Random Drabbles Chapter Two

A Fire Emblem Three Houses Fanfiction

By Hoenn Master

A.N.: Part two. Not much to say. Hopefully my work gains some semblance of traction. Thank you for reading.

4. Pocket

It always was a point of fascination for Mercedes to watch Professor Byleth flit around the campus of Garreg Mach, doling out lost items, gifts, or a kind word with everyone. It was only a moment of inattention, she later insisted, that she tripped on a loose paving stone and began to fall into the lake. With a scream she started to fall.

Only, there was no cold wetness.

Mercedes opened her eyes slowly, realizing that the new professor had managed to catch her wrist and save her an embarrassing dip in the lake less than two months into the year. It only just occurs to her as she blinks owlishly a couple of times to straighten her skirt and hair to properly introduce herself. Formal class meetings meant little, and if she'd been honest she had shied away from the intensity in Byleth's eyes as he taught. But, he deserved a proper thank you for his actions.

Byleth waited as she organized herself, and she idly wondered if she'd lost anything lately, or had done something other than embarrass herself in front of her new professor to cause him to be close enough to save her. Just as she curtsied and opened her mouth to introduce herself, Byleth produced a finely crafted but still portable tea set out of one of the pockets of his cloak. It seemed only a trick of the light, but she could have sworn for a brief moment Byleth's expression changed from its usual stoic to amused. "Would you care to join me for tea, Miss Mercedes? Perhaps it will take the edge off of that narrow miss."

Mercedes' mouth dropped open slightly in surprise. She hadn't suspected the new professor of liking tea. It seemed at odds with his mercenary background, but seeing as she'd just been saved from an embarrassing spill, she smiled. "I would love to, Professor, though you don't strike me as someone who likes tea."

This time she knew she saw it; a flicker of a smirk on the professor's face, a brief flash, but unmistakable. "Judging books by their covers often leads to missed information, which is dangerous in both politics and on the battlefield. Now, from what I have seen of your baking skills, you have a preference for sweets, yes?"

Mercedes' eyebrows disappeared into her bangs as she nodded. This level of animation was not typical of the direct and intense, but passionate professor she'd observed in class. The change intrigued her.

One tea session turned into two, and then soon enough, it became their ritual which persisted long after they had ceased being professor and student.

5. Past (A loose continuation of Pocket)

Mercedes hid her nerves well, or at least, she hoped so. Some weeks into her now regularly scheduled tea parties with Professor Byleth, she finally decided to bring some of her favorite pastries, made by herself in the kitchens that very morning. At the time she'd thought it only fitting that Byleth provides the tea and she the confections, but as Byleth sat down she grew more and more unsure under his curious gaze towards the platter. In fact, it reminded her of the first time she'd served this very recipe to the man who became her stepfather... She shuddered at the memory. If only she'd known then what she knew now, she'd have dragged her mother away and never bothered.

Byleth, for his part, raised an eyebrow at Mercedes' twitch, his gaze changing from the delightful-looking pastries and focusing on his friend slash student. In a moment he noticed her discomfort and tried to soften his expression; it was difficult unfreezing the natural almost-scowl from his face while deep within his own mind. Still, Mercedes now seemed to look torn between a giggle and a cringe. He probably had a strange look on his face.

Mercedes finally settled on a half giggle. "I'm sorry, Professor, but are you alright? You look uncomfortable."

Byleth sighed and relaxed his features back into their natural state. "My apologies; you seemed ill at ease and I tried to soften my expression. I've been told I'm a bit intense when I'm thinking, so I decided to make an effort to change that. Speaking of which, you don't look very comfortable yourself. Would that have something to do with these unusual treats?"

Mercedes started lightly; no matter how often it happened, it frequently floored her how quickly people dismissed Byleth's social awkwardness as ignorance; it seemed he was more or less aware of his effect on others. Still, she knew trying to dismiss his attention now would only end in ever increasing pressure until she finally broke. As much as others failed to see it, she could tell that, despite his intensity, he cared deeply for every student, and not just those under his care. She had seen him sit for over an hour in front of poor Bernadetta's door, calmly talking to her with his back pressed up against it, telling stories and somehow getting her to tell him about her love of embroidery as Mercedes had passed on her way to the Cathedral for evening prayers.

She supposed that was why she sighed deeply and nodded slowly, allowing her usually excellent posture to slump and show her true tiredness. "Yes, actually; they're my mother's recipe. It's been passed down in my family for quite some time. I haven't thought of her in quite a while, and they bring back memories."

Byleth nodded, looking once again at the treats. "I see. Those memories don't seem happy, if you don't mind the observation."

Mercedes chuckled mirthlessly. "No offense taken. My mother and I… We don't see eye to eye."

Byleth's expression remained unchanged, though in Mercedes' opinion, there was a change in his eyes. It looked almost wistful. "I see. That is a shame. I'm sorry you and your mother are on such poor terms."

Mercedes blinked. The tone Byleth had used was not one she was familiar with from him. It seemed the mercenary turned professor had much more to him than anyone seemed to know. "Professor? Are you alright?"

Byleth shook his head slightly, almost imperceptibly. But, a woman of her experience in helping others could tell he was more affected than perhaps even he himself acknowledged. "As you likely can infer, my mother is deceased. Killed by my birth. My father never blamed me for her death, but it is easy to tell he has never been quite the same since her loss, even to one who has never known him in such a state. The change in him when he speaks of my mother is palpable; he seems to shed fifteen years whenever he speaks of her to me. His reluctance to inform me of anything regarding the Church, its functions, and especially Lady Rhea has also caused me to question much of my past. I have a feeling there is much more to my existence than a knight falling in love with a religious servant and marrying her. But, well, father is being tight-lipped and I hesitate to approach Lady Rhea with my concerns."

Mercedes' eyebrows disappeared into her hair as Byleth began to unload his burden, even if only slightly. While she deeply respected Jeralt, it was becoming apparent that his relationship with his son was distant, though loving. It made her long for the ability to be able to speak with her family on a whim and not question if she would be a bargaining chip in some arranged betrothal afterwards. Equally, though, it dawned upon her that this may be the only time Byleth allowed himself to be vulnerable in any way, and she was floored it was for her.

Tea and food forgotten, she stood and walked to the other side of the garden table, mind set on what needed to be done.

Byleth watched her stand, curious eyes widening as Mercedes strolled right up to where he was sitting and enveloped him in a brief but incredibly warm hug. It lasted only a second, and Mercedes herself flushed a deep red before coughing and making an excuse to depart for the rest of the day afterwards.

Byleth said nothing, mind processing what had happened even after the tea had long grown cold and the pastries stale in the evening air.

6. Deserve

Could one person deserve such happiness? The sky was bight, cloudless, and more beautiful than she had ever seen. Either that or her appreciation of the sight simply was increased. The flowers were in full bloom and the myriad of colors, shapes, and scents was intoxicating. The guests were prepared, the ceremonies in place, ready to be carried out. Annette, Ingrid and Dorothea all fussed around her, ensuring not a thing was out of place. What went ignored was the lack of her mother in the room. What also went unsaid was the lack of her father to give her away, or her brother to support her.

But these things mattered little; Gustave, who had retaken his name and home at Annette's insistence, was to give her away, and there were few in the old Blue Lions on par with Dorothea when it came to cosmetics and appearance. Gustave's involvement was, as Annette put it, because if they were sisters in all but blood, it would only be fitting for her father to step in when Mercedes' own proved entirely unsuitable. Mercedes smiled into the mirror at that memory and lowered her bridal veil just as the organ music began to play in the cathedral, cleaned and suitable for services, albeit with a skylight.

It occurred to her just as the doors opened and she instantly spotted Byleth standing at the altar, but in truth, it wasn't just one person attaining the happiness she had been experiencing. It was Byleth as well. And not just him, but their whole circle of friends got to enjoy the joy of the occasion, too. She saw Felix actually sniff slightly from the corner of her eye as she stepped up to the altar, where Byleth stood waiting in his own dress clothes.

Yes, one person may not quite deserve such happiness, but then, it was lovely thing that both Mercedes and Byleth were doling out their happiness to everyone as well.