They had travelled back to the main bulk of the army together, along with the Empress. It seemed Edelgard wasn't content with letting them out of sight just yet. She seemed to be quite restless, weighed down by both anger and guilt following the attack. Now and again Byleth would catch her staring into space, a pained expression upon her face. The woman had the weight of the Empire on her shoulders, and it looked like the prospect of losing her two closest friends had pushed her to near breaking point.

Arianrhod was lost. A stronghold could no longer be salvaged from the ruins and so, after leaving a force to deal with the wounded, they planned to continue the march towards Fhirdiad. The camp was still. The usual rambunctious comradery that had riled up the soldier's spirits had fallen mute. Many sat in groups, heads low, mumbling and fretting over the aftermath of the attack, stoking the fire, and sharing stories of those lost. Others trained viciously, venting their frustrations upon the training dummies and each other. One thing was certain though, no revelries or celebrations took place that evening.

"I just… can't even fathom what my uncle was thinking – such a cruel and unwarranted display of power." Edelgard removed her crown, her hair kinked and falling to her waist. She threw it to her desk, eyes wavering on her two exhausted advisors. "We are on the same side, for now, what did he hope to accomplish with this? Morale is low, and my army down in numbers, not to mention those we left at Arianrhod to deal with the aftermath. To so frivolously murder your allies…"

If it wasn't for the chill of the frosty air of Faerghus, Byleth may have found herself dropping asleep where she stood. The assault on the fortress, the near-death of her lover, finding out she was carrying his child. It had taken its toll, and she found herself devoid of emotion and words. Too much had happened at once, and she hadn't had a moment's rest to decompress or arrange her thoughts.

"Revenge for dispatching Cornelia, no doubt," Hubert said. His voice was confident, but she could tell he was just as tired. "He wants us to know that such deeds to not go unpunished. Though we haven't given Lord Arundel much chance to think otherwise, he must suspect that we plan to turn on him after the war is won. Such a display of power was a means to make us falter on that choice."

Edelgard nodded. "We must keep this knowledge strictly between us. If word got out, I doubt we'd be able to recover morale."

"I agree."

"Hubert, the investigation you made into the legend of Ailell, the Valley of Torment... It is likely what took place back then as well."

"Yes… the probability is high."

"This has happened before?" Byleth asked. It piqued her curiosity, snapping her mind back.

"You recall the valley of torment. Once, javelins of light fell from the sky there... We believed it may have been the work of the goddess, but... It was an attack by those who slither in the dark. That sums up all that we know." Hubert replied listlessly.

"I see. So, what is stopping them from using it against Enbarr, or one of the other capital cities?" Byleth asked.

"According to our investigation, it is not something that can be used in quick succession. So, we have time to our advantage. Range may be an issue for them, but we have yet to acquire more details."

"I was hoping we would have some reprieve after Fhridiad," she sighed.

"This will be a war waged in the shadows… A silent war. One under the noses of commoners and nobles alike, and yet, one of the most pivotal. We cannot fail," He spoke as if it had already begun.

"Yes," Edelgard replied, "It will need to be handled delicately. I will not allow another Arianrhod." She went to speak again but halted, it was like a fog had lifted from her eyes – her features softened. "You two must be exhausted. Take the rest of the evening off. It has been selfish of me to make you carry on your duties after all that's happened, you could do with the rest."

Byleth visibly relaxed.

Hubert grimaced. "I assure you, I'm perfectly capable, even in this state."

"That's an order, Hubert," Edelgard replied sternly.

Byleth grabbed his hand, turning to walk out of the tent, "I don't know about you, but I could do with a bath."

He allowed her to guide him, showing little resistance. "That… does sound like a good idea, actually."

They bid their farewell to Edelgard before heading over to the bathing tents. They lit a small torch outside one to indicate that it was occupied as they headed in. They hadn't bathed together before now, but neither seemed anxious or over-eager. They were simply both exhausted and craving time alone together. After lighting a few candles, they helped one other undress, peppering each other with kisses as they went.

The water was tepid, not cold enough to be uncomfortable, but enough for goosebumps to shimmer down her arms. She sat between his legs, resting her back against his chest.

He brought his forearms to rest across her chest, lingering upon on the scar left by Failnought. It still ached now and again. At the time, her wound was so grave that there was only so much the healers could do. Now she was left with an ugly sprawling scar, like crackles of red lightning across her skin.

He groped her inappropriately. "Hubert!" she gasped with a laugh, sending a splash of water towards his face.

He chuckled in response, pulling his arms tighter around her. He rested his head in the crook of her neck, enjoying her flustered reaction. They stayed like that for a short time, enjoying the moment.

"Would you like me to wash your hair?" he asked.

She giggled before humming a grateful response, closing her eyes to enjoy the sentiment as she heard him pick up a wooden jug from the sideboard. She felt his fingers below her jawline, tipping her head up a little. The cold air nipped at her exposed neck.

"You know… This would be the ideal time to assassinate me."

"Perhaps, but it would be a shame to bloody our bathwater," he teased back, letting his fingers trail down, halting at her collar bone.

His actions were sweet, gentle, and concise. Taking care not to allow any water to trickle into her eyes as it flowed through her hair. His other hand wandered through, dislodging all the ash and dust from her scalp.

"It feels nice… You're good at this," she said, feeling her body unwind.

"I surprise myself… I believe the last time I poured water over someone was during an interrogation." The way it was said was not in regret or malice, merely a state of facts.

Byleth raised an eyebrow.

She often let it slip her mind that Hubert was, in truth, not a good person. He had done despicable things in his lifetime; most she would never find out about. The fact that he could so casually bring up waterboarding a prisoner, whilst lovingly washing her hair, made her even more aware of his background. A strange disconnect.

"Apologies," he mumbled, "that… was terribly inappropriate."

She felt herself soften as another rush of water flowed through her hair. "I don't think anything you say can surprise me anymore. Besides, we all have blood on our hands. Isn't that the nature of war?"

"Quite. I find it rather… comforting to have someone I can speak freely to."

She hummed in agreement, taking the wooden jug from his hand. "My turn," she said readily, wanting to return the favour.

He huffed, allowing her to tilt his head back. His body had many scars, yet the ones from earlier in the day stood out to her. A reminder that she had almost lost him. Byleth ran her fingers through his black hair, sweeping it back before gently pouring the water over it.

He didn't close his eyes, even in his state and surroundings, he couldn't allow himself a moment of weakness. The dagger sitting ready on the table beside them spoke as much. She tried to recall a time when he had truly let his guard down, but it seemed such a moment had yet to pass. Even whilst sleeping he would jolt awake at the slightest noise.

She felt fortunate that he was unconscious when she cried his name after the walls fell. Fortunate that he did not hear her weep for his life in the most visceral way one could scream. All he had seen was the tear-streaked aftermath. She still felt like she was living in a fever dream, one she dearly wished to never rouse from. As if she could wake up at any moment… and he would be gone.

He turned, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek, "Hm? Are you alright?"

She watched him through a blur of tears, "… It's been a long, trying day."

He pulled her into his lap, holding her close. "I know."

"Are you in much pain?" She asked, but she knew he was. Sometimes catching him flinch out of the corner of her eye.

"… Nothing I cannot handle."

"I… can't believe." She took a moment to brush away the tears. "I can't believe I nearly lost you."

"I understand what it's like, I've almost lost you twice over."

"How did you deal with it?"

"Admittedly the first time, badly. As you can likely recall…" he huffed a laugh, "The second, well, let's just say that I don't intend to let it happen again."

"Hm? What do you mean by that?"

"I thought the reason a trifle obvious. But I suppose I ought to spell it out. I cannot allow you to fight on the front lines from now on."

"This sounds awfully familiar," she replied bluntly, sadness being overtaken by defiance.

"You're too careless in your actions, you're a liability to yourself."

"Excuse me?" She stood up.

Even though she was stark naked, his eyes never wavered from hers. "You are not risking yours, or the life of our child on the battlefield. I find it surprising that I even have to tell you this."

"Our child won't have a life if we lose this war."

"If you were as clever as you are obstinate, we probably would have won the war by now," he scolded.

"How dare you!" She swooped up a jug of water, emptying it over this head.

He coughed, wiping the water from his face. "I most likely deserve that. I find myself becoming quite partial to your divine wrath… my love."

"You can't charm your way out of this one," she replied with a wicked grin, filling the jug with water again.

"A shame indeed. Do believe me when I say, you put the fear of the goddess in me more than the church ever has."


Edelgard exhaled drowsily, leaning back in her chair, flinging the documents onto the small desk. She pinched the bridge of her nose, finding it gave a small release to her headache. She was finding it difficult to concentrate through the incessant planning, not to mention the emotional anguish that bubbled beneath her every decision. She side-eyed the horned crown that led tilted upon the table. Such a heavy, cumbersome ornament. The relief was always there whenever it was removed.

Edelgard knew that both her precious advisers would give their lives for her cause in a heartbeat, and that's what caused her the most heartache. Hubert was likely the reason she had made it this far, and Byleth the reason why she even cared to think about it.

From where she was positioned when the javelins of light fell on Arianrhod, she was certain they were dead. Even from that distance she still felt the shockwaves rattle her bones and heard the roar of the walls falling. To find them both alive afterwards… it was nothing short of a miracle. If she were devout, there would be no doubt that it was by the blessing of the goddess that they both lived. And then there was the child.

She sighed, and as on cue with her thoughts, she heard her advisors making their way over to her tent. She could hear the argument, the fierce mutterings getting clearer as they approached.

"What on earth are they fighting about now?" she groaned to herself, massaging her temples in preparation of their arrival.

The flap of the tent whipped open and they entered, exchanging scathing comments under breath. Edelgard's eyes widened. They looked quite the pair, hair sodden and slicked back, still dripping. Dressed casually as if done hastily.

"Please, El, talk some sense into him!" Byleth said.

"I assure you, I'm not the one who needs to see sense!" Hubert bit back.

If the situation were any different, she'd likely expect this to come to blows. Edelgard stood, commanding their silence. "Calm yourselves at once. This is hardly becoming."

They stopped talking, merely exchanging sharp glances.

"Explain yourselves. Though this better be important. I'm hardly in the mood to resolve a lovers' tiff."

Hubert scowled. "I cannot allow her to take part in the coming battle. Given the track record of her injuries -"

"- I'm going add to your record if you refuse to cease!"

Hubert growled in response.

"I presume this is about the pregnancy," Edelgard said bluntly.

"Yes." They said almost in unison.

"Hmm," The Emperor hummed, thinking inwardly. "This has come at a bad time. I've been trying to decide what would be the best course of action since you told me the news."

"Well?" Hubert asked curiously.

"I have decided that Byleth will keep her responsibilities as general and lead her troops."

"Lady Edelgard, please!" He said, halting himself before saying anything regretful.

"Peace, Hubert. I said lead." Edelgard looked to Byleth. "You are not to engage the enemy unless absolutely necessary. This is a strict order. I can't have anyone distracted."

"Agreed." Byleth's eyes were deadpan as if she'd sucked all the emotion back in.

"Hmph. I suppose that's a fair decision. Forgive my tone, your Highness."

"It's perfectly fine, Hubert, I share your sentiments." Edelgard walked over to them, gesturing to the door to the tent. "You should both get some rest, it's been a… difficult day. Just one more victory, then we can catch our breath. Though, we must be ready for them to intercept us at the Tailtean Plains."

"By your leave. I will report to you at first light," he said.

Byleth nodded, but she seemed lost in thought as if carefully contemplating to herself.


Another terrifying dream caused her to shudder awake. Byleth pulled a hand over her forehead and through her hair, looking up towards the canvas roof.

"Another nightmare?" Hubert whispered.

"Yes…" she replied softly. She rested a hand to touch him, but he wasn't beside her. She turned her head to see him, sat with his back against the wooden supporting post. A small candle was the only source of light; it had almost burned down to nothing.

He stopped writing, turning to give her his attention. "That's the third one you've had this night."

"Is it first light yet?" She asked, sheepishly trying to change the subject.

"Not quite, we may have a few hours yet."

"Are you not coming to bed?"

"I doubt I could sleep even if I tried. Besides, I have rested once today."

"Being knocked unconscious doesn't count."

"You seem adamant. Does this mean you've forgiven me?"

"Is that the true reason you're sat over there? Because you think I'm angry?"

"I much prefer this to the icy touch of your feet against my legs."

A smile pulled at the side of her mouth. "Colder than your tongue?" She added curtly.

"I may have said several things out of turn..." He was brooding over his words.

"Yes," she exhaled, sitting up, "But… I was being selfish. I earnt those words. Wars aren't won by one person alone, and I'll still be doing my part. I accept it."

She stretched out a hand, letting it lazy fall on the bedrolls. It was all it took to have Hubert's defiance crumble to nothing. He crawled over, taking her hand, and wrapping it to her stomach. He put an arm under her neck and led with his chest to her back.

He exhaled through his nose, before taking in the scent of her freshly washed hair.

"We march to Fhirdiad after dawn," she said, giving voice to her thoughts.

"Yes… we are likely to face the deluded king," he replied, voice low.

"Dimitri…" she said quietly.

"Indeed. It was possible with Flayn and Seteth. But much like it was with Claude, we cannot spare him."

"I know…" she replied distantly, "No doubt Rhea will also be there."

He tucked some hair behind her ear, his hand finding its way back to hers, letting it rest upon her belly. "I beg of you, for their sakes and yours, don't do anything reckless."

She felt his arms squeeze around her. "I promise you."

"I'm trusting you," He whispered in her ear, kissing it sweetly.

She fell asleep again quickly. Though this time it was peaceful and undisturbed.

When she awoke shortly after dawn there was a small note by her bedside:

I've procured you some breakfast, no doubt it will be cold when you wake.

Mayhap you will be annoyed at my decision, but I couldn't stand to rouse you. You need your rest.

I will cover your duties until you join me.

All my love,

- H