Blue Sea Moon, Year 1200.

Dear Mother & Father,

How are you? If I'm correct, by the time you get this letter, you will be nearing the eastern mountains in the old Hrym territory. I know you went out on an important, serious mission and all, but I hope you're having fun in your travels anyway.

Things are all fine here in Fhirdiad. It's so boring! Believe it or not, Isaac has been taking his wyvern riding lessons seriously for the past few weeks. Although, if you ask me, he's just showing off for that girl in his class who I told you about. And it worked! Last month, she ran up to him and gave him one of the prettiest garlands I've ever seen! (I know you're pouting, Dad, but don't worry. The ones you make for Mom are still the prettiest.) Don't tell Isaac I said this, by the way. He has no idea that we know about his girlfriend. Anyway, my uncle and sisters are also doing all right. The little bean still cries a lot and the twins got tangled up in a bedsheet the other day after insisting on helping us with the laundry, but there have been no explosions in the kitchen this time, so I'm satisfied.

As for me, I've been studying a lot from the book that you gave me, Mom. It's such a great gift! Did you know that the Seraphim are celestial beings that protect the goddess? That's why the spell is perfect for fighting monsters! I can't wait to master it and all of the others in this book so that I can go with you on all your missions. I forgot to tell you this before you left, but please say hello to my aunts and uncles for me (though I guess you've got that covered already, Mom). And give the biggest hugs to Aunt Annette and Aunt Mercedes! I've been practicing the spells that they taught me a bunch. Isaac might tell you that I hit him with a lightning spell, but I swear that I cast Physics correctly that time.

We're all missing you so much. Of course you'll be fine—you're the greatest knights in the world—but please take care of yourselves. Besides, I still need to beat Dad at chess! You've absolutely been letting me win those last few times that we played. So, go defeat the bad guys and return home safely, all right?

See you soon,

Julia Audhild Gautier

xxx

Having finished reading the message out loud, Ingrid set the piece of parchment on her lap and tilted her head up only to be met with the ridiculous, absolutely adorable sight of her sniffling husband.

"Aw, love," she giggled, reaching up to give him a peck on his cheek.

Sylvain dabbed at his tears. "What? I'm an emotional guy," he said as he tightened their hug. "I just miss them a lot, you know."

"Yes," she whispered. "I do too."

As she nuzzled against him, Ingrid supposed it was likely that the two of them had grown spoiled. All soldiers had to forfeit precious bonds and leisure activities to fulfil their duties, but His Majesty, caring as ever, had ensured that even his royal guard spent as much time as possible with their families. Now, as the months passed without her children at her side, she sampled the pain embedded in every knight's life.

She wouldn't have it any other way, however. If they could eradicate the enemy base, then they would certainly, finally put an end to this devastating conflict, to the suffering that had plagued Fódlan since ancient times.

This same vision of a peaceful future had reunited the Blue Lions, like it had back when the Empire's victory seemed imminent. Just outside Ingrid and Sylvain's tent, among the torches' embers, Dedue and Ashe discussed the best dishes to prepare with the ingredients that they had. Annette's attempt to carry several pieces of firewood at once failed miserably and with loud thuds, after which Mercedes rushed to her aid and Felix so very nicely chastised her while checking for injuries. It was almost unreal, having their whole class together yet again, but their lively banter assured her that this was no fantasy. Lulling her into a happiness that many would have assumed unachievable in wartime, it almost made her forget about what was absent.

Sylvain plopped his chin onto the top of her head. A puff of air ruffled her hair, which she recognized as a sigh.

"Do you think they'll be OK?" he asked.

Ingrid turned to see him. In truth, she hadn't been preoccupied with her kids subsisting in their absence as much as she had just been longing to see them. "You don't trust Julia?"

"What— No!" His confusion morphed into concern. "I mean… What if she stays up too late studying again? Or the twins steal another pegasus?" He straightened his posture, his eyes wide in alarm. "Or-or Isaac runs off with his girl during the night! I'll have you know that's a very real possibility—"

She cupped his face and captured his blathering lips with her own, effectively silencing him. He didn't seem to take offense, though, since he grinned against her mouth before he held her closer and returned her kiss. Even after all these years, his sweetness had not diminished, nor had the heat that overtook her failed to spark joyful peace.

When they broke away, she couldn't hold back her satisfaction at her husband's dumb, love-struck look. They had done far more risqué things than kiss, and yet he always seemed to turn back into a blushing teenager when he savored a tinge of her taste.

"Were you just trying to shut me up?" he nailed it. The witty dolt. "If so, that was very rude of you, Lady Galatea."

"Hmm, maybe so," she laughed as she sat back against his chest, guiding his arms to rest around her shoulders. "In all seriousness, you shouldn't worry so much. Surely my brother has everything under control."

While the eldest of the three was busy managing their lands in Galatea, her second older sibling had kindly offered to care for the kids. They were a rowdy bunch, sure, but nothing that he couldn't handle.

Although his smirk hadn't disappeared, Sylvain still clicked his tongue in a manner that exuded uncertainty. "I guess, but I don't think I'll be able to sleep soundly tonight anyway."

"Now who's the worrywart?"

"You've rubbed off on me way too much."

The pair sat in silence for a while. As the rhythm of their breaths synced and her husband's heartbeat sang its soothing melody, Ingrid reveled in this homelike shelter amidst the ruthless world that often snatched away what she valued most. Maybe that was why she had developed a habit of thanking the goddess every day for seemingly small matters; just as easily as they had come to her, she could have never caught sight of their radiance.

Her thoughts wandered back to the war council of that evening, and the report that confirmed the presence of Kingdom soldiers among the troops underground. One of them even led a battalion that guarded the entrance to their city and struck like death itself, quick and unrelenting. A squire managed to survive his forces' encounter with them, and his description of the enemy commander had been nothing less than bone-chilling.

An imposing figure atop his black wyvern, the mention of this lord with tanned skin and tousled brown hair elicited a single image in her mind.

It was unlikely that this warrior was her first spouse. None had deciphered how the baron escaped from his arrest, much less discovered his whereabouts, but the option hung over her like a pest.

The passage of time hadn't given Ingrid an answer on how to truly feel about him. Philip had practically rebuilt the war-ravaged Galatea with his riches and given her two of her beautiful children, which she couldn't be more thankful for. With his proficiency on the battlefield and his ardent desire to defend Faerghus, he could have turned out a legendary hero in a better life.

Yet, just as he had never loved her, she couldn't ever bring herself to harbor any kind of deep fondness towards him. Everything done in their marriage, down to the most intimate details, was for the sole purpose of fulfilling a duty that their roles had foisted upon them. For a while, she had entertained the idea that she might not be capable of entrusting her heart to someone, not after she held it in her hands for Glenn to take it, only to never feel the gentleness of his touch or hear the embarrassment in his voice again. His passing had left behind a wound that she had tried desperately to heal. It still hadn't.

But Sylvain?

He made her laugh when she couldn't find one reason to smile. He saw their Crestless children for who they were, to the point of fighting relentlessly with Kingdom nobility to ensure Isaac's position as the heir of Gautier. With incredible patience and understanding, he had helped her rediscover herself, to understand that it was all right to share her emotions.

Now, cozy in his hold, Ingrid no longer had to be a silenced housewife, a tool in human's clothing, nor a bloodstained bride, forever in wait of her dead beloved.

One word, while not nearly enough, encompassed what her husband was to her. Wonderful.

She had almost drifted off when a motion beneath her roused her from slumber. Sylvain carefully untangled his arm and reached for another letter that he had received earlier, the one with the Crest of Gautier as its now-opened seal. His hand only lay on top, like unsure of pulling out its contents again.

"Was it from your father?" she asked.

He tensed up, maybe because he had been expecting her to be asleep, yet she sensed his disquiet at her question. Although it was pretty clear who the sender was, she wasn't about to broach the subject if it proved to be too difficult for him.

"It's all right." She turned to meet his gaze. "You don't need to tell me."

"No, no," he mumbled, his tone anxious but gentle. "It's just… He's not really getting better."

Her heart sunk, any words of encouragement she might have offered dying in her throat. She gave his hand a light squeeze, hoping it could convey at least a fraction of her affection.

He sighed with a mirthless grin. "To be honest, I had a feeling this would happen the moment I heard he'd gotten sick. But he's really worried about what will become of Gautier territory once he…once he's gone."

Ingrid stared at him. Despite Sylvain still resenting the damage brought upon by his father's actions, that which no amounts of time could erase, his teary eyes bore a glint that spoke of the love he had for him. A part of her despised the fact that he cared so much for the people that had tormented him—her fuzzy memory of his brother surfacing in her head—but she understood his burdens as he did hers.

She brought a thumb up to wipe away his tears. "Then I suppose we should start packing as soon as we return to Fhirdiad."

"What?"

She huffed out a laugh. "You were margrave once, for a while. If there is anyone worthy of upholding your father's legacy… Well, I think it would be you."

"Ingrid, but— We won't be able to guard His Majesty from so far away." He paused, realization falling upon him. "Oh, no. No, no, you can't— What about being a knight in service of a lord?!" he exclaimed. "You've always wanted that!"

Her smile only widened. "And I've fulfilled that dream already. This one shall be my grand, climactic battle by my lord's side. But, after that, I'd like to help you look after your people. And…"

"And?"

She shrugged. "I don't think I mind, either way. I'm happy as long as I'm with you."

His mouth fell open. A blush was beginning to spread across his features, coloring them the same shade as his hair, but he quickly buried his face in his hands. "Ingrid, how— How do you say stuff like that without even flinching?!"

She giggled, her own cheeks burning up. Only he made her say the most embarrassing things. "I guess you've rubbed off on me, too."

He beamed, boyish and shy, before leaning in for a soft kiss. "Goddess, you're wonderful."

"Ingrid, Sylvain!"

At the sound of Dimitri's voice, the couple looked over to their tent's entrance. The Savior King had cast aside his royal armor in favor of a pair of trousers and a shirt, comparable to any other soldier at rest. Beside him, their old professor wore a similar attire that hid her status as archbishop under the image of a renowned mercenary, as she had been long ago. Both were holding plates of delicious-looking food, mild steam coming off of it.

"Come along, now!" Dimitri beckoned them with childlike enthusiasm. "You're missing the best stew you'll ever taste!"

Byleth's smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. "If you don't hurry, we may help ourselves to your shares."

A particular warmth enveloped Ingrid. The seemingly unending war raged beyond the confines of their small camp and its remnants would weigh on her for years, perhaps forever, yet distress no longer consumed her.

Here, among their loved ones' joys and sorrows, free from expectations and lies, they had built a home.

And there was no greater honor than protecting it by his side.

Sylvain stood up, reaching out a hand to her. "Shall we?"

Author's Note: And we've finally reached the end! I hope you all enjoyed reading the story as much as I did writing it ^^ I haven't been writing author's notes for every chapter, but I just had to make an exception for the final installment. It's been such an amazing journey and I truly can't thank you enough for all your support!

Since you've stuck with me for so long, I wanted to talk to you a bit about the fic and why it's really dear to me. In-game, Ingrid was willing to marry even a stranger for her family, which was a big inspiration (the story is kind of a what-if scenario), but it's actually based a bit on the life of my great grandmother. She was married off to a man who I was told abused her pretty badly, but, after his death, she married her childhood best friend, whom she had always truly loved. I unfortunately never got to meet either of them, but my family always speaks about what wonderful people they were. So, yeah! Ingrid and Sylvain are kind of like what I imagine they would have been like together :)

I also wanted to apologize for the weird grammar and spelling scattered throughout the story. As you might have noticed, English isn't my first language. (Fun fact: My friends always ask me why I don't usually write in Spanish and...well...truth is, I just kind of articulate my ideas better in English, for some reason. Don't get me wrong, your language is a blazing hot mess, but it's also really pretty.) I also didn't have a beta reader because I honestly didn't expect such huge amounts of love for this story, but I promise to deliver more polished writing in the future. It's the least I can do!

Anyway, thank you so, SO much again for everything! Even though I absolutely adore to see your feedback and/or criticism (special thanks to everyone who commented; I assure you, you've made me squeal with happiness or at least smile like a dummy), I also really appreciate those silent readers that enjoy the story nonetheless. I have a few fics planned for next, so I hope you'll be looking forward to some more doses of angst and fluff :D (I need to contribute with some felannie works, of course~)

Love always,

Ayu