while since I’ve seen them... I guess that was rather rude of me.” He reached up to scratch the back of his neck. “Could I get you a drink as an apology?” 

Despite her better interest in keeping her wits about her, she did appreciate the sincerity which with the Duke was treating her with now. It was a side to him she hadn’t seen before, but was definitely liking it more than the suave persona he usually put on. So she accepted his invitation. He smiled at her and ran to get them both drinks. When he came back he handed her a new green drink while proudly announcing, “I got it cause it matches your hair!” She smirked and gladly sipped the drink down. They made some more small talk, it was nice, pleasant even. But that all changed when someone else entered the picture: 

“Please excuse my friend if he’s been bothering you. I’m afraid Claude’s not known for his ability to end a conversation as easily as he can start one.”

She laughed. She hadn’t done that in so long, it felt so nice. Was what the Prince said really that funny, or was she just too buzzed to care? Also, that’s the Prince who said that. Dimitri Blaiddyd, the whole reason she came to this event, was talking to her . And he was looking at her like her face held the answer to every question in the universe. Her brain came to one conclusion with all of this combined information:

He was even more gorgeous up close.

“Well, I thought we were having a nice time, but since apparently I’m so annoying I suppose I should just leave you both to it!” The Duke announced before walking away, leaving the two of them alone. They stared at each other for a moment, neither seeming to know what to do with the other first. But the Prince was smiling at her. And it was almost enough to make her smile back. 

Then he held out his hand and asked, “Would you care to dance?” And her heart nearly exploded.

Without a second thought, she put her drink down on a nearby table, then grabbed his hand and followed him out to the dance floor.

***********************

Byleth was really bad at dancing.

She felt like an idiot for thinking she could properly dance with the Prince of Faerghus; she was way more self-conscious with Dimitri than she was with Claude. Then again, Dimitri didn’t seem to rival her own tipsiness like the Duke did. “I’m sorry if I’m not very good at this.” She mumbled as she stared awkwardly at the floor, not wanting to make eye contact as she said this and just embarrass herself further. 

But he just laughed: “No need to apologize. Actually, you could probably teach me a thing or two. I should start calling you professor!” He joked. 

She looked back up at him, meeting his deep blue eyes with her own for the first time. “I think I like the sound of that”, she whispered in a low tone of voice. That was enough to make him grin from ear to ear. 

Smooth.

Had Sothis not added that, Byleth honestly would have forgotten she was there.

“Whatever you say, professor.” He growled back in his wonderfully deep voice. Byleth loved it. She loved everything about him; his large hands grasping her own, his warm body so close to hers, his messy blonde hair framing his beautiful face in the best way possible. And he was so tall that being held in his arms like this made her feel like she was flying just above the floor. She let a large smile grace her face, looking up at him like a kid in a candy store; that seemed to surprise the Prince.

“Wow, I hadn’t seen your face light up like that before. It’s downright mesmerizing.” He said, blushing shortly afterward in embarrassment. “I’m sorry… I seem to have forgotten myself and came dangerously close to teasing you. Please forgive me.”

She shook her head. “I really don’t mind.” He just continued to smile back at her. 

They danced together for almost an hour, neither wanting to leave the other's warm embrace. Byleth didn’t know it at this point, but for the first time in his life, Dimitri wondered if there was actually some truth to the “love at first sight” idea his father used to tell him about.

People were staring. It made sense; here was some random woman no one recognized wearing a beautiful gown and dancing multiple waltzes with the future King who had previously been reluctant to do so. Standing off to the side of the large reception hall, Rodrigue started to tear up; he felt like he was watching Lambert and Anselma fall in love all over again. 

After their last song ended, the string quartet stopped to take a break. As the ballroom clapped for them, Dimitri whispered down to Byleth: “Would you join me outside? Please?” He was staring down at her like a lovesick puppy. What choice did she have but to say yes and happily follow him outside?

The night air was cool and crisp against Byleth’s uncovered arms and face. Dimitri took notice of Byleth’s shivering and, being much better used to the colder weather, took off his long fur cape and wrapped it around her shoulders. It was such a small show of affection that meant so much to the woman who didn’t know many acts such as this. As they walked through the courtyard, Byleth stopped abruptly when she heard someone singing softly in the distance. It was a song that she didn’t recognize, but something deep in her soul told her to hold still and keep listening.

That song… I heard it once, in the past. No… I sang it to someone. Taught it to them. But… how could that be?

“Are you alright?” The Prince asked, snapping Byleth out of her brief trance. “I’m fine.” She responded. “Still just a bit cold, I guess.” He nodded. “Don’t worry, where we’re going it will be much warmer.” He said, and then led her to a large tower to the left of the Chapel. Byleth had never been inside it, but she had heard it be referred to as “The Goddess Tower” by Lady Rhea during one of their early walks along the monastery grounds. 

“I usually end up here the night of the ball once I’ve had enough of the noise. But this would be the first time I brought someone with me…" He blushed slightly again. "That is, if you accept my invitation, of course.” 

Again, when he was looking at her like that, how could she not? 

They followed the long staircase all the way up to the top of the tower which held a small balcony that overlooked the monastery grounds. She could have sworn she could see her plants growing in the greenhouse from here; she’d come a long way from being the monastery’s “gardener”. 

“Quiet out here, isn’t it, Professor?” The Prince teased as he leaned his arm over the tower’s railing. “Tell me: do you know the legend associated with the Goddess tower?” Byleth shook her head. “They say that wishes made in this  tower will come true.” He explained. “A silly notion if you ask me.”

“You don’t believe it?” 

Dimitri shook his head. “Legends are legends, nothing more. The Goddess watches over us from above, but that’s it. She would never so much as offer her hand, even if someone were begging to be saved...” He looked down at his feet and stroked his chin with his hand that formerly leaned against the railing. “And even if she did, we lack the means to reach out and grasp it.” He looked back up at Byleth. “But that’s just my own opinion. I don’t mean to bore you with such things.” 

“You don’t bore me; I find your thoughts rather interesting.” Byleth added, which made the corners of the Prince’s mouth curve up just slightly. “I don’t really believe in all of that either; legends, wives tales, whatever… but I have to admit, they seem entertaining enough.” 

“I see.” He smirked at her. “Well, in the spirit of entertainment, shall we make a wish? See what happens?” 

“What would you wish for?”

He thought for a moment, then responded: “I suppose my wish is… a world in which no one would be unjustly taken from us. Or something along those lines.” He looked so sad as the words left his mouth. She frowned, knowing she understood his pain much more than he could ever realize. 

“A very noble wish”, Byleth agreed. But for some reason, Dimitri didn’t seem satisfied with this response.

“Although, I suppose at a time like this it would make more sense to wish that we’ll be together forever.” He looked up at her expectantly. “What do you think?”

She was speechless; how was she supposed to respond to such a profound statement of his affection for her? It felt like a scene out of a dream; if Byleth didn’t know any better, she would have assumed she was dreaming. 

Then, Dimitri started to chuckle. “Well, I suppose I’ve improved at the art of joke telling!” Byleth frowned again. 

“That didn’t sound like a joke.” 

Dimitri quickly stopped laughing and looked back down at his feet. “I’m sorry… I guess that was rather thoughtless of me.” He sighed. “I really have no business promising my future to anyone. There are certain things I must accomplish, for my kingdom, even if it means risking my life. Really, I may not have a future to promise to anyone.” 

Hearing him say that broke Byleth’s heart. There was a hidden sense of sadness behind his eyes that came out to greet her in that moment; like a darkness no one else could see but her. Before she had the chance to second guess herself, she grabbed his hand in her own and stroked it gently with her thumb, trying to comfort him. He looked shocked at first, but he eased into the touch soon enough. “Your hands are so warm.” He said, absentmindedly. “Did you know that? I’ve never felt anything like it…”

Mint green eyes met those that were the color of the ocean. They stared at each other in silence, still holding onto each other’s hands as if they were they were holding onto their last lifeline. Each silently wondered what the other’s lips would feel like against their own. That was, before Byleth finally worked up the courage to ask:

“Can I kiss you?”

Dimitri’s eyes went wide. He looked panicked. Byleth immediately started profusely apologizing, believing she had crossed a line. “I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that.” She was shifting awkwardly on the balls of her swollen feet. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, or - ”

Before she had the chance to finish that sentence, his lips were pressed to hers. It was soft, gentle at first, just a few pecks. But when they became more comfortable, they began moving in rhythm, with a passionate intensity that sent shivers up and down Byleth's spine. From an outside view it was very messy; neither one of them had ever done this before. But for the two of them, it was a moment of pure magic. 

Then the clock began to chime. 

At first, Byleth didn’t hear it. She was too distracted by the taste of the Prince still on her lips, looking up at his beautiful face just inches from her own. He looked out to the distance, towards the sound coming from the nearby old clock tower, and said:

“Wow, is it midnight already? Time really flew by.” 

And her blood went cold.

Why are you just standing there? RUN!

And so, Byleth ran. She ran as fast as she could down the stairs of the tower, the Prince shouting and chasing her from behind. 

“Wait! Where are you going!?! Did I do something wrong!?! I didn’t mean to offend if I did! Please come back! I didn’t even get your name!” 

But she didn’t answer him; she couldn’t. She threw the Prince’s cape off her shoulders as she ran. She lost a shoe somewhere along the way; again, Sothis’ fault for thinking glass slippers were a good idea. She could already feel the magic starting to wear off, her hair starting to change color, his dress starting to disappear. She kept running through it all, even when her soul was screaming at her to turn around and run right back into the arms of the man who held her so lovingly just moments before. She could feel the tears stinging in her eyes already; they hadn’t done that in despair since the day Jeralt died. But she knew exactly why: the best night of her life was coming to an end, and now all she could do was run back to the mundane, hopeless life she usually lived. She knew deep down that she would never have that feeling again, could never have that feeling again. And that was why she cried. 

Chapter Text

She was running away from him. 

He couldn’t understand why; he thought they were having a good time. She asked to kiss him for Goddess’ sake! And then they did! So why did she start running away from him as soon as it was over? Did he not do it right? If so, what did he do wrong?

Dimitri chased her down the stairs, yelling profuse apologies in the hopes that would be enough to make her turn around and come back, or at least explain to him why she had to leave so suddenly. But she didn’t. He was feeling so many different emotions at once; angry, upset, frustrated… but mostly, he was just confused. Why did she run from him before he even got the chance to ask if she would be willing to court? Was it wrong for him to think that she could feel the same way about him that he did for her? 

Of course it was. Why would anyone ever love you? 

He was close to ramming his head into the tower’s stone walls. Instead, he hopped off the bottom step of the long staircase and threw himself to the ground, then just screamed into the very floor he laid upon. It was all too much: those voices in his head, those that belonged to him and those that didn’t, and the fact that for the first time in nine years the voices had left him alone just for a little while, and now that she was gone, here they were again, back in full force. 

After a few moments of bathing in his own misery, Dimitri slowly lifted his head up from off the floor and spotted something glimmering in the distance: a shoe. Her shoe! He ran over to it; it was made entirely of porcelain glass. How his beloved was able to dance all night in such easily breakable slippers was beyond him. Then again, there was a lot he didn’t know about this woman; mostly, her name. He picked the shoe up from off the ground, examining it closely as if it could give him some clue as to where she ran off to. But as quickly as he picked it up, the whole thing dissolved from his hands as if it were made of sand. He cursed himself, believing his crest had activated and he had broken the shoe by accident; he had never been good at dealing with fragile things. But what he didn’t know was that as he sat on the floor of the Goddess tower in his own despair, his “beloved” was running through the courtyard back to her dorm room in a dress that was actively disappearing around her. Although, who’s to say that if he did have that information, if that would have made any sense to him either?

Once Dimitri finally worked up the strength to pick himself up from off the floor, he slowly walked back to the reception hall, knowing that despite his newly-minted state of depression he would still have to give the honorary closing remarks. As a surprise for the fellow ruling families of Fodlan, he and Rodrigue had planned to gift them each custom made paintings with their respective family crests on one side and the symbol of united Fodlan on the other. He figured they would appreciate the symbol of affection and his own hope for unity, but right now, he could care less about how they perceived it; he just wanted to see her again, nothing more. 

He was quick to spot Claude when he made it back into the ballroom. He ran towards the duke without a second's hesitation and tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. Claude smirked at the prince as he turned around. 

“What’s up, Your Highness? Where’d your date go?”

“No time for jokes.” Dimitri spat out, a bit more harshly than he intended. “How do you know her? What was her name?”

Claude’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. I’d never met her before tonight. She seemed kinda familiar though…” He put his arm up to scratch the back of his neck. “When you came over to talk I figured she must have been a friend of yours from the kingdom, and that must have been where I knew her from.”

Dimitri could feel his blood starting to boil. “But I didn’t know her! I don’t even know her name!”

“You didn’t think to ask? Weren’t you dancing with her for, like, an hour?” 

Dimitri looked down at the ground. “I was… preoccupied.”

“Yeah, I bet you were.” Claude teased. Dimitri looked back up at him with a cold stare.

“Jeez, sorry Your Highness! Forgive me for trying to lighten the mood!”

The prince shook his head in disappointment. “So you don’t know anything about her either. Great, this is just great!” He threw his arms up in exasperation. Claude opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Dimitri was being pulled away by an impatient Rodrigue, who had been looking for the prince for the past twenty minutes trying to get him to prepare their gift for the nation’s lords. Dimitri was tempted to swat him away, but between his fear of accidentally ripping Rodrigue’s arm off with his crest strength, and his general fear of not wanting his advisor to deal with any of his lust-at-first-sight nonsense, he decided not to. He followed Rodrigue to his spot at the front of the room and did as he was told. He figured that was all he could do anymore: follow voices that weren’t his own until he died.

**************

It had been one month since the Garreg Mach Ball. All in all, it had been considered a great success; the nation leader’s loved their gifts and it seemed to generally strengthen relations between all three of Fodlan’s territories. The nobles in Faerghus’ Parliament were content with both Dimitri’s presentation at the ball and the seriousness with which he took his royal duties. Yes, everyone in Faerghus seemed very happy. 

Everyone except the Prince of Faerghus himself.

No matter how hard he tried, he could not forget that woman he danced with at the ball. He thought about her day and night; while he ate, he thought about her. When he went to tea with Dedue, he thought about her. While he sparred with his faithful knight, Ingrid, he thought about her. His every thought was consumed by green hair and kind eyes and the taste of her lips still attached to his own. Even it was generally preferable to his usual thoughts of the dead haunting his every move, he just couldn’t take it anymore.

Within this same month, the attacks from the dark mage Solon around the kingdom had subsided, but everyone knew that he was still out there, plotting his next move. Due to their newly strengthened relations, Faerghus was able to borrow various knights from both the Empire and Alliance's armies to help fortify the nation in case of any further attack. If the dark mage came out of hiding, they would be ready. A part of Dimitri selfishly hoped he would, partially because he was confident in his own ability to defeat him, and partially because it would serve as a good distraction from his current set of unwanted thoughts. 

Rodrigue knew that something was wrong with the future king, but he wasn’t sure how he could help. He made sure the prince kept up with his royal duties, but beyond that. the boy didn’t seem to want to interact with anyone besides a few trusted sparring partners and Dedue. This wasn’t entirely unusual; the man from Duscar was obviously Dimitri’s most trusted confidante, but when even he began to be shut out of the prince’s personal exploits, it became apparent that the young man desperately needed help. 

Sylvain and Felix arrived at the palace as soon as they could. Rodrigue led them both to the Prince’s personal chambers, followed closely behind by a very concerned Dedue. Rodrigue knocked on the large wooden door.

“Your Highness? You have visitors.”

“Unless it’s a pressing issue, I do not wish to speak with them.”

Rodrigue sighed. “I assure you it is most pressing, Your Highness.”

So Dimitri reluctantly opened the door. He frowned when he saw who was on the other side of it. 

“Go away.”

Sylvain pushed open the door as Dimitri tried to slam it closed. “Dima, we’re worried about you. Please, just talk to us. That’s all we want.”

The prince scowled. “I have nothing to say to you.” 

Felix rolled his eyes. “Oh for Goddess’ sake boar, just tell us what’s gotten into you! You’ve been acting like you got stabbed since the night of the ball!” 

Dimitri reiterated, “I don’t have anything to say to you. Please leave. Now. ”

Now it was Dedue’s turn to speak up. “Your Highness, something obviously happened to upset you the night of the ball. If you just tell us what it was, we may be able to help. If you don’t, your efforts will be futile because we’re just going to keep pressing you until you do.” He frowned. “The people deserve a leader who can think straight. Please, for the sake of your Kingdom, tell us what’s been on your mind.” 

Dimitri was taken aback by Dedue’s statement. Generally, he was a man of few words. So the fact that he was so concerned about Dimitri’s behavior that he felt the need to take part in this little intervention did put things into perspective for the young prince. He opened the door just enough to let the younger gentlemen into his room. Rodrigue allowed himself to be left behind, shutting the door behind them once the others had entered the room. 

Dimitri sat down on the bed. “If I tell you, you can’t make fun of me.” Everyone looked up at Sylvain. 

“What?” Sylvain whined. “Why is everyone looking at me? I wouldn't do that! You should be looking at Felix!” 

Felix scoffed. Dimitri sighed and moved on.

“Alright, you know the green haired girl that I asked to dance?”

The three men nodded. “Well, I took her up to the Goddess Tower afterwards and we kissed.” Dedue remained stone faced at that revelation. Felix looked mildly surprised. Sylvain beamed at his old friend with pride. 

“But then, she just started running away from me. I thought we were having a nice moment, but she left without saying goodbye. I didn’t get her name and no one I asked seemed to know anything about her. I know the whole thing sounds so stupid, but…” He rubbed the back of his neck, not sure how to say the next part. “She’s consumed my every waking thought since that night. It all just feels so cruel that the Goddess would introduce me to this wonderful, perfect woman, and then steal her away from me in an instant. It’s just… when I was with her, things felt so simple. For the first time in…” His voice trailed off, but everyone seemed to understand what he was trying to say. 

“So we have to find her.” Sylvain confidently declared, but Dimitri shook his head. “With how little we know about her, I don’t even know where you would start.” He slumped over. He already long accepted that he would never see her again, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

“Dima, face it: you fell hard for this girl. You owe it yourself to at least try to find her!” Sylvain insisted. “Did she leave anything behind? Something that could identify her in some way?” 

“A shoe, but it’s long gone now… I think I broke it.” 

Unexpectedly, Dedue spoke up again: “In order to secure an invitation to the ball you would either have to be an academy student or associated with a noble family. Could she have been a knight, or some sort of advisor?”

“I don’t know. She was strong, very muscular, but her hands were so delicate… I don’t see how those could be the hands of a regular warrior.” 

“Yeah, plus usually knight’s are able to handle the taste of Adrestian Ale better than she could.”

Dimitri suddenly turned his attention to Sylvain. “Why do you say that?”

The red head shrugged. “I talked to her briefly after you gave your speech. Course, I was so wasted I don’t really remember what was said beyond that.” He started rubbing the back of his neck. “I… may have hit on her... a little bit.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “Really? You think?” He then turned to Dimitri. “He was at the bar with her when I found him. She gave him some water, I thought that was pretty nice. I thanked her and we just kinda left. Didn’t think to ask for her name or anything, sorry.” 

Dimitri’s heart fluttered; he was a bit relieved to hear his mystery woman was just as kind to others as she was to him, meaning that she wasn’t treating him differently just because he was royalty like most women did. He was lost in that lovestruck thought, until Felix interrupted:

“There’s a clear solution here: the church keeps record of everyone invited to the ball. Just go ask Lady Rhea who she is and you’ll find your mystery woman.” 

They all looked at Felix in shock. “What?” The dark haired man responded. “Just because he’s the boar doesn’t mean I like seeing him miserable!”

Felix was right; if they went to Lady Rhea, they could find her. It was as simple as that. Dimitri stood up quickly from the bed. “Dedue, call for a carriage to the monastery.” The Prince commanded. “I need to see Lady Rhea about her invite list.”

******************

Clearly, the Monastery was not expecting guests. 

As Dimitri and his company (which consisted of Dedue, Sylvain, and Felix, the former two insisting on seeing this through to the end while the latter reluctantly followed) walked across the academy lawns to the archbishop’s audience chamber, every student from the Officers Academy gawked in amazement, like they had never seen royalty before despite most of them having seen him just the month prior. Even Professor Manuela, whom Dimitri recognized from Ingrid’s apt descriptions of her scantily clad appearance, had come out of her classroom just to get a good look at the prince as he walked by. Sure, he was used to be stared at like a zoo animal by now, but was all of this really necessary?

They met with Seteth at the entrance to the second floor monastery offices. “Your Highness!" The green haired man said with surprise. "You don’t have an appointment with Lady Rhea this afternoon. Is there something urgent you need to discuss, or can this wait?”

“It can wait, but I would prefer this to be done as soon as possible.” Dimitri explained. “I met someone at the ball who I believe may be of great interest to the Kingdom”, which wasn’t exactly a lie, “I need Lady Rhea’s help in identifying her.” 

Seteth frowned. “Lady Rhea is not permitted to divulge that information unless it is a matter of national security. Unless you have reason to believe this person is a danger to your kingdom, you will not be allowed to know anything further from our records.”

Dimitri considered lying in his desperation, but even he knew in his lovesick state that lying about the security of his own nation would be borderline psychotic. “I understand,” he said, “but may I at least speak with Lady Rhea if she’s free?” He figured he could reason with the archbishop better than she could her fierce assistant. Seteth didn’t seem happy about this turn in events, but he had no choice but to agree.

“You may, but I assure you Lady Rhea will say the same thing I have. And you may not bring anyone else with you." He stared down at the three men in Dimitri's tread dissaprovingly. "Unless they are your advisor, which I don’t believe any of these men are.”

Sylvain scoffed. “Wow, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.” Felix swatted his arm. Dedue just nodded. “I spotted a greenhouse on our way here. If you do not mind, I would like to give it a closer inspection.” Both Dimitri and Seteth approved of this, so Dedue made his leave with both Sylvain and Felix following closely behind, likely going to find somewhere less boring to cause trouble in. 

Lady Rhea agreed to see the prince an hour later. He entered the large room as he had before for ball preparations, but this time with a newfound pep in his step. He was excited at the prospect of finally finding the woman of his dreams, and it had been so long since he felt that feeling; really, he couldn't remember the last time that was. He bowed to the archbishop before she allowed him to speak. 

“It is very good to see you, Your Highness, albeit unexpected.” She said calmly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’ll cut right to the chase here, Lady Rhea.” He spoke with an unusual sort of fervor. “I came her hoping to find information on a woman I met the night of the ball; I don’t need anything scandalous about her, just her name would be enough.”

Lady Rhea pursed her lips. “I see. While it’s certainly an unorthodox request, I do believe I may be able to help.” His heart skipped a beat. He was finally meeting a glimmer of good luck. 

“Okay, well, she was wearing this elaborate silver dress and had long, green haired tied back into a bun.” He explained. “I don’t know much else about her, other than the fact that she seemed very apprehensive to smile or show any sort of emotion; although when she did, it was truly a sight to behold." He smiled at the thought of his beloved, then looked back up at Rhea. "Do you know who I’m talking about?” 

Lady Rhea looked puzzled. “I do not. I mean, I know someone who matches your latter description but…” She tapped her chin lightly with her index finger,  “No, it couldn’t have been her. She wouldn’t have been at the ball. And she wouldn’t fit your other descriptions either.”

Dimitri frowned. “Maybe I’m describing her incorrectly; do you perhaps have any images I could see of the guests? Paintings, or such?”

Lady Rhea nodded. “There are portraits of every ruling family in Fodlan hung up in the top floor of our library, although not all of them are up to date. Most of our guests came from those families, that would probably be your best chance at recognizing her.”

Dimitri nodded. “Of course. Thank you for all of your help Lady Rhea, I truly appreciate it.” He he said with one last bow before eagerly leaving the archbishop’s chamber. 

He ran as fast as he could down the hall and up the stairs to the library’s portraits section and began inspecting; he had seen these portraits a million times before, but this was the first time he was really looking at them, searching small details in everyone’s faces to make sure he could spot his mystery woman if she was here. He looked through the noble families of the Empire: Aegir, Vestra, Bergliez, Varley… but she wasn’t there. He looked through the noble families of the Alliance: Goneril, Ordelia, Gloucester, Edmund… still not there. Finally, he searched desperately through the Kingdom’s portraits, even though he knew the chances of seeing her there were even slimmer than before. Gautier, Fraldarius, Galatea, Rowe, Charon…

But she still wasn’t there. 

His heart shattered into a million pieces when he made it to the end of the hall to his own Blaiddyd family portrait without seeing any sign of the woman he danced with. He stared up at the painted version himself, eyes filled with sadness, looking much younger in the portrait painted just two days after watching his parents die. A painting that had once been a symbol of great joy with him being held in both his father and step-mother’s arms was now one that just reflected his own perpetual loneliness. It reflected the fact that no matter what he did, he always seemed doomed to be alone.

Not quite. 

But he did remember that wasn’t quite true. 

Dimitri took a few moments to pick up the pieces of his shattered heart, sitting quietly on the floor in front of his portrait trying hard not to break down in tears (ironically enough, the painted version of himself was doing the same thing). The one thing that brought him genuine joy in such a long time was someone who he would never see again. After those moments of despair had passed, he got up and went back downstairs, preparing to meet Dedue in the greenhouse so that he may return home. Their trip had been a massive failure; what else was he to do than to return to the place where he was most used to that feeling?

Chapter Text

It had been one month since Byleth attended the ball and, thankfully, no one had recognized her. 

She quickly went back to her simple life as it was before she met the Prince: working odd jobs throughout the Monastery, mostly alone in the greenhouse. The only difference was that this time she had to endure the occasional lecture by Sothis from inside her head. She wished she could say she didn’t think much of Dimitri Blaiddyd since that night, but that just wasn’t true; she thought about him all the time. Whether she wanted to or not.

Flayn was the first to notice something unusual about Byleth’s behavior. She confronted her about this one day while the older girl was stationed at the fishing docks. 

“Byleth, are you doing okay?" Flayn asked hesitantly. "You’ve been acting kinda… off lately, I just want to make sure I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Byleth shook her head. “Nothing’s wrong, Flayn. I’m fine.”

But Flayn was resilient. “You’re not. I can tell. Byleth, please, just tell me what’s been going on with you. Is it because you missed the ball? I told you you should have gone!”

Byleth almost wished she could tell her the truth, that she had gone to the ball that night, and that was what made her so upset. She would have been better off staying in her room than getting a brief chance to fulfill her secret dreams of true love, just to have it all be pulled out from underneath her. 

“Flayn, there’s nothing to talk about. Please, just leave me alone.”

Flayn was disappointed, but she did as she was told. She walked away and allowed Byleth a chance to catch another sea bass. Of course, it was a hollow victory compared to the prize she somehow managed to catch a month ago, that she so regretted letting swim out of her grasp.

On this particular day, Byleth started her morning as she usually did: elbow deep in the soil of the greenhouse garden. Things had calmed down in there significantly now that they weren’t being tasked with growing a million different flowers to decorate the reception hall with. She calmly poured a packet of seeds into the dirt; a simple root vegetable blend. Once she covered the hole in which she buried the seeds, she poured some water over it and, finally, performed a small magic spell the greenhouse keeper had taught her to allow them to grow faster. 

“What sort of spell was that?”

Byleth jumped. She didn’t realize anyone else was in there with her, and she certainly didn’t recognize the voice that just called out to her. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just not often that you meet someone who’s as passionate about the greenery as you are.”

She turned around and came face to face with a tan man with bright white hair. He was tall, very tall, and wore armor as though he were some sort of protector. This confused Byleth; what would a warrior be doing in her greenhouse, and why did he seem genuinely interested in what she was doing?

“I am Dedue Molinaro of the Kingdom of Faerghus.” He introduced with a bow, then held out his hand for her to shake, which she accepted.

“Byleth.” She introduced bluntly. “It was a simple growth spell, I don’t know much more magic than that.” She explained.

“You know more than I do.” He responded. There was something about his stoic honesty that she really liked. 

“The greenhouse keeper is the one formally in charge here, but I do know a lot about what we have growing. If you have any further questions, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

He nodded, then began to inspect the various growing crops in the greenhouse silently. Byleth went back to her work. She enjoyed the fact that the man was so eager to just quietly observe the plants she had been growing rather than asking her a million different questions about each type as most greenhouse visitors did. They just comfortably did their own thing in the same space; it was quite nice, actually. Like she could get used to that feeling.

The silence lasted five minutes, until someone else had entered the greenhouse; this time, the voice belonged to someone Byleth had recognized, but couldn't believe she was actually hearing.

“It was no use, Dedue. Let’s just find Sylvain and Felix and go back home.” 

Byleth looked up and there he was: the man she thought she’d never see again, the Prince of Faerghus himself. She quickly turned around to face the wall to prevent him from seeing her face turn bright pink.

Dedue stood up from the spot where he kneeled on the floor. “I am very sorry to hear that, Your Highness. I will go tell the driver to prepare the carriage for our descent.” He left quickly, leaving the Prince and the Gardener alone. She continued to face the wall of the greenhouse, not daring to turn around and look him in the eye. Would he even recognize her if he saw her? And if he didn’t, would she be able to bear it?

“These flowers are very nice. Did you grow them?” The Prince asked. Byleth knew she couldn’t just ignore his question, so she very timidly responded: 

“…Yes.”

Byleth didn’t know it, but her answer made a shiver run down Dimitri’s spine. That was almost a voice he recognized. That was almost the voice of… no, that couldn’t be right. 

“Were you the one who grew the flowers for the ball? I must say, those were quite nice as well.” 

Byleth nodded. “I grew most of them, yes, but I had help.”

“Very noble of you to give them credit.” He responded, then laughed gently. “How foolish of me, I forgot to introduce myself again. I am Dimitri Blaiddyd of Faerghus. If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your name?”

What is wrong with you???? TURN AROUND!!! Talk to him!

Byleth couldn’t stand Sothis’ insistence to give her two sense on this. She didn’t want to turn away from the wall, but at the same time she understood why she couldn’t keep talking to Dimitri while refusing to look at him. So she did turn around, but she stared down at her feet as she did, still unwilling to make eye contact quite yet.

“Byleth.” 

“Byleth…” The Prince repeated, as if he were testing out how the name felt in his mouth. “I apologize if this is too forward of me, but you seem so familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”

If she had a pulse, her heart would have been racing by now. “No. You don’t.” She responded coldly, despite her own inner desires to scream "YES!" and happily back run into his arms. 

“I see. I’m sorry, I must have you confused with someone else.” If she didn't know any better, she'd say he almost sounded disappointed.

“Well, I won’t stay in your hair too long then. It was very nice to meet you, Byleth. Your plants are lovely.” He bowed, then turned around and left through the same doors he came from. And that was that. 

Okay, NOW we need to talk!

Before she knew it, Byleth was pulled back into the void that she had become all too familiar with. She landed on her ass in a less than graceful movement. “You could warn me next time!” She snarled at the green haired little girl sitting in front of her with her arms crossed. 

“Why didn’t you just tell the Prince who you were? He obviously likes you; he kissed you for goodness sake! You don’t have to worry about being rejected anymore, so why are you still avoiding him? He didn’t kill your father! He’s not going to attack you!” 

Byleth started getting angry. “It’s more complicated than that, Sothis.”

“How??? Please explain to me exactly how this is complicated, cause from where I’m sitting”, she motioned down to the large throne where she still sat cross legged, “it all looks pretty simple.” 

Byleth avoided eye contact with Sothis. She didn't have to say anything, because suddenly, the little green haired girl put it all together:

“You’re afraid he won’t like you if he saw you like this. That he fell in love with the disguise and not you.” 

Byleth nodded. Without her fancy gown and elaborate hairdo, the prince wouldn’t even give her a second look. If he knew the real her, hell, if he realized she wasn’t even a noble, he would never have her. He deserved so much more than a former brutal mercenary turned plain country maid. 

“But you don’t know if any of that's true! If you don’t even give the prince the chance to prove himself to you, you will just keep believing in an irrational fear that you have no evidence for. That is no way to live your life!” 

“I thought you didn’t get involved in mortal’s lives anymore? Cause you’ve been getting involved in mine a lot lately.”

Sothis frowned. “I’m just trying to make you happy, Byleth. We're stuck together whether you like it or not, which means I have a right to give you my opinion when I deem it necessary. It’s your choice whether you take my advice, but I am not going to sit back and just watch you throw your own life away.” She shook her head. “What happened to you? You used to be this great warrior, the feared ‘Ashen Demon’. Now you’re just some pathetic gardener who’s too scared to talk to a boy she likes!”

“Stop. ” Byleth let out. She wasn't going to stand here and be insulted like this. So as to not commit a physical act of violence against the little girl that angered her, she held up her right index finger. “I haven’t changed. I can prove it.”

Sothis rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers, allowing Byleth to return to the mortal plane she was in before. She got up from the ground and walked out of the greenhouse, headed straight towards the training grounds with a fire in her eyes. When she got there, she pointed at the door and said:

“I may be out of practice, but I could still beat anyone in there. I guarantee it.” 

Well, someone’s finally living up to their “demon” moniker. Alright Ashen Demon; when we get in there, I’ll pick one person for you to fight. If you win, I’ll shut myself up for the rest of your life; you won’t ever have to worry about hearing from me again. But if you lose, you take my advice: TALK to the Prince. Give him an actual chance!

“And there’s no way for you to get involved in this fight and tip the scale?” Byleth questioned. 

I could, in theory, but I won’t. I am nothing if not a woman of my word.

So Byleth agreed to these conditions. She knew Sothis wasn’t going to go easy on her in picking her opponent, but at the same time, she still felt confident in her chances. Back when she was a mercenary she was good at her job. Pain-stakingly good. Clients from all over Fodlan got into bidding wars with one another to hire Jeralt’s mercenaries because of her. None of the Academy students or professors stood a chance against the feared Ashen Demon, even if she did always resent that nickname. 

She pushed open the large door to the training grounds aggressively, then scanned the room left to right for possible opponents. “Well, what do you think?” She said quietly, hoping no one else could hear her talking to the little girl that lived inside her head. 

Sothis thought for a second, then finally said, Your two O’Clock. The one standing by the wall with the red head. He looks like he won’t go out easy. 

Byleth turned and spotted the short man with dark hair, waving around his sword menacingly at his red haired friend with the lance. Wait, she had seen these two before… yes, these were the men she met at the bar the night of the ball! Now, what were they doing here? Were they here for the same reason the prince was? She would have recognized them already if they were Academy students, right? And what were their names again? She remembered briefly learning them, but the answers she sought were right on the tip of her tongue… 

Oh come on Byleth, are we doing this or not? 

As insane as she felt for doing this just to prove something to a little girl inside her head, Byleth nodded. She walked over to the weapons wall and grabbed a training sword, then approached the dark haired man she had silently agreed to fight. 

“You.” She said as she tapped him on the shoulder to make him turn around. “I wish to spar with you.” 

His red haired friend laughed. “Wow, Felix. Here I was thinking I was the only one stupid enough to willingly get my ass kicked by you!” Byleth frowned at that. She was not going to let this previously drunken man be right. 

Felix, not even acknowledging what his friend had said, simply nodded in Byleth’s direction and they both moved to their respective positions along the training mat. The red head moved himself off the mat away from the fight, seeming more than content to watch. They took their stances, each surveying the other's potential weakness’ and preparing where to strike.  

Felix lunged first, taking a more aggressive stance than Byleth anticipated, but she was still easily able to block the blow. He went for another strike, this one more upwards towards her head, but she blocked it again. Then another, then another. 

“You know, this would be a lot more interesting if you at least tried to attack.” He taunted. The ends of her lips curved up gently; she was nothing if not one to follow orders. 

“Very well.”

Byleth changed her stance and swung at Felix with an uppercut slash that he barely dodged. The blue haired boy’s eyes went wide; she thought he was finally realizing that he made a mistake in challenging her, but instead, this only seemed to spur him on further. He swung back at her with a lower blow, this time Byleth had to throw herself backwards in order to get herself out of the blade’s way. She struck again; the sound of metal-on-metal rang through the whole room as their swords clashed together, causing many others in the room to turn in their direction and watch the appealing fight. 

Felix was not an easy opponent as Byleth had originally assumed; while he was not nearly as experienced in the art of swordsmanship as she was, he was certainly resilient. He didn’t hold back or give up, which she appreciated. He kept her on her toes. 

At some point during the fight, the Prince of Faerghus and his retainer had stopped by the training grounds looking for their companions, and both were extremely surprised to find Felix in the center ring fighting against the person they were just introduced to a few moments before as the monastery gardener. But Byleth didn’t notice this when it happened; she was too focused on every direction Felix swung his blade, learning his aggressive patterns quickly so she could use them against him. 

Felix tried a trick attack, performing an upper slash before moving quickly into a middle one, but Byleth already predicted he was going to do this; she swung her sword against the handle of his, disarming him quickly, then pointed her own blade directly at his chest. The whole thing happened in the blink of an eye. 

“You are unarmed. Do you yield?” 

Felix, surprised at how quickly the blue haired woman was able to do all of that, timidly nodded. He had no other choice. The crowd of spectators that formed around them cheered, especially Felix’s red haired friend- Sylvain! That was his name! - who seemed a little too gleeful to see his friend be defeated by a stranger. But Byleth was indifferent to the praise; she calmly walked back over to the weapons wall to put her training sword away. 

An impressive performance. Very well, I will uphold my end of the bargain. Good bye, Byleth. I suppose this was nice while it lasted. 

And just like that, Sothis’ voice was gone. Byleth was relieved, albeit a little sad she wouldn’t be able to talk to the little girl anymore. As annoying as she could be, she did look after Byleth in a way that no one else had before. 

But Byleth didn’t have time to mourn her lost friend long; she was being approached by the Prince of Faerghus, who she just noticed was wearing the same cape he had given her when she stood with him on top of the Goddess Tower. Her feet were frozen in place and her mouth went dry. She had no idea what she was supposed to do. 

“I have to say, that was incredibly impressive. I was surprised to see that a gardener would be so talented with a sword.” 

Byleth looked back down at her feet instinctively, now glad that Sothis wasn’t there to chime in with her own thoughts on this matter. “I was a mercenary before Lady Rhea hired me.” She admitted, having no idea why she was telling him all of this. There was just something about Dimitri that made her want to tell him everything; about her life with Jeralt, about how Lady Rhea found her, about the mysterious and magical little girl living inside her head who just disappeared…

“You are aware you just fought against a fully trained Knight of Faerghus, right?” Dimitri asked. “Not just anyone could do that, even a former mercenary.” 

For the first time since the ball, Byleth dared to look up at him. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Dimitri smiled down at her gently. “Listen, I know you have your duties to attend to here, but I would be absolutely honored if you would consider returning to the Kingdom with me and served as one of my Knights. Faerghus has faced multiple attacks by a group of dark mages recently, we need all the help we can get. A strong warrior like you might be just what we need.” He held out his hand for her to shake in agreement. “So? What do you say?” 

Byleth stared down at his hand; his large, calloused, beautiful hand. She could almost remember what it felt like against her own. But this man seemed to have no idea that she was the woman he danced with that night; I mean, if he did he would have said something to her by now, right? Or was this invitation to move to Faerghus with him his own weird way of informally indicating it? 

But Byleth’s string of questioning thoughts were quickly interrupted: the doors to the training ground burst open and a very panicked Seteth ran inside. “FLAYN!?!?” He screamed while looking frantically around the training room, even going as far as to physically push people out of his way in search for his sister. “Has anyone seen Flayn!?! Where did she go!?!? Where is she!?!” He locked eyes with Byleth; it wasn’t until then that the Prince finally put his hand down. 

“BYLETH! Have you seen Flayn at all today!?!? She promised me we would meet for tea this afternoon, but she never showed up and I’ve been looking all over for her! I fear something horrible has happened to her!” The screaming man grabbed Byleth by the shoulders and began shaking her. “PLEASE tell me that you’ve seen her! If something happened to her, I don’t think I could bear it!” 

Byleth reached her own arms out to free herself from Seteth’s grip. “Seteth, calm down. I think you’re overreacting - ” 

“DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!” He roared. Everyone both in and directly outside the training room was now staring at him. “Just answer the question! Have you seen her or not!?!?” 

Byleth shook her head. “No. I haven’t.” She looked down at her feet. “The last time I saw her was last night at dinner. She said something about going into town for something she needed…” 

“WHAT!?!” He shouted again. If Seteth wasn’t furious before, he definitely was now. “You let her go out late at night by herself !?! What the hell were you thinking!?!” 

“Sir Seteth, I understand your concern, but I must ask you to stop screaming at this woman. She is not responsible for your sister’s behavior. This is not her fault.” The Prince stated calmly. Byleth was surprised that Dimitri spoke up just to defend her; she really appreciated that. Seteth, however, did not seem to share that opinion. 

“Your Highness, my sister has gone missing just days after a reaper was spotted in the village. I would appreciate it if you would please forgive me if I seem just a bit concerned by this.” He said through gritted teeth. Had it not been for the fact that Dimitri was royalty, Seteth certainly would have flown off the handle much more than he did. 

Of course Byleth had heard the latest rumors of the Death Knight being spotted in Garreg Mach. It was the whole reason she didn’t go out with Flayn that night; she even told her she should wait until daybreak to leave the monastery. Still, while she knew Flayn’s actions were not her responsibility she still felt guilty for not just inviting the young girl to go with her the next day. That is, if Flayn actually was taken by the reaper rather than just hiding from Seteth again. 

“I’ll tell you what, Seteth: I will gladly volunteer my Royal Knights to search Garreg Mach and its surrounding territories for any sign of your sister. Would that make you feel better?” The Prince offered hesitantly. 

“That will not be necessary.” 

Everyone turned towards the entrance of the training grounds to follow the voice: there stood Lady Rhea, who held an indiscernible look on her face. Everyone was startled by this; Lady Rhea rarely went into any Officer’s Academy portion of the Monastery, let alone one with a surplus of weaponry. She held a loose piece of paper in her hands. 

“I just received a letter that was stamped with the dark seal. The Death Knight kidnapped Flayn and brought her to Solon, who is keeping her hostage in Remire Village. They believe they can use her as leverage”, she swallowed, then looked directly at Seteth, “to get to me.”

“We must send the Knights of Serios right away!” Seteth declared, but Lady Rhea shook her head.

“No. This is my battle to fight, no one else's.”

“But Lady Rhea, you can not put yourself in danger! What would come of the church if something happened to you?” 

“I am not the church, Seteth.” Lady Rhea insisted. “It can survive without me. I am the reason your sister was taken, therefore, I must be the one to save her.” 

“I will go with you!” Dimitri declared. “Solon has attacked my people far too many times. It is my duty to take him down once and for all. This is just as much my battle as it is yours.” 

“And I will go anywhere His Highness goes.” Dedue popped up from behind the Prince to add, seemingly from out of nowhere. 

“And I shall go to guard you, Lady Rhea.” Seteth also declared, but the Archbishop wasn’t having it.

“Seteth, you are my second in command. You have to stay here to take care of matters of the church while I’m gone. I don’t trust anyone else besides you to handle this.” 

Seteth wanted to argue, but even he knew he couldn’t change the Archbishop’s mind. “You need a protector. Someone has to be willing to give up their life for you, even if you won’t send the Knights.”

The room went silent for a moment. Then:

“I will do it.” 

Everyone looked at Byleth in surprise, except for the Prince, who seemed amused.

“Byleth, I appreciate your willingness to protect me, but…” Lady Rhea trailed off, thinking of a way to put this delicately, “are you sure you want to do this, after what happened to your father?” 

Byleth shook her head. “That’s exactly why I have to.” 

“But Byleth-”

“She’s an excellent warrior, Lady Rhea. Probably more capable than most of your own Knights.” Byleth was amazed to see Dimitri so proudly defending her once again. “You should be honored to have her accompany you on this mission. And if you will not allow her to fight for you, I will command her to fight for me.” 

Byleth was stunned. Here she was, in no disguise, being defended to the hilt by the Prince of Faerghus. He was kind beyond all measure... and she was a very lucky woman. 

Lady Rhea, despite still being reluctant to bring Byleth on this journey, ultimately did agree with the Crown Prince’s conditions, mostly because she had no other choice. Rhea and Seteth took their leave, making their way back to Seteth’s office to discuss his duties during her absence. Once they had left, no one else in the training grounds knew what to do after all of that. The academy students chatted awkwardly with one another as Felix and Sylvain ran to reunite with the Prince. 

“So what am I supposed to tell my father while you’re out playing hero, Your Highness?” Felix asked. Dimitri shook his head. “Tell him I am simply running a brief errand for the Archbishop. He does not need to know the risks of this mission, especially not when Parliament is still pressed on me not having an heir.”

Sylvain cocked his head to the side. “And you're absolutely sure this is a good idea, Dimitri? I mean, they do have a point on the whole leaving-us-without-a-ruler thing.”

“I will be fine.” Dimitri insisted. “I am not going alone, I have Dedue to protect me.” He locked eyes with the gardener. “And now Byleth.”

Byleth nodded. She remembered what he told her that night on top of the Goddess tower; that he didn’t think he had a future to promise to anyone. But Byleth wasn’t going to stand for that; she would guard the future King of Faerghus with her life if she had to. She decided that even if the Prince now viewed her as nothing more than a capable warrior, she could be okay with that.

“I will accompany the two lords back to the carriage and see to it they make it back to Fhirdiad safely.” Dedue stated plainly. Dimitri dismissed him and he left, taking both Felix and Sylvain with him. Byleth and Dimitri were now alone together yet again. 

“I am sorry to keep asking you this, but…” he hesitated slightly to say, “are you sure we haven’t met before?”

Byleth knew what he was suspecting. She could tell him now, potentially risk their mission due to their attraction to one another, or tell him later. She decided she couldn’t let her personal feelings get in the way of Flayn’s safety. She had to wait. For Flayn’s sake.

So she shook her head. “No. We haven’t.” And he frowned. She decided in that moment that she hated seeing him frown, and never wanted it to happen again. 

“Well then, I suppose we’ll just have to get to know each other on this trip. What do you say?” He held out his large hand for her to shake again. And this time, she gladly took it.

Chapter Text

Her hands were warm. 

Dimitri thought to himself, No! This couldn’t possibly be the woman from the ball! She had different features, plus, Byleth says that we’ve never met before. What reason would she have to lie about that?

But he couldn’t stop that one curious part of his brain from thinking, but what if it WAS her? What if the woman of my dreams is sleeping in a tent just five feet away from my own? And why the hell am I not doing anything about it???

Dimitri was having trouble getting to sleep that night, just as he did most nights. They had made it past the first ledge of the Oghma mountains before setting up camp earlier that day. Byleth was quiet for most of the trip. He noticed quickly that she was a woman of few words, especially to him; but those few times she did choose to speak, it made his heart flutter. 

When he saw Byleth in the training room with Felix yesterday, he was immediately entranced by the combined ferocity and delicacy of her every hit. She held a considerable amount of strength; he could tell from experience Felix wasn’t holding back with her. As much as Dimitri loved sparring with Ingrid, he did think having someone like this, someone who he wouldn’t have to hold back his so much of his strength around, would be a much more interesting challenge. 

And in the blink of an eye, she defeated Felix. Felix, one of the best warriors he knew, was easily defeated by this beautiful, seemingly delicate woman. So he asked her to return to the Kingdom with him and become one of his knights; to him it was a request of nothing but admiration for her fighting skills. It wasn’t until hours later he realized how a request of essentially asking her to move in with him just an hour after they met might send the wrong message. 

But they were both quickly sent into a tailspin, suddenly traveling together on this mission for him to save his Kingdom and for her (as he had very recently learned) to avenge her father. And of course, both are protecting Lady Rhea. Another thing Dimitri couldn’t quite wrap his head around was the relationship between the Archbishop and her “gardener” (although he knew there was a lot more to Byleth then just a gardener). The two seemed close, but Lady Rhea was still hesitant to allow Byleth as her protector, as though she felt she was incapable. Although, that would be a ridiculous notion, because as Dimitri had previously seen Byleth was a far more capable warrior than most of the Knights of Seiros combined. 

Dimitri pondered all of these thoughts as he stared up at the roof of his tent, no less wide awake than he was three hours ago when his other travel mates went to bed. His tentmate Dedue on the other hand was fast asleep, snoring softly like a bear cub next to him. Although he knew rest was needed for the approaching battle, Dimitri dreaded having to deal with the nightmares that always came with it. Ever since that day in Duscar all those years ago, there were very few nights when he could sleep soundly without waking up in a cold sweat after seeing his family be brutally murdered in front of him all over again. At least when it originally happened he didn’t know it, didn’t have to dread what was coming like he did in the night. It was an unusual thing to be grateful for, but he was grateful nonetheless. 

Deciding he couldn’t just keep lying on his back like this, Dimitri got out of the tent as quietly as he could so as not to wake Dedue and started pacing around the surrounding campground. He turned and noticed that the small fire they had lit to cook dinner had longed burned out by this point. He walked a little past Lady Rhea’s tent towards the edge of the nearby woods, just staring out at the dark abyss in front of him. He could’ve sworn he heard a grunting noise coming from within; at least, he hoped it was from there and not from inside his own head. Then, he started to hear footsteps; he instinctively grabbed his dagger from off his belt, knowing he couldn’t move back to his lance quickly enough before the mysterious figure had the chance to attack. He took a defensive stance as the sound of footsteps moved closer and closer, until he finally came face to face with: 

“Byleth?” 

The blue haired girl looked vaguely startled to be seeing the Prince out this late.

“Dimitri… I’m sorry, did I wake you? I was trying to be as quiet as I could.”

“No! Don’t worry about it, I was up already. What were you doing out there, if you don’t mind me asking?” The Prince asked, a bit hesitantly. 

“Getting supplies. The best time to do so is the middle of the night when the other mercenary camps are asleep.” She reached up to her face with her left hand to stroke her chin. “Although, I suppose that doesn’t really matter here. I must have forgot I wasn’t in Remire anymore; force of habit, I guess.” She sheathed her sword as he did the same with his dagger; he found it oddly comforting to know that she had the exact same thought he did. The air between them fell quiet for a moment as Dimitri thought carefully of what to say next. 

“Since we’re both awake, shall we do something together to pass the time?” Dimitri asked. He hoped to get to know his travel companion better, although he would never admit it was actually to rule out the possibility that she may be the woman of his dreams.

She hesitantly nodded. “I have a thermos of tea back in my tent. Would you like some?” Dimitri agreed. He wasn’t much of a tea fan since he couldn’t really taste anything, but he was sure he could appreciate sharing the warmth of the beverage with the miraculous woman in front of him. 

As Byleth went back to her tent to grab the tea, Dimitri sat down on a log by the dead fire where they ate dinner just a few hours before. All four of the travel companions had been quiet, focused completely on scarfing down their food after the long days journey they’d had. Dimitri hoped that wouldn’t remain the status quo for his upcoming teatime. 

She came back a few minutes later with the thermos. “I only have one cup. We could share, if you don’t mind?” Although her face didn’t show it, she seemed nervous to be asking this question; it was such an odd thing to see from an otherwise fearless warrior. Dimitri’s heart nearly skipped a beat.

“I don’t mind at all.” He quickly responded, really hoping he didn't seem too eager with that answer. She nodded and sat down on the log right next to him. She poured out the tea into the lid’s built in cup. “It’s chamomile.” She provided, an answer to his unspoken question. “It smells wonderful.” He added. He’d never had chamomile tea, although he wasn’t sure why that mattered to him considering he wouldn’t be able to taste it anyway. 

She handed him the cup to take the first sip. It was much warmer than he expected, surprised at how well the thermos had held in the tea’s heat after their long journey. He flinched slightly at the burning sensation in his mouth, but was pleasantly surprised to feel he could almost taste the gentle flavor of the tea along his tongue. He quite liked it. What he didn’t like, however, was the air of silence that fell between him and Byleth once again as they both struggled to think of what to say to one another. As much as he so longed to, he had no idea how to start a proper conversation with this intriguing woman. 

“Um…” Byleth began to say, which excited Dimitri. His head perked up like he were an excited dog. Silently, he scolded himself for seeming too eager. 

“Have you… read any good books lately?” She finished the question, awkwardly. 

He nodded. “I just finished this one on fighting stances that Felix gave me. Apparently, it was written by a Kingdom knight from many years ago, Sir Klaus Von -”

“Arendel.” She finished the sentence for him. “I just finished reading the same one. Did you find it helpful?”

Dimitri nodded slightly. “Overall, yes. A little outdated. I felt like most of it was stuff I already knew, just phrased differently.”

“I felt the same.” She agreed. He smiled at her, hoping she would smile back. He knew he would recognize that smile if she really was who he suspected; But unfortunately, she did not. He handed her back the cup, which she gladly took a few more sips from. Then, she changed the subject. 

“This might be a stupid question, but what’s it like being a prince?”

Dimitri shook his head. “That’s not stupid at all!” He insisted, then scratched his chin. “Although, I’m not sure how appropriately I can answer that question. Being royalty is all I know, so I’m not sure if I could accurately describe its differences from being a commoner.” He sheepishly admitted. 

Byleth nodded. Dimitri wanted to say something else, potentially to expand on his admittedly subpar answer, but he couldn’t think of a single other word to say. After a few moments of silence, she passed him back the cup and he just went back to sipping their tea. 

Dimitri could feel the chill in the night air, and although he was used to the cold from growing up in Faerghus, he still found himself very thankful for the small cup of tea warming up his hands. He looked over at Byleth and noticed her body start to shake. 

“You’re shivering. Here, let me go back to my tent and get you a blanket - “

“There’s no need.” She quickly insisted. “You see, I’ve been trying to, uh… well, build up my tolerance to the cold now that winter has hit the monastery.” She looked up at him, meeting her warm blue eyes with his own. “I grew up mostly in Empire territory, so it was always quite warm. Even though I’ve been at Garreg Mach a few years now, I’m still not quite used to the change in seasons yet.”

“You’d do yourself well to visit Faerghus, then. It’s the exact opposite of the Adrestian climate; growing up in Fhirdiad is like growing up inside a popsicle!” He couldn’t say for sure, but he could have sworn he had seen the ends of her lips curl up ever so slightly at his small attempt at humor. 

“Faerghus does sound like a wonderful place. Maybe I should like to go with you sometime.” 

He almost spit out the tea he was drinking. He couldn’t believe she said that. She wanted to go back to the kingdom with him; she emphasized, with him. Although, he couldn’t help but wonder what the nobility would think of him bringing a former mercenary to the palace with the intention of courtship. There would be some that would approve of her, many that wouldn’t, but that didn’t matter to him. It would be ridiculous of them to complain, anyway. They wanted him to marry, he was simply fulfilling their wishes with a woman that he…

Woah. He was getting waaay ahead of himself here. 

All that Byleth had suggested was that he bring her to the Kingdom sometime. She did not promise him a future together, nor did she probably want that for herself. The life of a queen was very different from the life of a mercenary, or a gardener, or whatever the hell she was. He couldn’t force her into that life, hell, especially when he was barely sure that was what he wanted for himself. 

“Are you alright?”

Her voice snapped him back to reality, making him realize how long he had gone quiet for while he was imagining their future marriage in his head. 

“My apologies, I seem to have gotten lost in thought.” He said, a bit rushed in his awkward explanation. “But yes, I would be more than happy to show you around Faerghus once this is all over. I think you would fit in quite well there, actually.”

She nodded. “I quite like your friend, Dedue. He seems nice, very talented with an axe. I appreciate his respect for greenery as well. If everyone in Faerghus is like him, I imagine I would fit in well too.”

“Well, that’s not quite the case.” Dimitri met his chin with his fist, not sure how to put this next part delicately. “You see, Dedue is a man of Duscar. One of the last, actually.” She cocked her head to one side. 

“Why is that?”

Oh. She doesn’t know. 

No wanting to put a damper on the whole evening, Dimitri quickly changed the subject: “Are you and Lady Rhea close?”

She shrugged. “I suppose. She saved my life and took me in at a time where I didn't have anyone else, I will always appreciate her for that. She gives me my duties at the beginning of every week, otherwise I rarely see her around. She is a busy woman, afterall.”

Dimitri nodded. “I can imagine. She just seemed a bit cold to you earlier, which is why I thought to ask.”

He remembered how just a few hours before the Archbishop got upset with Byleth after she had cast a minor growth spell on a dying bed of blue pansies at the base of the mountain. “I told you not to use magic while we were outside of the monastery.” Lady Rhea scolded, albeit in her usual fashion, gently. Byleth frowned. 

“No one could have spotted us from that.” She insisted. But the archbishop was still not pleased. The two, who had already been speaking to one another rather infrequently up until this point, had not said a word to each other for the rest of the night. 

“She tries very hard to protect me, I know. I just wish I could understand why…” Byleth grabbed the end of her dark blue hair and began twirling it in between her fingers. Even though it was a small, simple motion, Dimitri was entranced. 

“Maybe it has to do with her being Archbishop? As in, somehow she sees protecting you as her duty from Sothis?” 

Something about that last sentence made Byleth jump in her seat. She turned and locked eyes with him. She was acting like she had just seen a ghost (a feeling he certainly understood all too well). 

“How do you know that name?”

Dimitri pondered, “You mean the name of the goddess? Every member of Fodlan’s noble families is taught that from a very young age. I know it’s generally frowned upon to refer to her so casually, but to be frank, I really don’t see much of a difference between calling her “goddess” and that. I tend to use them interchangeably.”

She stared at him, mouth slightly agape, seemingly shocked by what he just said. He assumed he crossed a line. 

“I am very sorry, I really didn't mean to offend - “ Dimitri started to say, but she cut him off.

“No, you didn’t offend me. I just…” She looked back down at the ground. “Never mind. It's too hard to explain.” She fell quiet again. Dimitri wasn’t sure what to do after that, so he just handed her back their now mostly drunk cup of tea. He looked up to stare at the night sky; the stars looked beautiful tonight. In Firdiad there was so much air pollution he could hardly ever enjoy the night sky like this. He made a point to savor this moment while he still could. 

“Dimitri?” Byleth asked timidly. Dimitri looked back down at her. 

“Yes?” 

She was absentmindedly twirling her hair between her fingers again, seemingly a nervous tick of hers. It was just as entrancing as it was the first time. 

“Although I may not always know what to say, I consider myself very lucky to have met you.” She put her hand down and looked him straight in the eye. “I just wanted you to know that.” She stared up at him in silence for a few moments, as though she were waiting for a response from him. But he was just dumbfounded. He may not have been able to understand this woman, but he definitely understood how she made him feel; warm. Being raised in such a frigid climate he never thought much about being warm, until he was with her. For one of the very few times in his life, he was completely warm, on the inside and out. He never realized until this very moment just how comforting it could be to have someone standing by your side. 

He smiled at her. “Thank you for the tea, Byleth. I enjoyed our time together immensely. I would love to do this again sometime, if that is acceptable to you.” She nodded, still not showing any semblance of positive emotion, but he knew what she felt. She handed him the cup to allow him to finish their tea, which he gladly did. They then both stood up and went back to their respective tents for the night. For the first time in years, Dimitri slept completely soundly, and he couldn’t help but wonder if that was because of time spent with the curious, wonderful woman he could now hope to call his friend.

Chapter Text

Byleth spent a lot of time the next few days thinking about her night with Dimitri. 

First off, there was the revelation that the little girl living inside her head shared a name with the Goddess. Lady Rhea had never told her the name of the Goddess before, and Jeralt certainly hadn’t either. She cursed the deal she had made with Sothis a few days before, desperately needing to talk to her and get the answers she was so eager to finally receive. But of course, ever true to her word, the little girl had gone silent, leaving Byleth to ponder these questions in an endless curiosity of her own. 

The other thing she thought about was, well, him. Sure, he was kind, charming, undoubtedly handsome (something she had known from the moment she first saw him back in the monastery), but he was a future king. She had no future with him, just an odd trip and a wonderful night that he didn’t even seem to know was with her. 

The four companions journeyed on through the rest of the Oghma Mountains, reaching Remire Village by sundown on their third day of travel. Despite having previously called this place “home” for many years, Byleth could barely recognize it. She hadn’t been back in the many moons following her father’s death; she wanted to, but she just couldn’t bring herself do it. 

“Something’s not right here.” Dedue stated as they walked through the main street of the small town, just passing the small bar where Jeralt, in one of his usual drunken stupors, gave Byleth her mother’s ring and insisted she give to someone she loved someday as much as he loved her. She resisted the urge to smile when she saw it again.

“The streets are dead quiet, none of the villagers are out. It’s like they’re being kept hostage in their own homes.”

“Yes, the governor declared an emergency lockdown when Solon was spotted in the area. They’re trying to gather emergency resources from the emperor himself, but even that’s proving to be more difficult than they had hoped.” Lady Rhea explained. 

The Prince spoke up. “Do we know where exactly Solon is keeping Flayn?” The archbishop nodded. “He gave me their exact coordinates in the letter. It’s obviously a trap; the good thing is that he wasn’t expecting me to bring backup, so we’re still at an advantage, but we will need to move carefully. There’s no room for error here.” She stared directly at Byleth as she said that last part. Why Lady Rhea was so concerned about her specifically was beyond her; maybe it was because she reminded her of her mother, her faithful companion from all those years ago? Either way, Byleth didn’t appreciate being treated like a child who couldn’t defend herself. Maybe this mission could be her chance to prove herself to the archbishop once and for all. 

They moved quickly to the east, Rhea leading them to a covered fortress away from the main street of the village. Byleth stopped dead in her tracks about ten feet away from the fortress’ entrance. She suddenly realized that she had been here before. 

This was the spot where Jeralt was murdered. 

The night that their mercenary camp was attacked, Byleth was on patrol duty with her father. Neither of them was expecting anything to happen, it was just a precautionary measure. They were sitting on a log, playing a card game to pass the time. It was nice. He was so busy with training the new recruits that she hadn’t gotten to spend this one-on-one time with him in so long. 

There was a young girl who walked up to the edge of the camp. Jeralt, believing she was a lost child, paused their game so he could go up to her and see if he could help in any way. They talked quietly for a few minutes. Byleth didn’t even notice the girl pull the blade out until she heard Jeralt’s scream and looked up to see the dagger had gone straight through his chest. 

She was quick to pull out her sword, but she had been ambushed; a number of mages wearing dark cloaks and odd-looking masks suddenly appeared around her, entrapping her from either trying to avenge her father or alerting the other still asleep members of the camp. They attacked her. She dodged their attacks as best she could, but her right knee was badly injured by a miasma blast she couldn’t get away from. She thought she was going to die. Had Lady Rhea not appeared just as suddenly as her attackers did, she surely would have. 

After the battle, Byleth limped over to Jeralt’s body on the ground. He was still breathing, but it was slow; he was going to stop at any moment. The tears fell out of her eyes without herself even realizing it. That was, until Jeralt said:

“To think that the first time I saw you cry, your tears would be for me.”

He coughed. Byleth told him not to say anymore, to save his breath, but he didn’t listen. He never did. The lovable bastard was true to who he always was, even in his final moments.

“It’s sad, and yet… I’m happy for it. Thank you, kid.”

And just like that, he was gone. 

Lady Rhea had told her long ago who was responsible for this heinous attack: a group known as “Those Who Slither in the Dark”, a coven of powerful yet dangerous mages led by Solon who fought against the alleged “tyranny” of the Church of Seiros. Lady Rhea found Byleth’s camp because she had been tracking their movements for many moons prior and thankfully came just in time to save them. Although why this mysterious group would attack a random mercenary troop in the name of the Church’s tyranny was not something she was ever quite able to wrap her head around.

“Byleth?”

She turned and saw Dimitri staring back at her, a look of deep concern gracing his face. She knew it was an extremely inappropriate time to be thinking this, but even in a time of great distress he was the most handsome man she had ever seen. 

“I’m fine.” She insisted. He knew she wasn’t telling the truth, but he nodded anyway and they both continued to walk the path together and down through the trap door where Rhea and Dedue had just escaped. She gripped the ladder's rings tightly as she moved down, a small attempt in letting out her own anger at the situation. As much as she hated to admit it, and as much as she knew Jeralt would call her a damn fool for still believing this, she wanted revenge for what they did to her father. Now for what they did to Flayn as well. And she was damn sure she was going to get it, no matter what. 

Once they both made it down the ladder they moved together down a long, narrow hallway. In the midst of this walk, Byleth looked over at Dimitri. He stood perfectly straight, walking like true royalty even in the face of battle. But even then she could sense the darkness bubbling underneath the surface. She couldn’t help but wonder, was he here for the same reasons she was? For revenge? Was that the reason he constantly moved like a tiger ready to pounce? 

They made it to a large wooden door at the end of the hall. “This is the crypt where Flayn is being held.” Lady Rhea whispered, while making direct eye contact with Byleth. “Everyone, be careful. Don’t make any snap judgements or it may cost us all our lives.” She lowered her head. “May the Goddess be with us all.” With her other hand grabbing the hilt of her sword, Rhea pushed open the door with an unwavering ferocity. This was their point of no return; there was no going back now. 

The first thing they saw when they entered the room was Flayn’s unconscious body lying across a marble slab in the center of the room. She did everything in her power not to immediately rush over to it and make sure her small friend was at least still breathing. Flayn looked miserable, as if the color was completely drained from her skin. Solon and his goons must have done some sort of experimentation on her to make her like this. It still didn’t make any sense. If they were just using Flayn as bait to get to Rhea, why did they need to torture her like this? 

“So, you came with backup. That wasn’t part of our deal.” 

Solon crept out of the shadows, followed closely behind by a small woman with orange hair and large dark eyes. Something about her was so familiar to Byleth, although she didn’t quite know why, she knew that couldn’t be a good thing. 

Lady Rhea stepped out in front of her three companions. “I refuse to negotiate with you, Solon. If there is any justice in this world, this crypt will be your end.” 

The orange haired girl laughed. “Funny! Did you use that line on Nemesis too?”

“Nemesis?” Dimitri questioned, quietly enough so only Dedue and Byleth heard. Byleth was just as bewildered as he was; although she admittedly didn’t understand much about the religion of the Church of Seiros, she did know Nemesis was “the King of liberation” from thousands of years ago. So what does he have to do with Lady Rhea now?

“Archbishop, tell me: do you remember what happened in this village two years ago?” Solon asked. Rhea nodded, moving her head to stare down at the ground. Byleth became even more confused; was he referencing the attack on the mercenary camp and her father’s murder? 

“You hid something here, something that I’ve searched long and hard for. Kronya!” The dark mage turned his attention to the orange haired girl again, who handed him a large sword unlike anything Byleth had seen before. Dimitri gasped. She didn’t understand why.

“Even if you take it, you could never unlock its true power!” Rhea yelled in defiance, but Solon just laughed. 

“You think I didn’t know that? I know a lot more about this weapon than you think I do, Rhea. For one thing,” He pointed one long, bony finger directly at Byleth. “I knew the crest stone wouldn’t be able to resist its pull. I just needed you to point her in the right direction.”

“She is not involved in this!” Rhea yelled, stepping in between Byleth and the dark mage. “This will be my battle, not hers!”

But Solon just frowned. “Oh Rhea, did you really think we weren’t aware of your little experiments? What you did to that poor girl?” His finger was still pointed at Byleth the whole time he said this.

Byleth’s hand reached back to the hilt of her sword on the back side of her belt. Why she was suddenly being targeted in this, she had no idea, but she knew something here wasn’t right. 

“Wait… does she not know?” The dark mage asked, turning his whole attention over to the archbishop. “She follows you around as your lackey, but you never even told her the truth?” 

“That is none of your business, Solon - ”

“What's he talking about, Rhea?” 

Byleth could barely believe the words were coming out of her mouth. Neither could the Archbishop when she turned around to face her ward. She looked afraid; Byleth had never seen her like this. It was frightening. But she had to know the truth if there was one to know. 

“Byleth…” The Archbishop pleaded, her voice in a much lower tone than it had been previously. “Can this please wait? We have to save Flayn. We can not negotiate with these terrorists - ”

“She wants to know the truth, Rhea. Tell her.” 

But it was not Solon who said that, as one would have thought. It was Dimitri, who’s lance was now pointed away from the dark mage he wanted so long to defeat and now towards the Archbishop. Dedue followed suit with his own large guardian axe. 

Rhea trembled. It was the first time Byleth had seen the a previously confident woman completely powerless. It was like her entire world flipped upside down as soon as she entered this crypt. 

Rhea turned to Byleth. “I didn’t want you to find out like this…” She trailed off. Byleth was growing tired of this teasing of information. She just had to know. What experiments did Rhea do on her, and why did a magical little girl that shared a name with the goddess live inside her head? 

“I lost my mother many years ago. I wanted nothing more than the chance to see her again. That sword,” Rhea pointed to the sword still in the dark mage’s hand, “was the only thing left I had of her. It was made from her bones. She used her own heart as its source of power.”

“The crest stone!?!” Dimitri yelled in astonishment. “Rhea, this doesn’t mean - ”

“Yes. I am one of the last children of the Goddess, born from Sothis’ own blood.” 

“Oh, but it’s not just that.” Solon taunted. “Tell them the other part of that story.” 

So Rhea begrudgingly continued: “I needed to protect my mother’s remains. I created the Church of Seiros for that reason; I knew I couldn’t do it on my own.” 

“Lady Rhea, you don’t seriously expect us to believe that you have been Seiros this entire time?” Dimitri asked. The Archbishop fell quiet. That in itself was enough of an answer for the Crown Prince. 

Rhea turned back to Byleth. “So yes, they are right to say I ran experiments to try and bring my mother back. Your mother, Sitri, was one of them; but the crest stone never bonded with her blood, so she was deemed unsuccessful. She fell in love with a Knight named Jeralt. I was there when their child was born at the Monastery; she was born without a beating heart, completely dead to the world. There was only one way to save her.” She locked eyes with Byleth. “I had to put the crest stone inside of her to bring her back to life. I never intended for the child to be a part of the experiments, but she was the one that took.” The archbishop’s eyes began to swell with tears. “You were the one that took, Byleth. You have my mother’s heart inside of you. It is the only thing that is keeping you alive.” 

“Byleth,” Kronya spoke up again, holding the sword out in front of her for the blue haired girl to take. “Take this sword. If Rhea’s story is to be believed, it is rightfully yours.” 

Byleth hesitated. She couldn’t believe what she had just heard; her mother was a failed experiment created by Lady Rhea? Her unbeating heart was because she had the Crest of the Goddess inside of her, keeping her alive? It all made no sense, but at the same time, these were the answers she had been searching for her entire life. 

So, Byleth walked slowly up the stairs to the top of the crypt, towards Solon and his tiny assistant who held out the weapon. Rhea pleaded for her to stop moving; she didn’t listen. If Rhea wanted her to listen, she shouldn’t have lied to her for two years. Byleth reached out and grabbed the hilt of the sword. It glowed a bright crimson color as soon as it met her hands, fitting as though it were made for her. Kronya gasped. Solon allowed an unsettlingly large smile to appear on his face. 

“Very good, Rhea. You finally told the truth this time. Now, tell her the rest of the story.”

“Mother…” Rhea pleaded, looking up at Byleth from where she knelt on the ground. It was remarkable how much she looked like a small child in this light. 

“I wanted you to reunite with it! Reunite with the rest of your body, but Jeralt took you from me when you were a baby. I thought I would never see you again…” The tears continued to drip down the Archbishop’s face. Behind her eyes was a burning intensity; an intensity that Byleth had only seen before in Dimitri’s. She gripped the sword tighter. She had a feeling whatever the next part of this story was, she was not going to like it. 

“Twenty years… twenty years I searched for you, and that bastard that took you from me! And then, I finally found you here. I hid the Sword of the Creator in this crypt with the hope that you would feel its pull, that you would find it and come back to me on your own. But I… I had to make a deal in order to find you. A deal I never wanted you to know of…”

At this point Kronya began jumping up and down and clapping excitedly. “Ooooh , I love this part! This is where I come in!” She stopped jumping and turned to face Byleth: “You see, I had been working as something of a mercenary myself around this time, right before I met this guy over here.” She pointed with her outstretched thumb over to Solon who was still standing behind her. “So Rhea gave me a pretty simple job: find the girl’s camp, take out her leader, but don’t hurt her. Of course, I told her that would be a little too suspicious if only one of them was attacked. She didn’t like the idea, but I brought around a few friends to help make the whole thing more…” She tapped her chin with her index finger. “I suppose “realistic” is the right word. I did the job, but because I brought some help Rhea never paid me!” She turned to Solon. “This guy told me he would help me get my payment back, thus why I’m here now.” She turned back to Byleth. “So sorry kid, but you’re friend over there promised to pay me to kill your Dad. He would probably still be alive if it wasn’t for her.” 

Byleth locked eyes with Lady Rhea. She desperately hoped that the Archbishop would deny what the mage had just told her, tell her it was all a lie. But she couldn’t. Everything that Byleth thought she knew about Lady Rhea was untrue. Byleth began shaking furiously. She felt sick to her stomach. 

She wanted blood. 

“Byleth, I know there is nothing I can say to make this better, other than to express my deepest regret, but…” The archbishop winced. “He knew what taking you from me would do to me. Him constantly moving you around before I could get to you, I couldn’t do it anymore. He was keeping you from me, Byleth. My own mother…” 

“I AM NOT YOUR MOTHER!” 

Byleth swung the sword quickly and, within the blink of an eye, impaled the orange haired girl on her right just as she did to her father all those years ago. The mage collapsed to the ground with a heavy clang. Even if it was just a job to her, she had no right to still be alive after what she did. Byleth never once broke eye contact with Lady Rhea through that whole encounter. 

She started walking towards the archbishop.

“Byleth, I never wanted you to get hurt in that attack. You have to believe me when I say this!” 

“YOU KILLED MY FATHER!”

“Your father took away the only person who I EVER truly loved!” Rhea broke down in tears once more, vitriol filling her voice when she spoke of Jeralt. “All I wanted, for thousands of years, was the chance to see her again, just once! You and your mother were the closest I ever got, and he took you BOTH from me!" She lowered her voice, "Byleth, I know you loved your father, but you have to understand that I…" she began to trail off.

"...I had no other choice.”

“No, you chose to take me from my family, for what reason!?! Because you wanted you wanted your long dead parent back!?! Well guess what: SO DO I!” Byleth brought up the blade in her hand, swinging it up over her head. She was ready to strike. She was ready to finally do what she had been waiting for two long years to do. 

“YES, Byleth!” Solon chided. “Use your anger! Use the Sword of the Creator to destroy her just as she did your father!”

The blade hung up in the air for a moment. Lady Rhea’s eyes met Byleth’s. There was so much sorrow in her face; if it had been anyone else looking at her like this, Byleth would have already dropped the weapon. 

“I suppose I always knew it would end like this. Very well. Kill me, if you must.” 

Rhea bowed her head, relenting that it meet Byleth’s blade. 

Byleth threw the sword to the ground. 

She didn’t do it because she could magically forgive Rhea for all of the sorrow that she had caused her, no. She did it because she realized this was exactly what Solon wanted from her. He wanted her to kill Lady Rhea so that he may take over Fodlan for himself. He wanted Byleth to get her long awaited revenge at the cost of the entire continent. But she was not going to let him have that satisfaction. 

“You will be punished for your crimes Rhea, but I will not kill you.” She declared. Rhea looked at her with genuine surprise, an emotion she had never seen before from the otherwise stoic archbishop. It was more frightening than she could have predicted. 

“If you will not kill her, YOU LEAVE ME NO CHOICE!” 

Byleth picked up the sword to prepare for Solon's inevitable attack; he hit her with a spell she didn’t recognize, thus didn’t know how to dodge. Dimitri screamed her name as the purple orb of magic came hurtling towards her. A long fog spread over her entire body. She tried to move away from it, but couldn’t. That was the last thing she felt before she fell into a chasm of dark nothingness.

**********************

“YOU FOOL! What were you thinking!?!? I leave you alone for a few days and this is the thanks I get!?!?” 

Byleth recognized the voice as soon as she heard it. She had never been more grateful in her life. 

“Sothis! I am sorry, I am so, so sorry…” 

“You should be! This darkness is terrifying!” The little girl yelled, suddenly appearing in front of Byleth as the first thing she had seen since being pulled into Solon’s path. “I don’t know what Seiros was thinking, charging into the enemy’s trap like that, but at least she helped me find answers. Really, both of us.” 

“She’s your daughter. That song, the night of the ball... that was how she learned it from you, wasn’t it?” 

Sothis nodded. “Yes, I remember it all now. I am Sothis, she who died, and then returned. The progenitor God of Fodlan. I hold the power of the Goddess even inside this vessel. And now, there is only one thing left to do with that power…” 

Sothis reached out her hand, as if to join it in Byleth’s own. Byleth didn’t understand what she meant. 

“There is only one thing that can save us from this darkness: the true power of the Gods. However, because I have no body of my own, I must relinquish all of my power to you. You and I will join as one. You will become the Goddess, for all tense and purposes, and I shall disappear for good.” 

“What do you mean ‘disappear’? I’m not going to let you die for me - ” 

“I won’t be dying, Byleth. My spirit will still live on forevermore within your own, I just won’t have this ability to speak with you like this anymore. I must admit, I will miss it. Through you, I got to see and hear this world one more time, even chastise you a bit too,” Sothis chuckled lightly at that. As much as Byleth didn’t want to admit it, she would find herself missing that part too. “It was certainly fun. For that I must thank you. I am very glad that it was to you to whom my fate was bound.” 

Byleth wasn’t sure what to feel anymore. The emotions of everything she had learned within the past twenty minutes had left her feeling completely numb, but hearing that Sothis would no longer be a voice inside her head made her heart heavy. 

“Sothis… I don’t know what to say.” 

Sothis smiled. “You never were one for long goodbyes, were you? That’s okay, you don’t have to say a single thing. Just give me your hand. Pray with me” 

And so, Byleth did as she was told. 

Your will and mine are now as one.

Both sides of time are revealed to you, and you alone.

You know I am the beginning. What shall you do?

So the Fell Star consumes even the darkness itself…

Chapter Text

“What was that sorcery!?! What happened to her!?!?” 

Solon let out an evil cackle. “That was the mystical darkness of the forbidden spell! It is possible that death has not found her yet, but there are fates worse than death. For example, drifting through darkness with no chance of escape, overwhelmed with hopelessness…” 

Dimitri screamed, “You FIEND! You will pay for what you’ve done!" His grip around his lance tightened. "I will slice your body into a thousand pieces while your head watches in horror. You will know the meaning of true pain before I finally allow you to DIE!” 

He could feel the fury building up inside him, building up from the moment he stepped foot into the dark crypt. To find out that Lady Rhea was actually Seiros and had been running a cult to herself this entire time was one thing, but to then find out that she was the one who plotted to kill Byleth’s father was another. When Byleth found that out the look on her face was indescribable; He couldn’t imagine being told by someone you thought you could trust that they were actually responsible for the biggest tragedy of your life. She was a much stronger person than he was; he would have removed Lady Rhea’s sick head from her neck had the roles been reversed.  

And now, in the blink of an eye, Byleth was gone. Likely dead to whatever the dark mage had done to her because Dimitri was too slow to protect her, even though he was standing right there. 

You’re so worthless. You couldn’t even do that right. 

Dimitri ran at the mage, lance pointed directly at his head. Solon directed what was likely a Mire blast at the prince, which he was thankfully able to dodge by piercing end of his lance into the ground and swinging his body weight around it and out of the way of the blast. As he did that, Dedue had swung his axe over his head and attempted to cut the mage down, but Solon had cast a defensive shield spell around himself, not allowing Dedue’s attack to go through. They would have to break the shield before they could even deal any damage to the mage himself. This was proving to be a much harder job than Dimitri anticipated. 

Especially without Byleth there. 

Solon directed his next attack at Lady Rhea, who still knelt helplessly on the ground where Byleth left her. Dimitri wasn’t going to help protect the false Archbishop anymore. But Dedue did, stepping in front of her and allowing his large Duscarian shield to block the blast from hitting both of them. Dimitri silently cursed his retainer for not letting her die when they had the chance. 

There was a strange noise. 

Everyone turned to see what it was; a growing beam of bright white light shined upon them, almost blinding them. Dimitri covered his face with his cape to protect his eyesight. He wasn’t quite sure what he was seeing, but it looked as though someone was piercing a hole into the sky; or, rather, through the very fabric of the universe itself. Then, a woman fell out of said hole, with the Sword of the Creator glowing in her hand. 

That… that’s not Byleth. That couldn’t be Byleth. 

That was his beloved.

His beloved held the Sword of the Creator, glowing in her hands just as it did in Byleth’s. She wore the same armor Byleth had been wearing. He could see it now, her with those trademark mint green features, and finally, there was no denying it: 

Byleth was his mystery woman all along. 

How he ever could have doubted this fact for a single second seemed foolish now that it was obvious she hadn’t even disguised herself that significantly. She held up the Sword of the Creator, pointing it towards Solon in an offensive position.

“NO! This is impossible!” Solon yelled. “What did you see in the darkness of Zahras!?! How were you able to escape it!?!”

Byleth smirked. “I have my ways.”

There it was. That mesmerizing smile. 

She charged at the mage, able to pierce through his shield only with the power of the mighty Heroes Relic in her hands. While she did that, Dimitri rushed over to the still unconscious Flayn laid flat on the slab on the other side of the crypt. He checked her pulse: her heart was still beating, thank the Goddess. He shook her, hoping she would wake; Solon must have put some sort of spell on her to keep in her in this trance-like sleeping state. The Prince wished that he wasn’t terrible at magic so he could do something, anything to wake the poor girl. He spotted a fountain in the corner of the crypt, then grabbed Flayn from off the slab and ran her over to it, hoping that pouring the water on her face might wake her up. In the meanwhile, Byleth and Dedue were now both fighting against Solon, who’s shield had long since been destroyed but was now somehow expertly dodging their attacks. Lady Rhea remained on the floor, motionless. It was a striking image to see just how the fast the once mighty could fall. 

Dimitri scooped multiple handfuls of the ice cold water onto the small girl’s face, but it didn’t seem to be working. He heard a scream. He turned to see Dedue be pierced through the shoulder with a blast of dark magic. Dimitri ran over to his retainers aid, dropping Flayn fully into the water. 

“DEDUE!” He yelled. “Are you alright!?!”

The man from Duscar nodded. “I will be fine, Your Highness.” He stumbled up to his feet, looking worse for wear. Dimitri grabbed his hand.

“You shouldn’t be fighting with an injury like that. Stay with Flayn, make sure she’s okay.”

“But Your Highness, I’m supposed to protect you -”

Dimitri put his hand up to stop his retainer’s speech. “You’ve done more than enough, Dedue. Go help Flayn. Those are my orders.” Dedue reluctantly nodded and walked away, his right hand covering the wound where the blast went clean through his shoulder. 

Dimitri grabbed his lance from off the floor and ran towards the dark mage, who was currently blocking attacks from Byleth, who had long forgone the Sword the Creator and was now using powerful magic attacks against him. Where she suddenly pulled that ability out from he had no idea, but it was clear from the spell and the change in hair that there was a lot more to Byleth than he could ever know. He rushed towards the dark mage with a pincer attack and managed to hit the mage right under his eye. Angered by this attack, Solon cast a powerful chilling wind spell that blew Dimitri back about thirty feet, hitting him like a punch to the gut. As Dimitri took a moment to catch his own breath from the brutal attack, Byleth struck the mage in a diagonal motion with the Sword of the Creator, now expanded so its reach could provide damage from much further away. Whipped with the end of the magical sword, Solon fell to his knees, but he wasn’t done yet; he cast a fenrir spell on Byleth that she was barely able to block. She got hit in her good knee and collapsed to the ground with a screech. 

Dimitri could feel his steel lance beginning to break in his hands as his crest activated. He rushed towards the dark mage again, this time with the strength of an entire army behind him. 

Solon hit the prince with a spell he didn’t recognize; Dimitri was left unable to move, frozen in mid-attack from whatever the dark mage had just done to him. 

“You know, it’s funny how much you look like your father in this light.” Solon announced as he slowly got up from the ground. Had Dimitri not been paralyzed, he would have crushed the man’s skull with his bare hands for bringing his father into this.

“Do you know what Cornelia told me about you?” The mage asked, rhetorically. “She said you would be the toughest one to kill. And sure enough, she was right. How you managed to get away from us all those years ago I will never understand, but now, I finally have my second chance.” The mage raised his hands, preparing to cast the same spell that he had used against Byleth that made her disappear. 

“Goodnight, sweet prince. May Faerghus finally be cured from the disease of the Church, once and for all.” 

The Sword of the Creator pierced through his chest before he could finish the spell. Dimitri was released from his paralysis and he, without a second thought, violently swung his lance to cut the mage's head clean off his body.

Just like that, Solon was no more. 

After a few moments of silently staring down at the body now disconnected from the rolling head on the floor, Byleth looked up at Dimitri and gently asked:

“Are you alright?” 

He looked back at her. He had thought a lot about what he would say in this moment, what he would say to his beloved if he ever had the chance to see her again. But the first thing that he actually said was:

“He said ‘Cornelia’, didn’t he?”

Byleth nodded, confirming Dimitri’s suspicions. He remembered Cornelia all those years ago, right before he and his parents traveled to Duscar, visiting the palace to help Lambert make preparations for his temporary absence. She was one of the King’s closest advisors, handpicked by him after she had saved the Kingdom from a mysterious plague by concocting a potion that cured most of the afflicted before they met an untimely death. Shortly after he died, she was never seen again; it was said she was so distraught by the King’s death that she couldn’t bear to live in Faerghus without him. Dimitri had always secretly suspected that wasn't true, now he had it confirmed. 

And if she wasn’t dead already, he would make her wish that she was. 

So she had allied herself with these fiends to kill the King in hopes that would deal a blow to their powerful relationship with the Church. They were the ones that ultimately committed the tragedy of Duscar. 

And he just killed their leader. 

Dedue walked over to the Crown Prince with Flayn draped over his arms. “Your Highness, we will dispatch the Knights throughout all of Fodlan to search for Cornelia. If she is still alive, she will be duly punished for her crimes against the Royal House of Blaiddyd.” 

Dimitri slowly nodded, still in shock. There was only one thing he could think to do; he looked up at Byleth. 

“So… you’re still sure we haven’t met before?” 

She reached out and grabbed his arm from down around his side, holding his large hand in her own much smaller one. 

“Is it still warm?” She asked, accompanied by a soft smile.

He returned her smile, stroking her hand gently with his thumb, just as she did on that wonderful night. Noble houses be damned, he was gonna marry this woman whether Parliament liked it or not. 

But there was still one thing standing between them and their happy ending; or, rather, sitting. Byleth and Dimitri walked hand in hand towards Lady Rhea, still kneeling on the floor where they had left her before the battle began. 

“Are you going to kill me now?” The archbishop asked softly, still not daring to look either one of them in the eye. Dimitri turned his head to Byleth, expecting her to pull out the Sword of the Creator and do the honors. But instead, she just said:

“No, Rhea. But I believe you have ruled the Church of Seiros for long enough. As vessel of the Goddess herself, I demand you step down from your role as Archbishop and declare you exile from Fodlan, effective immediately.”

Dimitri was amazed by the way Byleth spoke with such power, such confidence. It was as if he was listening to the Goddess herself speak. 

She was going to make a wonderful Queen someday. He no longer even hesitated at that thought. 

But then, the now-exiled Archbishop began to glow. Instinctively, both Byleth and Dimitri drew out their weapons. With a loud screech, Lady Rhea changed shape into a large white dragon, whose body nearly filled the length of the entire crypt. The three companions moved frantically so as not to be smothered by the dragon’s moving body. Then, the dragon burst through the ceiling, flying upwards and upwards towards the night sky, until eventually it couldn’t be seen anymore. The room fell quiet, no one sure what to say after that.

“Well…” Byleth started to say, attempting to gently break the awkward silence.

“... I suppose that was technically following orders.” 

***********************

The trio returned to Garreg Mach with Flayn in tow three days later. Flayn had awoken from her sleeping spell the day after the Dark Mage was defeated, and was thoroughly surprised to hear the news that Lady Rhea had been killed in battle by Solon and her older brother was to take over as Archbishop, effective immediately. 

Or, at least, that was the story that had been agreed upon.  

On the first night of their journey back, Byleth explained everything to Dimitri: there was a little girl living inside her head that turned out to be the Goddess, who cast a spell on her to disguise her so that she may attend the ball without fear of attack from the mages who killed her father (and, apparently, killed his as well). She happily danced with him in disguise, but refused to let him see her true identity out of fear he would think less of the “real” her. He insisted that would never be the case, and that he appreciated (he almost used the word “love”, but caught himself so as to not come off as too forward) every part of her, the former mercenary and the beautiful, kind woman all in one. 

As soon as he said that, Byleth leaned in and smothered him with a kiss. This happened a lot in the following days of their journey, which caused Dedue to have to get up and take many walks around their campgrounds in an attempt to give the new couple a small bit of privacy.

Dimitri also learned that Byleth’s permanent change in hair and eye color was a result of her bonding with Sothis so that she could escape from Zahras, meaning that the former mercenary now had all the powers of a Goddess. Yet despite her newfound divinity, Byleth still acted like the simple, stoic gardener-warrior he fell in love with. One night, while the four companions ate dinner, the Prince announced his intention to formally court Byleth within the rule of the royal line of Faerghus. The newly minted goddess gladly accepted this and agreed to return with him to Fhirdiad once things had been settled in Garreg Mach. Dedue cordially congratulated them both. Flayn threw her arms around Byleth and squealed. Byleth, who’s face had become a lot more expressive since bonding with Sothis, hugged the smaller girl back while a large grin spread across her face. 

Seteth was thrilled to see Flayn again, albeit distraught by the news of the former archbishop’s death. He was coronated in her place the next day. Immediately after the ceremony, Byleth said her goodbyes to both him and Flayn, then returned to Fhirdiad with the Prince and his retainer where a victory celebration and large feast awaited them.

As soon as they made it to the entrance of the palace, Byleth and Dimitri were confronted by a very anxious Rodrigue, still upset with the young Prince for his sudden and rash departure. Before he had the chance to fully scold him, Dimitri made an announcement: 

“Rodrigue, allow me to introduce you to Byleth Eisner of Garreg Mach. She has agreed to my courtship. If Parliament needs any further evidence that she is of noble blood, do not worry: she is a descendant of the former archbishop herself. Any DNA test will prove that this is true.” He explained, the last part technically not being a lie. 

Rodrigue fainted shortly after hearing this news. He was caught by a pair of palace guards and carried onto a nearby couch. 

As Byleth was being shown to an empty room in the palace where she should stay during her courtship (until the time potentially came where she would move into the royal suite with Dimitri), Dimitri went to his room to put on his newly-fitted embroidered suit. The events of the past few days had been hectic, to say the least. He felt as though he hadn’t had a chance to breathe in almost a week. He took a good, long look at himself in the mirror as he slipped the suit jacket around his shoulders. 

The job isn’t over. The traitor is still out there. Why aren’t you out there, hunting her? After everything we did for you, you won’t even do the one thing we've asked you to?

Dimitri saw the transparent shape of his father appear behind him in the mirror. It had been a few days since he appeared to him like this; in a weird way, the young prince almost missed it. 

“Father, I will find her, I promise. But right now, I am going to celebrate.”

What do you have to celebrate? A half victory? A woman who could never really love you?

Dimitri clenched his fists at that mention of Byleth. He accepted a long time ago that this was how things would be from now on, constantly haunted by the voices of the dead. But there was one important thing he learned from Byleth’s strength: he didn’t have to give them power. He could walk away at any chance. 

And so, he did. 

He walked out of his quarters, screamed at by his father with every step, but this time, he didn’t turn around. He walked down the long hall to the dining room, thinking not of the voices but instead of happily reuniting with his beloved. 

He entered the dining room and immediately spotted Byleth wearing a beautiful long blue gown that formerly belonged to his step-mother; she looked beautiful in it. She was faced away from him, beautiful green hair flowing just past her shoulders, talking to Sylvain and Felix. Sylvain said something that Dimitri couldn’t make out from the distance, but he was sure it was inappropriate based on the way Felix swatted him on the arm after saying it. Sylvain then began rubbing his arm exaggeratedly, as if the gentle swat hurt much more than it actually did. Dimitri chuckled; some things really never change. At that point Felix spotted his old friend standing in the doorway and pointed at Byleth to turn around. When she did, he saw that her face was wearing a slightly nervous expression. He couldn’t blame her, considering how much her life has changed in so short a time. He only hoped he could help make her transition to Faerghus life as simple as possible. But as soon as she locked eyes with him, that nervous expression turned into the mesmerizing smile that he’d fallen in love with. 

The new couple stared longingly at one another. They both thought that the other looked just as beautiful as they did the moment they first saw them. 

Dimitri grabbed Byleth’s hand and led her to the front of the room, where she would sit next to him at his rightful place at the head of the long table. Byleth immediately noticed the Prince’s sudden spike in anxiety and squeezed his hand gently in an attempt to comfort him. Once they had both sat down in front of the large crowd, Dimitri whispered to her:

“How do you feel about this?” He looked at though he was about to faint just as Rodrigue did before.

But Byleth just beamed back at him. “I’ve never been happier.” She whispered back. 

And that was all that he needed.

Chapter Text

In the year following the battle at Remire Village, Prince Dimitri of Faerghus met with Archbishop Seteth, as well as representatives of Fodlan’s fellow ruling families (who Dimitri was very happy to see ended up being his old friends Claude and Edelgard), to discuss church reform in hopes of avoiding another “Those Who Slither in the Dark” situation. Edelgard’s suggestions were bold, believing the only way Fodlan could move forward in a positive direction would be to dismantle the system of nobility completely. Dimitri and Claude disagreed, although they perfectly empathized with her point of the crest system being inherently flawed. Seteth proposed a compromise: the nobility would slowly move away from favoring those with crests to instead a merit system, chosen at the discretion of the the leaders of the three nations to reward service to their lands instead of noble blood. Dimitri and Claude agreed to this suggestion quickly. Edelgard was hesitant, but ultimately relented that it would be a good start in dismantling the system of oppression that had plagued Fodlan for so long. 

In terms of the Kingdom specifically, Dimitri was able to convince the noble houses of Parliament to separate Kingdom and Church affairs, taking the “Holy” out of the “Holy Kingdom of Faerghus”. It was a simple matter to achieve due to the recent revelations about the Tragedy of Duscar being caused in hopes of weakening the Church. A formal apology was issued to the remaining people of Duscar, but Dimitri knew it was not nearly enough after what the Kingdom had done to their people. 

Speaking of the tragedy, Cornelia was found three months later hiding in Empire territory and was quickly taken care of by the newly appointed Empress of Adrestia Edelgard, who had the mage beheaded for her crimes. The Empress had offered to give Dimitri the head as a trophy, but he refused. As much as it would have appeased the voices of the dead that still rang between his ears, he now had something else to fight for, something to believe in that wasn’t getting revenge. 

Dimitri couldn’t wait to return home to Byleth. 

He rushed out of Garreg Mach Monastery as fast as he could once the meeting had ended, but was stopped dead in his tracks by an eager Claude, who proudly announced: 

“The Leicester Alliance is disbanding. We’re giving control of our lands back to the Kingdom. Congratulations!”

Dimitri, now completely distracted from his impatient exit, desperately begged Claude for more information. 

Claude explained the Alliance’s turmoil in response to both his Grandfather’s death and Lady Rhea’s. With the eastern lands turning into a place of chaos and disfunction, Alliance leader Claude met with the four most prominent ruling houses to discuss a plan of action; they decided establishing a centralized ruling power could resolve a lot of the issues of political infighting that the Alliance was now facing. And Claude believed there was no more perfect leader than their neighbor to the west, the soon-to-be-appointed King of Faerghus. While the idea was controversial at first, the Alliance leaders ultimately agreed. 

Dimitri was dumbfounded. 

“You might wanna close your mouth, Your Highness, before a fly gets in.” 

The Prince didn’t know what to say. “Claude… I am obviously very flattered by all of this, but… do you really believe that I am capable of effectively ruling over that many?” 

“Yes! That's why I'm telling you this!” Claude insisted. “And at the very least, if you’re not, I'm sure that wonderful new girlfriend of yours who hopefully becomes our queen would be.” He said with a wink. 

Dimitri was still so dumbfounded he couldn’t even respond to Claude’s teasing with his usual annoyance. 

“So if this scheme of yours comes to be, what will become of you, Duke Von Riegan?”

Claude shrugged. “I’ve got other plans. There’s a whole world outside of Fodlan, one that I think could benefit from allying with a less polarized land.” He made eye contact with the Prince and smiled. “I’m leaving for Almyra tomorrow. If all goes to plan, I’ll be coming back with contracts for you to sign about a new open border policy. How does that sound, Your Majesty?” 

Dimitri scolded Claude for referring to him as “Majesty” before his coronation. Claude just laughed in response. 

And so, ruling power of the former Leicester Alliance fell to the Kingdom of Faerghus. Edelgard, who had also come to appreciate Claude’s scheme of reforming Fodlan, agreed to a loose-border policy between Empire and Kingdom territory, meaning that the Empire and the Kingdom established a system of checks and balances so both lands could be considered parts of a whole of Unified Fodlan. 

Seteth thought that Lady Rhea would have been very pleased to see the state of Fodlan now. 

And so, Dimitri returned home to Fhirdiad the day before his coronation as King, happier than ever to see his beloved waiting for him out on the balcony of the palace. She was staring out at the night sky when he walked up behind her, moonlight reflecting off her mint green hair and making her look somehow even more divine than she usually did, an act he would have thought was impossible had he not been seeing it with his own eyes. 

“It is a beautiful night, is it not?” 

Byleth jumped. Dimitri immediately began to apologize. “I’m very sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you-”

But Byleth just laughed. “That’s okay. It’s a surprise, but a welcome one.” She walked towards him and wrapped her arms loosely around his neck. “Welcome home.” She whispered to him. He had only been gone for a few days, but to both of them, it felt like a lifetime apart. 

“It is wonderful to finally be back.” He whispered, close enough to her face that she could feel his warm breath against her skin as he talked. Byleth closed the gap between them with her  soft lips, moving slowly and carefully against his chapped ones. She wanted to ask about the news she had heard of the Alliance disbanding to join the Kingdom, but she decided that could wait. Nothing should ruin this beautiful moment between them.

He gently pulled away from the kiss after a few moments, which made her pout. “Beloved, I must ask you,” He said quietly, face now leaning away from hers so she could take a good look at him. “Do you think I need a haircut?” He asked. His hair had gotten quite long, now falling down just past his neck, a quite striking difference from the slight strands he sported when she first saw him back in the Monastery. 

She smiled. “If you believe you do, then I will oblige. But to be honest, I quite like this look for you.” She adopted a more sultry tone with her last sentence, which caused the Prince to blush slightly, then pull her in closer so that her head was pressed firmly against his large chest. 

“Well, if you really like this, I suppose I have no choice but to never cut my hair again!” He joked. She giggled into his chest. Even after all this time, Dimitri was still one of the few people who could make her laugh like that. 

The couple had stood in that position for a few quiet moments, just enjoying each others touch. Then, the Prince began to shuffle. 

“Beloved… there is something I wish to give you before the coronation tomorrow.” He said, sounding a bit nervous as he did. Byleth took her head off his chest so she could look him in the eye. He pulled something out of his pocket and displayed it to her: a small black box. Opening it with his thumb and index finger revealed a beautiful, dark emerald engagement band sitting inside. 

She stood there, motionless, mouth slightly agape. Even though she knew this was likely to happen, she still found herself surprised when it actually did.

“Please, I beg of you, say something!” Dimitri begged, starting to become more and more nervous that Byleth would not accept his request. “If you do not wish to accept, please just tell me. If so, I will face the truth and walk away.” He looked and sounded as though he’d just been punched in the gut as he said that last part.

“NO! That’s not it at all!” 

She quickly pulled something out of her own pocket: a silver ring with purple embroidery on it. Dimitri recognized it immediately as her mother’s wedding band. 

“You just beat me to it.” She said, a mischievous smirk gracing her face. 

Now it was Dimitri’s turn to go silent.

“Please, I beg of you, say something!” She mocked, mimicking his nervous tone from a few moments before. That was enough to snap him out of his trance and laugh heartily. “Oh Byleth, your answers will never cease to amaze.” He declared. “Shall we exchange them?” He asked. Byleth nodded excitedly in response. 

Dimitri slid the emerald ring onto Byleth’s ring finger first, being very careful so as not to break the ring (or her hand) in his excitement. Once that was over, Byleth placed her ring on Dimitri’s much larger hand. She had been afraid her mother’s ring might not fit on Dimitri’s finger, but it seemed to slide on perfectly, as though it were crafted just for him. She looked up to find him staring at her, a lovestruck expression gracing his face. 

“So… how does it feel to be the future Queen of Faerghus?” 

She smirked again. “I feel like Sylvain is going to have a field day when he finds out about this.” She said, which made the soon-to-be-king grimace. 

“Please do not bring up Sylvain at a time like this. I would prefer to associate this moment with happy memories.” 

She laughed and pulled him through the large glass door of the balcony and back inside the palace. Once inside, she planted another large kiss on his face; they got a lot better at doing that in the time since the Goddess Tower. Which reminded him:

“Oh, by the way.” He said as he broke free from their kiss once more, making Byleth pout yet again. “The Garreg Mach ball is coming up. Edelgard told me to ask you if you would like to joint host with the Empire, as a symbol of our new unification?”

She lifted an eyebrow in confusion. “Edelgard wanted you to ask me this?”

“Yes,” he then sheepishly admitted, “I may have gotten a little too excited and told her and Claude about my plans for tonight. They say congratulations, by the way.”

Byleth snorted. “I appreciate that. Well then, you can tell Edelgard I would be more than happy to host the Garreg Mach ball with her. After all, that ball is very special to me.” 

“Really? Why?” 

She snorted again and grabbed the soon-to-be-King’s hand, pulling him once more down the hall and into the audience chamber where they would happily announce the news of their engagement to an eagerly awaiting Dedue and Rodrigue. 

And they all lived happily ever after. 

THE END