Thank you, everyone, for your follows, faves, and reviews! As always, comment if you have any feedback, questions, or suggestions. I will warn you that there is much already planned. It is up to you if you can withstand the angst ahead.
There was no welcoming party. Two suspicious figures cloaked outside of the Kingdom's great fortress certainly did not invite festivities. Instead, it was a squadron of knights ready to book up the possible spies. Byleth expected this much, but she was somewhat disheartened to realize that the road ahead was truly going to be a trying one. "Lysithea," her green-eyes looked to the wall to her right, "How are you feeling?" The treatment received so far was not pleasant to put it simply.
"Well, aside from the chains and inhibitors, I feel great." The sarcasm was not lost on Byleth. The grungy cell was not her ideal. There was a small cot, but it was mostly made of straw. The ground beneath her was stone blocks. Rats likely existed in the walls, but the woman had yet to see any critters. Torches lined the hall outside of their cells, giving the only source of light. Aside from her cloak and sword, she at least had the rest of her possessions. If there was anything to be said of the Kingdom's regular army, they were disciplined and not above taking extremes to ensure safety. Though, they were still rough in pushing them into the holding area.
In addition to their poor residency, there were the bindings that held them to the wall and inhibitors that messed with their magic. Considering the sheer destructiveness of her companion, it was a smart call on the Kingdom's part to suppress both their magic. "I am sure there will be someone at the fort that we can communicate with." Remembering her informant's words, the man in charge of the fort was Gwendal, the Gray Lion. There was no way of bartering with him in battle, but an appeal as a prisoner may sway him. Admittedly, it would make her life easier if he or any other high-ranking officer at the fort could vouch for them before being sent to Fhirdiad.
Lysithea could not help but grumble at the sense of uncertainty with their situation. Byleth recognized that the girl was already aware of the path ahead, but she knew that the other was running on fumes at that point. Their flight coupled with the lackluster conditions did little to ease the younger female. "Do you have a real plan or are you relying on prayers?"
Byleth chuckled at the mere idea of praying, not opposed to it but finding amusement in the act. As Sothis's proxy, prayers to the goddess technically were directed to her. "A mixture of some intel and luck," she answered. The white-haired woman deserved that much. Her choice in surrendering at Arianrhod was not to use Gwendal as the channel. Rather, her thought was that he would have the decency to notify the king or one of his trusted council. She had no illusions that they would undoubtedly spare her, but her action would at least spark attention. The ripples of her choice were likely already felt.
"What sort of information do you have?" her companion perked up, likely relieved to have something to go off of.
On top of her informant's route and knowledge of the Gray Lion, the collaborator too gave a rather interesting observation. There was to be an overseer at the fortress, a noble by the name of Rodrigue Fraldarius. Unlike Gwendal, Byleth herself personally met with the man at the monastery. It was her prayer... her hope that the man did not change in that time. And also unlike Gwendal, the man was fiercely loyal to only the monarch whereas the other was loyal to House Rowe. He would be compelled to inform Dimitri, but that was entirely around if he was present or aware of her presence. Someone of his status was not easy to attract. "We may have a direct connection to the king, but it is a matter of whether or not he will see us."
The news seemed sufficient to placate Lysithea. Byleth's ears caught the other relax, as best she could, against the wall. Finding any sense of comfort was the best they could do until someone came to visit. It hadn't been long since they were locked up, to begin with, but her sense of time faded as Byleth drifted into a momentary sleep. Her tiredness seemed to catch up with her finally. While her cell was nowhere near as soft as her bed, she found more ease locked up. It was what she deserved. Without conversation, it was easy for the woman to slip back into darkness.
She chuckled at the irony. Her life was just filled to the brim with irony. And at that moment, she had to rely on talking when she was never one for talking, to begin with. Byleth did not mind being swallowed in her self-hatred. After all, it was not unfounded. Her recklessness and immaturity harbored the greatest seminal catastrophe in Fodlan's history. If she had listened to Rhea, it was possible the war itself could have been avoided. If she had listened, it would be possible Claude would still live.
"Hey, Teach. Wake up."
Byleth immediately snapped from her stupor and glanced around fervently. That voice. It was unmistakable. Yet, even in her alert state, she spotted no hide or hair of the man in question. Though, her eyes did settle on someone new. It was a mere guard, most certainly not Claude. "Ah, you're awake. Perfect. I have a few-"
"Hold on now, you're not allowed to go down there." Another unnamed guard growled from a few paces away from them. The supposed interrogator's attention shifted to where the commotion came from.
He paused as his eyes soon connected with someone to his left. The perplexed look on his face showed that he was not expecting whoever their new guest was. However, the guard was quick to give a bow and show respect. "Sir... it is my duty by Sir Gwendal order to-" Again, the man was caught off.
"I'll take care of the questioning, don't worry." The voice was familiar. Byleth blinked as her mind trailed back to days gone by. Back to the days when she was a teacher and he was a student. They were in separate houses, but he was never a stranger. As much as his attempts to curry her favor grated on her, the nostalgia of hearing his voice again brought her respite. She dearly missed those times.
His name manifested on her tongue as he finally appeared before her. Physically, he was hardly much different aside from a change of hair and attire. It actually caused the woman to wonder if the other matured. "Sylvain, it's you."
"Oh dear, professor, how I missed your radiant beauty." Byleth felt her hope for his maturity shrink. However, that was not truly a bad thing. If anything, it brought her relief to see the other even partially consistent. The thought that the war did not sour him brought a genuine smile.
Still a rare sight to behold, the redhead's cheeks lit up pink, his gaze fixated on her expression. "You missed me, dear Byleth?" His suggestive smile was much like with the one he often adorned in his school days.
"Possibly," she answered playfully, "I did not know you were here." It warmed her heart to see such a calm expression on his face. It wiped away her guilt momentarily. All that existed in her mind was her own amusement at the other's honey words.
A groaning sound emanated from the adjacent cell. "Goddess, will you not encourage him?" Lysithea whined, not as pleased with Sylvain's behavior. It was to be expected of any rational woman after all to rebuff his... lackluster advances.
The redhead shifted his attention to the white-haired woman with that comment, "And hello to you too, fair Lysithea." His tone was much the same as the one he took with the former professor. It seemed like he was unchanged by the horror. A sense of envy gripped Byleth as she wished she were the same. Out of everyone, the war seemed to degenerate her personality most of all. Her former class certainly matured in some ways, but they were not too different from when she last saw them. Lysithea, despite her losses, did not look damaged. After Claude's execution, Byleth felt fractured.
The white-haired woman huffed and stomped her foot in the same manner as she would've many years back, still not easing up on her captor... Byleth blinked as her situation reemerged in her memory. With the redhead around, there would be no concern in reaching Dimitri. Yet, her guard could not be lowered so carelessly. "About your questions?" she prompted the conversation to return to where it once was.
"Oh right! My apologies," the man scratched the back of his head, "What did you seek in gaining from spying so brazenly on the fort? Has Edelgard already set her sights on the Kingdom?" His questions hit Byleth like a knife. Even though his questions were justifiable, it still stung to be treated as a prisoner.
"I... I did not come as a spy. My intention was to defect to the Kingdom." Her answer earned a laugh. Not only from the redhead, but any other guards present seemed just as amused by the idea. Deserters were not uncommon, but very few of such... high rank and military distinction willingly wished to break away from the Empire. Byleth could imagine that Lysithea in the next cell over was not too pleased with the response. A low growl could be heard from her companion. "It is the truth," Byleth asserted herself, recognizing that she did not exactly have the room's trust.
Sylvain nodded along to her words, but it was evident that he needed more convincing if he were to buy her words at face value. "It is honestly not my place to say that. I merely requested to be the interrogator since I did not wish for you to be yelled at and mistreated. So, could you just make it easy and fess up? I don't plan to do anything extreme. Just make this simple and I can at least promise to fulfill any final requests."
The other's offer did entice Byleth. Not that her self-loathing culminated in her actively seeking out death, rather she was tempted by the idea of using her request to ask for Lysithea's freedom. However, she did not have the opportunity to even further consider the deal. "You pigheaded noble!" Lysithea spat out, impatient with how talks seemed to break down so fast, "We did not come here to look at some crummy fort. And if we were, why send the personal advisor to the Emperor herself?"
A bit ticked by the insult, Sylvain frowned at the white-haired woman. "This all could be a ruse then. You're trying to infiltrate the base and lower the defenses to allow imperial forces in." It was not an unfounded idea. Byleth shrunk further as she hesitated to respond at first. The other's accusations made sense for a traitor like her. She had betrayed Rhea, Edelgard, and even her father. She avenged him, but in the same breath joined the villains that planned out his assassination. She might as well have plunged the dagger in him herself.
Where Byleth faltered, Lysithea scoffed and stood... sat her ground. "It was never our intention to even stay at the fort. This was just the closest location to the border. It was smarter to turn ourselves over than try to slip past any sentries." Her answer seemed to cause the redhead to pause and gather his thoughts. Yet, he had little opportunity as the white-haired woman had the will to continue. "Our intent is to pass information and fight on the front if allowed. We are just as much Edelgard's enemies as you are."
"I wish to... swear myself to Dimitri and join your cause." Byleth finally joined in, her feeble voice made it almost difficult to even hear her words. Where Lysithea's reasoning had him pause, he gaped at Byleth's reaction.
"... Would it be possible that your intent is to kill Dimitri?" The suggestion hit her like an arrow and caused the woman to wince in pain. Already responsible for one of the leader's deaths, the notion of assassinating the king caused her to crumble under the guilt once again.
Sylvain's eyes shot open as he watched the female slump forward. Tears trickled down Byleth's eyes as she fell into a childlike sob. The intense reaction was enough to cause the redhead to back away hesitantly, unsure of what to say for himself. Aside from the sound of his footsteps, the former teacher was no longer able to see what her jailor was doing. Her eyes were shrouded by tears. Along with her eyesight, her voice was lost to her. It was a pitiful display, not something even a spy could muster.
Composure took time to come. Throughout the evening, her whimpers sounded throughout the compound. Lysithea's attempts to ease the female's mental burden did little. This sobbing fit was beyond Byleth. Her father's death only had her choked up. It was ever since Sothis merged with her that she began to slowly lose herself. Her newfound emotions guided her on a far better path, but her time as the Ashen Demon was simpler. A part of her wished to rewind time to before she was even born. She could spare her mother from death by merely remaining stillborn.
Morbid thoughts kept her from reality. Food brought to her doorstep was left untouched. It wasn't until the sunlight breached the small opening from the outside hall that she finally regained herself. She did not need a mirror to know that her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks were tearstained. "Lysithea..." her speech was slurred, "Did Sylvain have anything more to say?"
The white-haired woman apparently was resting when Byleth asked. There was no immediate response, rather a yawn and the sound of her shifting herself upright. "No," she answered after another long yawn, "He made an excuse and ran off. Not sure what will come of that." Her odd reaction to his comment was not within her own plans. If it worked out for them, it would be a miracle. However, the idea of using her grieving to prove her innocence did nothing for her conscience. She did not deserve to use Claude's murder for her own survival. If anything, her execution was more deserved.
"Were you able to see his expression?" Byleth asked, still wishing to know what was to come with her outburst.
Her eyes lingered on the wall, anticipating the other's response. "I was not on a good angle to observe him, but his voice sounded somewhat shaken. I can at least reassure you that he was not mad. If I had to guess, I would assume he was bewildered." To Byleth, the reaction made sense. The obvious spy had been openly weeping to the idea of killing the enemy leader. Even though she wanted to avoid the memories of the previous day, she wanted to properly address her scrutinizer, at least for Lysithea's sake.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Green-eyes promptly shot in their direction, curious if it was Sylvain once more. Though, the assumption snapped as she heard another pair of feet. These second pair were far louder, likely weighed down by heavy armor. Sure enough, it was Sylvain who stood before her. However, Sir Gwendal too was in her presence. The scorn on the older man's face was quite easy to discern. "These are the spies then. You mentioned that this first one was the emperor's personal advisor, right?" Byleth's breath was caught on the title. The redhead still thought lowly of her.
"That is correct, sir," Sylvain affirmed in an almost... sheepish tone?
Gwendal's gaze soon turned to the second cell. "And this one is a collaborator for the Kingdom from the Alliance?" His glare was still present, but it was far more relaxed when directed toward Lysithea. The man likely had a natural scowl. Byleth's eyes snapped open as his words truly dawned on her though. The white-haired woman was not referred to as her cohort. Rather ambiguously she was referred to as a "collaborator for the Kingdom." The classification told enough on their respective fates. The green-eyed woman was overtaken by relief. As much as she stuck between wanting life or death, her respite came from the other's safety. Even if her request was left unspoken, it was still fulfilled.
However, such sentiments were not met with the same positivity in the other cell. "Sylvain, you-" Lysithea tried to shout, but she was promptly cut off.
"Sorry about her behavior, Sir Gwendal. She had not yet revealed her intentions to the other yet. Please forgive her sour tone." His subservient tone toward the commander was a sharp contrast to the glare he shot toward the white-haired woman. The gesture was enough to tongue-tie Lysithea and halt any vitriol. Sylvain was quick to return his attention back to the elder knight after the female's protests were quelled.
"Is that so? I will trust your account," the Gray Lion's hardened gaze was sent toward his own ally, "For now. I merely wished to see the prisoners for myself and be a judge of that. I can imagine the little girl as a collaborator, but her?" His hand gestured to Byleth. "She is nothing like I've heard. She looks like a sniveling whelp." His insult was not unfounded, not when her eyes were pink and wet trails still shined along her cheeks. The elder gave one more scoff before he turned himself around. "I have better things to do than watch some brat." The clinking of the heavy armor sounded as he exited the compound. Sylvain continued to watch as the man slowly disappeared into the distance, merging with the other silver sets of armor.
Before he had the chance to explain himself, the white-haired woman found her voice once more, "How dare you?! You condemned her! For what?! To save your own ass and make up for your incompetence?! Need I remind you that you did not have any proper confession?!" Her verbal beating seemed to shake the noble, but he also was not too bothered. If anything, his expression turned to relief.
He gestured with his hands for her to quiet down, but it did little to calm the woman. Byleth herself felt the need to step in, "Peace, Lysithea. You realized that he cleared your name, right?" The point uprooted the mage's argument, but it was not enough to bring her ease.
Heeding her companion's call, Lysithea inhaled and exhaled. "I suppose, but did you not hear what that oaf said? You were referred to as Edelgard's aide. After the emperor herself, you're the most wanted person by the Kingdom. By referring to you as such, Sylvain has sealed your fate."
The redhead waved his hand at the implications. "Not necessarily. I mean, I should start by saying that I had no choice in that matter," he clarified, earning the attention of both females, "It is as you expected, dear professor. I have stuck my neck out for Lysithea and will have her freed from her cell in the coming day." The fact alone that the white-haired woman was bound to be freed was enough to please Byleth immeasurably. Nothing else truly mattered to her at that moment.
"And what did you mean by you had no choice in the matter?" Once again, it fell on Lysithea to clear her throat and demand for the man to explain himself further. As much as Byleth was stuck on the good news, she too also had questions on the other's wording.
Sylvain acknowledged the question, "While your story was accepted by both Lord Rodrigue and Sir Gwendal, Lady Cornelia had already convinced Sir Gwendal on Byleth. If I had tried to vouch for her, I might be suspected of subterfuge. Keep in mind, you would've immediately been suspected if I was detained." The man pinched the bridge of his nose and likely went about reflecting on his decisions.
His points did initially placate Lysithea, but it did not take long for the dots to connect. "Wait," her eyes were the size of saucers, "You believed us?" Considering how the man was trying to advocate for both prisoners, it did not seem like pity or covering up for his incompetence. "How? I mean... Why?"
"How was I supposed to react after seeing our teacher bawling her eyes out? Not believing a crying young lady such as Byleth would be a crime against nature." His line of reasoning was... in character. It caused both of the women to stare dumbly at him, wondering if they were comfortable with him as an ally. Regardless, they were not ones to look a gift horse in the mouth so to speak. It was a miracle to put it simply. Yet, his previous answer did open up a different problem. Byleth was unfamiliar with this Cornelia figure, oblivious of the woman's intentions. For a woman to think lowly of Sylvain's opinions, it had great precedent, but it was strange that she was the one to be a staunch advocate against the former professor. If anything, a wary Gwendal or a former ally may have been more set in her execution.
"How long do I have?" Byleth finally spoke up, at least wishing to have a time frame in mind. At any rate, the other's willingness to believe her diffused the bleakness in her. The taste of hope galvanized her into her original plan. She wanted to live for the sake of the Kingdom.
The redhead was not too pleased with the question. He averted his gaze toward the exit. "Two days. Lady Cornelia was very insistent that you were killed before a potential imperial attack on the base. The only reason it was not immediate is that Felix and Ingrid wished to have the chance to speak with you. Thankfully for us, Lord Rodrigue was willing to humor the request." Byleth found herself smiling at the prospect of seeing the two former students once again. Amongst those in the Blue Lion House, Felix was never deterred by the fact that they were in opposite classes to ask for a spar or lessons. She was less close with Ingrid than Felix or Sylvain, but the blonde was very earnest. Though, there was a chance that the five years had changed them.
The shred of hope was enough for Byleth to return to her cool. "... Two days. Did Rodrigue have any complaints on the matter?" The woman had a thought on how she might extend her sentence, but it hinged more on her luck.
"Actually, he had wished for there to be a delay until he had correspondence with the king. There was even the suggestion to send to Fhirdiad for execution." The redhead affirmed her suspicions. While she was not bold enough to think of it fact, she was also an advisor in more than just name alone. Her time at the officer's academy built her eye for strategy and protocol. She was by no means as skilled as her informant, but she did know that communication with the king for such a high profile prisoner was necessary. If anything, she knew that Rhea had made her own orders clear in having Byleth executed by the church on sight, either out of grudge or relating to her own body. So, sidestepping both the king and archbishop meant that a rushed execution may only invite problems.
That fact alone was what made Byleth believe there was something more than just wishing to kill her off before Edelgard could reclaim her. Such an assumption would mean that they may consider Arianrhod's future. It was a lot of information to consider, so much so that she dearly missed her informant. Unlike Lysithea, the other collaborator had a knack for politics. "I either have to appeal to Rodrigue to hold off on my execution or prove my innocence."
Sylvain absorbed her points attentively. "You would also need to prove your worth. As it stands, there are already many people that want you dead." His point was correct. Byleth chuckled to herself as she and many others often forgot the noble's intellect.
"For now, we should focus on convincing Felix to believe Byleth's case. He should be the best person to convince his father, right?" Lysithea chimed in, her own point seemed to earn an odd reaction from Sylvain however.
"To some extent, but I'm sure he will cave if Felix truly asserts himself. That guy is as stubborn as always. Aside from learning how to hold a conversation over than asking to spar, he really hasn't changed much." The redhead informed the two prisoners. His information certainly put the older woman at ease as she already knew how best to deal with Felix during his academy days.
Byleth found herself smirking, gladdened by how events were coming together so predictably. She knew this was not going to be the most difficult part of her integration into the Kingdom, but it very nearly and very likely could cost her a neck. "Then, it is clear now. We will see what tomorrow holds in store for us." The warmth of her hope made her change her mind. She was glad to no longer be a demon.