CW: Lots of implied NSFW fun. I abridged this chapter from its AO3 version to abide by FFN's guidelines, so feel free to check out the alternate version if you wanted to see the smut (my username's the same on that site). Thanks for reading!
New Dawn
Numbness.
Lightheadedness.
There was rain. I could hear the vibrations of it against the walls of the building.
What building was that? Where was I?
It was...warm. There were bandages around my leg, but the bone felt mended. A cloth was wrapped around my waist, and thick bed covers were pressed softly to the rest of my uncovered skin.
Fingers began brushing the hair out of my face, trailing along my forehead. When I opened my eyes, you were sitting beside me, mouth parting as you saw me stir. This wasn't a dream, was it? You really were here.
"You're alive. You're alive…" you said softly, the solemnity on your face breaking apart as you pressed your forehead to mine. I'd made you worry again, hadn't I? Still lightheaded, I forgot myself and closed my eyes. The numbness in my body made it feel like I was floating. The sound of the rain, the bed I was laying on, all of it—all of it seemed so far away. Except for you. You were here. You were here…
"I...sorry," you said. Before I could start to savor the warmth of your skin, you withdrew. As you leaned back away from me, I saw a wide cut that stretched along the side of your jawbone, just towards the start of your neck. What had happened?
I opened my mouth to speak, but I just coughed and coughed, and nothing came out. I tried again. Air passed weakly through my throat, but I couldn't make a sound.
"Don't speak," you said. "Just focus on breathing."
Shaking my head, I gathered all my energy to lift my arm and point at the cut, my fingertip grazing the skin of your jaw.
"Ah. I got a few scratches from when I caught you, that's all. You shouldn't concern yourself over…" you trailed off as you saw me lower my eyebrows, as though hearing my thoughts. Exhaling, you took my raised hand and lowered it from your face. "I was flying to Almyra," you said, "because I thought that was where you were. But maybe your god of miracles helped me, because on the way I saw Tara soar up from the mountains instead, not far from you. And I, ah...jumped from my wyvern when I saw you falling." You sighed as I made a face. You knew how I would have scolded and teased you over your carelessness if I could speak.
That all wasn't a hallucination, then—in a sense, you really were flying through the sky when I saw you. You were always full of surprises, weren't you?
"None of that's important right now, though," you said, pressing my hand between both of your own. "You're alive. I…" Your mouth froze as your voice hid itself away. There must have been something weighing on you. You tried speaking again. "...I found some healers that were able to stabilize you. They said we're in a place called Kupala. They said your spell had grown stronger—that the petals have built up in your lungs. That...they won't come out."
I could tell from your downturned eyes. I almost died.
I should have pieced it together sooner—that this curse and blessing was nearly killing me. I shouldn't have let it get this far, or let it endanger my own ambitions.
I shouldn't have made you so sad again.
Quietly, hoarsely, you said, "Claude, I...I wanted to find you because...I think I know what's been causing your pain." Lifting up my hand, you placed my palm over the heat of your chest. Lightning flashed across the window of the room.
"Do you know what's been causing mine?"
Oh…
Oh.
"I know you had your reasons for leaving, but...don't I get a say in this?" Your voice kept on coming, like a storm that I couldn't stop—like a storm that I...I didn't want to stop. "You can let me be there for you. I know that there are those who can be unkind to people like us, but I'm not afraid...and I'm not as selfless as you think. Because I would rather have you in my life over everything else in this world."
Thunder echoed through the air, chasing after the light that came before it.
Through my palm, I could feel how your voice thrummed through your chest. Through me. That was the only thing anchoring me right now, the only thing telling me that this was all real.
Even as my heart pounded against the numbness in my body, I didn't know what to do. I couldn't put you in harm's way, or make you hurt by being seen with me. At the same time, how could I hurt you further by turning you away? If you were in my position, you'd have made a miracle happen. You'd have figured out something...
You said, "I never got to tell you before, but...my dream is to know who I am...to discover new feelings and new things about myself...to change...and to do all of those things at your side."
That...that was a wonderful dream.
I promised I'd help you with your dreams, didn't I? And more than that...I wanted to.
It'd take a miracle to make this work. A miracle...yes—of course. Maybe I could—
There was so much I needed to tell you. Of course, as soon as I knew what I wanted to say, it had to be at the moment when I couldn't say anything.
You took in a shuddering breath, and I felt the tremor of your eyes in my own heart.
I couldn't tell you that, with every fiber of my being, with everything I had, I—
"...I love you, Claude."
You...you loved me.
You really loved me.
With more strength than I knew I had, I brought my hands to your face. I felt the smoothness of your cheeks as your eyes fell half-closed at my touch. Lowering your face near my own, I slowed to a stop. I couldn't ask you if it was alright, but you read my eyes and gave your answer. Traveling the rest of that distance between us, you pressed our lips together.
The storm outside strengthened as the wind tangled against the rain.
Your mouth was chapped in some areas, and soft in others, and it was yours...ah...it was yours. As we kissed, I felt that same fear I'd felt too many times before, but it was being drowned in wave upon wave of something—something like want, something like joy.
Pain.
Though I didn't want to separate from you, I was forced to push away as my lungs started spasming.
"Claude!" you said, holding me as I coughed over the side of the bed until my throat felt raw. I could feel the pain in my chest growing stronger as the shards of numbness around my heart started to break apart and fall away. As the coughing died down, I saw a scattering of white, bloody petals on the floor.
"Claude…" you said again, voice shaking with worry. You looked both afraid and hopeful, unsure of what this meant. You raised a hand to my face, stroking a drop of blood from my lips with your thumb.
"T…" I managed to make some noise this time. The fuzziness around my vision started to clear, just a little.
"What do you need?" you asked.
I put my trembling hands on your face and brought you back into another kiss. Hesitating just a moment, you kissed me back with concern still on your lips. I tilted my head slightly, and you opened your mouth in response, starting to taste mine.
More petals started to burst from my throat, and I turned my head away as I coughed them out, for what was probably minutes on end. My diaphragm felt sore and cramped at the end of it, but air was flowing into my lungs again. I inhaled deeply, feeling the prickling numbness within me grow softer, smaller.
"It's...it's coming out…" you said, glancing first at the bloody petals strewn across the floor, then at me. "Claude, what…"
"Do you understand now?" I whispered, caressing my hand along your cheek, my fingertips touching the base of your neck. "Byleth…"
You looked shocked to hear me speak. As the realization dawned on you too, your eyes relaxed and your cheeks flushed. "I think I do."
I sighed happily as you kissed me again with greater confidence, your tongue wrapping around mine. The emptiness that left me was being replaced with pain, yes—and yearning, rashness, elation, a fevered desperation. Your taste, your warmth—I wanted all of it. I wanted you in every way imaginable.
The relief that radiated from your body transformed into a sort of giddiness. Your hand reached behind my head, grasping my hair and pulling me in as you kissed my chin and the corner of my lips.
"I'm so glad. I'm so glad…" you breathed, before kissing me deeply once more. Enclosing my arms around your neck, I started to moan into your mouth. Your breathing quickened as we pushed and pulled at each other urgently, madly.
When our mouths finally parted, I took a break to cough and catch my breath. You brushed the petals away from me, not wincing as the wisps sliced into your fingers. I was still coughing up a few petals as you leaned in to kiss me again.
"Ah, Byleth," I said, breathing hard as I pushed you back. "You'll get hurt…"
You stared into my eyes for only a moment, our breaths shattering as our mouths collided. I could taste iron intermingling with the taste of you as the petals cut your tongue.
"I don't care," you whispered as you let me kiss away a fleck of red in the corner of your mouth, before moving your head lower, as if reading my mind, answering my impatience with your own.
Your teeth found my collarbone, and I coughed and panted brokenly as I was overcome with desire.
"What do you want, Byleth?" I asked, tugging at your clothes as you struggled to shed them completely.
"I want you," you said against my skin.
"Then have me."
The wind and rain crashed against the windowpane, casting wild shadows across the room as you climbed on top of me, our bodies finding each other and moving together in a kind of heated dance. We filled the air with our breaths, our cries, the sound of each other's names, until the storm eventually quieted.
Our movements grew still, and I pulled you close to me, on top of my chest. With a sigh, I looked down and kissed the top of your head. I could smell your sweat through your hair.
As the two of us got cleaned up, I made a face as pain shot through the bottom of my spine.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm pretty sore," I said. "Oh, hey, don't worry about it. You weren't hurting me. It's just...been a while. And by that, I mean a while."
"So everything…that was okay?" you said, looking down.
"Mm. Believe me, that was more than okay," I said, a playful roughness edging into my voice. When I saw your unease as you looked my way, I reached out for your hand and pulled you a step closer. I kissed your palm and the insides of your fingers. "Hey. You really worry too much."
I tugged your arm a bit more insistently, and you climbed into the bed beside me. Our foreheads were touching as you pressed your body flush against mine. After a moment, I felt you relax. "And you—" I started, then tried again. "That was okay for you...right?"
"Yes. More than okay," you said, and smiled at me. "I'm just glad that I didn't hurt you." You planted kisses along my closed eyes.
I inhaled and exhaled deeply. "Good. And I don't want you to go along with something if you don't know how you're feeling about it. I want it to be when you're sure."
"Alright. I promise you that."
As if to silence any further concerns, you nuzzled your nose and mouth to my cheek, your face pressed between mine and the pillow.
"I love you," I said at last, surprised at how right it felt to say those words as I held you. "I...I don't want to let you go."
"Don't," you said simply. Right. So long as you were around, everything was that easy.
"Alright," I said softly. "I won't. But first...you should go back, after today. Fódlan still needs you."
You pushed back to look at me. You nodded, but the reluctance was clear in your eyes.
"So you can be a little selfish, after all," I teased, pinching your cheek. With a slight eye roll, you swiped my hand away and started playfully biting my fingers. "I guess you're gonna miss me, huh?"
"Not as much as you'll miss me," you replied against my knuckles as you kissed the back of my hand.
"Obviously," I said with a smile. "I really didn't mean to ask more favors of you, but...this has to be done. Our two lands, in the very least, need to be able to accept relationships like ours before I can love you freely. I won't have you suffering under a prejudiced world. I...I wouldn't be able to bear it."
You looked at me with all the sweetness and acceptance in the universe, and you reached up to pull my head closer, stroking my hair. "I understand," you said. "If that's how you feel, then I don't mind. And besides...it might be good for me to have some time to reflect on my own, before we spend the rest of our lives together."
"Th-the rest of our—" Your eyes lifted in amusement as I started tripping over my own words. My face was burning. "Don't—don't propose so inelegantly, my friend! I'd like at least one thing in our relationship to go the way it's supposed to!" I said indignantly. My heart was thumping something awful...not so much because you'd surprised me, but because I really liked the sound of spending my life with you.
"Alright, then forget I said anything."
"You can't just ask a man to forget something like that! Sheesh. Who said you were allowed to have a sense of humor?" I mumbled, certain that you were going to be the death of me. "Anyway, I support all that self-reflection stuff wholeheartedly...but that's the sort of thing that you're supposed to take your time with. I think you're overestimating the amount of time I'll be away—or should I delay my return to give you more time to yourself?" I smirked when I saw you glaring at me in reproach as I turned the tables on you, though I knew you could tell I was kidding.
"No. Definitely not."
"Good," I laughed. "Because I doubt I could stay away from you for more than a few months, tops."
It was your turn to go red in the face, your mouth barely falling open as it all sunk in. You looked at me in wonder. "Is that really possible, though? The war within Fódlan alone took years to resolve...do you think you can really do so much on your own, in such little time?"
"But don't you see? I won't be on my own now," I said, stroking the backs of my fingers along your cheek. "Because of that...and because I'd like to see you as soon as possible...I'll make a miracle happen. Just you wait."
"A miracle?" you said quietly, with just the slightest quiver to your breath.
"You've brought all sorts of miracles into my life, you know. So the next time you see me, I'll bring a miracle to you." I swept the bangs from your face, looking into your green eyes, which shone brighter and stronger than any stars could. "It feels like that's how it's always been, you know. That no matter how hard or impossible things got, you would always return to me. Now, my dearest friend, it's my turn. And nothing will stop me from coming back."
"I know," you said. We fell into silence as you kissed me, again and again.
White flowers and blood from before had been strewn all along the side of the bed, but the suffocating feeling in my lungs had gone. The coughing had stopped, too—and it would never come back again. We didn't need to say anything else.
I led the army behind me as we came from the East, seemingly pouring out of the sunrise itself as we joined your forces with an Almyran war cry. We crashed through the enemy ranks, our horses and wyverns trampling and clawing sideways through a wall of mages. I urged Tara past the others to find you.
Luckily, you weren't too difficult to spot. Your green hair glinted in the sun, just over a hundred meters away. You were atop the stairs in front of the entrance of Garreg Mach, fending off a shocking number of enemies that had gotten past your front ranks. Relief washed over me when I saw that you weren't hurt.
When the defeated remnants of the Empire and Those Who Slither in the Dark rose up against Fódlan, those we'd fought alongside in the war had all returned. I could see them now, not too far from you and the Knights of Seiros—there was Hilda, Lorenz, Raphael, Ignatz, Lysithea, Marianne, Leonie—everyone.
"Look! Claude's here!" Cyril shouted as he spotted me from afar, and everyone began to cheer.
The beleaguered expression on your face lit up with a new ferocity when your eyes met mine, and you tore down the soldiers that surrounded you like a whirlwind.
With a shout, I rained arrows on the forces that were threatening our allies, and dove down with Tara to slip my sword through the armor of any enemies that defended against my first attack. The ring you'd given me before you left was fitted under my glove, and though I was aware that I was dangerously bordering on superstition, I felt as though I was under its protection. I fought with a certainty that I'd never felt before in battle, something bordering on recklessness, moving towards where you were as though pulled by the tide. You fought towards me in turn, the wind tousling your hair as you struck Agarthan mages down with your blade with fearsome strength.
Once we reached each other, I leapt off Tara and sent her to safety, holding my impatience at bay as I focused on the enemies in front of me. I wanted to feel your hand in mine, to see you more closely, to see if the ghosts that had been haunting you for so long had finally left your eyes—but the feeling of your shoulders against me as we fought back-to-back told me everything I needed to know. With the improved morale and sheer force of numbers that the Almyrans brought to your army, the rest of the fight was won over quickly.
As we felled the last commander, the few remaining enemy troops began to scatter, making their retreat—this time, for good.
Everyone began cheering fiercely, soldiers from Almyra and Fódlan alike embracing each other like old friends.
"Well? How was that for a miracle?" I said with a laugh, turning to you. You were watching me with a wry smile.
Shaking your head, you said, "You're late. It's rude to keep a fella waiting, don't you thi—"
I cut you off as I grabbed you and lifted you off the ground, feeling how weightless you felt as we spun around and around.
And you began to laugh.
Your voice rang through the air, sounding brightly above the raucous noise around us, pure and coarse and sweet and cascading like a waterfall, and I nearly stopped breathing. Losing my footing, I spun out of control and we fell to the ground, with you on top of me.
After all of our efforts to rebuild this world, there were only a few soldiers who stared at us before hurriedly turning their heads away, only to find themselves surrounded by the sound of our friends in the Golden Deer clapping and cheering us on. The other troops followed suit, until even those who'd turned away reluctantly began to clap as well, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder against those who loved us.
"Oh? And what's so funny, my friend?" I asked with a smile as you touched your forehead to mine.
"Noth—nothing," you said, your eyes closing in joy. "I'm—I'm so happy…" And you kept laughing.
I cupped your face in my hand as I listened to that beautiful sound.
Epilogue - Byleth
In just the past year, you'd made memories that you wouldn't trade for anything.
Just after Claude's return, you shared a private exchange of vows as he slid a ring onto your finger in the Goddess Tower. He blinked away a single tear, only to jump away in surprise as you'd leaned in with fascination. You'd never seen him come close to crying—you'd thought that that ability had been lost to him since the cruelty of his childhood. And you touched your hand to his face as you realized that the tear you'd seen was from just how happy he was.
Then there was the public ceremony you held, which the Gonerils graciously allowed to take place on a flower-covered mountain by Fódlan's Locket, at Hilda's—and by extension, Holst's—behest. Before you or Claude could even ask, the former Golden Deer volunteered themselves to help with everything. Hilda planned out your suit with more enthusiasm than you'd ever seen from her, and Lorenz oversaw the porcelain that would be used for the food. Said food was "organized" by an undiscerning Raphael, who approved just about every kind of dish imaginable to be included. His decisions were greatly trimmed down by an ever-pragmatic Leonie, who was overseeing the budget...and the liquor. At no one's insistence except Lysithea's, a grand cake was commissioned, and Marianne assisted in picking out the bouquets and fabrics that would be placed around the tables. Ignatz coordinated all the color schemes, making sure each element went together, and helped Hilda decide what hues to use in her own work. And when she was hopelessly stumped on what to do for Claude's Almyran outfit, Cyril even put down his gardening shears with a sigh and agreed to help her.
When the awaited day came, you stood in a black suit with green highlights and a pair of emerald earrings, swallowing as you saw Claude step forward. His brilliant white robes were wrapped in gold sashes, gilded jewelry hanging from his forehead, arms, and waist. "You remembered my favorite color," he said when he drew near, holding up a white flower that he tucked behind your ear with a wink.
You would always remember the way that he beamed when he saw everyone from the Golden Deer laughing and dancing with his friends from Almyra, knowing just how long and hard he'd fought to see a world where this was possible. When his friends from both nations latched onto his arms and dragged him over to dance with them, knowing fully what he was, you held back happy tears of your own.
You remembered the now-familiar sight of mountains passing below you from Tara's back, as you and Claude traveled between your home in Garreg Mach and your home in Almyra's capital, and sometimes to see lands beyond either. Wherever you went, sometimes people would still frown at you if you didn't respond the way they wanted you to—and Claude would place his hand on the back of your head and laugh brightly at the things you said, as if you were the most charming and interesting person in the room, and that'd make the others act a bit nicer. At other times, when he had less patience, he'd make a few passive-aggressive remarks that would often fly over the other person's head. Though you never encouraged such behavior, sometimes you couldn't help but snort at some of the things he'd say, only making the other person more confused. "Since when could you laugh so cruelly? Since when could you be so bad?" he would tease facetiously, pulling your face towards his as soon as you found some privacy.
Sometimes, people who remembered how things used to be would remark on his two bloodlines, and the shameful weakness of his heart that allowed him to walk hand-in-hand with you—but a simple glance and the placement of your hand on your sword's pommel would be enough to silence them. He didn't like it when you did that—said it was bad to discourage discourse—and so you settled for placing your arm around his shoulders, leading him away from those kinds of people. You'd even indulge in some deadpan remarks here or there, and he'd duck his head down towards his crossed arms as he'd start cracking up. But as time went on, those moments grew fewer and fewer, until you seriously began considering that you might never experience such a moment again. There was no such thing as a perfect world, after all, but this was a free world, an open world. And it was getting better for people like you and him every day.
You remembered the way that his face lit up as you tried some of his favorite Almyran street foods, hot and fresh from the marketplace, or how he laughed when you tried something too spicy and began to calmly sweat from your forehead like a fountain, doing your best not to panic.
"This is my home, but...it's changed, somehow. It's like the flavors taste better, and the colors are more, well, colorful," he said at one point, looking around at the ornate buildings of the city center with awe. "There are all these little details I never got the chance to notice. Now that you're with me, I guess this is the first time I've ever felt safe while staying here…ah? Byleth?" You wrapped your arms around his head and began to hug him to your chest as tightly as you could. "Ack! I love you, too…!" You weren't expecting him to wheeze as he did, and you released him in alarm. "I've been told not to get a big head and all, but you don't need to actually compress my skull," he remarked as he cracked his jaw. He just smiled at you as you apologized profusely, before asking him if it was normal for love to manifest as an urge to embrace people with violent force. "Do I look like the kind of person who knows or cares what normal is?" he said affectionately, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the next food vendor.
Once while staying at Garreg Mach, you and Claude exchanged dismayed looks as Flayn, visiting your room to borrow a book on fishing, found a small vial of oil hidden behind the volumes on your shelf. She asked innocently what the bottle was for, and Seteth loomed over her shoulder, looking about ready to throttle the both of you. "It's poison," you blurted out without thinking, as Claude stumbled over himself at your gaffe. Seteth's scowl only deepened as he interrogated you as to why you possessed such an insidious thing, and Claude stepped in, explaining that the "poison" was really just a weedkiller you'd been working on—a poison for plants—and that you'd misspoken. "I'm sorry," you said after Flayn and Seteth left, face burning red while Claude snickered uncontrollably into the crook of your neck.
There was the heated argument you broke into when he wanted to name your kitten "Kai" and when you wanted to name her "Meow-meow". He'd raised his voice, saying, "I swear to our fucking god of fortune and back, we are not naming her that." You'd tried to shout in retaliation when you realized that shouting in an argument was very different from shouting in battle, and that you didn't really know how to do it. Your voice cracked terribly, and he froze before bursting into laughter as he pulled your forehead against his. "Fine, fine. You win," he'd said then, though he'd groan and shake his head every time you called Meow-meow by her name thereafter.
There was his alarm when, as you stroked your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp, you found a tiny spot where no hair was growing. After you calmed him down by assuring that it wasn't from going bald, he mulled it over and realized it must have been a scar he'd gotten from when he was a kid. He relayed the story to you vividly, about how he tried to do a backflip for the first time and hit his head on a rock—and instead of treating the cut, he immediately tried again...to the exact same result. After smiling at that image, you asked why he'd never known about the scar until now, and he mused that he was never informed about it, because no one had cared enough to notice before. At that, you wrapped him fiercely in your arms, saying "I love you. I love you. I love you," and he laughed with closed eyes as his cheek was squished to your lips again and again.
Sometimes, as you slept, you saw Dimitri's back as he left Gronder Field to pursue the Empire, or Edelgard's sorrow as she begged you to cut her down, or Rhea bleeding, falling from the sky, or your father closing his eyes for the last time in your arms—and you heard Sothis's silence ringing through it all. "Wake up, Byleth," Claude would say, his arms stilling your movements as your body tried to fight, gently pulling you away from that world that you'd once lived in. "It's okay. I promise you it's okay. It's all over."
You'd clumsily tried to tease him, once, asking why he still called you his friend from time to time now that you were married. Without looking up from his book, he replied, "You're my shooting star, my blizzard, my flood—my rain, my forest, my ocean—my friend, my love—you're you—and yet, all those words will never be enough to describe what you are to me. So 'my friend' will still have to do, won't it?" He only glanced up from his reading to watch, with a hint of smugness, how much his words had made you blushingly speechless.
There was the sound of him biting your name into your shoulder, you breathing his into his neck, the feeling of his moonlit body trembling against yours each night—and then on especially late nights, the feeling of him collapsing into your arms and falling almost instantly asleep as the exhaustion from his daily duties and your nightly passions would catch up with him. You would brush the hair and sweat from his face in those moments, and clean both of you as well as you could before succumbing to your own tiredness—but sometimes you, too, would fall quickly asleep, leaving you both to awake the next morning feeling in dire need of a bath.
There was one morning when you awoke in surprise to the sound of broken dishes and his yelps and curses, only for him to sheepishly emerge with a tray of breakfast for you, covered in suds and dripping dishwater from his hair.
There were other disgruntled mornings when you would wake up to a head of matted hair as he drooled on you, and other mornings still when the first thing you would see would be his smiling eyes as he ran his hand through your hair, along your face and neck, playing with the whorls in your ear or poking at your freckles and birthmarks as he examined every part of you.
Sometimes your eyes would open to the pale blue of early dawn as he mumbled things in his sleep—sometimes happy things...sometimes sad. Sometimes he would mouth "Byleth" quietly, and every time, you would reply, "I'm here." You held your breath as he'd nuzzle into your chest at the sound of your voice.
There were other moments you could reminisce about, and still more that you had yet to experience, each one a precious discovery...each one a miracle.
And as you fell asleep each night beside him, these miracles dancing through your heart, you knew with certainty that you were excited. You knew with certainty that you were you. And you knew that you couldn't wait to see who you would become tomorrow.
Epilogue - Claude
"This isn't a decision to be made lightly," you said as I half-stood, leaning over to put the finishing touches on the small braid in your green hair. Giving up on the letter you were reading for now, you set it on the small table between us.
The library we were in was in Almyra, but there were plenty of people visiting from Fódlan, as well. At the moment, we were taking care not to speak too loudly, to keep from disturbing the others present.
"Since when have I ever made decisions lightly?" I said as I sat back in my chair. I dropped my fingers from your hair to stroke along your jaw, stopping at your chin. We were technically arguing, but no one would have been able to guess that if they looked at us now. "I've had plenty of time to think about it, okay? There's no way I'm going to leave you all by your lonesome."
You took my hand away in your own, bringing it down to the table. Your eyes were downcast, pushed down by worry. "But you shouldn't say yes for my sake. I want you to do what's best for you."
"Hey, you can't get rid of me that easily. Don't I get a say in this, too?" I said, lazily resting the side of my chin on the knuckles of my other hand. I smiled up at you ironically. Hadn't you said something similar to me before, once upon a time? "You never got to choose this for yourself. Meanwhile, I do get to choose, and it's a choice that most people would kill for. No one really thinks that getting to live for a long time is a bad thing. You do know that, right?"
You shook your head, saying, "But I don't know how much longer it will be. I'm similar to Rhea, but you're aware that I'm not quite the same. I have no idea what you'd be getting into."
"Couldn't the same be said about any decision, or any path in life? It's all a leap of faith, in a way. So, say we end up living for a thousand years. Ten thousand years, a hundred thousand years. Then so be it. Besides, can you imagine all the books I could read in that time? All the locations we could travel to?" I dropped my voice to a whisper, tracing my finger down the back of your hand, touching upon the ring that I'd given you a year ago. "...All the different places and ways we could fuck?" Your face had grown impressively red, but you looked as serious as ever.
Oh, well. Maybe an appeal to logic, then? Resuming my normal voice, I shrugged and added, "Think of it this way: if I die early and regret my decision, there'd be no going back. But if I live a long time and find I don't enjoy it, then that's not exactly a problem that can't be easily remedied."
"Don't say things like that," you said, looking stung. Ah—I should have chosen my words more carefully.
"Sorry," I said, gripping your hand tightly. "I'm just trying to lay out the worst-case scenarios, but you know there's no chance of that happening. I'll never regret being able to stay by your side. And I'll never get tired of being around you, if that's something you're worried about."
Your eyes turned downwards again, like you suddenly found the table very fascinating.
Oh. It was something you were worried about, wasn't it?
"Oh, Byleth," I said softly, taking your face in both of my hands. If we weren't in public, I'd have leapt across the table and kissed you right now.
"I...I know." You turned into my touch, pressing a kiss to the inside of my right hand. "I'd be so happy if we went through with it, but...can we hold off on that decision for a little longer?"
"Alright. But I'm not changing my mind."
Exhaling through your nose, you leaned forward to kiss my forehead before retrieving your letter from the cover of my book.
"Hilda actually had a lot to say this time," you said after your eyes finished scanning the rest of the paper. "She and Ignatz have started collaborating on a fashion line, and they've really gotten Marianne out of her shell. She actually agreed to model for them, as well as—"
"Lorenz," I said.
"Yes."
"Let me guess. He placed himself in that position?"
"No, actually. They asked him. That's really sweet, I think." You smiled down at the letter. I could tell that you were wondering how everyone else was doing.
"I know," I said. "We should stop by Fódlan soon. How about next month?"
"I'd like that," you said. "Although...that would mean that we'll be traveling for two months in a row. Will Meow-meow be okay without us for that long?"
"Ugh." I instinctively wrinkled my nose as you spoke her name. "Well, if Nader can handle a wyvern, then he can handle a little kitty cat. Cats are just tiny wyverns that can't fly, anyways."
"That's a terrible comparison."
"No it's not! They're both carnivores, they can have an attitude, their bodies come fully weaponized..." I listed off on my fingers. As I noticed you staring at me with a grin, I shook my head. "But, um...let's go back on-topic. How does Albinea sound for this month?"
"Why do you want to go there so much? You hate the cold," you pointed out.
"What, do I have to spell it out for you?"
Your lowered brow indicated that, yes, I had to.
With a sigh, I took on a melodramatic tone of voice, gesturing grandly. "I want you to protect me from the chill. I want you to bundle me up in your strong arms and whisk me up a snowy mountain, where we can watch the forest berries and ivy defrost under the glow of the sunrise."
"Sounds difficult. Why can't Tara carry you up instead?"
"Don't be so cruel, Teach! Can't you indulge my fantasies at least a little?"
Ah-ha, was that a bit of a glower I saw on your face? You were blushing once more, but this time you looked about ready to faze through your chair and out of existence.
"You know I don't like that anymore," you muttered.
"Why? Did I say something wrong, Teach? Feeling awkward now, Teach?" I said, leaning towards your face with more taunts ready on my tongue. Your hand darted out to grab my chin, but I jumped back, just out of your reach. "If you want me to shut up so badly, you'll have to try a little harder than that." Snatching the letter from your hand, I danced out of my chair and away towards the bookshelves as you pushed off from the table.
"You want me to shut you up?" you said as you tried to swipe for the letter, fingers just falling short as I raised it above my head.
I smiled at you as I backed away. "I want you to chase me."
I moved past the ladders and sunbeams from the windows on the high ceiling, weaving through the forest of bookshelves until you fell out of sight.
The others in the library had taken notice of us and began whispering in confusion.
"What are those jerks doing?"
"Wait. Is that—is that the former ruler of Fódlan?"
"Is that the former king of Almyra?"
"In our public library?"
"Please, I'm begging you, just let me study in peace!"
Whoops. We'd forgotten our inside voices, hadn't we?
For a second, I felt your arm snake around my waist as you came up from behind me, spinning me around almost as if we were waltzing.
Just when I got to thinking that you were the most romantic goon I'd ever met, you released me. Tottering off-balance, I hopped on one foot as I heard the rustle of paper being dangled above me. I didn't have to look up to know what that was.
"Come on. We'd better leave these poor people alone," you said as you folded up the letter and tucked it away, sounding awfully casual for someone who was rushing past me towards the exit.
"Funny. I was about to say the same thing," I said as I started racing after you, dodging around chairs and vaulting over tables, to the chagrin of many.
I pounced as you stalled in front of the doors, my arms crashing around your neck and shoulders as I grabbed you. You stumbled forward before turning into my hold with a knowing smile, kissing me as you leaned your shoulder against the door panel.
If I'd told myself one year ago that this was what I had to look forward to, I wouldn't have dared to believe it. But now, I believed it as much as I believed in you. Now, with my every breath, I knew you had me, and I had you. Now, and always.
Bursting from the library's double doors hand-in-hand, we ran through the warmth of the morning sun, flying into the dawn on the sound of each other's laughter.
Author's note:
Yeah, lemme just...frontload this story with angst and then...backload it with fluff. That's...that's how tone works, right? Hah, I didn't quite want to go all Lord of the Rings and drag out the ending past its welcome, but I couldn't bring myself to cut out the fluff. The boys deserve it.
Now that the fic's done, I'm so happy and thankful for all who've read and stuck with it 'til the end. I've loved writing this story and sharing it with you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
