Byleth let her feet dangle over the dock. The Monastery was silent this early morning, save the gentle sound of the waterfall before her and a few chirps from the birds that nestled nearby.

It was a perfect time for the archbishop to be alone.

Even with the war two years behind her, there wasn't a moment that she could take during her day to just breathe. From when she got up to when she collapsed back onto her pillow, her day was filled with missives, people, meetings, and prayer. So, when she awoke before the sun this morning, she took it upon herself to find a place to sit in silence.

The pond was a good place as any, even if it was a little chilly on this early autumn morning. The Horsebow Moon seemingly had snuck up on Byleth. She couldn't believe her birthday would be upon her so soon. Life seemed to be moving too quickly and yet not quickly enough.

The pool in front of her was dark, so dark that she could hardly see her reflection even with the small lantern she brought with her. Byleth stared down at it anyway. She watched as the ripples hit the dock, wondering just what fish were swimming in the depths. When was the last time she held a rod in her hand? Seven years ago, life almost seemed easier, and it probably was. War took away her hobbies and even after that was done, her duty to the church and surrounding kingdoms left her with little free time anyway. Byleth let the tip of her boot skim the water, sighing and scaring away any lost fish.

"Is it not too early to try and catch anything?" The sudden sound made Byleth jump, but she knew who surprised her. Only the smallest of smiles graced her lips as she patted the wood beside her. The archbishop's advisor first unbuttoned his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders before leaning over, trying, though failing, to hide a yawn as he settled next to her.

Byleth curled her hands into the cloak and turned to thank him. She paused when she saw the tired look in his eyes. "Did you sleep at all, Seteth?" she wondered, watching as he scrubbed a hand over his face. She looked him up and down and noted that he had not changed from the same dark blue robes he was wearing the day before. She remembered, even though the meeting was brief. They hardly had time for each other these days.

"Not at all. In fact, I just finished the last of yesterday's reports." Seteth stifled another yawn behind his hand. "No doubt in just a few hours, I will be handed today's stack."

Byleth just raised an eyebrow. Seteth waved a hand her way. "Work never ends."

"It does if you let it." Byleth inched closer to him, threading her hand in his hair, and with a small nudge he sighed and let her press him against her shoulder. It was an almost awkward position as he was taller than her even sitting down, but she relished breathing him in. He always smelled like the earth, ink, and ginger, one of his favorite teas.

"Hardly suitable for the archbishop and her advisor to be so close like this."

"Oh, hush. It's too early for anyone to see." And she was right, there wasn't another soul around, and wouldn't be for another hour at least. Seteth sighed again but wrapped an arm around her waist anyway. Byleth let herself be absorbed into the warmth of him a moment before saying, "I think there's more to your sleeplessness than work."

"Oh?"

Byleth hummed and scratched a hand through his moss-colored hair. She let her fingers play with the strands a little, feeling Seteth allow more and more of his weight to rest on her shoulder before finally responding with words. "I know who is keeping you awake, I should say."

Seteth sat up, and Byleth missed him already. He was looking down at the water, still dark and blue. "I do not know who you are speaking of."

Byleth let out a small chuckle and took one of his hands in her own, letting their fingers intertwine and her thumb leave circles on his skin. "It's okay to worry."

"I'm not," Seteth said simply. He wouldn't look at her, so she knew he was lying. "I have just been so busy and so my sleep schedule—"

"I know you, and I know a few reports from the village didn't keep you awake all night." She watched as his shoulders drooped. "I could see it in your eyes during the meeting yesterday, with the messenger from Fhirdiad, that you haven't been sleeping for maybe a few days now."

"I have."

"Not any sleep that's worth it," she relented. She squeezed his hand, and he finally turned to her, and she could just make out the bags under his eyes in the low light of the lantern. "She will be fine, love."

"Will she be?" Seteth frowned. "I have never been away from her in all her days."

"I know."

"She left without a word."

"I know." Byleth let go of his hand and rested her palm on his cheek. Seteth leaned into it. "Flayn was ready to leave. To start her own life."

"I feel as if she has abandoned her old father and will eventually forget about me."

"Flayn would never. I wouldn't allow it." Byleth let the corners of her mouth shift up and Seteth matched. "She'll be to visit after she has had her own adventures to tell us." Seteth's smile fell, and she could practically feel the worrying thoughts invade her through him. She tried to think any comforting words, or something to lift his spirit.

She had a sudden idea. "Would you like me to pray for her?"

That earned her a snort. It was hastily covered with a cough when Seteth saw her mock hurt expression. "I am sorry, my love, but you? Pray?"

Byleth let the pout work into her voice as she said, "I am the archbishop."

"Byleth, I do not think I have ever heard you pray outside the cathedral or any events where you are needed to."

"Then you must not be listening." Byleth let her smile grow. "In fact, just the other day while we were walking to our meeting with Alois I prayed."

Seteth thought a moment and then laughed again. "You hit your elbow against the door jamb to your office."

"And what did I say?" Byleth rubbed the spot. It no longer hurt. "'Oh, Goddess above.'"

"That is hardly a prayer, more a curse." Seteth eyed her with a smile that he used only when they were alone. Teasing and full of mirth. "And that's blasphemous coming from the archbishop herself."

Byleth shrugged. "It started off a prayer. I do pray."

Seteth kept the smile but looked down again. Byleth could see the water lightening up with the sky and knew they didn't have as much time as she would want to sit and enjoy each other's company. "Well, let me say one for Flayn anyway. She will be my stepdaughter soon enough and it would bring me a measure of comfort to know Sothis is watching over her."

Seteth suddenly lowered his voice. "You remember the Goddess really is not watching the people of Fodlan any longer, correct? You happen to be the reason for that."

"She sees what I see," Byleth said confidently. "And I see a father who is greatly worried about his daughter."

Seteth's eyes widened a little as if he had not thought about it that way. After a moment he finally gave Byleth a small nod. She smiled and folded her hands in front of her, head bowed, and eyes closed. The cloak Seteth had given her wrapped itself around her fully as she leaned over, leaving just her clasped hands poking out. She took in a small breath. "Dear Sothis—"

Another fit of laughter and covered coughing interrupted her. "Are you writing a letter to the heavens?" he asked.

She shushed him, peeking one eye open. "The Goddess looks down upon those who disturb a person in prayer," she said, though sure that wasn't really a rule or anything at all. She waited until she saw Seteth try to hold in his smile and nod once more.

She closed her eye. "Dear Sothis," she said again, "please watch over those of us who travel on this good earth alone or in the company of another. As the daughter of a worried father and her—" what should she call the person who Seteth had exclaimed a week prior had stolen his daughter away from him? — "companion," she decided on, "trek about this life, guide their thoughts and…well, their feet—" another snort from her fiancé next to her— "from harm."

Byleth paused. She heard Seteth sigh softly, knowing he still worried for Flayn. If she hadn't held her hands together in prayer she'd reach for his. She continued.

"Sweet Sothis, as You are listening, I call upon Thee, please, and ask that You bless and grant dear old Saint Cichol rest." There was a small gasp, and she could hear the complaint of using his true name (so loudly, and in public!) start to bubble up past his lips, so she pushed on, pointedly. "Know that there is no one around us and that it is only myself and my advisor who can hear this letter to the heavens, so no secrets have been divulged to the whole of Fodlan. Watch over dear Saint Cethleann and let her know that we love her and think of her dearly every day and, apparently, every night. May You lead her home when she feels the time is right." She let a smile enfold onto her lips as she finished, "thanks for listening."

She unclasped her hands and looked over to see Seteth's growing smile, and a shine in his eyes. She wondered if he were on the verge of tears if his voice wasn't so full of laughter. "A…unique way to end a prayer."

"The only way I know how," she replied with a small laugh. She wrapped an arm around him and pulled herself flush against him. "Feeling any less worried?"

Byleth felt his lips press briefly on her forehead before he rested his chin on the crown of her mint-colored hair. "A little. I'm sure the Goddess will watch over Flayn and bring her to us as you say."

"I'm sure of it too, Saint Cichol."

He sighed. "Sometimes I wonder if I do regret telling you my true name."

"I actually do not think you do." Byleth pulled away but not before laying a gentle kiss to his neck, listening as his breath hitched in his chest. She put on her stern face, and shook a finger at her advisor. "Now we may be caught here in the open so there is no more of this until I see you again at dinner."

Byleth's small smile grew a little at Seteth's pout. She pulled herself up from the dock, using one free hand to help Seteth onto his feet as well. Passing him the slowly dying lantern, she held onto his hand a little longer as they walked, the sun burning the stone of Garreg Mach's walls orange. When they reached the doors of the archbishop's chamber, she squeezed his fingers. He looked down at her as she said, "have faith, Seteth."

"I will, Byleth." He pulled her in for a quick, soft kiss before straightening up and turning away. Byleth held his cloak close to her as she watched him go down the hall and disappear down the stairs, before turning to her own door. Steeling herself for the busy morning she was sure to have.