"Teach. Teach."
Byleth wakes with a start, her cheek pressed against something rough and papery. Yawning, she sits up, staring down at the textbook she's been using as a pillow, and fumbles around her desk for Seteth's teacup, grimacing at the now frigid temperature of the tea inside.
"Yes, Claude?" She tries to ask the question casually, as if falling asleep at her desk is a normal occurrence for her. "Do you need something?"
"Wild night?" Claude raises an eyebrow and Byleth sighs, dragging a hand across the side of her face. She must look terrible.
"No." Byleth sighs, rubbing her eyes. "And says you. Don't think I didn't see you last night." It was true. Byleth had been leaving the Goddess Tower after, well, everything, and there had stood Claude, kissing a blushing Dimitri in the shadows as if it would be the last kiss he ever had.
"I have no idea what you're referring to," Claude says, putting a hand over his heart. "In all seriousness, Teach… both me and His Princliness would prefer it if you… didn't go spreading that around."
"Why's that?" Byleth asks, leaning her chin on her hand. "I won't, of course," she adds quickly.
"Dimitri is… Well, that's a conversation for another time." Claude winks, but it feels half-hearted, and Byleth can't help wondering what's going on. Still, she doesn't press the subject, and adds it to her ever-growing list of Claude's unshared secrets. "The more pressing issue is what you did last night."
"Me?" Byleth scoffs, trying to sound nonchalant. All she'd done was share a wish at the Goddess Tower with a… friend. Was that such a crime? "Well, I doubt my night was more interesting than yours."
"Oh, don't deny it, Teach. I saw you up there, staring at Holy Father Seteth with that seductive gaze." Claude's grin deepens, and he leans his elbows on her desk, batting his eyelashes. "And you tried to tell me you had no time for romance."
"Claude." Byleth says his name reprimandingly. "I wasn't- I don't-" For some reason, she doesn't spit out an excuse, and she shuts her mouth. Romance? The very thought of it is so foreign, so unachievable… She's a cold-blooded killer! What does she know of love?
"I can help, you know. All joking aside." Claude looks at her with his best attempt at seriousness, and Byleth rolls her eyes, brushing away his words.
Still, she can't push away the feeling of Seteth's shoulder beneath her hand, the glint of his emerald eyes in the candlelight, the words that had stuck like a pin in her heart, making her blush every time she remembered them. I hope that my future has you in it.
Was love the reason for all the blushing? For the butterflies in her stomach? For the way his words bounce around in her mind all day? For the way she wants so desperately to be near him, to be by his side, to learn his secrets and to tell him all of hers?
Byleth has never known love. Maybe that's why it feels so strange to want it so badly.
"What help could you give me?" Byleth says the words teasingly, but a part of her is genuinely curious.
"Oh, come now, Teach, you know I'm your best shot." Claude sighs, shaking his head at her. "Now, don't take this the wrong way, but you can't deny that you're a bit… clueless at times."
"Clueless?" Byleth frowns. She isn't clueless. What does that even mean?
"I mean with all this… emotional stuff. You barely even smile yourself!" Claude waves a hand dramatically and Byleth can't decide whether or not to be offended by this bold, albeit truthful, statement. "You don't even see the way he looks at you."
"Who?" Byleth raises an eyebrow. "If you're going to keep talking in riddles, Claude, I'm going to-"
"Oh, for the Goddess's sake." Claude shakes his head. "This is what I'm talking about, Teach! You are in dire need of assistance. Let's go."
"Go where?" Byleth asks, but it's in vain, and before she registers what's happening, Claude has grabbed her elbow and is marching her out of the room and down the corridor, and she realizes she still has Seteth's teacup clenched tightly in her fingers.
After a bout of aimless walking, Byleth finds herself in the cathedral hidden behind a pillar, Claude at her side, shooting suspicious glances around the side of the stone every few minutes.
"What's going on, Claude? I have work to do," Byleth hisses, and Claude shushes her with a sharp look.
"We need her for this operation." Claude looks around the side of the pillar again and Byleth sighs, frustrated.
"Gods, Claude, if you're going to keep being so secretive, I'm going to-"
"I'm here!" Byleth is interrupted by the high sing-song pitch of Hilda, who suddenly appears at her side and shoves her over so that she too can fit behind the pillar.
"Quiet down, Hil! Subterfuge requires silence!" Claude winces at her echoing tone, and Byleth looks from one of her students to the other.
"What is going on?" she demands loudly, and is met with loud shushes from both of the Deer.
"Claude said he'd convince you to accept our help! Did you convince her, Claude?" Hilda smiles brightly, and Claude waves vaguely.
"Well… Yes. Sort of. But here we are, and here she is, and here- here he is! Get down!" Claude shoves Byleth and Hilda down to the ground and the three of them sit on the stone floor, huddled in a small sort of heap. "Time for phase one."
"Will someone please tell me-" Byleth begins, but Claude silences her with a sharp wave of his hand.
"No time, Teach. No time." Claude turns to Hilda, his tone lowering. "Is Teutates in position?"
"Affirmative," nods Hilda, and Byleth gives up trying to understand. Help? Hiding behind a pillar? Asking if a bloody fish is in position? Whatever this scheme is, Byleth is afraid of it.
"Alright, Teach. This is your moment. There's no better time than now. Seize the day. Live your dreams." Claude gives her an exaggerated thumbs-up and before Byleth can do anything, he's pulled her up to her feet and shoved her out from behind the pillar into the center of the cathedral, leaving her standing in the middle of the floor with not a clue in the world as to what the hell is going on.
"B-Byleth?"
No. This can't be happening. Byleth looks up tentatively and there stands Seteth, looking at her like she's gone crazy. At his side, Flayn waves brightly, her gaze focused on something beyond Byleth's shoulder.
"Hello, Flayn. Seteth." Byleth nods politely, making an internal vow to murder Claude and Hilda when she gets out of this conversation. "I was just- My students, they were-"
"Professor, would you like to go to lunch with us?" Flayn smiles sweetly, and Byleth looks up at Seteth just in time to catch his look of surprise.
"Flayn, I'm sure the Professor has plenty of work to do." Seteth coughs awkwardly, giving Byleth an apologetic smile.
"No, I- I'm free." Byleth keeps her gaze trained on Flayn so as not to accidentally look up at Seteth and lose herself in the brightness of his eyes. "I would enjoy lunch. With you."
"Oh. Well, in that case, I'd- we'd love to have you." Seteth smiles tightly and Byleth feels that strange sort of skip in her heartbeat again. Flayn suddenly claps so loudly that it sounds like a crash of thunder, and the sound echoes boldly through the high ceilings. Byleth wonders how on earth a human as small as Flayn could possibly make so loud of a noise. "Flayn? What on earth-"
Suddenly, as if they've just been summoned, Claude and Hilda shoot out from behind the pillar and are at Flayn's side in a flash of yellow and pink before Byleth can even register what's happening.
"Hey, Flayn!" Hilda enunciates the words like she's reading from a script, her tone oddly stilted. "We need your help!"
"There's an emergency at the Training Grounds. Lorenz was sparring and he, uh, set a fire!" Claude waves in the general direction of the Training Grounds, and Hilda elbows him sharply. Byleth may not be good at reading emotions, but she knows when she's being lied to, and she isn't sure whether she should be angry about it.
"A fire? At the Training Grounds?" Seteth's brow furrows, the concern plain on his face. "Well, I think that I should look into this."
"No!" Hilda steps in hurriedly, shaking her head vehemently. "We need Flayn. Only Flayn. To- to sing."
"Flayn can't sing." Seteth stares at Hilda like she's gone crazy, and Flayn suddenly steps in front of her brother, holding her small arms out on either side of her to block his path. "And how would singing help in this situation?"
"Stay where you are, Brother! I must save Lorenz through the power of song!" Flayn shouts, and then, before Byleth can blink, Claude and Hilda have whisked Flayn down the aisle and out of the cathedral, the three of them laughing their heads off all the while.
Byleth, to say the least, is utterly and completely embarrassed.
"I'm- I'm so sorry, Seteth, my students tend to... go overboard." Byleth wants to hide her face in her hands, and Seteth looks concernedly out the door.
"I think I should investigate the matter of this fire," he says absent-mindedly, and Byleth can't help herself. The serious look on his face is too much, and she laughs. "Hm? Do you not agree?" Seteth looks down at her sharply, and she puts a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter.
"Seteth, it's not a real fire. Claude and Hilda… well, they seem to think I need help." Byleth grins as Seteth's face relaxes, now more confused than concerned. How much of the Deer's whole 'plan' should she divulge?
"Help with what? I fail to see what you could gain from a fire in the Training Grounds," Seteth asks, and she sighs, shaking her head. Dare she tell him Claude's outlandish claims? Dare she mention the twinge that pulls at her heart every time she looks at him?
"They think I… that I need help with…" She can't do this. She can't bring herself to say it. "With romance."
"Romance?" Something flickers across Seteth's gaze, and he looks down at her intently. Byleth realizes that she's never noticed how short she feels next to his towering form.
"It doesn't matter. It's just another one of their pointless schemes," Byleth says, waving a hand almost manically, and Seteth raises an eyebrow.
"So your students have taken it upon themselves to deal with your… love life? By setting fires?" Seteth smiles slightly, and the sight of it makes Byleth feel hopelessly warm.
"Something like that," she says, suddenly realizing just how hungry she is. "Would you… still like to join me for lunch?"
"Of course!" Seteth says the words too quickly, and he flushes. "That is- yes, I would still like to. If you would also be willing."
"I would," Byleth says, and, a burst of courage overtaking her, she slowly links her arm through his, her fingers gently curling against the fabric of his coat. "Is this… is this alright?"
"Yes," Seteth breathes, and he puts his other hand over hers. Byleth can't help but notice that his fingers are shaking. "To the Dining Hall, then?"
"To the Dining Hall," Byleth repeats, and all they're doing is walking to lunch, a harmless meal, but for some reason, it feels like so much more. Like it's the start of something.
I would have danced all night.
On the morning of the Golden Deer's monthly mission, a simple investigation of a mysterious chapel, the sun has disappeared behind a thick layer of clouds, and Byleth wakes early to prepare her students' weapons. They're supposed to prepare their own, she knows that, and they do, but there's something about a person's weapon that feels so incredibly personal. Byleth feels like, maybe, picturing each one of them before they head to battle reminds her just a little of what she's fighting for. Who she's fighting for. Besides, this is just an investigation. They will most likely have no need for weapons.
The Training Grounds are deserted at this early hour, and she slowly sharpens the blade of Lorenz's lance, turning the worn wood in her hand. Lorenz. A noble. Sharp as a whip, with a biting wit that allows him to say what he thinks without holding back.
"Hey, is that you, kid?"
The rough timbre of the voice jolts her from her thoughts, and Byleth looks up to see Jeralt standing in front of her, shaking his head with a knowing grin on his face.
"Should've known I'd find you out here." Jeralt sits down on the bench next to her, running a hand through his shorn blond hair. "Ready?"
"Almost," Byleth says quietly, putting the lance down beside her. "Are you?"
"Ah, come on, do you really have to ask? I'm always ready for a fight." Jeralt laughs, a deep, belly-aching chuckle that brings her thoughts back to a time of late nights in pubs, learning to hold a sword, fighting back-to-back with the Blade Breaker. "How've you been holding up, kid?"
"Good. I've been good," Byleth says, and she has been. "I like it here, Jeralt. I like teaching, and I like… the people."
"I'll bet you do." Jeralt winks at her, and Byleth frowns. "Oh, don't be like that. I saw you, that night, dancing all night like you're one of those haughty nobles."
"Now that's an insult," Byleth says, earning another laugh from Jeralt. "And I was just having a little fun. Fighting isn't all I do, you know."
"Oh, I know." Jeralt grins again. "You have late-night meet-ups in dark towers, too."
"Have you been following me?" Byleth frowns. Of course Jeralt wants to talk about that. It seems everyone in this whole monastery does.
"No, no, nothing like that. Do you like him?" Jeralt's face turns more serious, and Byleth wants to laugh, or maybe cry from embarrassment. This conversation is unlike any other she's had with her father, and it's extremely strange.
"Like who?" Byleth asks, even though she knows the answer.
"Seteth." Byleth starts to speak, but Jeralt interrupts her protestations. "I'll take that as a yes, then."
"He is a perfectly respectable person," Byleth says flatly, and Jeralt raises an eyebrow. "Oh, stop. He's… I don't know what you want me to say. You and I both know what I'm like."
"You'll know, when you know." Jeralt smiles, leaning back with the faraway gaze that Byleth knows means he's thinking about her. About Sitri. "When it's right. I know we're both more comfortable with blades than with flowers, but when I met her, it was… It was different. I was different." Jeralt laughs, and Byleth isn't sure why the words seem to touch her heart. "Look at me, getting all sappy."
"When did the Blade Breaker turn so soft?" Byleth jabs, and Jeralt laughs.
"You're like her in a lot of ways, you know. I know you think you're all edges, like me, but you've got a good heart, kid. Make sure you trust who's hands you put it in." Jeralt smiles at her, a real, genuine smile, and Byleth nods. She's about to say more when suddenly, out of nowhere, Alois appears, covered head-to-toe in armor and looking like he's just run a marathon.
"Captain! Professor! I'm so glad you're here! There are reports of Demonic Beasts around the chapel!" Alois pants in between his words and both Byleth and Jeralt rise to their feet, exchanging a look.
"Demonic Beasts?" The whiplash of switching from talking about love to war sends Byleth's head spinning, and she wills herself to focus. "I'll get my students."
"Where did they come from?" asks Jeralt, and Alois shrugs.
"I'm on my way there now! Will you two be accompanying me?" Alois looks from Byleth to Jeralt like he's somehow doubtful they'll come to their own mission, and Byleth sighs.
"Of course we will. We've both sworn to protect this monastery." Jeralt looks at Byleth. "You sure your students are up for this?"
"They're up for anything," Byleth says, nodding, and with one last look at her father, Byleth turns and leaves the Training Ground, breaking into a run. It seems there will be need for weapons.
The battle is like any other, the air thick with blood and the clashing of blades and the grunts of the four ravenous beasts that stalk the courtyard, each of them heading for their a cowering student.
The Golden Deer fight with skill, each of them using their respective skills to take down the beasts. Magic flies in all directions, and Byleth can't help but swell with pride as she watches them: Marianne rushing to Hilda's side to surround her with healing magic, Lorenz covering Ignatz as he refills his bow, Lysithea successfully casting a rather difficult spell.
To Byleth's horror, somehow the growling beasts transform into Academy students once defeated, and the whole class freezes after the first one is discovered, staring down at the boy's lifeless form that they have just murdered in cold blood. It's all too much of a mystery, full of far too many unanswered questions to even begin to consider them all, and so she throws herself into the fighting, focusing on taking down each and every beast in her path and trying to push down the nagging reality that they are, in fact, students. Soon, all have transformed back into their human forms, and Byleth and her students stand among the carnage, looking down at their bloody weapons in shock.
"We killed 'em," Raphael says finally, his big voice booming through the battlefield. "We killed 'em all."
"Not all," Byleth says quietly, pointing out the shivering children that were being targeted by the beasts, by their fellow students, and suddenly, something in the corner of her vision makes her turn sharply.
Jeralt is speaking with one of the students, a girl with deep burgundy hair, and Byleth recognizes her immediately as Monica, the student she found when the Deer had rescued Flayn.
The girl is saying something, something Byleth can't hear, and she steps closer, something about the girl's countenance making her entirely uneasy. She walks quicker, the scent of rusty blood choking her breath, and she's almost where when suddenly, inexplicably, something that's only happened in Byleth's worst nightmares knocks the breath from her body, makes her clutch her heart as if it's just been torn out of her chest.
Monica shoves a knife into Jeralt's back and Byleth's father falls to the ground, making a horrible choking sound that makes Byleth's vision turn black with rage.
What happens next is nothing more than a blur.
Divine Pulse. A blade, drawn. A pale man blocking her path. Words of destiny and fate. Rain. And Jeralt, strong, invincible, good Jeralt, lying on the cobblestones with a gaze cold and unseeing.
Byleth is at his side before she even knows it herself, feeling overcome by more emotion then she's ever felt in her life, and her tears mingle with the rain, falling onto her father's lifeless body.
Something has broken inside her, and she holds onto Jeralt's body until Claude drags her away, unable to keep the tears at bay.
To think the first time I saw you cry… your tears would be for me. It's sad… and yet I'm happy for it. Thank you, kid.
She has known love, Byleth realizes. And now the one person in this world who loved her is gone.
By the time they return back to Byleth's quarters, she is completely numb and unfeeling. Claude doesn't say a word as he walks her to the door and opens it for her, and when she looks back at him, there are tears shining in his eyes, too.
She doesn't say anything. She shuts the door in his face.
She spends the next day and the day after in her room, tucked into a corner and staring at nothing. She doesn't eat. Doesn't sleep. She just sits there, remembering Jeralt's cold gaze and wondering what happened to his easy smile and joyful laughter.
It's late afternoon when someone finally comes. A sharp knock at the door makes Byleth curl farther into the corner, and she doesn't make a sound, doesn't yell 'come in' or even move in the direction of the door.
It opens, and someone stands in the doorway. She doesn't look up at them.
"Byleth?"
Her mind doesn't work. She can't make out the voice, and she still doesn't raise her gaze. It feels like she's underwater, like she's drowning. This isn't real. This isn't real.
Footsteps echo across her wooden floor, and she doesn't move. Gently, the floor creaks, and someone kneels in front of her. She doesn't look up.
"Say the word, and I will leave you in peace."
She knows this voice, doesn't she? Yes, she does. Byleth looks up now, her gaze flat. She hasn't cried since she left the body.
Seteth is kneeling before her, his eyes glistening with tears, and she realizes this is the first time she's ever seen him cry.
"Stay." She stares him straight in the eyes, her heart weighed down by every ounce of the thick, choking grief she holds within her. "Please stay."
"Of course," Seteth says, his expression full of a deep sadness Byleth has never seen before. "Whatever you wish, you need only say it."
"Seteth…" Her voice is hoarse, shivering like a broken bird, and she tries to steady herself, taking deep breaths. It's sad, and yet… I'm happy for it. "Seteth, he's gone. She- she killed him."
"I know." Seteth's gaze falls to the floor, his head bowed. "Oh, Byleth, I know."
"It was my- it was my fault." Byleth shakes her head, and she cannot keep the tears at bay any longer. They spill from her eyes, traveling down familiar tracks across her cheeks, and before she knows it, her voice is choked by racking sobs that shake her whole body, every whisper of self-control escaping her. "I could have saved him, I could have-"
"You did everything right." Seteth suddenly reaches out and takes Byleth in his arms, enveloping her in his embrace, and Byleth crumples against his chest. "This is not your fault."
"He can't be gone. He can't." Byleth weeps, her tears staining Seteth's jacket, and she buries her face into the fabric. "He was… we had so much more time. I don't know how to be without him."
"I know." Seteth whispers the words against her hair, cradling her in his arms, and Byleth is certain she should stop crying but she isn't sure how and everything inside her feels broken and she doesn't know how one can put themselves back together again. "It is never enough, what we have with those we love. I know what you're feeling, and it is the worst of pain."
"When does it get better?" Byleth can barely see through her tears, and her heart aches. "When can I think of him without feeling like I've been snapped in half?"
"You will never be fully whole." Seteth sighs, and she feels his chest rise and fall with his breath. "There will always be a part of you that feels that ache, but you will find something to hold on to, and that something, that someone, will give you a reason to fight, a reason to remember and a reason to move on."
"Was it Flayn?" Byleth draws in a shuddering breath, frozen in Seteth's arms. "Was she your reason?"
"Yes," Seteth says.
The two of them sit like that for an hour, Byleth held tightly in his embrace, her sobs slowly quieting to silent tears, and Seteth stays with her, holding her as if she's the most important thing in the world. Finally, he speaks, breaking the silence, and she looks up at him through a tear-streaked gaze.
"Whatever you need, whenever you need it… I will be here." Seteth looks at her with a sincerity that pulls at her heart, and she blinks more tears out of her eyes.
"Thank you," Byleth whispers, and she truly means it. "Thank you for all of it."
By the time Seteth finally leaves, the day has bled into night, and Byleth lies in bed, thinking of all that she's lost.
But when she dreams, when she at last falls asleep, she dreams of sparring with her father, young enough to barely even know yet how to walk, laughing as she hit her little wooden sword against his own, and the parts of her that are broken feel a little less so.
A/N: Ahhhh I'm sorry for this but you knew it was coming! I definitely had to break out the sad songs playlist for this one :( I promise happier times in the future :)
As always, thank you ever so much for reading! I appreciate it more than you know.
Sending my love!
xo Ever