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The horrifying destruction of Fort Merceus sent a lot of soldiers shaking in their boots. What exactly were they fighting that they had something so powerful? Was the Empire hiding such strength so that it could kill them all in one fell swoop? Byleth laid the fears to rest, "If that was something they could use freely, they would have used that a long time ago, back at Myrddin, Gronder, Garreg Mach! But no! Something destructive as that must require a lot of resources, so fret not! We survived them firing it at Merceus, we will survive it again!"
Everyone roared despite their trepidations.
"Listen to me. This is the last stretch of the war! We should not lose our spirit!"
"That was a good speech," congratulated Seteth as he awaited Byleth at the war tent. So far, most of the soldiers have been driven back up, thanks to not only Byleth, but the natural optimists as well. He'd seen Caspar's energetic cries for valor raise morale throughout camp. However, more important matters must be discussed. "I received word that we have reinforcements that arrived at Garreg Mach."
Byleth raised a brow. "How could that be?"
"Local men-at-arms dissatisfied at their lords, and there is a detachment from Gaspard."
That was surprising. "I thought they couldn't spare anymore men."
"Apparently," Seteth smirked. He couldn't believe he'd see the day that he'd report such cunning planning from the least expected person. "Your husband-to-be had been pulling strings. He setup an elaborate network of spies in Gaspard, as far as Gautier, and had secretly been rounding up rebels for you. Although, they would have eventually come at your doorstep one way or another, but Ubert definitely sped up the process."
Byleth's face reddened when she realized how much people have seen of her relationship; to think even Seteth thinks she and Ashe are lovers! Well, they've put up quite a show back in Myrddin; people would be too dumb to not notice. "He's not my husband-to-be." Yet.
Seteth raised a brow in concern. "Is that so? I was fairly certain that both you and him had come to a decision that you would get wed sometime after the war," causing the maiden before him to frantically wave her hands no.
"No! There's no such thing!" Yet. She hoped dearly that he'd get down on one knee and present her a ring.
"Is that so? Then I will refrain from referring to him as such in the future. Getting back on topic, we would have to go back to Garreg Mach to welcome these new men, supplies and intel. It seems Cornelia is stuck against the guerilla warfare in Faerghus. So we have time to spare."
"Very well."
"I presume you have experience with flight?" Seteth knows Byleth has; he had multiple training sessions with her. But he has never seen her take to the skies. Perhaps something akin to Vestra's fear of heights? "Flying on pegasi or wyverns would be the fastest way back and forth."
They do have to be back as soon as possible. "I'm a certified pegasus rider," although her pegasus was given to somebody else. They captured some wyverns from the Empire so those should do. "There is no other way. Let us go!" Then she walked to the tent flap, too eager to leave for Garreg Mach.
"Are you not going to say goodbye to him?"
"Seteth!" She would appreciate it if her colleague could drop the mischievous act altogether. The last thing she wanted was to be distracted by such notions. And she believes Seteth to be a lot better than some man harping on her about her love life! The nerve! "I'd app—"
There was a fond smile upon his lips, features in soft expression she'd never seen before. He had always been a strict no-nonsense kind of man, stoic if not emotionless. "It is good to have such a thing to fight for." Ah, nostalgia of him and his wife, back when they were still together, back when she was still alive.
She felt horrible for assuming the worst in her ally. "Sorry. Um, yes, I will speak to him before we go."
"Good."
"If I were King Dimitri, I wouldn't march into Imperial territory with such a measly force! The battle at Gronder was practically suicide."
"Yeah, that's true. But I'm sure he and the Alliance guy teamed up against the Empire. I doubt they had personal beef against one another."
"But they're both gone now. What's gonna happen to us?"
"What are you talking about? We're still the church." Soldier A looked funny at his companion, as if Soldier B had grown a third arm or something. "We have Seteth. We have Lady Rhea."
"But Rhea was captured. I doubt she's still alive."
"Well then, we have Byleth Eisner. I don't see anymore problems."
"Oh yeah! Right! She's scary, isn't she?"
Soldier A elbowed Soldier B. He was fairly aware that some of the students were around. "Shut your mouth before somebody skins you alive!"
"But it's the truth! Have you seen her in the frontlines? It's like she doesn't even blink at the sight of her own carnage! I'm just glad she's on our side." Then he grunted, "You know, maybe that Ubert guy is in love with her freakish strength."
That was the moment he couldn't take it anymore. Ashe loudly expressed his presence, "Ahem!" Although they were not mistaken to assume that he is partly in awe of Byleth's prowess, ever since the first time he saw her in battle.
Soldier A then bowed in apology, then manhandled Soldier B to parts of camp unknown, "You little c**t!"
That is right. Without Dimitri, the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus was practically inept. The same goes for the Alliance; they have too much internal struggles to worry about. As for the Empire, he sees themselves triumphant in their march against Edelgard. What would that leave Fodlan? The Church. The Church that he couldn't trust. But they could pull off another Holy Kingdom just for laughs…
"Then that leaves Byleth..." he shook his head
Her steps were brisk. Seteth did say they had to hurry. She stopped, eyes looking around, as discretely as she could, but it seems everybody already knows; a random priestess pointed her to the weapons convoy. Certainly, Byleth found Ashe there, counting bows and arrows for him and his fellow archers. The look of focus on his features made him incredibly handsome, hypnotizing that for a moment Byleth forgot what she was there for, aside from gawking at him.
"Professor! How long have you been there?" Ashe asked the moment he realized he wasn't alone. Carefully, he eyed the surroundings. Just him and the Professor.
A little bit embarrassed at getting caught off-guard, Byleth smoothed her coats unconsciously as she spoke, "Um..."
She's uncharacteristically shy recently, thought Ashe as he observed her fidget before him. Yeah, no. We are not gonna fall for that again, he reminded himself. No more unconscious space-invading actions until the end of the war for him. His brows scrunched together.
"We… Seteth and I are heading back to Garreg Mach. And I just wanted to let you know."
He was surprised to say the least. If anyone in her class was her enforcer or deputy, it would have been either Ferdinand or Sylvain. He couldn't hold in his incredulity, "Why? I mean why are you telling me this?" He already knew the answer. And he also knows why they were going back: his informant came around to tell him the ongoings in Faerghus.
Some soldiers approached the convoy and he had to pull Byleth a little ways off, out of earshot.
"I wanted to say goodbye," was her straight answer, back to her usual confident, if not stoic, self. "And that I will be gone for a day or two, and I would want you to watch out for the class." Why's he acting cold? A month ago he was really happy that we… reached a certain point in our relationship. Now he's just distant. "I can say goodbye, right?"
"I see." He felt everybody's eyes on them. "Be careful, alright?" He said, with finality. He then motioned back to his task.
Ashe watched the aerial detachment take to the skies. 'Seteth this. Seteth that,' he found himself thinking. He envied the man's position at Byleth's side, for his reliability and skills which he ought to learn himself if he had any plans of becoming a lord. His heart ached. And he seethed with jealousy. But what can he offer that Seteth hasn't? Nothing. He kicked a rock as he jostled the ground with his boot. He watched it roll, tumble until it stopped. 'Maybe it's about time I stopped too.'
"Well met, Captain." Byleth shook hands with the commander of the Gaspard Knights. He'd been recently declared dead in order to fulfill missives from Ashe. Now Byleth understands the full extent. "So this is what you've been busy with," her eyes swept through the formation; there should be at least two-thousand soldiers. Ragtag as they may be, she needs all the help that she can get. She bowed to them, "Thank you for being here."
The captain crossed his arms, in smirk, "Call us dower, if you may."
Hearing this caused Seteth to choke and cough.
"Dower?" asked Byleth, genuinely out of her element.
"Professor. Dower is—" Seteth cleared his throat. "It is a form of… bride price." She can be quite clueless at times, despite her natural talents.
That was when Byleth was taken aback, profusely blushing.
"It might just be a bit too early, but the whole of Gaspard," Gaspard naturals began bowing one by one, "Wishes for you to wed our lord, if we are not being presumptuous." His hand to his chest, he bowed in service to the future queen of Fódlan.
So this is what Ingrid felt like when she was swarmed with proposals… thought Byleth as she nodded to the idea. She wasn't against marrying Ashe, believing that there is no one else in the army that makes her feel the same: giddy and too optimistic about the outcome of the war. But it becomes embarrassing when in front of a huge crowd.
"I can manage here," began Seteth, cutting off the awkward turn, "You may return to Merceus and march with the main force."
Byleth stopped herself from agreeing at the first mention of return, not wanting to appear too obvious, to have a little bit of restraint. And the battle she was fighting within herself showed on her face.
Seteth chuckled, "No one will judge you negatively if you want to be back with your beloved."
"You're doing a bad job at being reassuring, Seteth."
"What? I don't see why you have to be ashamed. You're leading us with stellar results. You fight on the frontlines, you've lost family and friends alike, the least people could do is cut you some slack."
But when she returned to Merceus, someone was unsubtly cold. It wasn't a couple of days as she had previously thought and the moment she alighted from her pegasus, she only had one man in mind. And so she searched for Ashe in the vast clearing wherein the army currently rested. When she finally found him, Byleth wore a bright smile, brighter than any she has ever shown before "Ashe, there you are!"
"Professor! You're back. I thought you were with Seteth?"
"I was. But I rushed back here."
"The soldiers could use your presence," he said; his voice too deadpan for her tastes. The fact he deflected to others was a big red flag. He had no intentions of lengthening their conversation!
So Byleth tried. "How were things here while I was gone?"
"I think it's better to ask Ferdinand or Catherine."
He was correct. But she wasn't referring to the army. He's a good conversationalist. At least that's what she remembers him as a few days ago. That's when it hit her hard. Her lips parted in shock and they were ajar for quite a while. If he were himself or if nothing bothered him, he'd proceed to close her mouth, pushing her chin up with those bowstring-calloused fingers. But he didn't move.
"I see." Yes, she sees what's happening. So she pulled her Professor tone out. "Let's talk another time then." She left without another word, with no idea where to go to. Because she always stuck with him ever since she got him back. Resolving to find some place, the woman thought of how she wandered around Garreg Mach during her free days. 'Well, that's a start.'
Something happened, she presumed, without a doubt. And she began digging up when the first opportunity came. Yet there were no leads; no one had any idea of what happened.
"Something weird that happened?" Sylvain cocked his head. But he can't remember any. "Why you asking? We just marched a day's worth. That's it," then he looked at Dorothea who nodded her head in verification.
"Is something the matter, Professor? You can tell me. Don't tell him."
"Hey! Why can't she tell me?"
"Because you're going to gossip around."
Sylvain was hurt. "That's not true!" Dorothea knows. But she couldn't resist teasing him. "So, what's ailing you?"
She told them how frustrated she was. "I've got all this… this war and everything! Then he just does this one-eighty degree turn to further frustrate me. I'm tired! The least he could do is help me out!" It was explosive. Byleth huffed, visibly distraught. "Why is he doing this!?"
Both her companions were shocked at her display. Although it was nice knowing that there was turbulence underneath her stoic calm. The two looked at each other, arriving at wordless agreement, that somehow there was no way around it and the two would have to mediate. So Sylvain waved goodbye, further angering Byleth. Dorothea tried her best to calm the woman down.
Nightfall. Reconnaissance and forward teams rounded the immediate vicinity; anything can happen now that they're ever closer to Enbarr, the Imperial capital. Tents were pitched, mounts tethered for feeding and rest, and convoys stopped at the center of camp. Fires were soon brought to life, as the army settled down to rest. Cooks began their routines in the makeshift kitchens while the leaders had a meeting at the war tent.
Ration was brought out. Cold food, yay. But the cooks had enough heart to bring soup into life. And everyone rejoiced at the thought of warm food. Ashe was pleased that although rationing was tight everyone enjoyed the small yet warm meal. He stirred the pot, waiting for someone to queue up, with thoughts of how jealous he was for the past two days. Conflicted, he doesn't know where to go with his feelings.
"Hey there, Ashe!"
The young man looked up in time to see Sylvain's dastardly wink. And he regretted it.
"No need to look so disgusted, my man." Then he leaned in on the table, his soup bowl asking for a serving. "Volunteered yourself yet again. Hm, I kinda miss your and Professor's cooking." Sylvain took a sip of the soup, good as usual. "Good! As expected. But missing something."
"Get to the point."
"Aha, she is right. Why so cold, Ashe?" then he waved at a random soldier and told that person to man the soup. Sylvain then clapped Ashe on the shoulder and beckoned him somewhere inconspicuous. They arrived at the war tent. He motioned for Ashe to go in.
"Why should I?"
"You're being awfully prickly, you know! Just go inside, for goddess's sake!"
"Sylvain?" It was Byleth.
"It was trap," cursed Ashe underneath his breath. But what else can he do when he listened to Byleth's footsteps getting closer. Dorothea then arrived with bread and soup and handed them over with a wink of her own. Certainly, their habits are starting to rub off on each other.
"Good luck." Then she took of with Sylvain, her arms slinking around his elbow.
The tent flap opened and was she surprised. "What are you doing here?" Then she saw the food. It didn't take a second for her to realize that it was their friends doing, what with Ashe's distant spell. She took the bowl and the bread, making sure that they had no such contact. To give him space is the least that she could do. "Thank you, that was thoughtful of you." Immediately, she ordered him to stay, lest he ran away. "We need to talk."
She placed the food down on the table and took a seat. She beckoned the other over, too, and offered the bread. "Care to tell me what's happening to you?"
"Nothing's happening to me."
"Right."
They heard footsteps from outside. "Professor?" It was Seteth. The man did not ask for permission, assuming that the tent was empty. But was he surprised when he saw the lovers there. He cleared his throat. "Apologies, I did not mean to interrupt."
"No, it's alright. You have things to talk about, right?" said Ashe as he moved to exit but Byleth angrily thumped her soup bowl on the table. Her frustration was clear as a bright sunny day.
Seteth quickly picked up on it, "No, you stay. I believe it's about time you two were honest with each other." The man quickly left.
"You heard him," glared Byleth as she tore a piece of bread and ate. "So what's going on?" she reiterated.
Ashe sighed. What did she want him to say? Admit that he was jealous? He doesn't have the right to. She wasn't his. He bit his lips and crossed his arms, not really wanting to talk.
"Fine. If you don't want to talk, I will," said Byleth. She unceremoniously stood up, the utensils clattered about, with a fervid glare upon her features that softened in an instant. "I don't like what's happening to you. To us." She gathered all her courage. "I don't understand what's going on but please don't be like this. You're making me feel alone."
"Alone? You have Sylvain, Dorothea, your friends! And Seteth," he stressed the last name with prejudice. "You're not alone."
"They're different!"
"You're different!" screamed Byleth. She approached. "It's different when I'm with you. And I don't know what it is." No, she was keenly aware of what it was. "I just know that I want to be with you always! I can't explain this, this need! I have always been alone! Now I..." Her hands held tightly to her coat, grasping, clutching. "Why do emotions have to be so complex!?"
Ashe was dumbstruck with Byleth's tirade.
"And what about Seteth? Why are you bringing him into this!?"
"Because I'm jealous, alright!?"
Seteth's eyes widened. He didn't leave at all, thinking that the two might need his intervention somewhere in between. But boy, was he in for some juicy bits. He was confused, 'What does this have to do with me!?'
"What? W-why!?"
'Yeah, you tell him, Professor,' thought the green-haired man as he mentally sided with Byleth.
"Because," Ashe was finding it difficult to express his thoughts and feelings, now that embarrassment was taking over as he realizes how petty he was being. "Because… he's always by your side. Helping you. Guiding you. What could I possibly have that could hold a candle against that?"
Seteth sighed, 'The correct word would be envy.'
"The correct word would be envy," corrected Byleth. But she was now relieved. "But I believe I would be similarly jealous if you began hanging out with somebody else. Like Petra."
"Excuse me, what?" Ashe couldn't believe what he heard. Of all people, Petra!? "Petra is in love with Caspar!"
"In love?" Her hand went to her chest. That's right. Her heart does not beat. Then how will the saying apply to her? "This… I can't explain it. Maybe this is what they call l—"
His bowstring-calloused fingers were firmly clamped over her lips. He was dangerously close, too. And he was shaking. "I don't want to hear it," he whispered to her. "I don't want to hear it. Yet." Maybe it was just her pitying him. That last thing that he needs is love born of pity. His hold loosened and Byleth was just as determined as he was, to tell him what she thinks she's feeling,
"I l—"
"I don't want to hear it!" but this time, he was laughing and crying at the same time. "You tell me after the war."
Byleth nodded and his warmth was gone. Instead, she wiped away his tears of joy, "I don't think this feeling would change anytime soon."
Ashe crookedly smiled, "Neither will mine." He laughed again, "Goddess, I can't believe this."
"You have to because I really think I lo—"
His hands were back at her face. Her skin was soft and her lips were warm. Slowly, his fingers brushed against them, testing Byleth, but she just stood there, letting him. That's far enough, he reprimanded himself. "Stop teasing me."
"I'm not."
A few more moments, the tent flap opened finally. And out came Ashe, surprised that Seteth was still there.
A bright red blush crawled over every inch of Ashe's face. "You were listening?!"
"I did not hear anything," a blatant lie.
Byleth exited the tent, the bowl in her hands, similarly surprised that Seteth was present. "Seteth? What are you doing here?"
"I was hoping to discuss with you our costs this month." The man then looked to their other companion, hoping he was not crossing some unspoken line that might cause the younger man to be dangerously jealous yet again. "May I?"
"Why are you asking me? Wait, so you were listening!"
"I was not. I merely thought it proper courtesy to ask the lord husband."
Byleth almost dropped her soup bowl.
Sylvain smirked, "Told ya it wasn't me!" Proudly he mocked Ashe for thinking he was the one who was spreading rumors. "Besides, people don't need rumors with the way you two act around each other."
"Maybe I should threaten you again," hissed Ashe.
"You can try!"
Thanks for reading!
