Fire Emblem Drabbles Chapter 4

A Fire Emblem Three Houses Fanfiction

By Hoenn Master

A.N.: I deeply appreciate all of the favorites and follows; thank you to those who enjoyed my humble work.

Onwards with another chapter!

10. Morning

Mercedes, as it turned out, wasn't quite a morning person. That did not at all stop her from being determinedly cheerful even when her hair, which she was letting grow back out now that she would no longer need to worry about it being grabbed in battle, was a mess. Even when her eyes refused to adjust to the light, and especially when her newly wedded husband of just over a month was already up and dressed at or even a bit before dawn, but still took the time to give her a kiss good morning. Never mind the fact that they were both inevitably called to attend to their duties as two of the most powerful people on the continent. In that moment, they were simply Byleth and Mercedes, not the Archbishop of the Church of Seiros and the Head Administrator of Charity and Alms-giving. Mercedes could certainly live with an early morning if it meant seeing Byleth's slightly disheveled bed head, and the other little moments of humanity beneath the stoic veneer he maintained with everyone else.

The usual pot of morning tea awaited her as she rose from the luxurious four-poster bed afforded for their station. She yawned hugely, and though it was unusual of her to be so forthcoming, the fog of the morning still permeated her mind, and she ignored the slight breach of decorum. With a sigh, she stretched and adjusted her nightgown to be more dignified, and finally properly got out of bed. Nevertheless, she pulled on her robe to ward off the morning chill, and relaxed into the comfortable armchair in front of the fireplace next to its twin, which Byleth occupied.

Byleth smiled, somewhat teasing as he passed a cup of piping hot breakfast tea to his wife. "If you would prefer, I can let you sleep until later in the morning, Mercedes."

Mercedes blinked as the scent of the tea began to rouse her sleep-addled brain into something more akin to awake. "Hmm?"

Byleth indicated Mercedes' robe, which was inside out and backwards. "You may want to fix my robe. It's on backwards. Not that I mind terribly, but you might later when you need to get dressed."
Mercedes looked down, and indeed, she had grabbed her husband's robe and somehow managed to put it on exactly as he'd described. Her face flushed somewhat and she took a deliberate sip of the piping hot goodness before responding. "Perhaps I enjoy the comfort of a warm chair at my back and a robe at my front?"

Byleth simply continued to smile. "Perhaps. But nevertheless, you may want to wear it properly; it is laundry day and the servants will need to come in soon. The choice, though, is yours."

Mercedes simply rolled her eyes good-naturedly and smiled herself. In times past such a thing as this would have mortified her, especially in front of Byleth, but since she had been married to him, he took every little incident in stride and even with amusement. Though she wished she wasn't quite so thoughtless in the mornings, having someone who could catch her before she did something like walk out of their chambers in just her nightgown or similarly indecent was a significant blessing, indeed. With a slight sniff of feigned indignation, she set her tea onto the table set between the chairs and stood, correcting the robe just as someone knocked on their door just loud enough for them to hear. With a chuckle only Mercedes could hear, Byleth allowed his expression to settle into its usual impassive state before speaking.

"Enter."

A young lady, one of the new sisters recently taken on as the monastery finally began to return to normal, opened the door and pushed a cart laden with a delicious-smelling breakfast as well as the much less welcome morning paperwork and agendas for the rest of the day for both of them. "Good morning, your Excellences. I've brought you breakfast and the morning schedules as asked."

Mercedes smiled kindly and took the cart. "Thank you, Martha. I will be down as soon as possible for morning prayers."

Byleth simply nodded in agreement as the young sister simply bowed and exited the room, looking a slight bit starstruck.

Mercedes sighed as she passed Byleth his laden tray and took up her own. "Another busy day, it seems."

Byleth nodded as he took a sip of his own tea. "Indeed. But we can get through it as we always do, no matter what happens. I'd never be able to do this on my own, and having you with me makes it all worthwhile."

Mercedes felt a light dusting of a blush on her cheeks as Byleth spoke, if only because he was always saying such things throughout the day at the least expected of times. Still, she reached over and patted his arm. "I couldn't imagine a life without you by my side; as I've said, such happiness doesn't seem possible, but it is. I can do everything I've ever dreamed of and more, all because you chose me."

Byleth smiled, truly smiled, and took her hand in his. "Then let's get to work on spreading our happiness to the rest of the world."

Mercedes sighed almost theatrically, but nodded and helped Byleth to his feet. "Very well then; here is your half."

With that, she passed her husband his pile of paperwork while retaining her own, and together, they began to work on their duties, hands still entwined.

11. Crack

Mercedes sat at a comfortable table resting on the balcony of the third floor garden. The table was comfortably placed in such a way as to allow shade during the late morning hours, but no so much that one couldn't look out the crenelations to have a most excellent view of the grounds and territory outside of the walls. Byleth had already left to attend to his duties as Archbishop, but Mercedes for a change had little to trouble her that day. And so she sat, ruminating as she looked at a particular area of the grounds where the canyon met with the remnants of a bastion in the wall. The crumbled area had been fenced off twenty feet from the edge once the resources could be spared, but the sight was still plain from the vantage Mercedes was now privy to. She shuddered slightly at the memory of watching Byleth be struck by the orb of dark magic those long years ago; it still chilled her to remember the despair of his loss at the time, even so many years later. She sipped at her tea. Many cracks and crevices were worn into Garreg Mach, worn though time or from the battle which saw so many of her classmates dead, and the beloved head of the Blue Lions presumed so. Despite herself, though, Mercedes had a special dislike of that one crumbled bit of cliff, where the weakened rock nearly took one of the only people to truly understand her away.

It seemed almost unlike her, in a way, and in truth Mercedes herself knew it was somewhat irrational of her, but in this, she could not help it. She felt selfish in a way by admitting it, but watching Byleth fall nearly broke her will to go on. In the last moments as he fell, all she could think was that fate would once again take away her source of strength and support; that once again she would be alone in the world. Annette is and was very much a sorely needed friend and pseudo sister to her, and nothing could replace that connection. However, the head of Annette's family did not try to rid themselves of her. She needn't fear constant attempts to marry her off for money and power. Mercedes had. The total loss of family… It was a devastating thing to endure. It taught her much as she threw herself into church service, into learning and the care of others. For by it, she might release some of her burden by easing others'. But when Byleth had come into her life, saving her from embarrassment by preventing her from falling into the pond in the courtyard, she'd found someone who she could truly be herself with. Someone she could confide in and hear honest opinions about her situation; not judging, but from a place of actual care, acceptance, and understanding. She'd heard from Byleth himself of his doubts, his insecurities about his position, and the lack of communication from everyone in authority. In a way, they were both lost and helpless, and yet, they had found one another.

Perhaps that was why she asked to have that area walled off. So no others could fall off the edge like Byleth had and those close to the edge would not suddenly have the very earth beneath them crumble away and disappear into the darkness like she nearly had emotionally. Returning to her family had been one of the hardest things she could have endured, but to do it without the knowledge that there was anyone to speak to who understood her frustration and uncertainty with her stepfather, that was indeed the hardest thing she could imagine.

Compared to the physical damage, the near-shattering of her emotional state that day was far worse than anyone, even Byleth, could know. Until the moment she had rounded the corner of the broken outskirts of the monastery, and she'd seen him again. It had taken all of her willpower not to rush to Byleth's side and kiss him.

Mercedes smiled as she watched some of the orphaned children in the care of the monastery played in the grass near the new fence. For all the cracks beneath her veneer, Byleth had been the one to prove to be an adhesive holding her together until she healed around him and integrated him into herself, in a way. Byleth in turn for herself as well, she suspected. In a way, they exemplified the idea that an individual person was not whole when entirely alone and isolated, but two together could be complete, a salve for one another's wounds, and a much-needed support when the struggles of life proved too much. For all the heartache and struggles, however, it had been worth it.

With a sigh, Mercedes stood and rested an arm on her midriff, which was just beginning to properly swell with the life she and Byleth made, and was thriving within her. Life, for all its shortcomings, was good, and she was all too happy to forget her past pain if it meant forging a better, brighter future.

12. Office

It was truly amazing how much a simple room could change over time.

Byleth looked around the office he had spent much of his life in. His hair, greyed with age and care, swayed in the light breeze blowing through the opened window. A painting of his family hung on the back wall, with a neatly woven blanket draped over the comfortable chair he had his hand placed on as he took in the room. His official retirement some years previous notwithstanding, he'd finally fully retired, and his last paper had just been signed.

Byleth smiled as he rolled up the blanket Mercedes had made for him when the chill of the monastery had begun to take its toll on his knees. He had every intention of enjoying some fishing while his wife visited their son in Faerghus to see the newest addition to the family. It would be lonely, but he was tired, and retirement was a blessing. Now he could spoil his grandchildren as much as his wife had. Plus he wanted to get to work reading the library of books stored in the personal collection of the archbishop.

As he cleared his desk for the last time, Byleth's mind wandered back to the memories stored in this very room. It was here he penned thousands of letters to officials and lords from across the continent. It was from here the negotiation deal with Almyra was finally agreed upon. It was from this desk that words of wisdom and comfort reached thousands in times of strife and struggle.

If the walls could speak, they would tell of the late nights Byleth spent, huddled over paperwork until Mercedes dragged him to bed. It was here Byleth frequently received small gifts as his children played nearby, always in reach, but just far enough away to allow him some semblance of peace to work. They would also speak of the quiet, loving words Byleth spoke to his family as they headed off to bed, and of the passionate frustrations of ideas long forgotten, plans unimplemented, and a life thoroughly lived.

In short, for as much as the tapestries have worn down in the decades of service, for all of the chairs he has had to replace, the scuffs in the floor sanded, and the faintly visible markings on the walls from children's attempts at murals on the whitewashing, the office remained an ever present sentinel of the unchanging reality of leadership. The mantle and burden that each archbishop before and since himself had to bear.

With a last look around the room, Byleth handed the key to an anxious-looking woman, fair of hair, but with eyes as piercing green as Byleth's own.

"This office is yours now, my daughter. I hope you make as good use of it as I have these many years."