Fire Emblem Drabbles Chapter 6

A Fire Emblem Three Houses Fanfiction

By Hoenn Master

16. Clean

It took three years to at long last wipe away the last of the major scars from Garreg Mach's siege and its subsequent abandonment during the war. Byleth sighed as he put down the sponge on a stick he'd been using to help whitewash the last of the many battlements which had been repaired. With a small smile, he looked on his handiwork before looking out along the grounds of the monastery to see if there was a spot missed. The beautifully restored stone almost seemed to shine in the early afternoon light, even as Knights of Seiros worked to lower all of the cleaning supplies from the walls, and the workers cheered at finally completing their long work. It didn't take long, though, before the workers cleared, the knights dispersed to a well-deserved break, and the religious returned to their daily routines. Byleth, however, remained near the furthest tower of the most remote area of the exterior grounds, a hilltop on a remote pinnacle of the cliff face, which afforded an excellent view on clear days, for both scouting, and also for the casual observer. It was little wonder Ignatz preferred this spot for his landscape paintings before the war, and even after, when he visited on his journeys.

"Hello, dear, everyone else is finishing with their work, but they said you were staying behind."

Byleth turned to face his wife of two and a half years and smiled genuinely before extending a hand to take the blanket Mercedes was holding under her arm and which was drooping dangerously in her grasp. Mercedes came armed with a picnic basket, a blanket, and cutlery no doubt appropriated from the mess hall; the smell of the food within the basket, combined with her most beautiful smile, melted the veneer of stoicism Byleth maintained completely. Without a second wasted, he spread the blanket on the ground perfectly, quickly helping Mercedes sit down on the blanket as he started unpacking the spread as the shade of the tower's long shadow covered them in a soothing shade. Mercedes sighed and rested, a white robes blending pleasantly with the fresh whitewash on the walls, as well as contrasting the green grass with her color.

"Thank you for doing this, Mercedes, but in your condition, is it wise to go so far from other help? I am capable, but the midwives must be having a conniption looking for you…"

Mercedes scoffed lightly as she rested a hand protectively on her abdomen, quite round with child by now, and late enough into her pregnancy to cause both Byleth and the healers worry, though it was expressed in radically different ways. "Nonsense; our child isn't due until the end of the spring, and I wanted to see the last of the cleaning finished. The clergy is already planning a celebration tomorrow, but I wanted to start it ahead of time, before I have to share you with the rest of the monastery and the other guests. It may be a bit selfish, but… We've had so little time together recently, and I couldn't help it. I wanted to see you."

Byleth simply nodded slowly and passed Mercedes a plate of fruit and pickled vegetables as he himself did the same. They sat in companionable silence as they watched the clouds roll by over distant fields and the forest around the monastery. The fields and forest, scarred by the war when looked at closely, hid their wounds with newly grown foliage, the landscape, much like the walls of Garreg Mach, were cleansed by time and work, leaving behind only faint scars of the past, hidden, but forever visible.

It gave Byleth a sense of hope as his hand found Mercedes', and the pair squeezed one another's hands as the gold of the afternoon sun showed the beautiful resilience of nature, as well as showcased the determination of the continent to put the ugly past behind them, and rebuild the peace which was lost.

17. Cultivate

Byleth stood in deep thought in the greenhouses of Garreg Mach. The school year had only begun less than three months previous, but things seemed to be going reasonably well on the school front. At least, Byleth hoped so. They had only just returned from a week long excursion into the fields of the Adrestian Empire for an exercise in outdoor survival. It hadn't gone well. Dimitri nearly ate poison mushrooms, Ashe had been caught by the ankle by a snare Petra had set, and most of the students had not been able to properly erect their shelters or build any fires until the middle of the night of the first day due to an unexpected rain shower. Things improved significantly from there, however, despite extensive warnings on the more subtle dangers of the forest, Mercedes accidentally walked through a patch of particularly nasty rash vine, a plant similar to poison ivy, but resistant to the same remedies. Though comparatively rarer than its cousin, the vine's namesake wound was prone to leaving scars and severe open sores for over a week afterwards. Thankfully, Mercedes quickly realized the nature of her predicament and refrained from scratching and making the sore larger, but the nature of such wounds being contagious left her quite alone for most of the trip, aside from Annette helping her wash her clothes and Dedue stating he was immune to the effects of rash vine, and allowed Mercedes to remain with him for much of the survival test.

Byleth winced slightly at the memory of Mercedes limping on her severely affected leg as they hiked back into Garreg Mach. He felt somewhat responsible, as he had picked the location. Thankfully, after a consultation with Manuela, she told Byleth of a particular variety of white flower which, when ground into paste, relieved most of the symptoms of rash vine almost instantly, though it would take several applications. It was a white flower with a long, slender stem; a fetching plant, indeed. With little ado, he picked a large quantity of the flowers, not entirely sure how many he'd need for the task. That said, given the almost universal love of the flowers or other trinkets he gave to those celebrating birthdays and other significant life events, he was certain that whatever leftover flowers would make a very suitable get well gift and apology for his lack of vigilance.

It was a surprisingly short walk from the greenhouses to Mercedes' dorm room, and with only enough hesitation to retain a proper grip on the mortar, pestle, and small bottle for the paste to go into, he knocked politely on the door. It took but a few moments for Mercedes to respond.

"Hmm? Who is it?"

Byleth cleared his throat quietly before responding. "It's Byleth, or, rather, Professor Eisner. I spoke with Manuela and she told me about a remedy for rash vine. I would like to give it to you, if possible."

There was a fairly loud thump, but a quick reply nevertheless. "Oh! Professor! Certainly. Please give me a moment; you caught me at a disadvantage…"

Byleth raised an eyebrow at that, but waited patiently as the sounds of rustling and quick movement could be heard through the door until at last a disheveled Mercedes all but stumbled out of the door. It was almost comical how her hair sat in disarray, half covering her face and everywhere in an impressive case of bed head. Additionally, her robe was inside out and crooked, her slippers were on the wrong feet, and a lone strip of bandage was hanging off of her leg, through the bottom of the hastily thrown on robe. To his credit, Byleth didn't react outwardly, but he had to make an effort not to allow his amusement at Mercedes' disarray to color his voice as he held up the collection of flowers. Before he could react, though, Mercedes gasped lightly and quickly fixed her hair, though she was smiling this time.

"Oh, professor! Thank you! Though isn't it tradition for the women to give white flowers during Garland Moon?"

Byleth's expression, impassive as it normally was, died an ugly death as his neutral expression morphed quickly from confusion, realization, surprise, and finally, embarrassment. How such a thing could look never occurred to him, and he wondered if Manuela intentionally timed her revelation of this cure with one of the first days of Garland Moon. Regardless, the books she showed him were legitimate, though the timing could certainly have been better. "Oh, romance was not the intent behind this particular gift; my apologies for how this must look. I learned of a remedy for your ailment and it comes from these flowers, so I thought it best to make it as close to you as possible to ensure the swiftest treatment of your injury… And I also thoughtlessly believed it to be something of an apology gift for my lack of attention which led to your injury to begin with."

Mercedes let out a quiet laugh and stepped back to allow the professor into her chambers. A prospect that, thinking about it now, looked even worse considering the accidental gift he had presented. Silent self-reprimand aside, he quickly set the bundle of flowers onto Mercedes' nightstand and set to work, pointedly not looking around the room to attempt to save himself even a shred of dignity. "I apologize for how this may look. I promise I only intended to help."

Mercedes smiled and waved off the apology. "It's fine. This is hardly the worst thing that could have happened. Besides, if you have something that can help, I would be more than happy to try; the rash vine certainly lives up to its name in the worst of ways."

Byleth nodded and quickly made a fairly significant amount of paste from just a few of the flowers. After collecting it from the mortar and putting it into the jar he'd brought, he nodded decisively and turned to go. "I am sorry once again. I hope the salve works. Please, keep the flowers and speak to Manuela if you need to make more. Thank you for your time." With that, he departed.

Mercedes simply giggle to herself, allowing her inner schoolgirl a moment to titter about the handsome professor taking care of her for a moment before setting to work actually applying the salve.

Interestingly, though, six years later, Mercedes would be giving him a garland of the same type of flowers for their intended purpose between a husband and wife.

18. Blonde

The first time Byleth laid eyes on his students, they each stood out in a unique way; Dimitri's earnest posture, Felix's dismissive aloofness, and Annette's eagerness to name but a few. However, one of the most eye-catching things he noticed was a wonderful head of almost platinum blonde hair near the middle of the classroom. Being raised in a mercenary camp, practicality was king, and long hair did little but get in the way, so Byleth had only rarely seen hair any longer than his own father's. It was something of a realization that he was no longer a machine of war, but rather, an instrument of peacetime. He was grateful for his ability to keep his surprise off of his face, because the pause in his speech seemed natural enough that it could be played off as part and parcel to his inexperience. Nevertheless, Miss Martritz had his attention; despite the professional barrier he had to retain, he couldn't deny a certain level of interest, though nothing more.

Later in the week his opportunity came when Mercedes nearly fell into the fishing pond, and he grew to appreciate the softness of the person whose hair had initially intrigued him.

.x.X.x.

The next time Byleth contemplated Mercedes' hair was during the first mock battle between the houses. Sure enough, Mercedes nearly caught her hair on her bowstring and made a mess of things, not to mention the many times she narrowly avoided getting it caught on something in battle. Though it was equally impressive that she managed to avoid the hazards and remain almost entirely unflappable about it after the fact. Though he felt obligated to speak on the topic, Byleth found himself relieved when Mercedes kindly but firmly refused to change her hair when the suggestion came during dinner after the battle. Somehow, her hairstyle suited her, even in the midst of battle; unsuited to war as one might imagine, but nevertheless retaining some inner strength yet unknown. It was a strange sensation for the normally practical Byleth to willingly look the other way when it came to make his position known on the matter later, but he found himself more than able to live with it when he saw the relieved smile Mercedes sent his way.

.x.X.x.

The last thing Byleth saw as the canyon wall gave out from under him during the fall of Garreg Mach is the tear streaked face of Mercedes, the woman he had come to understand as the symbol of the inner strength of not only the Blue Lions, but himself as well. Though many scoff at the importance of a loving and peaceful heart, Byleth knew better than most the unrealized and unsung importance such a person has; his own unmoving organ a testament of that fact. He only wished, as the rock face crumbled and he fell to what he knew to be his death, that he could have had the privilege of running his fingers through her lovely hair just one time as her lover. He closed his eyes and imagined what could have been as he struck the water, felt a stone hit him in the head, and he knew no more.

.x.X.x.

It had been with great distress that Byleth had seen all of his precious Blue Lions, original members or those who joined later, in the state of disarray and want as they were. While some seemed better off than others, none could claim to be untouched by the war. Mercedes was, perhaps, the most staggering proof after Dimitri; gone was the beautiful and delicate girl he had known, instead replaced by a hardened and determined woman. He never wished to see a time which necessitated Mercedes to cut her hair and ride to battle, used to the gore and screams of the wounded. Upon his return, he would admit only in the most private confidence that he cried the night he saw what the war had done to his ex-students. He cried hardest of all for the loss of the happiness amongst those he treasured, especially Dimitri's descent into madness, and Mercedes' quietly lost hope.

Byleth vowed that night, alone in the makeshift bed in what had once been his office, that he would make things right, and rebuild the world to be a place where Mercedes could smile freely again, and no longer be forced to cut her hair.

.x.X.x.

The day the war ended, Byleth could only sag in relief and also a deeply-seated sadness as he watched the long process of clearing away the shadow of war began. He could only watch as Edelgard was laid to rest personally by Dimitri, and if not for the delicate touch of Mercedes' hands, hardened by war but nevertheless gentle as a mother's hand upon a newborn babe, wrapped around his own as all of Edelgard's surviving classmates took turns burying the leader which had caused so much strife in her pursuit of her ideals. As the headstone was dictated in the royal cemetery, Byleth could only muse that Edelgard did eventually get what she wanted; freedom from her crest and equality for all, for in death, Edelgard followed king and pauper alike on the road of history, a great landmark and testament to the strength of her will, but, ultimately, her aspirations were not to be.

Byleth's hand squeezed Mercedes' as he stood alone with her at Edelgard's grave, silent, but speaking volumes when he hugged his companion and allowed himself to cry in front of another person for the first time. He clutched Mercedes close, his fingers running through her shortened hair as he whispered his thanks for being with him. For being there for all of them. For being the true reason he continued to press onward.

Mercedes simply smiled and returned the hug with all the warmth she could muster.

.x.X.x.

When Byleth raised Mercedes' veil on their wedding day, Byleth could only marvel at the immense beauty before him; Mercedes' happiness was tangible in her whole being, and though it had not fully returned to its original glory, Byleth found himself admiring Mercedes' re-growing hair as a sign of the rebirth of peace and order in Fódlan; of the hardy nature of humanity, and of the hope of a better future. When they finally said, 'I do', and bound themselves in matrimony, Byleth promised himself that he would see to it that the happy days outnumbered the dark ones, and that he would see to it that Mercedes never would be forced to pick up a weapon against her will again.

A.N.

I thank each and every person who has read this small collection of stories from the bottom of my heart. Though reviews are few and this pairing is rare, I intend to write more for this particular one, though for now I will work on other personal projects for the time being. I hope all who see this have an excellent day, evening, or morning.