A/N: This idea came to me early on in my planning of Time Crackers. In direct contrast to TC, which is pure crack and humor, this story is a more serious take on time travel. While there will be moments of humor here and there, the aim of this story is to be more along the lines of hurt/comfort, and will eventually be very liberal with fluff.

I will also be including my personal headcanons, some of which are featured in my other oneshots - which can be thought of as prequels to this story.

Despite what the summary and prologue may suggest, don't expect this story to jump into tackling the big issues of the threats yet to come, or for big complicated fight scenes. While I may eventually get to those things, that is not the focus of this story.

This is, at its core, a romance between Byleth/Rhea. The secondary focus is family, and Byleth's bonds with those she loves.

0oOo0

Enlightened Year 243

Red Wolf Moon

Garreg Mach

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Ash and smoke swirled chaotically through the air, the red-stained sky a violent reflection of the hellish landscape below. Fires raged across the shattered city, once peaceful streets twisted and ravaged by the flames of war. Buildings crumbled as the blaze consumed all in its path, the screams of pain and fear fading in frequency as those who could not flee fast enough swiftly met a violent end.

Garreg Mach, seat of power for both the United Kingdom of Fódlan and the Church of Seiros, lay in ruins.

The distraught queen of the war-torn land dropped to her knees upon the impromptu battlefield, the bloody and still-warm Crest Stone of Seiros clutched desperately to her chest with one hand, the other holding onto the pommel of her sword, the Sword of the Creator, in an attempt to keep herself from completely collapsing. Her breaths came in harsh gasps, the thick smoke pervading the city compounding with what she dimly recognized as a punctured lung making her attempts to get enough air as painful as they were futile. Her battered and beaten body bled from countless wounds, the most serious of which stretched right above her heart and seeped a continuous stream of blood interspersed with shimmering green.

Through the haze of smoke and flame Byleth could just barely make out the shadowy form of Nemesis approaching slowly, his sole remaining arm holding his twisted version of her sword loosely at his side, its dark glow seemingly consuming the light around it.

She tried desperately to Pulse back in time but, as with her previous attempts, the sudden pain in her chest was debilitating - and it was all she could do to gasp for air that just would not come. She could feel, with a clarity born from memories not her own, the Crest Stone in her own chest slowly cracking - the green light escaping her wound flaring brighter and more consistently with each failed attempt to turn back time.

Still, despite the pain and certainty of death, Byleth could do nothing more than try again.

She collapsed, sword clattering to the ground beside her. Limbs barely responding in her weakened state, it took what little energy she had left to drag the sword closer and clutch both it and Seiros' Stone to her weeping chest mere moments before booted feet would have crushed them.

"And with this, the taint of the Fell Star, the False Goddess, will finally be struck from this world." Nemesis' voice was cold, near emotionless, though his red eyes glowed with unquenchable rage. He reversed his grip on his sword and, with the one hand he had left, prepared to jab it downwards.

"I will end you." Byleth's voice was low, the cracked words barely audible above the roar of the surrounding flames.

Nemesis paused.

"For my people." Byleth coughed and wheezed, fresh blood splattering across the large boots before her. She weakly glared up into darkly amused eyes, her hand reflexively clutching Seiros' Stone tighter to her. "For my wife. For the hard-won peace that you have destroyed, and the countless lives you have taken. I will end you, Nemesis."

"No. Oh, no," Nemesis chuckled darkly, his voice booming and mad. His grip tightened on his sword, the leather of his glove creaking at the shear strength he put behind the motion. "It is I who will end you, pathetic goddess. And when I have slaughtered you like I did Seiros, like the utter vermin you are, I will take both Crest Stones and my collection will be complete. Never again will your kind be a blight upon this land, and at last the Agarthans will know victory."

"I win." Nemesis' eyes flashed coldly, triumphantly, as he raised his sword for one final blow.

Byleth gritted her teeth and clenched her eyes shut. Gathering every last ounce of determination and strength she had left, she threw absolutely everything she had into Pulsing. Pushing through the searing pain, she screamed, power flooding her body as the Sword and Stone clutched to her chest shone in the ensuing blast.

The last thing Byleth was aware of was a brilliant green flash of light and the sound of something within her shattering before she was utterly consumed by darkness.

0oOo0

Imperial Year 1180

Harpstring Moon

Garreg Mach

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Rhea awoke with a pained gasp, hand rising instantly to press desperately against her chest. It was only after feeling the frantic beating of her heart did her shoulders slump in relief, even as the phantom sensation of her Crest Stone being forcefully torn from her chest caused her to shudder. Mind and emotions in turmoil, she gazed unseeingly around her dark chambers for a moment before almost violently throwing off her covers.

Free from the suddenly too-restricting material, Rhea stood up and, after taking a few steadying breaths, donned the cloak and light slippers already waiting by the door. Leaving her chambers, she quietly traversed the silent hall until she came upon the set of doors she sought. Exiting onto the Star Terrace, she took a few more steps before she stopped abruptly and closed her eyes. A series of deep, calming inhales and exhales had her furiously beating heart finally settle down into a semblance of normality.

"I had wondered if I would find you here again tonight."

Rhea twitched slightly at the sudden words, though she managed to breathe through her surprise. Opening her eyes, she glanced at the man leaning against the far ledge, his green eyes studying her. She inclined her head in his direction.

"Seteth," Rhea acknowledged quietly. After a moment of hesitation, she joined him. Hands gripping the smoothed stone ledge, she turned her gaze to look down upon the rest of Garreg Mach, eyes unerringly drawn to every hint of fire, the image of streets consumed in flame still fresh in her mind. She feigned ignorance. "You are up rather late."

"Or rather early, one might argue. I could say the same of you," Seteth stated almost mildly, deciding to humor her. "Trouble sleeping?"

Rhea's eyes flashed to the left, a shrill scream causing her hands to curl into the stone, her grip only relaxing when an embarrassed laugh quickly followed, the sound of frantic apologies carried upon the wind. "…Of a sort. I suddenly found myself in need of some fresh air."

Silence descended between them, and for a moment Rhea was hopeful that Seteth would let the matter drop. His frustrated sigh as he decided to stop humoring her had her closing her eyes in resignation.

"This is the fourth such night," Seteth frowned in visible concern. "It is… concerning, to say the least."

"I know," Rhea glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

"That your dreams have left you so shaken four nights in a row-"

"I know," Rhea sighed wearily. "I am aware of how unusual it is, Seteth."

"It is truly the same dream each night?" Seteth asked, brows furrowed.

"…More or less," Rhea admitted after a moment's hesitation. She leaned on the ledge, gaze far away as she thought back to the events of the past few nights. "They start with small flashes – people, places – some I recognize, some I do not but feel as if I should. Sound trickles in slowly. Still-life pictures come alive until an entire scene plays out. They differ, in length and content, but the last scene…"

Rhea breathed, the flesh of her arms prickling despite the warmth of her cloak. The sound of her true name being screamed echoed in her mind, the familiar voice full of horrified despair. She swallowed thickly. "The last scene is always the same."

"That you dream of battle is not so surprising. Even the appearance of Nemesis…" Seteth trailed off with a frown. He crossed his arms, one finger tapping his chin slowly in thought. "You are certain they are not memories?"

"No." Rhea paused. Hesitated. Shook her head. "No. They do not feel like simple dreams, but the contents… impossible."

"You do not think…" Seteth's finger stilled, a troubled look sliding onto his face. "An omen? Could it be Her…"

Rhea bit her lip, eyes drawn upwards to the starry sky. "As much as I would love a sign from Mother, I can only hope that it is not the case. For if it is…"

Rhea shook her head. "Let us speak of something else. How has our new Captain been faring with his return to duties?"

Seteth stared at Rhea for a long moment before sighing and acquiescing to her desire to let the matter drop, if only for the moment. "As you well know, it has been a little over a month since Jeralt resumed his prior duties as Captain of the Knights of Seiros. By all reports he is settling in nicely and has quickly gained the respect and trust of those serving under him. There have been no incidents with the Knights since his appointment."

"That is good news," Rhea nodded distractedly, a pensive look still upon her face.

"If I may, you seemed rather pleased to hear that Alois had convinced the former Knight Captain to return." Seteth commented idly.

"Jeralt was a dear friend, as well as an excellent knight. I was sad to hear that he had left after the fire twenty years ago." Rhea admitted easily, finger tapping absently against the stone ledge.

"And yet it was news of his daughter that caused the larger emotional reaction. You even insisted that she, an unknown quantity, become a professor despite her lack of qualifications. Since then you have asked after her almost daily, and yet despite this vested interest you seem to have in the young woman, you have worn a pensive frown each time she has come up during conversation in the past week." Seteth pointed out shrewdly, finally giving in to the curiosity that had been building within him. "Just what has Jeralt's daughter done to vex you so?"

Rhea was silent for a long moment as she mulled over the same issue that had been plaguing her mind for days. She knew why she should be interested in the girl, despite the pain having hope could bring. And she would be lying if she denied that her mind hadn't immediately jumped to the possibility that she might be Sitri's lost daughter…

But those dreams…

They were, quite simply, impossible.

And yet, they felt so real.

"…I cannot say it is anything more than a feeling." Rhea murmured finally as her gaze drifted from star to star. "A feeling that I have lost something I greatly coveted… and yet gained something infinitely precious in the process."

A gust of wind followed her murmured words, catching on her green hair and blowing the long strands until they twisted whimsically in the air. Pulling the cloak tighter around her body, Rhea blinked and cleared her throat before turning around to go back inside. Hand pausing on the door, she glanced back at Seteth. "There are a few hours yet until dawn. We should both attempt to get some more rest."

Not waiting for Seteth's ensuing nod, she immediately slipped back inside, the door closing quietly behind her.

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