Wait for me, dear child... I will be paying you a visit soon... When this sword has been plunged into your chest... Yes, that is the very moment I have longed for.
With each battle against the church, it seemed the rain would follow. As if the goddess herself was weeping for her beloved children. At some time over the course the chilling air of the north had rolled over the chaos, the rain turning into stinging hail and then into heavy snow. Perhaps under different circumstances, the scene would have been regarded as beautiful.
The knights of Seiros, demonic beasts, and the king of Faerghus himself graced the tides of the battle. Though the Empire had strength in numbers, the Kingdom had the tactical advantage. Meeting them with their full force on the Tailtean Plains was a bold move and one that could easily have tipped the scales of war.
Byleth was bolstering the east flank of the army, whilst Edelagrd and Hubert had taken lead to the north, towards the deluded king. From atop her mount in the moody sky, Byleth could see their bannerman in the distance, unsure whether to feel pride or anxiety as they cut through enemy lines; waning into the murky background. She began to lose her sights on them bit by bit as they faded into the fog of war.
It was cold, so very cold up high. Even so, the snowdrops melted upon her skin to wash away the sweat. The Kingdom had little in the way of flying units and so the majority of her forces had taken to the ground, fighting the battle in her stead. Each time an ally fell it cut deep. Constantly fighting intrusive thoughts on whether their lives could have been spared if she had fought alongside them.
She caught sight of another soldier flying towards her, his mount bearing the barding of a messenger. She cursed to herself, she hadn't had a shred of good news from them yet.
"Kingdom reinforcements to the West!" the messenger yelled, flying up to meet her flank.
"Tell me what you know!" Byleth ordered.
Petra quickly swooped up to their level upon catching the news, her eyes were wide with horror. Locks of her carefully plaited hair had struggled free. Unruly and whipping around her face in the high winds.
"They came from the valley, an intercept was attempted, but there are too many of them." The soldiers' attitude was dire, fear easy to place in his eyes. Even through the steel of his helmet.
Byleth gritted her teeth.
"General!" Petra yelled over the chaos, her tone pleading, "Dorothea is with the forces to the west!"
Byleth felt her breath catch. In that quick, unyielding moment a memory raced through her mind.
"Greetings, professor," Petra said softly, "May I sit with you?"
"Of course, Petra," Byleth patted the makeshift bench to her side, grateful for the company. She nursed a cup of hot tea, watching the fire crackle against the midnight sky.
There was a comfortable silence, both watching the glowing embers drift up on the easy breeze. "We should reach Arianrhod within three days," Byleth said, breaking the silence. "I couldn't sleep. I always find myself restless whilst traveling." She gingerly poured Petra a mug of tea.
"I understand. Sleep is avoiding me as well. Where is Hubert?" Petra asked quietly, looking around before gladly accepting the beverage Byleth passed to her.
"Working, as usual," Byleth replied with a pleasant smile, she went to continue but noticed Petra was looking quite sheepish. "Did you want to speak with me about something?"
"Actually, yes. I wish to receive some advice," she said, looking relieved.
"Oh. Of course, speak freely."
Petra was silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "Dorothea and I… we have closeness," she explained shyly, shuffling closer to Byleth as if even the grass had curious ears. "But I wish for us to be more close. More than friends, but I have fear she will not return my feelings."
"Maybe she does return your feelings, but she's holding herself back." It was clear to Byleth they both had romantic feelings for each other. It made her wonder how she and Hubert used to look to those watching from the outside.
"I do not have understanding," Petra replied.
"Look at it this way: she is a commoner; you are a princess. She probably feels like that type of relationship can't happen."
"I see… She did say that because of me she is no longer worrying about marriage and status."
"It makes sense. She originally joined the officer's academy to marry into nobility, but you never saw her flirting with the house leaders. She always treated them respectfully."
"So you are saying she has too much respect for me. Because I am a princess?"
"Possibly. but a lot has changed over the years. Besides, Thea is currently so busy distracting herself with everyone else's love lives, she probably can't see what's right in front of her."
Petra smiled, "That has truth. I wish for her to come to Brigid with me after the war is over."
"Why don't you tell her how you feel?"
"I am not sure how I should be saying it…" She swirled her drink around in its cup, eyes getting lost amongst the ripples. She then looked to Byleth curiously, "If you do not mind me asking. How did you and Hubert confess your love for each other?"
"I – uh," she stammered, subconsciously holding a palm up in defeat.
"Apologies, I did not mean to give you offense."
Byleth hummed a laugh, "No, you haven't offended me! It's just that… we haven't said it to each other yet." She bowed her head down as she pressed her drink to her lips, trying to hide her embarrassment.
"This is surprising me. I thought you were to be married?"
"We are… I suppose we just show our affections in other ways."
Petra giggled, "I am sure you will find the right time to say the words!" Petra said gleefully.
Byleth smiled, "I dearly hope it's romantic, and not blurted out at battle or during something else untoward." She sighed, "Sorry. I bet you were expecting something enlightening."
"Hmm. Perhaps you could tell me how Hubert proposed to you? I believe it will have great helpfulness."
"H-He told me…" she tripped over her words when she realised how unromantic it was, cringing internally as she recited the basics. "He… told me about his tragic childhood, called me a viper, and then asked me to marry him."
"Oh!" Petra coughed, choking on her drink, breaking under the laugh she was trying desperately to hold in. "That is… not helpful…"
They both started laughing. Blissful chimes over the din of apprehension.
"Why not?" Byleth giggled, "It's certainly worth a shot. Tell Thea about your forced vassalage to the Empire, call her a whore, and then ask for her hand."
Another bout of laughter filled the evening air.
When the amusement died down Petra smiled, "I will not be taking your example. But your words have given me confidence."
"Good. I hope things work out for you both. Is so, I wish you all the happiness in the world."
A couple of days later she noticed them holding hands, walking through the camp without a care towards prying eyes.
"Go!" Byleth barked through the roar of the wind and sleet.
Petra hesitated, clearly conflicted, knowing that it would be weakening Byleth's forces.
Dorothea's last words before the battle lingered in her mind like a haunting afterthought: Don't worry about me... I won't fall before I've found my happily ever after. Maybe when this war is over I can finally settle down!
"I'll not offer again! Make sure you protect her; I won't have this be for naught!"
"Thank you, General!" Petra shouted over the battle. She commanded her large squadron, and they took wing away from Byleth's side.
She watched Petra ride off hastily into the gloom, the air feeling colder in her absence. It was a strange feeling to give such an order. Maybe just a month ago she would have said something vastly different. To have had her heart and mind so strongly opened, it made her see more than just the bigger picture.
Though it pained her knowing that this would likely lead to breaking her promise.
She quickly reorganised her remaining troops, though she had lost a whole battalion they still outnumbered the enemy.
Not soon after they had managed a foothold, she heard the panicked voice of a lieutenant call her attention.
"More reinforcements! To the east, they hold the banner of the Knights of Seiros!"
She closed her eyes at the words, tempted to beg the goddess herself for some reprieve.
The decision was a difficult one. Retreat to the main bulk of the army and lose their position or intercept the enemy with a weakened force. She tried to rationalise but the noise of battle, coupled with the searing snow and squalls of flight demanded her concentration.
This could be the deciding battle. She would not retreat.
"Break off all flying units and join the troops on the ground! I will not allow us to be flanked! We fight!"
"By your order!"
She flew down to join them. The snow beneath her feet had turned to sludge, slick and hard to walk through.
The situation was looking dire.
Vibrant green hair then caught her eye. Glinting in the low light, adorned by lilies. The sacred sword poised by her side; her gaze determined as she walked onto the battlefield as if where her god-given property. The archbishop wasted no time. Brandishing her weapon, he began to cut down soldiers in her path, her deft skill apparent and unrivalled; none who opposed her stood a chance. She left with her a trail of bodies, a sweat hardly breaking upon her beautiful yet ferocious façade.
"Fall back!" Byleth commanded as she did the opposite, charging to the front lines. She was resolved, no more allies would serve as her shield this day, no more deaths would bloody her path. These people all had families and lives they wished to live. To sacrifice them for the sake of her own was heresy.
With her soldiers at her back, she unsheathed the sword the creator, the red glow catching Rhea's eye. The woman then commanded her ranks to her own back. It was clear that she wished this victory to belong only to her.
The two opposing forces stopped, waiting to behold the fight between their two commanders.
"Rhea!" Byleth shouted, keeping her distance. She swung her sword into a defensive stance, her eyes unblinking, watching the woman for the slightest movement.
"I no longer go by that name," Rhea said as she boldly walked closer. "I once walked this world as Seiros, the warrior... and defeated the Fell King Nemesis. Now, here I stand, facing one who wields the same sword as he... The fate you have chosen is also the same as his... To die in torment upon my sword, as the very lifeblood you have forsaken spills onto the earth!"
With those words she charged forwards, unleashing a barrage of attacks. Byleth blocked them desperately, acting purely in defence. If the situation were different, she likely would have taken the offense, but she had more than one life to consider now.
Their swords clattered and sparked with each impact. Movements dire and precise, not a degree of fault in each of their actions.
Then there came a swift kick to the shin and the slice of a blade against flesh.
Byleth whipped her sword out in a vicious arc and staggered back, a hand to the wound on her side, teeth gritting through the pain as she tried to gather distance. The blood oozed through the gaps between her fingers as she tried to stifle the flow.
The soldiers behind her began to stir, but it was not out of fear. Cheers and roars of victory rippled through the army, and a great horn blew to signify that that king had been defeated.
"The king has fallen! We need to retreat!" a female voice cried from behind Seiros.
"No... It cannot be... There is no retreat for the Knights of Seiros! Fight until none are left standing! Slaughter them all and send them straight to hell!"
"Please! I beseech you! Lady Seiros, we need to fall back!"
Byleth noticed the slight waver in Seiros' eyes. She would not allow it. Not now, not when they were so close. She took a strong step forward, brandishing her sword again. She pointed it in her direction, deliberately taunting.
"You know what the goddess Sothis said to me before she gave me her power?" Byleth seethed, a wicked grin upon her face. She could not let the woman retreat.
"You DARE speak her name! The one who deceived her and stole her power?!" One of the knights placed a hand upon Seiros' shoulder. She shrugged it off with a harsh grunt before pushing forward. "I will take back my mother's heart and purify the earth with your blood as repentance!"
"She said…" Byleth stood straight, ignoring the threats, she now had Rhea's devoted attention. "She said you were a disappointment."
Rhea's red-accented eyes widened. Pure undeniable rage and hatred, radiating with ire. Her face buckled under the anger, letting out a guttural scream. "To know you have tainted her very soul! I WILL WATCH YOU BURN. APOSTATE! BETRAYER! FAILURE!"
The burst of heat and wind that came from the transformation dried the damp from her skin. She blocked out the light with her arm, looking around frantically for Hector. The Wyvern then landed harshly by her side. Even he could sense the danger they were in.
"Everyone! Retreat!" she commanded to her troops as she flew up, her eyes firmly planted on the dragon below.
"GIVE IT BACK." The hollow, reptilian voice rumbled as the blinding light faded from her form.
Byleth watched, reassuring her wyvern as The Immaculate One took flight into the skies. She was putting all her faith in the fact that they were nimbler. As soon as Seiros closed in they dived down to barely scrape past the teeth of the dragon. She whipped out her sword, sending the spine-like whip across its body, but it clanged and trailed across the scales without so much as a scuff.
Shit!
Seiros turned mid-flight, charging a huge fireball within her jaws. It evaporated the snow into hot steam as it travelled, they barely dodged as it slammed into the earth, bathing the ground with relentless flames.
Another, then another. She barely had time to breathe as Seiros desperately assaulted them.
Her eyes searched for a sign of the northern unit where Hubert and Edelgard were. But through having to maneuver the explosive attacks, coupled with the blinding hot light and relentless mist, she could not place them.
She needed a signal.
She could not do this alone.
Hubert's eyes were fixed to the chaotic light show that brightened the murky skies like lightning. Whenever the great dragon charged an attack, he could see the small silhouette of his lover stark against the sky, weaving and dodging upon her mount. His blood quickened. He felt powerless, cursing under his breath. All he could do was charge his magic to catch her in case she fell.
It was clear she was trying to wear the beast out, weaken it before…
It hit him. She was trying to bring the fight to them. He let out a flare of magic to act as a signal.
"Byleth is bringing Rhea to us! She means to end it here and now!" Hubert shouted to Edelgard who was equally as transfixed to the chaos.
The Empress switched her sights to Hubert and nodded, "Everyone! Stand your ground! Be prepared!"
He was right. as soon as he sent up the signal she began heading in their direction, dragon in tow.
"Archers! Nock your arrows!" Edelgard commanded, raising her arm. "On my signal!"
The sound of bows creaking to a draw was promptly drowned out by the beating of wings. At the last moment, Byleth twisted her mount to the side, turning and rolling out of the way mid-flight.
"Fire!" the empress shouted.
Before the creature could turn to pursue its quarry a barrage of arrows whistled through the air. Whilst many simply ricocheted off her hardened scales, many reached their mark upon its tender underbelly. Its wings flapped erratically, unable to keep lift, landing with an almighty thud upon the snowy battlefield.
The Immaculate one regained its footing, readying another attack in rage.
"Lady Edelgard!" Hubert panicked, warping her out of the way of the attack.
She heard him calling back his name from further away as a stream of hot white fire rattled the earth and sent him off his feet. His horse took the brunt of the attack. He hit the ground hard, smacking his head.
He heard a great roar over the ringing of his ears, vision coming back in a blur. He managed to get to his feet in time to witness both Edelgard and Byleth running towards the beast. Their relic weapons raised in unison, blazing with ominous red through the haze.
They struck the creature down together, only feeling a hint at relief when its body fell. A hideous roar cracking before falling to silence.
Through some egregious stroke of luck, they had managed to win the damned war without even marching upon the gates of Fhirdiad. Capturing the capital was still a necessity, but with it leaderless and without a cause, it was likely that most of the faction would desert or surrender. He felt himself stagger, the pain in his head rose with the cries and cheers of the men and women around him.
But all of that fell silent when he saw her fall.
"Hubert!" Edelgard shouted.
He ran over. Edelgard was holding Byleth in her arms, panic and dread clear in her wide eyes.
"I'm not sure what happened! I – I can't feel her heartbeat!"
He skidded to a kneel by her side, his knees sinking into the mud.
"She doesn't have one, remember?" He said desperately, refusing to believe anything else as he ripped a glove off with his teeth.
He tentatively placed a couple of fingers to the pulse point on her neck.
Nothing.
His hands began to shake. He couldn't feel the cold or physical pain anymore.
"No. No, this isn't possible," he said in denial, trying to tune out Edelgard's rising sobs.
He tenderly placed a hand behind her head, ignoring the fact that it felt limp and heavy. He lowered his face to hers, expecting to feel the warmth of her breath against his cheek.
Nothing.
"H-Hubert…" Edelgard stammered, "I'm sorry, she's -"
"NO!" he insisted, his voice tightening. He clenched his teeth. He felt sick, choking on the plummeting feeling. "Please don't say it!"
The healing magic he had so desperately tried to learn within the last few days pulsed through his hands as he held her tight. He pressed his cheek against hers, her wet hair masking the tears that he so quietly and painfully wept.
The ache of his past he had so carefully orchestrated into motivation paled in comparison. To have suddenly and so violently lost both his wife and child. It broke him.
He could not accept it.
"We need a healer!" he cried, cradling her lifeless body. His voice did not even sound like his own. He felt Edelgard's arms around him, though they offered no warmth.
Take me. Take me in their stead.
"I was supposed to protect her… protect them!" he babbled. He pulled away, wiping the mud from her beautiful face. The fluffy snow drifted down, melting upon her still-warm skin.
He noticed Edelgard was still embracing him when her arms tightened their hold, "I'm sorry, Hubert… I'm so sorry…"
His voice then fell to a deep whisper, "If I wasn't protecting you…" He couldn't tell what had killed her. Was it the wound? Was she connected to Rhea is some way? No thoughts came out with clarity, his mind barely lucid.
He closed his eyes; he couldn't stand to look at her.
At that moment he did something he had never done before. He prayed silently to the goddess. No, he begged the goddess to return her. Though he quickly began to curse her very existence in the same train of thought.
He heard Edelgard shouting, nudging him, it took all his shattered willpower not to snap at her.
"Hue?" he heard a weak voice whisper, too feeble to finish his name.
He opened his eyes to find her blue ones wearily watching back. Her hair colour had changed, back to how it was five years ago. Was he imagining this? Had he finally gone mad with grief? If not for her gentle hand upon his cheek he would have thought himself hallucinating.
He felt his breath hitch, "Byleth?" he said, wide-eyed and shaking.
She smiled back meekly, letting her hand fall. It appeared she had used her remaining strength just to touch him. He caught her wrist as it dropped, pulling it back to his cheek. He could hear Edelgard's happy sobs as Byleth sweetly rubbed the tears from his face.
The Empress quickly rose to her feet, ordering a healer be brought to them immediately.
"Why are you crying?" Byleth asked, her voice was hushed, but it was clear she was confused at his reaction.
He felt his heart ache. After all this, she was asking about him?
"Save your strength. Try not to speak." He unclipped his cape, throwing it over her like a blanket. He pulled her into his arms again, carrying her bridal style towards the healers.
"Is it over?" she murmured into his coat with a tired voice.
"It is," he replied, still quiet from the shock.
She let forth a breath of relief. "I'm sorry... I broke my promise."
"It matters not, my love."
"I saw my father…" she whispered, "he gave us his blessing." She was scarcely conscious, words barely discernible.
He was silent, but a hint of a smile pulled at his lips.
"Can… we get married now?" she asked sweetly.
He laughed weakly through the tears.
"It would be my honour."
Poking fun at my own writing with that Peta convo, heh. (Also, Grammerly hates Petra lol)
This was a difficult chapter to write, apologies if you noticed a lack of quality.
Feedback much appreciated.
Wedding next! \o/
