Greetings everyone and happy Chinese New Year! Well, a day after Chinese New Year, but the sentiment's still there. Anyway, we've got another oneshot here for you to enjoy and it plays off a headcanon I've heard of that I quite enjoyed. Somebody noticed that, save for Claude, everyone in the Golden deer seems to be wearing the same colour as their hair colour, with Lysithea sticking out because of her purple. What could that possibly mean in this? Who knows. Anyway, let's go!
Summary: After five years of war and conflict ruin the continent of Fodlan, the Church's last bastion of hope awakens once more. Returning to Garreg Mach, Byleth is forced to face the changes that occurred in his absence.
"Do you like it, Professor? I understand it can be quite debilitating to see me out of my Academy uniform but… well, it doesn't exactly fit me after five years."
Byleth remained silent, unable to believe his eyes. In the heat of battle, it was easy to forget what he had been told, but now the evidence was standing before him with a relieved smile upon her face. Five years truly had passed in the blink of an eye, five years that had completely transformed the world around him.
What had once been a beautiful cathedral now sat in ruins, hastily made patches and scaffolding trying its best to keep the ancient building together. Everywhere, rubble now decorated the grounds and it had become a common chore to help remove it. Garreg Mach had been devastated by what the years had brought and from what little Byleth had overheard during his small stroll, the rest of Fodlan fared no better.
But none of that mattered at the moment, not to Byleth. No, the only thing that mattered was that his students had become fully grown adults. Their school lives had been cut short torn asunder by the war that had thrown the continent into chaos. Training that should've only been used in dire situations had become a daily necessity and whether it was known to them or not, the effects showed in how the students held themselves.
Byleth had planned to plunge his students into the deep end. He had forced them to take lives, placed them in dangerous situations and refused to assist unless their lives were in truly grave danger. This kind of combat, however? They were never meant to witness it, let alone participate so frequently in it. Even the mercenaries hadn't faced war-scale battles.
Oh gods, what had happened to the mercenaries!? They had joined Garreg Mach's barracks to assist, but Byleth had yet to see them anywhere. Once Jeralt had… passed away, they had pushed Byleth into leading them; how had they fared with him gone? They were formidable opponents, but not invincible. With their two strongest warriors lost, who knew what kind of deaths the mercenaries could have met?
"Professor? Professor, look at me." It was only Lysithea's hands suddenly latching onto his shoulders that caused Byleth to realise he was hyperventilating. Had he ever been in such a state before? No, this was unfamiliar, confusedly unfamiliar. His heart felt like it was going to force itself out of Byleth's chest. The pain was almost as bad as the sudden spike that had appeared with Jeralt's death. "Breathe Professor. Try and copy me. Slowly…"
"…My apologies." The Professor eventually muttered after five minutes of the exercise, the Professor having been slowly dragged forward until he could finally collapse onto a nearby bench. If Lysithea stared hard, she could just about make out the most subtle hints of confusion breaking through Byleth's stony visage. "You look different. Taller. Brighter. You'll be easily seen in those colours like that."
Indeed, the academy uniform that Byleth had gotten so accustomed to seeing was now nowhere to be found, replaced a long-sleeved dress of lilac, gold, white and black. It wasn't as if the clothes didn't suit Lysithea – far from it, she looked quite comfortable in her attire – but after having seen a countless number of people all clad in similar clothing, it was rather strange to see his students wearing whatever they liked. Usually, non-uniform clothing was restricted to weekends and events and even then, many simply preferred to continue wearing the uniform.
"I like it. Besides, it may be bright, but I'm strong enough to make it less of a problem." Lysithea softly answered, a teasing smile on her face as lightly punched her professor. She could handle some unintentional teasing from Byleth if it meant that he was calmer. "Don't worry. Even if we look different, we're still the same people inside. As soon as clean up duty's complete, Garreg Mach will be back to normal as well."
Yes, that was correct; everything could return to normal. If everyone was safe, then there was nothing to be cautious about. Byleth let out a small sigh of relief as the pain of his heart calmed. Had that happened on the battlefield, he would be dead; he couldn't allow such an unsightly event to occur again.
"Of course. I shall meet with Seteth and see where I can assist." Byleth promptly answered, only to find Lysithea pushing down on his shoulders with a firm pout upon her face. It seemed that for all her talk of becoming stronger, Lysithea's physical ability had grown little; Byleth could still just as easily stand. Still, with a face like that, Byleth wouldn't be so cruel as to do so. "Is there an issue?"
"Professor you just basically had a small panic attack, after you've been who knows where for five years in a coma. You don't need to get back into work, you need to rest!" the white-haired girl quickly answered, firmly planting herself beside the man and folding her arms. "A lot of stuff has happened. Anyone would be debilitated if they saw everyone around them suddenly way older than they were before. Just take a break and relax."
That was easier said than done. Byleth was a man who lived and breathed action and becoming a professor had done little to curb that. Surely it would be better to be of use to the monastery than to do absolutely nothing? Byleth had already done that for five years, as much as the rational part of his mind didn't want to accept it.
"Here." The denial Byleth was going to give however was quickly silenced when he found Lysithea's weight planted firmly upon his lap, met by a waterfall of white hair flowing before him. His confusion must've made itself obvious in the way Byleth tensed up, Lysithea turning back slightly to give a reassuring smile. "You clearly want to leave, so I'm giving you something to do. My hair has been kind of a mess with everything that's been going on – please fix it for me, Professor."
This… was not behaviour Byleth expected of his student, yet he went to work without a word. It wasn't a foreign activity to him after all, not with how often the female portion of the mercenaries went through the same issues. When he had been younger, unable to join in with the battles, it had been one of the few manners in which Byleth could feel useful. Perhaps that was why he didn't understand why giggles could be heard in the distance, the gossiping girls' whispers lost to the wind.
Almost as soon as Byleth began, Lysithea seemed to melt into Byleth's body with a relaxed sigh, one step away from falling asleep. Sure, Hilda and Marianne had done something similar before but there was something about the sheer dexterity of Byleth's fingers that send a shiver down the white-haired girl's spine. Okay, perhaps she was enjoying this just a little too much.
"…What is this veil?" Byleth's question quickly shook Lysithea back to reality. She had completely forgotten about it, so used to having the purple fabric in her hair that Lysithea barely even registered the minuscule weight.
"Oh, it was a memento from my parents, before I returned to Garreg Mach at Claude's request." Lysithea explained, carefully reaching up to remove it without displacing herself from Byleth's lap. "Do you remember when I told you about my past? When I told you about the burden that I must deal with?"
"Yes." How could he forget? It had been a vivid experience, horrors unthinkable spoken as if they were everyday occurrences. Lysithea had explained how it was the only way she could stave off the nightmares; if she didn't treat her past with indifference, then the only thing left would be a catatonic corpse. "Are you hiding something?"
"Very much the opposite. It helps me remember." Lysithea began, a bittersweet smile firmly in place as she absently stroked the veil. "Have you noticed something odd about the way the Golden Deer have dressed Professor? Something about the colours?"
Each of the students flashed by in Byleth's mind, brief interactions that had no less been equal parts confusing and reassuring. When you ignored the fact that they were suddenly far older than he had expected them to be, there hadn't been much to elicit concern from their appearance. Lorenz was dressed as elegantly as one would expect, Hilda revealed far too much skin to be appropriate and Leonie looked every part the hunter when you ignored how bright the orange she wore was.
Hang on a minute…
"Lorenz – violet. Raphael – yellow. Ignatz – green. Marianne – blue…" Byleth muttered, a small frown coming to his face as the realisation slowly settled in. he couldn't quite believe what he was going to say, but all the evidence pointed towards a single conclusion. "You all dressed in the same colour as your hair? Is that meant to serve a tactical purpose?"
"Well, more of a pragmatic one. With you lost and Lady Rhea taken away by the Empire, the people of Garreg Mach needed somebody to turn to and Seteth was getting overwhelmed on his own." answered Lysithea. "The bright colour scheme was Claude's idea; he figured if the people could see your students fighting to defend Garreg Mach, morale would be kept up. Do all we can to stand out and stand up to the Empire; even if they attack, Garreg Mach will not be defeated so easily. Of course, Claude has to wear yellow because of his position as the Leicester Alliance's leader, but the colour suits him at least."
It was a… novel concept, but one that Byleth could easily imagine Claude perpetrating. It had probably started as some sort of stupid joke that turned into a surprisingly beneficial plan. Even now, the professor could see people looking to Lysithea's direction with looks of awe and hope to their eyes – strange as it was, one couldn't deny that it was working as intended. There was only one issue in that case.
"Then what of you? There is white but your main colour is purple. That doesn't make sense." Byleth pointed and the bittersweet smile only grew.
"My hair wasn't always white you know, Professor. Thanks to the experiments conducted on me, they permanently disfigured me, changed me into this ugly girl you see before you." Lysithea muttered, a hand reaching up to violently tug upon the white strands Byleth had so carefully neatened out. "Before my hair ended up like this, I used to have the same hair colour as my mother. A beautiful lilac colour just like this…"
Being so used to seeing the white-haired Lysithea, Byleth struggled to imagine her with any other hair colour. Even knowing that it wasn't her original hair colour did little to change that. looking at the veil in Lysithea's hands, however… yes, she wouldn't look bad at all. No, very much the opposite, the colour suited her well. Not so harsh as the purple Lorenz's hair was, but something softer, sweeter. That suited Lysithea to a tee.
"When I put the veil on and look into the mirror, I can pretend that my hair actually is that colour. I can pretend just for a moment that I was the innocent girl who shared her mother's hair colour. Not the girl who became unrecognisable at first." It came as a whisper, Lysithea carefully placing the veil back on as she leapt off Byleth's lap, quickly shaking her head of such thoughts. "Thanks for doing my hair professor. I need to get around to helping Marianne in the stables. Try not to push yourself too hard, okay?"
"Of course." Byleth barely had time to reply before Lysithea had run off, leaving the professor alone. At least, until another familiar voice called from the distance.
"Hey Teach! Or, maybe 'Teach' isn't exactly right considering the Officer's Academy has been suspended thanks to the war breaking out." Claude remarked as he approached, hands behind his head. For the supposed leader of an entire third of Fodlan, such a stance was disturbingly casual, yet perfectly suited for someone like Claude. "I saw Lysithea with you. Reacquainting quickly, I see."
"Indeed. She decided I needed to rest. She used unorthodox methods to do so." Byleth quickly answered, his eyes narrowing at the strangled chuckle that forced its way out of Claude's lips. "Is there an issue?"
"You say that as if half the monastery didn't already know. Word spreads just as fast as it did before; at least some things never change." The Golden Deer said, no longer even trying to hold back his laughter. "Imagine my surprise when I hear that you've got Lysithea sitting in your lap without complaint. You work fast, kind of jealous."
"And why would that be an issue?"
"…That's a joke right?" Claude asked but Byleth's face did not budge. The reaction only elicited further laughter from Claude, a moment required just to be able to speak again. "You really don't think there's anything strange about having a pretty girl sitting on your lap asking you to play with her hair? Maybe it would've been a little more innocent back when she was younger, but Lysithea's a full-grown adult now. I guess what I'm saying is, if you're gonna do things like that, at least keep it to the privacy of your own rooms."
"Lysithea? She is fifteen." Byleth pointed out in confusion. There would be none so foolish as to believe he would be doing anything inappropriate with an underage student? Well, any student hopefully, but certainly not one as young as Lysithea. Sure, the mercenaries could… think a little differently compared to some of the nobles that populated Garreg Mach, but they still had some level of self-respect.
"Don't forget the five years you've been sleeping. We're not talking about a fifteen-year-old anymore, we're talking about a pretty cute twenty-year-old whose been gathering the eyes of quite a few people." Claude answered, flinging an arm around the professor's shoulders and slowly walking him towards the dining hall. "You know how many admirers she's got tailing her? It only became worse after the Golden Deer got back together to help out Garreg Mach. Thing is, she's turned down everyone, every single man with the same reason."
"I still do not see how this concerns me Claude." Byleth muttered with folded arms.
Okay, so maybe he had forgotten that Lysithea was now twenty rather than fifteen. While the clothes and surroundings had changed, the way she acted was only a little different from how she usually conducted herself – straight to the point and persistent when she set her eyes on something. Perhaps there was a little more room for misinterpretation then. Regardless, she was still a student under Byleth's care, no matter what; so long as Garreg Mach still stood, then those who wished to have his guidance would have it. That meant he would treat them with all the respect expected of a student-teacher relationship.
"'I will either be with the man I desire or no man at all. Let me be clear; you are nothing compared to the man I desire.' That's what Lysithea told them. All of them." Claude explained, a devious smirk breaking out across his face as he pushed Byleth down onto a nearby bench, waving his hand to the chef and receiving a positive call in response. "Now think carefully about this: Lysithea spends five years declining tonnes of men saying she's waiting for the one she desires and then as soon as you appear again, she starts acting all cuddly and needy. You can be a little dense at times, but the clues should be obvious even to you, right?"
Well, when it was phrased like that, but… how could Lysithea consider Byleth a person to be admired, let alone a potential romantic partner? When he joined Garreg Mach, Byleth's only qualification had been his reputation as a fierce mercenary and his lessons probably hadn't done much to ameliorate that reputation. While that may have been good for establishing himself as an experienced instructor, it hardly portrayed Byleth as a good person, did it?
"I have much blood on my hands. I am not a man to win hearts." The professor explained, only just realising how hard he was gripping the table when the wood shattered beneath his fingers. He would have to source a replacement; it was the least he could do considering how much trouble the church was already going through.
"Don't we all, my friend, don't we all?" Claude mused before his face suddenly became far more serious, a strange visage for the Golden Deer to bear. It was only natural that Byleth takes his words seriously if Claude was willing to break his cheerful demeanour. "The difference is, you've done a lot to counteract that. No other professor interacts with their students as much as you did. Tea parties, birthday flowers, joining us for meals, even cooking for us. Do you think any of the others went to that extent?"
"…Yes?" it wasn't as if it was particularly difficult. Anyone could make a good cup of tea if they practised. Nothing said that professors had to eat separately from students. Byleth hadn't been doing anything that any of the other professors couldn't have done with equal ease.
"…You really are a weird one, aren't you Byleth Eisner?" was all Claude could respond with, giving a small wink to the young girl who passed them their plates and earning himself a blush from her. "Still, can't say I'm surprised. If there was anyone who was going to steal little old Lysithea's heart, it was never going to be anyone ordinary."
"I'm still not sure why you're so insistent. There is nothing between us."
"Sure. Just eat, my friend."
And for now, that is the end. Even if these oneshots are only loosely connected, I've been trying to keep my characterisation of Byleth temporally linear, if that makes sense. In this oneshot, I've tried to find the midpoint between the stoic, emotionless mercenary that first entered Garreg Mach and the emotionally developed Byleth in the later half of the war. Please, tell me if this is actually working. my mind might be a bit melted.
Super hero time! See you next time!
