So this chapter, like my other story 'Bruises and Kisses', was something my brain insisted on.
Any chapter after this is something that I had to actually think about and put together because my brain is a douche and forced this in my mind and then basically went "That's it. I don't care about anything after that." Still, I hope you all enjoy.
-DarkDevilsAdvocate
Fhirdiad was always a little cool with the northern winds but the city was even colder during the winter month of the Guardian Moon; especially during the nights. The season had spilled thick snow haphazardly across on the roofs and ramparts of the city, piling up against buildings and encouraging people to stay indoors. The stone of the kingdom castle carried a chill readily but Byleth remained warm in bed, snuggled up against her husband under several fur-lined blankets. They were just enjoying the few moments they had with each other when they weren't busy between her duties as the Archbishop and his as the King of a unified country.
"The anniversary of Jeralt's death is coming up." Dimitri brought up in a somber tone, his hand running up and down Byleth's upper arm as they huddled against each other against the cold; each enjoying the warmth the other provided. "Are you going to return to the monestary?"
Byleth sighed and turned in Dimitri's arms until she was resting half on his chest, looking up at his face though she could hardly make it's outline in the dark. It was an old hurt but Dimitri was careful when it came to Byleth's wounds, both physical and emotional and she loved him for it. She gave him a gentle kiss to his bare chest before answering.
"I was thinking about it. I have been trying to visit his grave every year... I doubt you would want to come with me?"
"I could if I rearrange some things. I should be able to get a few days off."
"Good. I'm expecting you to use your great manly charm to keep me from becoming too depressed." Byleth's tone took on a teasing lilt as she smiled and leaned up to kiss him, laughing when Dimitri twisted so that he could flip her onto the bed, holding himself over her with a chuckle of his own.
"I think I can may-."
"Dimitri?" Byleth asked when Dimitri cut himself off as an odd surprised look came over his face. He coughed and she felt something warm and wet splatter across her face.
"By...leth..." He ground out before collapsing on her, pinning her with his greater weight. Byleth's arms automatically went around him and she felt something sticking out of his back, cutting the tip of her finger on a sharpened edge. Her breath came quickly and if her heart could beat she knew that it would be going a mile a minute; pounding against her ribs painfully.
"Damn. Missed." A menacing voice came out of the dark and she felt a presence approaching.
No, This isn't right. This can't be. An assassin? Why? No. No. That meant that Dimitri was... That he was...
"No. No no no no no! NO!" Power pulsed through Byleth and she felt the jerk of time changing around her. Everything reasserted itself to a minute earlier with Byleth half-laying on her living husband again.
"I could if I rearrange some things. I should be able to get a few days off."
"Someone's in the room." She hissed and Dimitri quickly moved to grab his lance, Areadbhar, that he kept nearby the bed just as she kept her sword on the other side. They both agreed that they wanted to be close to their weapons; just in case. He hadn't even hesitated at her words, he trusted her so. It was one of the reasons she loved him.
She heard the quiet sound of steel sliding through skin, chipping bone, and she watched in horror as the shadowed form that was Dimitri fall limp.
"Naughty, Naughty." The assassin's voice echoed in the dark. She could hear his mocking voice, feel him getting closer, knew that she was going to be next but she couldn't care. She was grabbing at Dimitri's body that was slowly sliding off the bed under it's own weight.
"No! No! NO!" Power coursed through her veins and again she felt the jerking motion of time rewinding.
"I could if I rearrange some things. I should be able to get a few days off."
Byleth glanced around before she rolled out of Dimitri's grasp and reached for her Sword of the Creator, ignoring the confused sound Dimitri made at her movements. She felt the slice of steel as the assassin's weapon dug into her shoulder but she ignored the feel of it as she twisted to slice out at the unknown man, forcing him back. Byleth's wound wept freely when he pulled his weapon from her as he dodged her attack. Her husband must have seen something she couldn't because she heard him shout her name and then he was in front of her, the assassin's weapon digging into his unprotected chest.
Again she rewound time. Again she tried a different method to fight of the assassin. Again Dimitri took the hit. Again, again, again.
Each time Dimitri died in her place. Each time she turned back time. Each time she tried to stop the death of her love.
She recalled Sothis gently telling her that some deaths were just meant to be after Jeralt's passing but Byleth wouldn't allow that to happen. She couldn't let that happen.
So she rewound time again and again.
"I could if I rearrange some things. I should be able to get-." Byleth didn't even let him finish as she leapt desperately for her sword, unleashing it's power in a flash of crimson, and swung wildly. Her sword, as a whip, lashed out into the darkness. She heard Dimitri's cry of surprise at her sudden movements but knew that he would remain put as she thrashed about, listening to the sound of her whip-blade sparking against stone walls, splintering the wood of the wardrobe, ripping the paintings, shattering of a vase. Byleth was destroying their room but she didn't care. She heard someone outside the room shout something, she must have been making alot of noise for so late at night, and the door opened to the sound of that same person yelping as they dodged her wild swings.
After the muscles in her arm burned from the constant movement and her breathing was harsh, like she had run for miles, she slowed to a stop. She must have been a sight; sword in hand as she stared wildly into the dark that was only pierced by the flickering candlelight from the hall. Someone, Dedue she belatedly realized, entered the room now that the danger of being a victim to her sword had ended and he moved quickly to the bed to see if his King was still alright and alive. Byleth ignored their conversation, trusting in herself not to hit her beloved husband, and saw the motionless body of the assassin on the floor; a puddle of blood quickly growing under him.
"Byleth?" She heard someone call as she crossed the room to the supposedly dead body. Sorrow and despair from her constant failures to save Dimitri's life welled up, transformed into unrelenting rage, and she stabbed down at the body. Again and again. She screamed in frustrated fury so she wouldn't drown in the emotion within her, only stopping when Dimitri came to her; pulling her into his arms as he breathed soothing words to her while rubbing her back and petting her hair.
Byleth's rapid panting slowly turned to sobs as the many varied deaths she witnessed of her husband returned. She dropped her sword in a clatter and clung to him as she released all of her misery in a flood of tears.
He was here. He was alive. She had done it. She had saved him.
A flash of purple light appeared out of the corner of her eye and she heard both Dimitri and Dedue shout something but she was focused on was the words of the stranger that had appeared. They were quiet but somehow menacing.
"Disappointing."
"Byleth!" Dimitri screamed and he jerked her sideways, stepping into the spot where she had just been standing. She stared up at him as his eye looked down at her and his mouth moved as if he was saying something but no sound came out. A trickle of blood slipped from between his lips, dripping on her face and she watched in horror as the light of life fled his gaze. Why was the wet blood on her face so warm while Dimitri was growing so cold?
"Your Grace!" She heard Dedue shout but his voice sounded quiet and far away as she fell to her knees when Dimitri's dead weight dragged her down. She had thought she had no more tears to give, having cried herself empty earlier, but her vision blurred until she couldn't see Dimitri's paling face anymore.
Why? Why? She had killed the assassin! She had saved him! Why was Dimitri still dead?! Why?!
"No. No. No. NO. NO. NO! NO! NO! NO!"
Power pulsed through her, pushing outward in a violent wave. She could hear the two men still alive in the room say something but she couldn't understand them over the rushing roar of sound in her ears. Byleth could feel something different about this power as it swirled around her like storm and then her vision went dark.
"Hey! A-are you awake?"
Byleth came to on a riverbank, hair and clothes clinging to her skin in their wet state, and a stranger standing over her with a concerned expression. The man quickly moved to her side and helped her up when he noticed her trying to stand. Byleth took a few moments to gain her bearing; casting a quick glance around.
"Where am I?"
"We're in a village at the base of the monastery. What are you doing in a place like this? I honestly didn't expect to find someone floating away down the river..."
Something wasn't right. She was obviously no longer in the bedroom she shared with Dimitri in Fhirdiad and though this man was a stranger his words and face held a familiarity that Byleth couldn't quite place.
"Garreg Mach is upstream of here, but that place was abandoned." The man continued, oblivious to Byleth's confusion.
"What do you mean?" Garreg Mach? She couldn't have been that close. She had been in Faerghus for a while. Even if she had managed to push her abilities to their furthest and drained herself to the point of near death she would only have been able to go back a day, maybe two, not far enough to put her in a time near the monastery.
"You don't know? The Church of Seiros isn't there anymore." No. That couldn't be right. She was the Archbishop and, though the Church had changed under the reforms that she had implemented with the help of the others, it was still very much around. There was only one other explanation but there was no way she could be where and when she was beginning to think she was. "Though there have been some folks still living there in the five years since... Well, you know. Anyway, I've heard some thieves have been spotted around those parts these days."
Five years? It couldn't be that time. No, that was impossible. She didn't have the power to do something like this. She had just wanted to save Dimitri. There was no way she could have pushed herself back so far. Even if she could, there was no way she could do so after the many resets she had gone through previously, trying to keep Dimitri alive.
"What year is it?"
"Um, are you feeling all right? You didn't hit your head or anything, did you? It's the Ethereal Moon of the year 1185. It's been nearly five years since the moastery fell. Tomorrow was supposed to be the millennium festival, but who's got time to think about things like that?"
"The millennium festival..."
Byleth could feel the breath leave her like she had been struck hard as she tried to wrap her mind around what had happened. Somehow, in some impossible chance, she had forced herself back to after she had woken up in the midst of the war. It couldn't be possible but here she was. She had somehow turned back the hands of time several years. Garreg Mach would be in ruins and everyone would be at war.
"Uh, yeah, that's what I said. But with the war and the Archbishop still missing and all... I doubt there's a soul to be found who has enough blessings worth counting." The stranger man answered; oblivious to the fact that she was no longer listening. Byleth turned in the direction of the monastery. She already knew the way. She had been on this path before.
"Hey! Slow down, will ya? Where do you think you're going?"
"The monastery."
"Are you crazy?! I told ya! They say thieves are running amok up there, and there's plenty of other dangers too. I heard a rumor that Imperial troops went up there to investigate and got slaughtered. Every last one! Come on, I promise I won't say you're a coward. Just forget about going anywhere near the monastery." The villager exclaimed, trying to keep her from walking to what he thought was certain death. She knew that he was only worried about her, not knowing who she was, but she couldn't not go. Byleth shook her head. She knew she had to go. Otherwise everything would be lost. The future that was hers would be lost.
"You just remember I tried to stop you, got it? It's not on my conscience if you wind up dead!"
"No need to worry about me." She knew what she was going to find. She knew she would be able to take any bandits that came at her but she also knew that she wouldn't be fighting those bandits alone. Still she didn't relish what, or who rather, she was going to find. Byleth didn't want to see him like that again but knew that she would have to. She couldn't leave him to wallow in his own madness. She would save him.