Crimson Flower is both my least and most favorite route in Three Houses. I love it because I fell head over heels for Edelgard's dream. I hate it because it's probably the route in which the Lord and Byleth do the least amount of emotional growth. In Azure Moon, Dimitri's development is handled poorly, but at least we have a character arc. Byleth seems much more of an independent actor in Dimitri's own recovery and can choose to make that landing soft or hard. In Verdant Wind, Claude learns to believe in Byleth, and trades in his deceit for genuine idealism in a ham-fisted, if enjoyable way. Byleth grows into a role of not just parochial but political responsiblity as well.

In White Clouds, I'd argue that Edelgard's character arc is fully developed should you choose the Black Eagles. She takes a chance in opening herself up to Byleth. Byleth can choose to accept her and her dream or to reject her. Then, regardless of route, you see through Edelgard's dream to the end - as either her ally or her enemy. Sadly, you see more of this dream as her enemy, rather than her ally. Crimson Flower failed in a great many ways - and I don't blame it on production value or cutscenes.

In Silver Snow, you must bear the weight of both your own choices, and also Edelgard's, who you have chosen to fight against. In Crimson Flower, her Professor exists in a bubble, relegated to an object of desire. In this sense -it's certainly her route- but one has to wonder if Byleth has any meaningful agency in it. The unique relationship she has with her teacher in White Clouds seems to just melt into incomprehensible fluff and schoolgirl antics as she drags a continent into war.

It's just deeply unsatisfying to play through. Your reward is a Happy El, but at what cost?

This fic wants to re-imagine Crimson Flower from the ground up - from the outset of White Clouds. Edelgard's relationship with TWISTD will change as she welcomes Byleth into her heart. Core elements of the narrative will be maintained - if modified, such as the timeskip occurring slightly later to accommodate a narrative device. Byleth will be a shade darker, a bit more Ashen Demon instead of Ash Ketchum. The JP version gives Byleth dialogue options that make this a bit more of a convincing sell.

Ironically, my favorite relationship in Crimson Flower is Claude and Hilda's. Hilda unexpectedly dies for Claude's dream, when Claude never thought she would, nor wanted her to do so. I found myself staring at the screen for a long time at that moment after killing her, in shock that I couldn't just pick her up like Lyisthea. She matured in a great deal in five years - more than I could have possibly imagined. And that's worth exploring. So this will be a story about Claude and Hilda as well, in which their romance parallels Byleth and Edelgard's.

I hope you enjoy. Link me to your tumblr rants if I offend you. I'm always open to your thoughts.

Cheers

The wooden door towers before me, oblivious of the crown that rests upon my head. A simple sign hangs on that door, scribbled in Fodlan Cyrillic: "Eisner, B.". It is a dated name. The first action I took after the siege of Garegg Mach was to order a writ of nobility for that surname. I know he would have protested, but he cannot protest if he is not here. Come back to me and complain, my teacher.

Through the power of my supposedly sacred station - Emperor of the Adrestian Empire - his surname is now written "von Eisner". It's meant to be a shot across the bow, "von" Aegir "von" Hevring, and the rest of the nobility be damned. In those halcyon nights leading up to the siege of the Monastery, I dreamt that he would be the integral component of my first strike against those scions of privilege. What better way than to force his name on their lips, and the battle-born nobillary documents signed in quill pens held by their grubby, grumpy, grasping little fingers? And then to take that man, who I invested all my hopes and dreams and fears and… love into, and wield him against the church and those demons who slither in the dark? I could not wait.

Now I fear I may have to wait for the rest of my shortened life unless I actually find him myself.

At the foot of the door I see the remains of a broken clay watering pail. It must be his, as I knew he grew flowers to adorn his parents' grave. He told me that on a rainy day, just one month before we set the world on fire.

I had explicitly ordered that anyone looting the dormitories would be hung over the gates.

That includes breaking his watering pail.

And I'll see it done, too.

Because without him, it's just more blood to add to my feet now…

...

...But I cannot let myself be consumed by such thoughts, can I? Is that what he would have wanted? Of course not. I chastised him that day after Jeralt's death, saying that I never asked nonsensical questions. So what am I doing now, asking myself such things? See? I'm losing it without you, my teacher. The heart you promised to protect is fading, my Byleth...

My own fingers, scarred and numb and unfeeling as I thought they had become long ago, tremble like a fearful child's as they clutch the brass doorknob of his dorm. I turn it, take a deep breath and push-

But the door does not move. That door, blissfully ignorant like my Byleth, does not take into account station or birth, after all. I sigh. That night must have been the one time he bothered to lock the door to his room. I know he usually didn't bother to lock his own door because of creepy - totally unwarranted and unasked for - reports on his activities from you know whobert.

My chest heaves and my body instantly feels so heavy under this armored greatcoat that my aforementioned retainer insists I wear. I miss the academy uniform already. But it would be sinful to wear it. A sin against my humanity, most of all. But most of all, I miss…

I push those thoughts away. I cannot just travel away into the darkness of my mind just yet. I turn around.

"Linhardt, warp me inside." I command.

"Ugh."

Leaning on the railing next to me, the olive-haired heir to House Hevring returns my gaze blankly with sleepless, cerulean eyes. He hasn't shed the academy uniform yet, much to my chagrin. I may miss it, but we cannot hold onto that time or that uniform forever, can we? Or is that just what I'm trying to do now...

I think about how to proceed. As much as I want to ream him out at this present moment for his inaction - for disobeying his monarch, even - I know this has been eating at him too. We've had a... difference of opinion on this for most of the morning. And I know he feels that way on behalf of that person who is so precious to us both. So that is why I am not yelling or grabbing my axe or anything like that. If it were any other rationale I could not accept it - but this...

"Lindhardt, now is not the time to be wavering." I try with tact.

"Nothing's going to be in there, Edelgard. When I visited him last, his room was basically empty."

This always happens - whenever I learn about someone else sharing a moment with my teacher that I was unaware of, that fact strikes like a dagger into my heart. This can't be healthy. Why did he waste those precious moments on someone else? We had so few of them...

"You've been inside?!"

Obviously it was selfish, maybe even deluded, but I feel like I should've been the only other person he felt like he could let in his room. I didn't even allow Hubert in mine - it was my space - and the only other man that I had shared it with was Byleth. How could he just let Lindhardt waltz in to his?

Although after a moment's consideration, I suppose that is a foolish, possessive thought. What right did I have to make such a demand? That demon Kronya had made herself welcome in my room dozens of times. But she was the same gender. At least, I think so. You can't really tell with the Slitherers - they've thrown away too much of their humanity to saddle themselves with something so human as an identity. It occurs to me now - perhaps for the first time in an overtly conscious way, that Lindhardt is in fact a man. Was his presence so unassuming that I never once thought of it, or did his feminine features do that? Am I just losing my grip?

Better yet - am I just being a child about this? I can't stand it. My mind's a mess. My heart's a mess.

Only just managing to detach myself from my own little emotional tantrum, I belatedly notice Lindhardt recoiling at my snap question. He has the reflexes of a Duscur Sloth, so he does move in slow-motion, at least compared to someone like Caspar.

That said, it was clearly becoming visible that I was starting to lose myself - particularly if Lindhardt was acting in such a way. I couldn't allow that, much less to a vassal and… most importantly as Byleth reminded me, a trusted ally. I needed to protect them in the way that he protected us, at least for now. Until he came back to them. Until he came back to me. I reeled myself in and took a step back from the white mage of my Strike Force.

"If he's coming back, isn't it rude to go through his things? It's only been a month."

I see what Lin's doing there. He's trying to change the subject.

"You didn't answer my question, Lindhardt."

He rubs his eyelids in exhaustion.

"I… yes, I visited him on what is it now, the Seventh of Pegasus Moon? Before you left for the capital. He asked me to drop by."

He invited Lindhardt to his room the day before we left for my Coronation?

"For what reason?"

"The Professor… asked me to keep it confidence, Edelgard."

Is the big betrayal, finally, that I knew in my heart Byleth would inflict upon me? And he wrapped Lindhardt into it all, too?

"I-I'm your Emperor! There's no confidence in this matter!"

"Edelgard, you may be the Emperor, but he's our Professor, is he not?"

Now he's just gaslighting me.

"Lindhardt, I'm one second away from marching back to the throne room and fetching Hubert!"

"Please don't."

"I will!" I turned and made a step towards the small staircase that led down to the promenade, but I realized that my newly-minted Minister of the Imperial Household was already standing behind myself and Lindhart at the base of the steps.

"Your travel is not necessary, your Majesty, as I've been here the whole time."

I sometimes wonder how many moments of… myself and… no, it's best not to think of it.

"Hm… well, Hubert, I must insist that you insist that Lindhardt warp me into Byle- I mean the Professor's room!"

"I see no harm in calling him by his name in present company, Your Majesty. In fact, he insisted you call him that, after all. This of course neglects to mention that the dead have no need for titles."

Hubert has been trying to cut me to pieces this month with these little digs. I'm getting increasingly fed up with him too.

"He's not dead, Hubert! Enough of that!"

"Of course, your Majesty. Now, shall we return to your quest to rifle through a living man's personal belongings?"

"I… Hubert, Lindhardt... I wish to find him! My hope is that he left a note regarding his.. condition… in the dormitory… and that may be why our teams have not located his body."

"Lady Edelgard, even the mages of the slithering ones failed to find any trace of him..."

"Correct! So I will remind you that he cannot be dead, then."

"That is not the conclusion that I was trying to lead you to, Your Majesty. Eventually, we will need to wrap up this sordid affair and return to Enbarr. The Empire will not wait for one man. Especially not after our campaigns in recent months. There is a country to rebuild before we can take the offensive once again."

"Hubert, I would remind you that I am the Empire! He is essential to me.So, please instruct Lindhart to warp all of us into my teacher's room!"

"Now I have to use warp thrice? I can scarcely do that in a battle." Lindhardt sighed out.

"Lady Edelgard was not asking." Hubert replied with his small, deep irises boring into Lindhart.

"Fine."

Within a few moments, I was in my teacher's room along with Hubert and Linhardt thanks to the latter's warp magic. The former took the opportunity to light a candle with a fire spell to illuminate the room. Snapping his fingers on the candle wick, the room flickered in a warm glow.

That movement to light the candle reminded me of someone. As much as Hubert didn't like to admit it, he learned a great deal from Byleth, too. I had never seen him using elemental magic before we enrolled in the academy.

My teacher's room… The entire space was covered in a thick blanket of dust, but I suppose that's to be expected. No one has inhabited the space for nearly six months now. The archbishop rather surprisingly held up her end of the bargain, as we were able to nab Professor Manuela as a hostage on our initial retreat from the Holy Tomb. The so-called "immaculate one" was sentimental enough to trade preserving the dormitories of the Black Eagles for the safety of an aide who had served her loyally. We've currently got her under house arrest in Enbarr.

Getting into Byleth's room wasn't the key motivation in that hostage taking, I should say! In reality, I wished to rescue the Stuffed Bear that he gave me from my own quarters, which was sent over shortly after we made our hasty retreat from the so-called Holy Mausoleum that cold day half-a-year ago. Hubert thought it was a silly demand for such a high-value personage, but I do not regret it for a moment. I cuddle with it every night now and could not imagine these past weeks without it by my side. Even after all this time, it still smells like him - undoubtedly from that night he held me in his arms to ward off the nightmares.

...No, I haven't washed it yet.

As I gravitated towards his bed, I noticed Hubert wearing a frustrated look, and at last leaning up against the wooden door. Kicking up a great deal of dust, his movements prompted a sneeze from Lindhardt. After clearing his own throat, Hubert began:

"Prior to a thorough search, I would suggest we review why Count Hevring was so reluctant to describe why the Professor invited him here six moons ago."

"Well, I suppose it's pointless to hide now that we're already here." Lindhardt conceded through a cough.

"Oh, there'll be a point if I don't like the response. A point stuck directly into your throat." Hubert threatened.

"Hubert! Allow Lindhardt to speak."

"Of course, my Lady."

Linhardt took a moment to gather his thoughts.

"I… no, rather the professor… Was concerned about his personal effects. He specifically asked me to hold onto them in case anything happened to him on his trip with you during the Pegasus Moon."

"...In case anything happened?"

"Well, he made it sound like it was a dangerous mission or something. Had I known you were just going to crown yourself, I would've told him there was hardly anything to worry about."

Hubert exhaled an exasperated chuckle. Knowing all the plotting that precipitated such an event, I found Lindhardt's hand-waving of the affair equal parts amusing and disturbing myself. It's as if the past several months of the war mostly washed over Lindhardt. The only time I recall him taking the slightest interest in the conflict over the past half-year was when we encountered the library of my "uncle" in Arundel Castle.

"Hardly anything indeed!" the Count of Vestra exclaimed sarcastically.

"I see… he was worried?" I prodded further.

"I guess so. But the Professor was always worried about you."

"...Always…?" Keep it together, El.

"As I recall… he made it seem all serious and solemn. I believe he even tried to flatter me before doing his serious speech."

My sorrow and curiosity piqued with equal intensity.

"...What did he say to you, Linhardt?"

"Oh, well, to say it his cadence I suppose it was like: Linhardt, you are the most insightful and honest mind I know. I seek your counsel because you're my most trusted student."

Is everyone just trying to toy with my heart as of late?

"Lindhardt, really!"

"Ah… well, yes, I suppose that is too verbose for him. In reality, he simply said that there would be a fight he could not run from soon. And that he needed to protect you. And that if he died while protecting you, he wanted me to give you his diary."

Lin's words hit me like a ton of bricks. Because they weren't really Lin's words, were they? They were Byleth's. Feeling a wellspring of emotion rise up, I fell like a brick onto my teacher's bed, kicking up dust everywhere in the process, which in turn prompted a coughing and sneezing fit from Lindhardt. This cacophony of noise was scarcely enough to dislodge me from staring down the creeping spectre of my own internal torment.

"I-I'm allergic to dust, you know!" Lin shouted.

"A curious circumstance for someone who prefers to spend his few waking hours in libraries." Hubert quipped.

I raise a heavy hand towards Hubert. I needed silence. I then use that hand to wipe out any potential tears forming in my eyes, muddying my face from all the dust. It is better that way. They cannot see me cry, because the Edelgard who shed tears died a long time ago, didn't she? That would also be admitting that I really did lose Byleth, too. That I lost him to Rhea, the Knights, and Those Who Slither - all of my most hated enemies. That the year and a half of bliss in which he graced my life would be the last opportunity for me to find happiness again.

"Lin… do you have it?" I asked.

"Have what?"

"My Lady is asking for the diary of our Professor, Lindhardt."

"No! Of course not."

Even this provoked a crunch of Hubert's hairless brow.

"You don't...?" Hubert asked, stealing the words from my mouth.

"I told the professor that he shouldn't trust me with something so personal. I'm quite unreliable, after all. Even though he never thought so, I know myself better!"

I could see that Hubert, whose expression seemed to be draining of all suspicion, was beginning to find the whole affair very amusing. Speaking for myself, I was finding the whole process extremely heart-wrenching, worsened by the fact that I had to experience such emotions with these two... Where is my teacher at a time like this? I want him to hold me again and be all sensitive and vulnerable with me. That way, I can be sensitive and vulnerable with him, too.

That's why I will never give up on finding him. We had only such a short time we could be like that together. I cannot accept losing it now. Not after learning that I didn't have to thrust off the last of humanity in order to see this crown securely affixed to my head. Not after the campaign we fought to get me here.

"Lindhardt… what did he say after that?!" I snap, sounding like an emotional wreck. At the sound of my cracking voice, Hubert seems to snap out of his bemusement.

"Yeesh… there's no need to yell, Edelgard."

"Lindhart, you'll answer me, won't you?" I reply, softly.

"He said he'd keep it locked in his desk, and in the event of anything happening, that I should retrieve it and give it to you."

"This is a case of anything, isn't it?" Hubert quipped.

I swear to the nonexistent Goddess, Hubert.

My eyes glance over to his workspace by the door.

His desk?

The three of us make our way over to his work desk. It's bare, just like everything else in this room. But I notice a modification made on the desk that catches my eye. Generally, there are never any locks on the students' academy furniture - only the doors are allowed to have locks. It's been a policy of Rhea's for ages, I was told. I notice that the drawer on the right hand side does in fact have one.

"Could it possibly be in there?" I asked, pointing to the lock-drawer.

"I guess so, I never asked where he'd leave it." Lindhardt noted.

"Why not?!"

"Because I didn't think he'd die…?"

"Enough of that, he isn't dead!" I correct with a yelp.

"He most certainly is, Lady Edelgard." Hubert cuts in, of course.

"Hubert, Silence! Now - how can we access this drawer?"

"I cannot warp you inside." Linhardt replies, as if I had somehow asked for such a ridiculous thing.

"I would prefer to just open it, Lin."

"It appears to be a pendant lock, Your Majesty." Hubert states after a moment of close analysis.

"A what?"

"A Morfian pendant lock, to be more specific. The people of Morfis tend to prefer using pendants as keys, inserting it inside to release the mechanism, and using magic to turn the lock. Considering that most of that country is fluent in magistry in one manner or another, it makes sense. Perhaps our Professor has some familiarity with the country from his mercenary days."

I'm really not that fluent in magic. I have crests and can make use of that power, do some basic heal spells - but I can't just drop Hades at a whim like Hubert or Lysithea. How much finesse does it take to force open such a thing, I wonder?

"So.. we can open it with magic?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at each of the mages.

"And the appropriate pendant." Hubert added.

"And that is…?"

My majordomo seemed to ponder the matter for a moment. I am always impressed by that expression of his, as I've seen it so rarely before arriving at the academy. But my teacher always seemed to leave Hubert stumped - a rare state of mind for a master web-weaver. What did it feel like for him? A pointless question, as he'd never tell me.

"I haven't the slightest idea, Lady Edelgard. Perhaps a family heirloom?"

A pregnant pause follows. As Hubert and I stared past each other in deep consideration, Lindhardt reached for his neck.

"Maybe it's…"

My eyes widen. How could I have forgotten?

Had my heart grown cold so soon...?

"Ah, just as I thought - it's open."

Lindhardt pulls the desk drawer open, and shows off the pendant hanging around his neck.

The same Black Eagle pendant I had made for everyone to celebrate our victory in the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. That pendant left affixed to my old academy uniform and long forgotten in the chaos of the past few months.

My teacher…

"Our professor truly was full of surprises." Hubert noted with a hint of whimsy.

"Is, Hubert. I refuse to..."

"Edelgard, it's here."

I lunge toward the desk in a sudden explosion of energy. Lindhardt had already grabbed the book, but I snatched it out of his hand in a covetous fury.

"My teacher's diary... Lindhardt… thank you."

The three of us held a moment's pause, trading glances at each other.

"Well, should we take a look, your Majesty?" Hubert inquired. I could detect him attempting to hide his own curiosity.

I place the book on top of a nearby bureau near Hubert's lit candle. It occurs to me that Byleth probably kept his clothes in this dusty, very spartan piece of furniture. Under most circumstances, I would be extremely curious to see if he had left behind a wardrobe other than the black ensemble he usually wore… or at least possibly maybe steal a memento for myself... but I cannot be bothered with such thoughts at the moment. Not when the key to his salvation might be a page or two away.

I am possessed by my aching soul to take off my gloves before opening the book. I sense Lindhardt flinching at the glimpse of my scarred hands. I do not care. If Byleth touched this book with his bare hands, then I must as well. This is the final barrier between me and the last trace of a man who held my heart so gently. He did not handle my trauma with a glove when I bore it to him. As my bare fingers caress the leatherbound cover, I realize that I can now, at long last, finally inhabit the mind of that man who means everything to me.

I open the book. My eyes fall to the first entry.