Hubert…

Um… so you just want me to switch my name and Edelgard's, then…?

If that's all I need to do to prevent you from sending this to my Father… I'll do it!

~B V Varley


Bernadetta,

I received your manuscript and finished my reading of it today. "Fifty Shades of Crimson" is quite apropos for a title, although our reader might find some of the defloration and pregnancy play somewhat… beyond the pale.

But since it is your… transformative fiction – I am happy to accept it as it stands. Allow me to switch the names and present abridged selections for our very interested reader.

If you happen to be willing to accept a personal request, however… please add a scene where the Professor is violently making love to you and expressing his intent to eventually discard you for Lady Edelgard. Otherwise... I may be forced to send a copy of this to the Minister of Religious Affairs, after all.

You have my thanks.

Sincerely,

Hubert V. Vestra


5/23/1180

Cardinal,

I have transcribed another page of the Princess's diary.

I must insist that you act quickly to remove Professor Eisner before disaster strikes.

-Marquis d'Alleil, your anonymous admirer


Kiss me, Byleth!

I implore him, but I can't move. I'm paralyzed with a strange, unfamiliar need, completely captivated by him. I'm staring at My Teacher's mouth, mesmerized, and he's looking down at me, his gaze hooded, his eyes darkening. He's breathing harder than usual, perhaps because he's finished ejaculating inside me – raw – and I've stopped breathing altogether. I'm in your arms. Kiss me, please. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and gives me a small shake of his head as if in answer to my silent question. When he opens his eyes again, it's with some new purpose, a steely resolve.

"Edelgard, you're my student… and I'm your teacher…" he whispers. What? Where is this coming from? Surely that's the best part…!

I frown, and my head swims with rejection.

"I can never love you. My heart beats only for Flayn." he says quietly, and he gently pushes me away, his member taking leave of me and exposing my entire soul to the bitter winds of Garegg Mach.

Still. adrenaline has been spiking through my body, but not from the vomiting or the heady proximity to Lady Rhea, who watched us in silence as he took me…

Absolutely Not!

My psyche screams that as he refastens his pants, leaving me with my bloomers around my ankles and dripping droplets of his hot, virile seed onto the freezing wooden porch. He has kept his other hand firm around my neck, holding me at arm's length, carefully watching my reactions. And the only thing I can think is that I wanted to be kissed, made it pretty damned obvious, and that he refused to do it in spite of spending the last twenty minutes of High Holiday ravishing on the patio of Celica's Bar in front of Lady Rhea.

It's also very risky today.

Still, he doesn't want me. He really doesn't want me as a lover, just as a tool to be used. And… it leads me to believe that I've royally screwed up all the Maid Cafe fetish play, haven't I…?

"We don't need to love each other," I breathe, finding my voice. "This is fine, thank you..." I mutter, awash with humiliation. How could I have misread the situation between us so utterly? I need to get away from him.

"For what?" He frowns. He hasn't taken his hands off me.

"For not stopping when Lady Rhea witnessed us…" I whisper.

"The Archbishop fears my power." He says as he releases me, his hands by his sides.

And I'm standing in front of him, naked from the waste down and feeling like a fool.

With a shake, I clear my head. I just want to go. All my vague, unarticulated hopes have been dashed. He doesn't love me. What was I thinking? I scold myself. What would Byleth Eisner want with you, Edelgard von Hresvelg? my subconscious mocks me. I wrap my arms around myself and turn to face the stairs and note with relief that the green-haired woman has disappeared. I quickly make my way back down, conscious that My Teacher is behind me. We walk back to my dormitory in complete silence. Outside my door, I turn briefly to face him but cannot look him in the eye.

"Thanks for everything." I murmur.

"Edelgard … I …" He stops, and the anguish in his voice demands my attention, so I peer unwillingly up at him. His teal eyes are blank as he runs his hand through his hair. He looks torn, frustrated, his expression stark, all his careful control has evaporated.

"What, My Teacher?" I snap irritably after he says … nothing. I just want to go. I need to take my fragile, wounded pride away and somehow nurse it back to health.

"Good luck with the mission." he murmurs.

Huh? This is why he looks so desolate? This is the big sendoff? Just to wish me luck in the battle against the bandits that we'll be fighting in together?

"Thanks." I can't disguise the sarcasm in my voice. "Good-bye, Professor Eisner." I turn on my heel, vaguely amazed that I don't trip, and without giving him a second glance, I disappear behind my door.

Once underneath the vermillion sheets of my bed, staring up at the ceiling adorned with hand-drawn portraits of My Teacher illuminated by bleak, muddy candlelight, I turn my head, bang it into the wall in an attempt to restore my sanity, and then gently place it in my hands.

What was I thinking? Unbidden and unwelcome tears pool in my eyes. Why am I crying? I'm irrevocably angry at myself for this senseless reaction. Drawing up my knees, I fold in on myself. I want to make myself as small as possible. Perhaps this nonsensical pain will be smaller the smaller I am. Placing my head on my knees, I let the irrational tears fall unrestrained. I am crying over the loss of something I never had. How ridiculous. Mourning something that never was—my dashed hopes, my dashed dreams, and my soured expectations.

I have never been on the receiving end of rejection.

Romantically, though, I've never put myself out there, ever. A lifetime of insecurity—I'm too pale, too skinny, too scarred, uncoordinated, my long list of faults goes on. So I have always been the one to rebuff any would-be admirers, or at least instruct Hubert to do so. There was that blonde boy in Fhirdiad who liked me, but no one has ever truly sparked my interest—no one except Byleth Damn Eisner. Maybe I should be kinder to the likes of Hubert von Vestra and Syvlain José Gautier, though I'm sure neither of them has been found sobbing alone in dark places. Perhaps I just need a good cry.

Stop! Stop now! my subconscious is metaphorically screaming at me, arms folded, leaning on one leg and tapping her foot in frustration. Get in the carriage, return to Enbarr, do your studying remotely. Forget about him … Now! And stop all this self-pitying, wallowing crap.

I take a deep, steadying breath and stand up. Get it together, Hresvelg. I will not think of him again. I can just chalk this incident up to experience and concentrate on my mission.


Bernie,

I had a feeling that Hubert put you up to this…

But, now that I know, and that we've dealt with your Father… Could you send me the rest…? I probably won't have the time to read until I find Byleth again, but – you're an excellent writer!

I quite enjoyed your depiction of the events at Celica's, although the part regarding me crying alone in my dormitory was most out-of-character. I'm certainly willing to understand and accept that as a dramatic device, of course.

Naturally there is also the quip of Byleth's heart beating for FLAYN, which again is patently untrue – he doesn't have a heart, and he told me that if he did – it would only beat for me, of course.

Perhaps… you could make him feel very conflicted about his heart beating for me in the story – because I think him having a heart in that one would make everything far less uncanny. What if he's being very reticent about acknowledging that he's in love with me when he very clearly is in love with me and was always, from the very first moment we met?

That's just my suggestion, of course…

But I think it would make for a very good story. I would certainly read it!

Sincerely,

Edelgard


Author's Note:

Apologies for the long delay between chapters. As it happens, I ended up getting the coof. Thought I'd at least have the opportunity to edit, but it really knocked me on my ass until Thursday. For the record, I was jabbed but not boosted – so maybe that's fate telling me to not play fast and loose with immunization.

In any event, to PRT Numerical Reply King:

Those are all great ideas, my friend. Have you considered writing your own fanfic?

Sadly Jeralt is going to spread out in blood eagle by his own son in this re-telling. You don't truly love your wife unless you're willing to murder BOTH your parents in order to win her love, and he manages to team up with El to put down Mommy Sitri in Cindered Shadows.

Now... before you start up on that next 1400 word review in reply to that statement... consider this my friend... Might I be trolling you? Will you still be reading 800,000+ words in the future... there's only one way to find out, I suppose!

To Winter:

Edelgard is bisexual, and Bylad will eventually be Edelgard-sexual... perhaps after acquiring a certain whipsword... so there might be something like that coming down the pike.