Chapter 3: Enduring Questions, and Answers
Summary: Fódlan is still reeling from the nigh-apocalyptic war that ravaged it. Is even the reborn goddess safe?
The queen of Fódlan sat in court while hearing cases from all across the continent, the cases that had reached the highest of authorities. Petra stood at the side of her throne, her Sword of Zoltan at her side as she carefully observed the crowd.
She cursed herself for still struggling with some of her words even this many years later. She had passed into a sort of understanding where she understood most, but some still escaped her, particularly in places and things that didn't come into her life often. What was meant when it was said that a merchant's corpse was having difficulty?
"Your majesty." The man at the front of the audience chamber knelt before her queen. "Our little corner of the old Empire request your help. House Valgaris has come under assault from a combined remnant of the loyalists of the Empire."
"And how has this come to my court?" Byleth asked with something of a stony face, although Petra could still hear some note of sympathy deep in her. "This seems more of a matter for the lord of the East, Lord Aegir."
"Lord Aegir has been preoccupied elsewhere in the East, and he has given me permission to petition you personally." He explained. "He has suggested that Commander Bergliez might be an appropriate choice, but we obviously leave the decision up to you."
Petra's gaze shifted away from the conversation and into the crowd of petitioners, scanning them for any changes. It was at that moment that she spotted a figure wearing a black and red cape, a most curious choice for the conversation.
She signaled to Byleth that she intended to do her rounds and left the side of the throne, circling back around to the side. The man in question had his cape a banner she did not recognize of a broken circle of black marked by flecks of gold on a field of red.
She carefully examined him, waiting as time wore on while being careful not to be spotted. He was carefully examining Byleth even as Petra examined him. He stepped forward towards the queen when it was nearing his turn towards the front speaking to the queen, and that was when the warrior made her move.
Petra over to him and stopped him and the rest of the court in his tracks. "Greetings." She bowed her head. "The queen's betrothed has requested that the court be wrapped up shortly due to her clan's emergency." She was lying through her teeth now, but pushed on. "May we ask your name and your need to ensure that we get to the most important of cases before we stop?"
He regarded her curiously, with an amused smile on his lips. "May I speak with this betrothed to explain my case?"
"You may speak with me." She said simply.
"I see." He chuckled, pausing a moment. "Hell."
He struck a knife lightning quick out from his belt, a move she had anticipated. Petra shouted out to Byleth as she slid back in her position and moved equally quickly to smash her hand into his knife arm when he missed, controlling it and moving to disarm him.
She had, however, lost sight of his other arm, from which he tossed a ball of fire as hard as he possibly could towards the queen. Cursing, Petra tightened her pressure on the knife hand until a moment later when the bone snapped and he dropped it, screaming.
Petra pinned him to the floor and kept him there, glancing over to see a perfectly intact Byleth moving to her, a scorched mark covering the wall where his flames had struck.
"Well done." Byleth nodded.
"Had I moved quicker." She lamented as she picked up the man, pinning his arms behind his back without care to the pain it brought him when she put pressure on his broken bone. "Talk."
He regarded Byleth curiously. "I should have known, the women who defeated Lady Hresvelg were not easily defeated."
Byleth met him with an icy stare. By now the audience chamber had been emptied by the rest of her guards and they spoke privately. "I'm glad you are pleased with my bodyguard's talent, and would recommend you listen to her: talk." A moment of silence passed. "Petra." The queen said without taking her eyes off of him, and the other woman put pressure on the bone until he cried out. "I've plenty of time."
"You and your kingdom of whores." He spat at her. "When the Empire fell, some of us lost everything we had. Everything! The Empire stood a millennium, it would have stood another had the bitch of the Goddess not come to destroy our Lady's dream."
"A dream you felt so compelled to follow that you felt compelled to make a suicidal last stand inside of a fortress full of people who would have your head no matter whether you succeeded." She rhythmically spelled out the stupidity of his situation. "What dream of the mad empress are you so intent to follow?"
He examined her, his eyes fearful now. "Lady Hresvelg promised an end to nobility, of a free and fair civilization built on the back of our work, not our parentage. I… there's going to be people coming for you, queen whore. People who believed in such a dream."
"People believing in the lies of a dead woman to the point of insanity." Her voice sounded sarcastic, but Petra heard a note of sadness in it. "I am going to have my guards take you off to the nearest city's prison. You will stay there until your arm is fully healed, then you are to be taken back East. Cause trouble of this sort ever again and I will personally ensure you find your way to the long end of a short rope. The mad queen is dead." She paused. "Perhaps a dream of equality will be fulfilled by those free enough and sane enough, but not by the suicidal followers of a false savior."
A waiting guard accepted the prisoner from Petra and hauled him away as Byleth put her head in her hand. The room was empty now and Petra moved to hold her lover in her arms. "Are you alright?" She inquired.
"Very tired." Byleth admitted. "Damnably tired."
"I'm so sorry, mhuirnín." She held Byleth's head. "Come, we should get food for you."
The pair left from the audience chamber and were quickly met by Dorothea, who had clearly sprinted from wherever she was to here.
"My love." She whispered, hurrying to grasp the queen in her arms. "I heard there was an assassination attempt, are you alright?" Her low voice was fully of anxious fear.
"It was a poor attempt." Byleth shook her head. "It wasn't so much the attempt, just that Edelgard still has loyalists after all the insanity she pulled. People that I can't just cast into the fire, either; the idealists who see only the promise she had."
"I'm so sorry." She murmured.
Petra examined the hallway for threats, then joined them in their hug. "Come, we shall get each of us food."
The trio made their way to the dining hall where Byleth sat in the center of the table, Petra by her side. Dorothea grabbed each of them a plate of pasta served with cabbage and eggs, all fried in butter, bringing it over to them.
"Are you certain you're alright?" Petra asked as Byleth was handed her plate.
"I'm quite alright." Byleth nodded, sticking a fork in the buttery noodles and eating in silence. She then looked up at Dorothea. "Love?" The songstress met her wiht a smile. "I had hoped you might have an answer: Why did so many people fight for Edelgard?"
Dorothea regarded her curiously. "You know as well as I do that I didn't fight for her, my love. Why would I know?"
"You served in her class, albeit briefly. I may have wound up swaying nearly the entirety of the Black Eagles to my cause, but you all are some of the only people still living who might have known any piece of her." She glanced at Petra. "I could ask both of you, but considering Edelgard held Brigid as a personal prize, I suspect I might find a better answer from someone who wasn't a kind of hostage."
"I see." Dorothea nodded. "Well… Edelgard was charismatic in all of the ways that Hubert and Dimitri weren't. Claude was as charismatic, but she did have her own way around people. She had a… commanding presence. And…" She paused.
"Please, continue." Byleth nodded after a moment.
"Forgive me, my love." She chuckled. "But she had… a dream that was easy to believe in. So many people have been trampled by Crests, so many people crushed by an outdated and oversized nobility. I… I believe that she had good intentions, in the end. She simply started believing her own lies.
She started believing in her own dream so dearly that everything else began to look disposable in pursuit of it. She disposed of you, the Black Eagles, Rhea, even Hubert in the end. She worked with the worst kind of monsters, did unspeakable, unconscionable things, in the name of something she had sold herself on.
I think… when her dream never manifested, when the sacrifices mounted and she began to see what she had done, she… broke. She sacrificed herself into the hedgemon demon, choosing any other way out than to admit her failure."
Byleth nodded sadly. "I had… thought the same thing. It's a terrible thing when the world's most vivid dreamers lose sight of reality, when your dreams are so beautiful that you create a living hell in it's name. Other people must have seen its beauty, like the man who attacked me, a man who intended to go to his grave in the name of a dead woman's lies." She reflected. "How different it might have been if I had taught her."
"Do not think that way, chuisle." Petra admonished her gently. "You made the right choices, and we are all thankful that you were there to save us from the madness." She cupped Byleth's cheek. "It is because of you that the world still stands."
Byleth smiled, and the three finished their dish before leaving. It was late in the evening now and the three retired to their quarters. Petra locked the door behind them and Byleth slipped out of her regal regalia, grabbing a nightgown.
Before she could put it on, however, Dorothea approached her from behind, kissing her shoulder. "My sweetest love." She whispered in the queen's ear. "Please let me take care of you, you've had such a long day." She reached around and grasped Byleth's soft cock. "Please?"
Byleth gently hardened in her touch and gave a soft, breathy chuckle. "Dorothea," She breathed. "I swear you always know how to push my buttons."
"I'm not hearing a no." Byleth was half-erect now, hard enough that the songstress could stroke her length. "Please?"
"How can I deny you?" She smiled, pulling her fiancée's hand away from her so that she could turn and kiss the woman.
Petra smiled at them and moved to go make tea for the three of them. It would be her turn soon anyway, and she didn't wish to break their moment, welcome as she might be to do so.
Byleth sat at the edge of the bed and Dorothea grabbed a pillow to put under her knees as she sank before the queen, kneeling before her and pressing her lips to the tip of the queen's length.
Dorothea had experienced sexual pleasures before the professor had entered her bed, with both men and women, but not only had she never experienced a woman with a cock, she had never experienced anyone with such a perfect one before her. It had a length that made her mouth water, it tasted soft and sweet, smelled delicious, perfectly uncut… Dorothea had not been surprised to hear that her lover had a goddess living in her for she was such a perfect figure.
Her mouth opened and she accepted the now fully-erect cock into her mouth, letting her lover feel some of the drool that her figure brought her. Dorothea placed one hand on the base of the length to squeeze and stroke, and offered the other one to hold Byleth's hand.
Byleth accepted, placing her free hand on the back of her songstress' head to guide her. She showed Dorothea her most sensitive spots, where she desperately required attention, showed her where to touch and kiss and lick.
Her moans grew louder, a little more ragged, as the songstress brought fire to her belly, brought her stomach into knots as she felt the inviting, loving warmth of her mouth, felt her lover eagerly and lovingly suck on her. Byleth's toes curled as she felt how eager and joyful her fiancée was to do this, feeling an enormous amount of love pass between them in this intimate moment.
"Dorothea." She breathed, and her love smiled warmly up at her, the edges of her eyes curling up at her in affection, but never took her mouth away, simply letting Byleth guide herself up to higher edges of pleasure with her body.
A moment later, Byleth pulled her away and helped her onto the bed, laying her on her back. "Oh my." Dorothea giggled. "In the mood for something else?"
"Yeah." She chuckled, pressing her body onto the songstress. "Just relax."
Dorothea wrapped her legs around Byleth's hips as the other woman pressed into her, both letting out pleasant and loving noises as the songstress accepted her inside.
Goddess, Dorothea thought, she's so perfect. The curve of her felt so wonderful inside, the thickness was just right, the size, the lovely way she pushed deeper… She let out a loud moan as Byleth pushed all of the way inside until her cock was pressed at the very edge of her womb.
Then she began a rough, quick pace as she took the songstress, pressed into her and spread her with that wonderful length of hers, stretching her lover out as she quickly, desperately plunged into her.
Fire bit through both of them, pleasure and joy filling them as they held close to one another, took each other in joyous love. Dorothea reached up and kissed her lover even as she was pressed into the mattress, pounded into submission as she mewled like a kitten for her lover.
"My love…" Dorothea whispered. "I-I'm going to… going to…" Her mind was fuzzy as all she could think of was more and more, all she could want was her lover. "Please, I…"
She felt like she was giving her highest performance of the night at the opera as she crescendoed, giving out one last, long note as she cried her fiancée's name in pleasure, the whole encounter reaching a climax as both finished with each other.
When Byleth pulled her cock out, Dorothea was absolutely dripping with her seed, feeling it drool out of her. She reached out and kissed the queen, but quickly both of their attentions shifted to Petra, who smiled at them.
"A rúnsearc!" Petra praised them, coming over to kiss Byleth. "You two are gorgeous with one another, and you, my beloved," She put a finger on Byleth's chest. "Have the ferocity of the greatest beast."
Byleth grabbed Petra and brought her over to the bed, kissing her as she took the Brigid woman. A dizzy and dozing Dorothea sat there in a haze of pleasure and warmth, feeling quite pleasantly ravaged by her lover. She glanced over to the tea pot, wondering if she should have a cup, before exhaustion claimed her moments later.
None of them knew, however, the fatefulness of Byleth's seed she had planted in the songstress, for the kingdom would soon know a new Eisner.