Okay, I was lazy and kinda busy with work. Just got rolled into a new project. Life's been eventful lately.
As usual, thank you for reading this fic. Especially now that I have really stepped onto the FANFICTION realm, like, coz there's an OC. Nothing much, that's all, but I do hope that you all still enjoy this.
Have a nice day!
Adrestia's Last (Silver Snow)
Byleth combed away ebony hair from green eyes. She had seen the color combination before, coupled with a dark, brooding expression. Yet this child was anything but his father. Innocence lit his face, still unaware of what, or who, had taken away the lives of his parents. The woman could not take it and she turns away, stifling her cry. She leaves the poor child in Seteth's care as she ran in the halls of the Imperial castle, searching for her love. Panicked, she looks left and right at a crossing, not knowing where to go. It was fortunate that Ferdinand von Aegir spots her in her moment of confusion.
"Professor?" the man approached. "Are you lost?"
Byleth nodded, then supplied that she was searching for Ashe.
Ferdinand senses the urgency and quickly brings her to the silver-haired bow knight, who happened to be at the right-wing garden. Byleth did not waste time, hurrying to caress him when he turned. His green eyes questioned the other man, but Ferdinand only shook his head. Ashe held her gently. His hand ran down her back, soothing. "What's the matter, Professor?" He still calls her that out of habit, despite everyone telling him to start calling her by name properly.
"I killed them," she whispered. First, Hubert, then Edelgard. She pressed her face tight against Ashe's chest, even if the plate armor hurt, "Although they deserved it...I can't… I can't look him in the eyes!" were her muffled words. Still the man had no idea what she was speaking of.
That was until Seteth arrived with a toddler in his arms. Everyone understood. What and who the child was. Aside from the 'Slitherers', there was something more that Hubert von Vestra had hoped to entrust to Byleth.
'Those who slither do know of this child. He is the one wish that Lady Edelgard had asked of me personally. And now that we are both gone, I hope that you protect him from them.'
Those green eyes bore holes into her, as if innocence was merely a veil that hid away cleverness.
"Let's take care of him."
Her head shot up to look at him and verify his incredulous words.
"It's our responsibility to look after him and assure that he does not meet the same fate." Ashe smiled then beckoned Seteth over so that he could take the child into his own arms. "He is as afraid as you are, Byleth."
Slowly and with reluctance, Byleth detached herself from her beau so that he can carry the child. They looked at one another, two shades of green, eye to eye. Then Ashe pulled Byleth for another hug. "This child should never be held responsible for the sins of his parents. Can you help me keep that promise?"
Reluctant as she may be, Byleth smiled and nodded fervently, "Of course." More and more she fell deeper in love with him and his kind heart. Ashe then placed a soft kiss upon Byleth's brow. A seal to a promise they intend to keep to the end.
"This is your Mum, Addie," pointed Ashe at a portrait of Edelgard von Hresvelg, the last Adrestian Emperor, as he carried the child in one arm. "She was a good ruler who fought for her beliefs." It was true. He once thought that her ideals made sense. But it was through her conspiracies that Lonato and Jeralt died, both of whom are his fathers. But that wasn't something that the child is ready to hear.
"I have two Mums?"
"Oh, yes. And they love you very much."
Ashe looked at young Addie; his eyes were glued to the adjacent portrait. He followed suit. The man immortalized in the painting had ebony hair. His expression was hard and brooding if not glaring. Anyone would find him a frightening fellow though it wasn't far from the truth. "That is your Dad. Hubert von Vestra." Ashe failed at words that could paint the dark man in a good light. Fortunately, his wife saved him from embarrassing himself.
"So this is where you two are," huffed Byleth as she closed the door to the blue room. It was Castle Gaspard's art room, that which the two had added the two Imperial portraits, courtesy of Ignatz, for the sake of their adopted child.
"Couldn't you send somebody to look for us? You're heavy with child." Indeed she was. Byleth was nearing her last trimester and the child grows heavier every day. Both Seteth and Ferdinand sent her back to Gaspard in time of her childbirth, away from the hustle and bustle of Garreg Mach.
"You all treat me as if I am a casualty. I am pregnant, not wounded!" She giggled as her husband kissed her brow. "The doctor said it would be good for me, walking that is." Then she combed away Addie's fringes. It now frequently gets into his eyes, just like Hubert's did, and she surmised that a haircut is in order.
"Don't want to!" said the child while he draped himself over his father's shoulder. He raised his eyes, towards the painting of a silver-haired woman with soft purple eyes. Beside her was a dark-haired man, his features similar to his.
Byleth noticed how hypnotized the child was. "That is Hubert von Vestra. He is a man of devotion. He loved your mother very much."
Ah, the words he was looking for. Ashe petted Addie then kissed him. "They loved you very much, Addie."
Byleth imitated her husband's gesture, "We love you very much, too."
"I'm hungry," said the child and the three of them headed out for a snack.
Another morning, groaned Byleth as she finally resisted the urge to go back to sleep. She stirred in her bed and yelped! Right, I forgot about that, she mused at how packed her bed is at the moment. Beside her slept little Addie, who wouldn't sleep alone, and Ashe, whom Addie had insisted sleep with them. The man had moved to the foot of the bed, sleeping propped against the wall with his head lolled over his shoulder. I doubt he had any decent sleep in that position.
Carefully, Byleth swung her legs over the edge. Her eyes darted towards Ashe, verifying that he's still asleep before she began to right what little clothes she had on. She pulled her robe on, and as she did so, she reminisced about the last time they slept together in the same room; it was back in Myrddin. Sylvain saw through their pathetic excuse, knowing he has used the same excuse many times in his long stint of carousing until daybreak, yet surprisingly, no rumors has sprouted since then. Perhaps, I judged Sylvain wrong, chuckled Byleth as she brought out the brush and the mirror.
After washing her face, she sat down to brush her hair. Incidentally, Ashe woke up and checked on their baby—Byleth blushed at the thought. Having a family with him sounds nice, what with him being a responsible man, she thought as she watched him through the mirror. He tucked the kid's arms in and pulled the covers up to Addie's chin. Looking up, he caught the mirror flashed at him and he smiled beautifully. He left as soon as he put his boots on.
Byleth pouted, "Hmph, didn't even bother to give me a kiss!"
After they defeated the Empire, things have started to veer towards normalcy once more. They've lost many, and grieved much, yet here they were, ready to give more again as reparations and rebuilding began its planning stages. However, Seteth laments that the war is not over yet. This time, he plans on taking a smaller portion of the army with them, only the most elite of the Knights of Seiros plus Byleth's class. She herself does not know who or what they're up against but she trusts the man's judgement.
Everyone involved was preparing tirelessly, herself included. Weaponry has been maintained and restocked, vulneraries and items as well. Continuing their instructions after war councils, Byleth made sure that everyone improved in one way or another. Even if everyone was exhausted, reaching their limits, she pushed them on, believing that they're on the final stretch.
"You're lifeless," the woman remarked after failing to get a reaction from her praise. She prodded further "Is something the matter?" There is, that she knew. Otherwise, her beau Ashe wouldn't be as quiet as the dead. Usually, he'd be happy and eager while learning but she realized even the most patient men have their limits. "You can tell me." She beckoned him to sit down, not before shooing everybody else out of the war room.
His green eyes watched them leave one by one, saw people pair up. His trepidation grew; its roots digging deeper into his heart though he refuses to give words to his feelings.
"I don't like that you're too quiet." Yet she waited. Her hand reached for his, squeezed it tight. He returned the gesture, entangling his fingers with hers. Sometime ago, he'd smile like a fool when they held hands. But he couldn't find that happiness at the moment.
"I thought the war was finally over. Then it wasn't."
She figured that was the case. She was excited, too, hoping that she could finally put an end to the yearning she feels and settle down with him and Addie. But there seems to be more to everything. "You're also mad that she's back," Byleth whispered, hinting at Rhea. The corner of his jaw moved in irritation.
"I could care less about her," he hissed. On his face a was a mess of anger, confusion and sadness. It was the same with his voice.
Gently, she reminded herself. Conversations with this tone requires it to be a little bit of chess, careful maneuvers and subtle leads. "Then should we leave it at that?" hoping he'd tell her when he's ready.
"It's just that—"
Perfectly bad timing—Mercedes and Addie appear at the door. But… perhaps it was for the best. Ashe's worries melted away as the child, without hesitation, ran towards them, at full speed. It took them both a few days before they got used to each other, now, Addie looks up to them as his adults.
"Maybe it's a matter for another time," said Ashe as he lifted the child up to his chest.
Byleth agreed.
"Rrrrrrraaaaaaarrrgggggghhhhh," his scream of painful effort echoed through the main chamber as he pulled his bow one last time. The mighty golems that continuously pestered them was as persistent as they were, and they continued to block the way to Solon. Just a few moments ago, a strong magical quake assailed them, immobilizing their mounts, fracturing multiple bones in their bodies. Those who survived it pushed back the gigantic enemies as Byleth ran up the stairs to the enemy, the last one of the dreaded leadership of Agarthans, to ultimately end the battle. Multiple dark magic spells fired out, hindering her on her path. And as one last shot, Ashe pulled his bow against his own body's wishes, arrow aimed at the very top of the flight. The weight of the accuracy ring he wore on his right thumb and every skill he learned under Byleth's tutelage assured him; he wasn't going to miss.
Byleth heard the whizz, followed through with the Sword of the Creator at the ready, and the arrow piercing Solon, she jumped through the vortex of magic, through the pain, and offed him for good. "Finally… finally… Dad, you have been avenged!" she heaved and hacked, manic grin on her lips. One more stab to ensure that the bastard was dead, then she left as quickly as she could to help the others.
With haste, she flew through the steps, the carnage flashed before her eyes. Dorothea, Linhardt, and Mercedes did their best to heal the others though they themselves weren't unscathed. Byleth found Ashe, resting against his dying horse. He was in no better shape and yet he was comforting the animal, tears in his eyes, both from pain and sadness. "There, there, it's gonna be alright," he calmed the horse down. A few moments after, it stopped moving.
She concentrated her magic to restore him but then the ground rumbled. "What is it this time!?"
Javelins of Light! Everyone scrambled onto their feet, desperately finding an exit to the damned underground den.
Addie colored at the foot of Ashe's bed. The child was more than happy to have them back and well again, awake again. Church staff recounted how harrowing it was to see the dark-haired child silently crying in the corner as his beloved adults were being hefted into the reception hall, in stretchers, motionless and bloody; the child feared that they were dead.
Byleth watched him, "How are you feeling, Addie?" She had fainted on their way back to Garreg Mach and thus was taken into the monastery in a stretcher alongside Ashe. She was worried that a lot of them wouldn't make it. But news from the medical team overjoyed her. Some would take a long recovery but they were alive.
"Happy!" The child smiled, reminiscent of the smiles of both his true parents—never full crescent, small yet sincere.
She looked over her shoulder and saw her beloved watching them. He was sitting up, fine enough after the healers mended him for the last time. His arm was in a sling, the one thing they did not repair for him. He looked tired yet relieved that the war was finally over. Byleth was as well. Jeralt was avenged, the people of Remire and Lonato and Christophe as well. Many others, too.
"So you're telling me it was the Agarthans that egged both Christophe and Lonato? On two different accounts?"
"Yes. I've had it investigated by Seteth. And well, you saw the letters."
Ashe sat back against his pillows and sighed. Finally he can marry Byleth. She sat closer to him and held his hand. Her expression was knowing, "What are you thinking about?"
"I was thinking about Gaspard." He steered clear of his true thoughts and intentions, afraid that he might blurt it out prematurely without a ring. What's her size anyway? And what's her preference with jewelry? Wait, does he even have enough gold?
"You're going back?"
"I have to. I want to oversee its rebuilding. I have to check on my siblings as well." His green eyes looked into her soul. "What about you?" Ashe was concerned. He heard the news. With the leaders of every country of Fódlan either dead or missing, everyone in the church is insinuating that Byleth is the only good leader left in the land. His expression was pained, "You're going to be queen?"
"It seems I may not have a choice."
Ashe turned to Addie, afraid that Byleth would see the tears that shimmered in his eyes. "If you don't want to do it, you don't have to…" Because a commoner such as him would certainly not be fit to be king-consort. Everyone would be beset by worry for breaking tradition. He shook his head. "But I guess, if you become queen, I'll have to be your best knight. It's the least that I could do."
The woman beside him chuckled. "You don't want to be king?" Although its consequences were painful, him not wanting to marry her is the worst of them lot. So what is this? Letting me hold your hand, kissing me chastely on my cheek, caressing me, raising a child with me? All of this… isn't? Painfully, her chest tightened at the realization. Byleth looked at his face for answers; he was morose. And seeing him so relieved her.
"Byleth, I…" Her name naturally rolled off his tongue, "Wouldn't everyone be mad with me?" he rubbed his wounded arm as insecurity ate his soul. "Certainly they would want a noble."
Aha, so that's what he was worried about! "Oh, Ashe…," Byleth held his opposite cheek. Gently, she turned him around, to look at his face, revel at his perfect features. Well they weren't really perfect but they were more than perfect for her. She tucked away that stray lock of hair behind his ear. "How about we have a little bit of insurance?"
"Huh? Wh—"
Byleth didn't give him time to finish what he was saying. It was long, it was deep, and she savored every second his lips was on hers. It wasn't the best kiss that there is but she figured they'd have all the time in Fódlan to practice. Not to mention she could just rewind time.
"Yuck," interjected Addie. He was about to ask them to review his work. But when he turned, of all things he had to see, it was his adults kissing.
Rosy blush dusted her cheeks as she parted herself while he was red all over and he was like a gasping fish, mouth open and closing in an attempt to speak, but no words could actually come out. "Ashe!" she shook him.
"W-Why did you do that!?" Not that he didn't like it. But she wasn't his fiancée! They had no relationship whatsoever aside from being ex teacher-student and being allies… He felt like crying. His emotions were pulling him in eight different directions and more.
"Insurance! Now you really have to do something about it! Or, or I'll cry foul and force you to do something about it!"
"But those choices are the same!"
Byleth laughed. "No, they aren't." Her laughter died down when she saw the grim expression of her companion. Suddenly, she shared it, too. "You don't want to—"
"Don't get the wrong idea! Obviously, I'd want," Ashe shook his head, "I'd LOVE to spend the rest of my life with you… but… you're gonna be queen."
"So?"
"I mean, if it were Felix or Sylvain who'd marry you, everyone would be alright with that!"
She does not like what she's hearing. "I wouldn't be alright with that."
"I'm not a noble, Byleth!"
"So?" she stood her ground. She doubts anyone would go against her choice of spouse when she gets crowned. She'd just threaten them with the red glow of the Creator Sword and everything will be okay. They both sighed. "I don't see why you're worrying."
"And why shouldn't I?"
"Before they make me queen, I'll marry you. Then I'll repatriate you, back to Gaspard as its heir, talk to its governor and citizens. I'm certain they would want you back; you are Lonato's son after all. Then I'll marry you again. You'd be a noble then, right? If someone insignificant so much says a word of objection, I will show them to my blade."
"They'd call you a tyrant!" Though the thought that she thought everything out just to marry him melted his heart.
"So?" Byleth laughed. "I mean, it would be a lot less bad than what Edelgard did."
They fell quiet once more as they watched Addie crinkle his nose as he made a wrong choice of color for his masterpiece. A knock on the door broke them off as Byleth went to answer it; it was Seteth, bearing news that Rhea wishes to speak.
"No! Cyril don't do it!" screamed Lysithea as she tried, futile as it may, to stop Cyril from entering the melee. Yet he was gone, atop his wyvern, bow in hand, to try and put down the berserk Immaculate One. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she continued to man the magic orb. She looked around, somebody, anyone who could stop him but everybody was busy distracting Rhea. She prayed, from the bottom of her heart for the first time, that may the Goddess keep him safe.
Pain overwhelmed him at the smallest movement. He looked down, his arm was practically torn off, holding onto a single thread of tendon. "Dorothea! Any time now!" He roared as he waited for the physic spell to land on him as there was no way he could do anything with his lance arm flayed. He grasps around for the Lance of Ruin; he must be at the ready to attack at any moment the barrier on his side breaks. "Just when I thought I was finally having a break, this happens!" Warmth and light finally engulfed him and he felt the magic restructure all his wounds. He urged it faster, faster, so that he could go back and help his professor.
The barriers on his flank broke down after Cyril's successful attack; he wasn't fortunate though as Rhea's breath sent him and his wyvern careening down to the ground. Sylvain took the chance. He steered his mount around and charged at full speed. The Lance groaned and rattled at the anticipation of flesh. On the other side was Byleth, battling against Rhea's clawed attacks. She was lucky enough that she was much faster and that the monster was too preoccupied by everybody giving their all.
It was a long and arduous battle. She heaved, her endurance at its limit. She can be wounded and healed over and over, but her vitality could only handle so much strain. Finally, the barrier broke and like fluttering golden butterflies, they flitted in the wind. If not for the apparent danger they were in, it would have been a beautiful display worthy of being captured in canvas.
Byleth raised the Creator Sword. A fast clopping of horseshoes approached. He urged his mount faster; momentum must drive the lance deeper into the dragon's hide. The horse leapt. Sylvain plunged the Lance of Ruin into Rhea's chest and they fell backwards as the monster flailed about in pain.
One last blow to finish it all off. She smiled through the grime and dirt, looking forward to receive a ring and a proposal, get hitched and have a family and be love struck like her father was.
Byleth leapt into the peaceful future.
Ashe grinned as he dismounted from his horse. It was a fairly long ride through misty Magdred yet no matter how dreary it was, it could not dampen his mood, not by a bit. That was because the day after was his formal reinstatement as Lord of Gaspard. The news of it was well celebrated back at home. But that wasn't what truly made his heart jump for joy. It was his return to Garreg Mach. For a couple of months he had been absent from the ancient edifice, and moreso from the company of his beloved Byleth. He could care less for his title, and his people expressed their entertained disdain of it.
Most of the damages have been repaired and the monastery looks like a mismatch of patches. He walked some more into the vastness of Garreg Mach, waving with a smile at the people who recognized him, as precious memories overtook his faculties. Up he went to the second floor offices, in search of Byleth, only to be disappointed by Seteth.
"I am afraid she escaped me and her tasks," there was a neat stack of documents at her table. His face lit up, "I have a favor to ask of you. Would you mind returning her to her office?"
Ashe smiled and nodded.
"By the way, congratulations, Ubert. Or should I call you Lord Gaspard? King-Consort?" causing the younger man to redden slightly.
"I'd love it if she would say yes."
"Ah. So you have gathered the necessary courage. Her answer will be yes. Undoubtedly so."
And Seteth was right. Byleth indeed accepted his proposal. With a teary yes. He could barely hold his own tears in as the reality of things slowly sank in.
The sun setting behind him hid his blushing features as he held onto her hand, close to his chest. His heart was practically in his throat and was begging to be released by the way it thumped like a drum. She had just said yes and he couldn't believe it himself. He lowered her hand and slowly, gently, slipped on the budget ring he bought; luckily it was only a little loose. He is ashamed that Byleth's ring far outclasses his, but that doesn't matter now; he can buy another, much grander ring after he inherits Gaspard. Yet the idea flies out the window when he sees Byleth's eyes watering as she raised her hand to the dying sunlight.
"I love it."
It was his turn to wear his ring. He took his glove off and Byleth took his hand in hers. Lo and behold the ring didn't fit. They laughed.
"It's because it's my mother's!" Mirth in her eyes.
"So you were planning on making me wear a woman's ring!?" he pulled her into a hug as they both chuckled at the predicament. She stacked it over her engagement ring, as she calls it, and watched the gems glisten in the light. "Well, I guess I'll keep Mum's ring as my wedding ring. Let's have Seteth read the charge." He couldn't agree more.
