Small Note About Changes: This is not the original version of the first chapter, there were some errors in the writing and just poor sentence structure that needed to be fixed. And there was an overwhelming pretentious tone to some of it. More importantly the revelations from the Ashen Wolves DLC and some of the interviews weren't revealed when I wrote this originally so I went back and made things fall more in line with canon, mostly name changes and small details that won't effect anything major down the line. Thanks.
Day 25, Ethereal Moon 1180Edelgard hated heights. It was the primary reason she had never followed in the footsteps of her childhood hero, Greta of Arianrhod, to become a Pegasus Knight. She kept close to the stone walls and held firmly to the handrail as she tried to focus on the questions nagging at her about this last minute request for a rendezvous.
Every so often she would lean out to chance a glance between the winding stairs to see if she spotted her suitor making their way up, but her bravery was short lived. It was best if she avoided reminding herself of how high up she was. She didn't even peek out the windows as she passed.
The ancient wooden steps creaked under boot as she stepped onto the stone landing jutting out of the wall. Her knuckles caught a chill from the a breeze and she froze, her grip on the candle she carried tightened so much that the light flickered and danced. Edelgard continued on, the handrail for this final set of steps was gone. Edelgard flattened her palm against the wall, turning her back slightly toward it.
The Tower of the Goddess was technically off limits to students of Garreg Mach, though Archbishop Rhea and the staff didn't seem particularly keen on enforcing that rule. Seteth was the only person on campus who cared about students sneaking up there. After all, it wasn't dangerous like the forest out past the chapel or filled with priceless relics or weapons like some of the storerooms.
Edelgard paused after stepping into the top floor of the tower, she had come armed only with a small knife. Hubert had insisted she take something heftier or just take him. Over the years, with all the assassination attempts, she had developed a knack for sniffing out danger.
This struck her as an honest attempt by another student to make a connection and her curiosity about who it could be wouldn't let her ignore it. She played the words of the letter over in her head one more time, trying to sift out a clue about the writer's identity.
Moonlight spilled through windows on adjacent walls of the tower painting the floor with overlapping patterns from the stained glass windows. The air was still with a kind of deafening loneliness. Though the combined light from her candle and the moon didn't reach every corner of the room, she somehow knew this had been a waste of time.
Before she could turn to leave a rock skipped across the floor and hit her boot. Her fingers grasped for the hilt of the dagger in a flash, drawing it up so that she was poised to strike.
"You once told me that you had shrugged off superstition." For some reason it took her a moment to recognize Dimitri's voice. In fact, she spotted him before she really knew it was him that had spoke. He stepped out of the darkness in the direction that the rock had come from with the shadow spilling over his form as if he were breaking through the surface of a thick, black liquid.
Edelgard tried to contain the shocked gasp, as she sheathed her dagger to clutch her chest. "Is this some kind of sick prank?" She asked
Dimitri chuckled, the right side of his face still draped in shadow. "What do you mean?"
"This?" Edelgard produced the letter from inside of her jacket, crinkling the edge in her grasp.
Dimitri's expression softened. "Who would joke about such a thing?" He asked.
Edelgard seemed to simmer, her hand shaking with the pater clutched tight. "You sought to mislead me then? This stuff about us meeting as children, about me teaching you to dance?"
"Surely you jest."
Edelgard stared blankly.
"When you were in the Kingdom." Dimitri pressed his hands to his chest as if to acknowledge himself. "I was—I gave you that dagger at your waist…"
Edelgard's gaze softened. "I had almost forgotten. Why did you not say anything?"
"I had thought knew and were just," he trailed off. "Never mind," Dimitri forced a small chuckle. "Maybe I was wrong to write that letter, but I meant every word of it. Perhaps I misjudged."
"A lot has happened in six years, there are parts of my life that seem almost as if I dreamed them and others I wish had been. I'm sorry," Edelgard said shaking her head.
Dimitri stepped toward her, stopping only a breath away. "I often thought of you after you left. The excitement of seeing you when I heard we would be attending the Officer's Academy together was almost too much to bear."
"But I'm the heir to the Empire and you're the next in line for the throne of Faerghus. Historically, we should be rivals. We've spent most of this school year as such." Edelgard said, but her voice shook and she could just tell Dimitri caught it.
"If we were but simple folk without the weight of crests and crowns what would you think if I came to you like this?" Dimitri asked.
"There's far reaching ramifications for what you're suggesting."
Dimitri cut her off. "If you listen close you can hear the music from the Grand Ball."
Edelgard could hear it, the subtle sounds of a distant orchestra.
"Could I just have this dance?" Dimitri asked.
"That depends, do you think you can do it without stepping all over my feet? You're a lot bigger now." Edelgard said, eyebrows raised.
In response, Dimitri gently took the candle and letter away from Edelgard setting them aside with the weight of the former holding down the latter. He laced his fingers through hers with one hand and cupped her hip with the other. When they were younger, she had spent hours a day instructing him and the feel of his hand against her waist and her chest to his had become familiar.
But something had changed. There was an intense heat between them. An electricity hummed in her stomach, not a full blast of lightning, but it was more like she had parried a bolt axe that had expended most of its charges.
The tension carried with it a hollow sort of pain, the kind that came from a lack of something. Her muscles were tense as they danced slow and out of step with the music. Dimitri seemed to regard her as some fragile object, his touch buffered by a tender carefulness. A world of difference separated them from the children they were back in Faerghus when they last danced. Torturous experiments and the loss of most of her family had changed Edelgard, surely things had changed Dimitri too.
Edelgard had never given much thought to what she wanted in another person romantically, but there was surely something of it in Dimitri. And the blue and gold of his dress uniform suited him. The heirs of Blaiddyd always possessed this stark regal look in old illustrations and he seemed to be the living embodiment of it.
The rhythmic flourishes of the song were so quiet from this far away that the grinding dust and grit between the soles of their shoes and the stone became part of the song. They continued to dance for what seemed like a hairs breadth in time and hours all at once.
Dimitri pressed two fingers into her palm twice. It was an old tell for a coming change—she hadn't taught him that. He extended his hand out, with hers still clasped tight leading her into a twirl and she followed, spinning away from him until their arms jerked them back together.
Edelgard stayed close to him now, her head resting on his chest. A kind of guilt washed over her with a surprising speed, but she found back any harsh reaction. "What you wrote in your letter…was all of that real?" She asked.
"Which part?"
"The only part that really would matter. The thing about waiting five years and the Millennium Festival."
Dimitri nodded. "Five years of correspondence. Five years hidden away from prying eyes and wagging tongues—we meet under the guise of diplomatic liaisons. Nothing has to change between the Kingdom and the Empire. But allow me to court you. Find out who I am now."
"I'm not some shrinking flower of a maiden from one of your books," she started.
Dimitri glanced to his side. "I've got the bruises to prove it."
"I mean: I've never seen the point in a slow courtship." Edelgard added.
His face moved closer to hers, his lips nearly touching her ear. "Then call it whatever you will, I want to devote myself to you for five years—the Empress of my heart."
She broke his grasp and stepped back to laugh. "I'm sorry, did you rehearse this?" Edelgard asked, brushing her platinum blonde hair away from her eyes.
Dimitri's cheeks caught fire. "The Professor coached me, though I think she was asking her mother for help some of the time. I think this was a bit of a new experience for her. I should have probably have asked Sylvain or Claude—"
Edelgard pushed up onto the tips of her toes, tugged Dimitri down by his stiffened collar and pressed her lips to his. Her tongue bargained its way into his mouth soon after. His hands were frozen in the air off to the sides of his face where they had been when he was caught off guard by her kiss.
He bought his hands around to her waist, resting them on her hips. When they parted she combed the hair away from her face and licked her lips.
"Is that a yes?" Dimitri said, clearly fighting to regain his composure.
She kissed him again. "It's a we'll see."
The swelling music, the dancing, and all of the students clamoring around her—it was a burden of attention that she had tried to avoid for most of her life at the Monastery. She had grown comfortable of living in her parents' shadow. Being the daughter of the Captain of the Knights of Seiros and one of the most prominent nuns within the Church and the granddaughter of the Archbishop will do that.
Byleth once thought it lucky that anyone paid her attention. All of that changed nine months ago when the instructor who was to be the head of the Black Eagle House was killed by bandits. Gran, who now insisted that she be referred to as the Archbishop Rhea, made the impromptu decision to bestow the professorship to her.
Byleth was happy to show her devotion to the Goddess by swinging a sword. It was second nature by now. She had even developed the kind of reputation that came with a nickname. The Ashen Demon they called her—Mother hated it.
But Byleth the Ashen Demon could galavant around town when she pleased. She could have her pick of farmer's daughters or flirt with the sweet tan skinned girl in the market. She could bet on herself in horse races and use the winnings to fill up every cup in the tavern.
Professor Byleth couldn't do those things. Her time was too occupied to accompany the knights on their missions. And there was surely no more waking up hung over in the green house wrapped around some dark haired, freckled farm girl. She couldn't exactly refuse her Gran or the Archbishop, which ever.
At the start of all of it she didn't know how she would spend most of her next year watching over a gaggle of spoiled Adrestian nobles. Now that their graduation was near she knew she'd miss them.
Byleth strolled under the darkened breezeways that connected the courtyard to the mess hall. From this angle the moon was partially obscured by the silhouette of the Goddess Tower. When she left the dance she hadn't seen Dimitri or Edelgard anywhere, she wondered if he had taken her advice to heart. Both he and Edelgard needed to lighten up for sure.
"Even when you were little you would come to this very spot to think," came a sing-songs voice that Byleth would recognize anywhere.
She whirled around to look into her mother's large green eyes. Her mother and grandmother looked more like they could have been sisters. They had the same long green hair and the same effortless beauty, but any confusion about who it was could be shattered by the way they carried themselves. Her mother lacked the overwhelming aura of confidence that Rhea exuded.
"How do you know I'm thinking?" Byleth asked. They were near the small courtyard area where a cluster of tables and chairs would, during the day, have usually been filled with chattering students. Most everyone was at the ball now. Byleth slipped into a chair and waited for her mother to do the same.
"I can always tell when you're troubled, little one," her mother said with a smile in her voice as she reached up ran her fingers through Byleth's hair.
"Mom!"
"Sorry. Sorry, that I embarrass Garreg Mach's star Professor," she said.
Byleth shrugged her Mom's hand off. "That's not any better" Byleth said.
"It's the truth, everyone back there wanted to dance with you. One young lady in particular was fawning over you," her mother said with a tilt of her head that insinuated that Byleth knew it exactly who she was speaking of.
Byleth's face reddened. "You only like her because she's basically a younger you…"
"What's wrong with that?" Her mother said reaching out to straighten the shawl on Byleth's shoulders.
"It's just—it's nothing. Mercedes is fantastic. I just think she has, you know, church priorities." Byleth said.
Her mother leaned out to look her in the eye, face practically glowing. She got this glow about her when thinking about one person in particular. "You don't think Captain Jeralt, the Blade Breaker, Captain of the bravest knights in the land and hero of story and song came with some priorities?"
As she announced the various titles that Father had been gifted over the years she straightened her back and puffed out her chest as if to imitate the stature of some great hero. Byleth couldn't help but giggle.
"I'm going to tell him you did that," she said.
"Your father knows how everyone talks about him, but where is he right now? He's on a mission. He was always running here and there when you were little and even before that. I understood. He was always there when we needed him and we figured things out. That's what you and Mercedes have to do."
"She's a student. It's wrong," said Byleth.
"She graduates in a few weeks. I've watched that girl pine after you all year round. She switched to your class just to be nearer to you. And that little stunt where she came to class and conveniently forget her uniform top, I don't believe for a second that was a mistake. If you like her too what's the matter? The Goddess wants her children to be happy. You deserve it and from what I hear about her family, she's earned all of the affection that she can get," her mother said.
Byleth flopped over onto her mother's lap and said through a yawn. "You think just because you're the Archbishop's daughter you can speak for the Goddess now?"
Her mother got very still. "There have been times in my life when I felt as though—no, I knew that the Goddess Sothis was speaking through me."
Byleth laughed. "I love you, Mom."
"I love you too."
The stillness of the night and the strong drink she'd had caused her to drift to sleep in her mother's lap. A future with Mercedes or anyone else seemed like an abstract, nebulous thing that might not come to pass. So much could change between now and whenever and who knew what might become of her and the people in her life.
Even then, she knew her future would involve Garreg Mach. No matter where she went this would always be home.