Chapter 5: The Wolf Prince Returns

Summary: New information reveals the fate of Prince Dimitri, and a hectic battle beneath the walls of Garreg Mach begins. Dorothea finds her heart torn in two. Hubert begins an investigation.

Byleth stood in her war room, contemplating as she looked over a map of Fodlan. Their position was… untenable, to say the least. The alliance clung on in the east, but was beset on all sides by enemies. The kingdom… Dimitri… both long since gone.

The mere thought of it churned her stomach. Dimitri had been murdered in his home without her, begging that his professor would return to save him from a fate where even a beheading would be kinder. He had fought beside her until the fall of Garreg, to her nadir, and yet she had slept in bliss while he died.

She turned and shook her head. He may have needed her back then, but she needed to live and fight for those who counted on her today. She gently touched the gem at the hilt of Sothis' blade, thinking a moment.

"Byleth?" It was Dorothea's voice, and she turned to face the songstress. "Claude's looking for you, but you look like you need some grace from all that."

She leaned against the table holding the map, sighing softly. "It's…" Byleth shook her head. "It's a lot, to come back to."

"I understand." Dorothea stepped towards her, leaning with her. "You can talk to me about it, professor." She assured her. "Or about anything that's on your mind."

Byleth thought a moment. "There's a lot resting on all of us." She said at last. "On me. The last time the world rested on my shoulders, I failed miserably, which… to me, seems like it was just yesterday. An enormous failure, a long pleasant dream, then to here."

She thought a moment. "What did you dream of?" Byleth looked over at her, both confused and embarrassed. "I mean it. You said Thales gave you a five-year long dream of everything you could ever want, having given you every accomplishment your heart wanted, to try and keep you willingly out of all of this. What was it he gave you?"

Byleth looked down a moment. "Well," She looked over the map. "Every morning in this dream, I would see the same things. My students had graduated, Claude and Dimitri being the top of their classes… Edelgard too, she… she comes later in this dream to make amends with me, to tell me that… she values me and wants to do good in her life."

Dorothea nodded sadly. "I think that's true enough," She thought aloud. "That she values you, never wanting to make an enemy of you. She did apologize, in the tomb."

"Didn't stop her from trying to kill me, or any of the rest of you." Byleth noted. "But… before they can come and visit me…" She thought a moment. "I shouldn't say."

"Please," Dorothea encouraged her. "You've played counselor to me many, many times." Byleth continued to hesitate. "There's nothing you could say that would make me think less of you, not after all of this."

Byleth sighed. "I… dreamed that you were… my lover." Dorothea seemed unfazed, so she continued. "I dreamed that you woke me up with breakfast and we went off to go and find my father, who was still with us."

She nodded, allowing Byleth to continue. "He… the two of you announced that you were… with my child." Byleth shook her head. "So stupid, just a stupid dream."

Dorothea smiled encouragingly. "Quite the dream." She said gently. "What else happened?"

"Dad tells me how proud of me he is, how happy he is to be there with us. The three of us went off to go see my old students." Byleth continued. "And we see Rhea and others… it gets foggy from there. The beginning's really the part I remember the best."

The other woman smiled and put a hand on Byleth's shoulder. "So your perfect world is me having your child?" She teased gently, making the professor chuckle. "Well, I can't guarantee any of that, but your students graduated, if by way of fire, and they are all incredibly proud of you." She smiled gently. "And… I can't bring your father back, or turn Edel back on her path, but… we can talk about the rest."

Byleth looked up and met her gaze, feeling her soul weaken beneath the woman's eyes. "I…" She trailed off.

The doors to the war room were thrown open and in came the Gatekeeper. "Professor!" He called. "Report for you!" The women sat up at attention as the man saluted. "There was a letter left for you today, but oddly enough… it bears the Imperial seal."

He handed it over, saluted, and then left the two women to look dumbfounded over the small white letter. "Well," Dorothea murmured. "You expecting to hear from anyone?" Byleth didn't bother to laugh, tearing open the letter and looking over it.

"To the Archbishop's whore professor," It began, making Byleth furrow her brow. "Enough sightings have slipped through to my garrison that you have survived the battle in which the Empress smashed you and your friends. I hear you've even recaptured the old Monastery, more likely since my boys never reported home."

Claude entered behind the Gatekeeper, hurrying along and asking questions that Byleth didn't stop to answer. "I'll repay your treachery in full, however," It continued. "You see, the Bastard King of Faerghus survived his little execution, but he came to your Monastery, looking for his foolish redemption."

Byleth tried to keep her emotions under control as she read the rest. "I've got little Dimitri at the Imperial Fort. Come give yourself up, little goddess, or he loses the eyes tonight, and his little heir-makers tomorrow. If you're not here by then, maybe he'll be our dinner on the third day." It was signed by Metodey the 'Imperial Commander'.

She crumpled the letter, then turned darkly to face the others, who were dumb-founded without context. "The Imperial Commander in the area claims he has Dimitri." She announced. "Edelgard's rat says he's torturing him in retaliation for us taking Garreg Mach."

"What?" Dorothea put a hand to her mouth.

"That's insanity." Claude argued. "He's just trying to lure us out of Garreg Mach so we're easier targets."

"And if he has Dimitri?" Byleth's voice was bitter and quiet. "I know it's a trap, Claude, whether or not it's true… but if he isn't lying, we have scant few hours before he blinds my student."

"So what, then?" Claude turned and looked out the window in contemplation. "We just… storm the fort, fall into his trap anyway?"

Byleth looked around uncertainly, her hands turning into fists. "We counter their trap." Claude turned to look over at her. "All we have to do is draw them out of their fortress."

"Easier said than done." Claude sighed turning away again.

"Believe in me, Claude." She insisted. "We have to, for Dimitri."

—

Byleth stood atop the hill overlooking the Imperial fort, looking down at the men milling about down in the valley below. Nothing like this had existed before, wooden walls reinforced with steel surrounding a square base with dozens of men moving about down in it.

"Looks like our numbers are just about even." Claude murmured a moment later. "No wonder he's hoping to draw us out of Garreg Mach, we would have the advantage for sure. They don't look like they know we're out here yet."

"Petra and Shamir must have done their job well." She noted, thinking of the two eliminating every scout and pair of eyes in the woods. "We still won't have long."

"What's the plan, my friend?" He whispered.

Byleth pointed down to the wooden wall. "There. Their defenses look tough, but if we can break through the side, crush it or burn it or something, we can catch them off-guard." She glanced back at him. "We should move some of our heaviest hitters into each squad."

Claude nodded and hurried off to organize the parties, Byleth turning to face the two others who had come to join her, facing against Dorothea and Petra.

"This is being a risky plan, professor." Petra pointed out as she peered down towards the enemy base. "We must be being cautious."

"We're tagging along with you." Dorothea insisted. "You're going to be who the enemy focuses the most on."

Byleth smiled slightly at her before turning her attention to Petra. "You and Shamir manage to take out everyone in the woods?"

Petra nodded. "We hunted them with expertise. We will be having the advantage."

"Good." Byleth nodded, looking over to see she had the go-ahead by Claude. "Come, then. Let's go rescue our friend."

The enemy never saw them approach the wall from the side, through the path in the woods, nor did they see the mages and warriors begin loading up explosives and fire to the wooden wall.

It wasn't long before the camp was burning and the men were scrambling before the former students who rushed in through the broken walls. Dorothea threw out more fire onto the armory from where she stood at the brush at the edge of camp.

It was chaos, men sprinting and burning and dying. The men coming out of the barracks could not find weapons from the flaming armory, the men who were armed were dying as

Ashe and Claude and Ignatz kept them pinned or fleeing, only to be run down when Ferdinand and Leonie rode their way through the front of the now-unguarded gate at the back of their cavalry column.

A movement of heavily armored knights came down the main road of the encampment, threatening the main troops of the Resistance Army, but they did not reach the main force before lightning came from Dorothea, Hanneman, and Lysithea came crashing down upon them, and Byleth's blade of the goddess finished the rest.

"Byleth!" Claude motioned. "Go, get to the prisoner cells! We'll mop up out here!"

She nodded and sprinted across the camp, headed for the far-end of camp as the rest of the battle raged.

Inside she was faced by a stark image, illuminated by the fires raging in the rest of camp: she was faced by the monster she had faced off against in the Imperial Tomb, the torturer who stood against the wall where she saw a half-blind Dimitri with fresh knife wounds to his eyes and neck.

"Good evening, oh professor!" He called with a wicked smile. "I'll admit, I was expecting you to knock before you came into my home, it's very rude you know."

"Enough." Byleth announced, stepping forward before being stopped by a knife pressed against the seemingly-catatonic Dimitri.

"Ah-ah!" Metodey teased. "You might have defeated my men, but you're not taking your bastard-king back with you. You'll order your men to let me go free, with the king, or I'll be leaving with his head."

Byleth tightened her grip on her blade, contemplating a moment. "You're a pathetic little mongrel," She threatened, readying herself. "Threatening a man who can't fight back, trying to kill the weak and helpless even as your own soldiers melt away when a real threat comes to your door."

"Oh?" He chuckled. "And that's you? A real threat?"

"Yeah." His knife had slipped ever so slightly away from Dimitri's throat, and Byleth shifted to strike. "That's me."

The whip-blade of the Goddess' blade cut Metodey's skull in half in a single swift motion, sending his corpse sprawling away. Pausing a moment to take in the scene, Byleth then sprinted for the prince, sinking to her knees in front of him.

"Dimitri…" She whispered, checking him for life. "Dimitri, talk to me."

He murmured and turned to face his professor, his eyes weak. "P-professor?" He mumbled. "Is…"

Byleth hurried and unlocked his shackles, reaching out with whatever limited healing magic she had to keep him together as she assessed his condition.

"It's me, Dimitri." She whispered.

"The winter's been so long." He murmured. "So long without you. I…"

"Hang on, Dimitri. Hang on."

—

Linhardt wiped his brow only to realize, to his annoyance, that he had smeared blood across it. It was a problem for later, he thought, as he continued patching up the wounded from the battle, sewing them closed with needle and magic.

The wounded just kept filing in, he thought to himself as he moved onto the next person, cleansing his injuries before sealing him shut. They were still on the battlefield, but a great many of their garrisoning troops needed emergency treatment then and there on the battlefield.

"Linhardt!" It was the professor who called to him, and he tied the knot off on his thread before standing up to face the woman.

Byleth carried with her a horribly-wounded Dimitri, whose appearance shocked those around him, having one eye cut out and his face covered in wounds.

"I need you to help." She insisted as she brought the king onto the hospital bed.

"What happened?" Linhardt demanded as he began cleaning off Dimitri's face and neck with disinfectant.

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter right now, just keep him from bleeding out!"

"I don't know how to fix missing eyes, professor!" He insisted, bringing what good he could to clean out the injuries before beginning to bind and sew up the lesser injuries, but what he was supposed to do for the eye.

"Just tend to it as best you can." She insisted, kneeling beside the bed as Linhardt treated him. The man beneath his hands whined and groaned in pain. "Hand on, Dimitri." She held his hand. "Goddess…"

It took more than twenty minutes for the mage to clean up all of the man's injuries, ultimately being able to stop the bleeding and stabilize him, the whole while Dimitri being awake under him.

Linhardt continued to work, focusing on each injury one by one, making sure to disinfect and stitch up each one properly. One could cut the tension with a knife as he sewd the man up, as Byleth sat and worried, as they all heard wounded king's distress from the pain.

"Dimitri, can you hear me?" Byleth asked, still holding his hand tightly, the man shifting and contorting in pain without an answer.

The mage finished up the last of the stitches and stepped back to survey his work. "He's stable for now, but he's lost a lot of blood and he'll need a lot of healing, professor." He looked around. "I need to go deal with other patients, but he'll be okay."

Byleth nodded, still staring at the half-dead man with a look of horror and fear. "Thank you, Linhardt," she said softly, her eyes full of worry.

—

Petra slunk into Dorothea's quarters hours later, poking her head in to find the woman sitting and cleaning herself off after the fight. The Brigid woman knocked at the edge of the open door.

Dorothea turned around in alarm before relaxing. "Oh, Petra. Come in." She invited, turning back to her vanity to clean off her face. Petra noted her armor laid up over her dressing barrier.

"My friend," Petra came by and sat on the songstress' bed. "Were you injured on the battlefield?"

She shook her head. "A few scrapes and bruises, nothing more." She indicated at a part of her face that was darkened. "Worst injury I got from being knocked over the chaos, fell and bashed my face."

Petra nodded intently. "Have been being seeing the healer for it then?"

"No," Dorothea thought a moment. "Did you see the wounded out there? Mercedes, Linhardt, and the rest all had their hands full." She looked deep into the vanity's mirror. "Even in the smaller battles, we still have so much blood spilt."

"The spilling of blood is a part of life." She consoled. "The way of the warrior is immense difficulty, but we shall be saving the world from the dark, my friend."

She nodded, looking over at the Brigid woman. "I suppose that's true enough. Still, I can't ignore that I'm starting to have my fill of violence for one lifetime, enough dying." She looked away. "We need to stop Edelgard and her monsters, I know, but when it's done…"

"When the war is done, we shall be having a normal life again." Petra assured her. "Perhaps you will come to Brigid with me then, come witness the sights and learn of the beauty."

Dorothea smiled as she cleaned her injuries and taped small bandages over them. "You want me to go home with you?"

"Yes!" She clapped her hands. "Dorothea, you have been become quite dear to me. It would please me quite greatly if you were to visit Brigid when war ends, to meet my family and be seeing my homeland."

Dorothea's expression darkened at that. It sounded so lovely, but her only thoughts were on Byleth, on this stupid guessing game she played with herself on which of these possibilities she needed to embrace.

"My friend?" Petra had obviously noticed her expression.

"I'm sorry, Petra." She shook her head and got off of her chair to sit on the bed next to the woman. "It's not that it doesn't sound lovely, it does. It's just…" She paused. "I want to be honest with you, so we can have a healthy relationship. I have… a romantic interest in both you and Byleth, and I don't know who to choose, you know? When we talk about these things, I feel like I'm two-timing you."

"Two-timing?" She inquired.

"Leading you into a relationship on false pretenses."

"Oh!" Petra smiled warmly. "And you fear that you must be monogamous with one of us, that being… er, oh, flirtatious! With one leads to the other being excluded, correct!" She seemed proud of figuring out the wording for that, and Dorothea nodded. "Well, why not ditch monogamy?"

Dorothea raised a brow. "What do you mean?"

Her smile broadened. "On Brigid, a man is allowed to take multiple wives in cases of such things, I do not see why we are being any different. If you wish to join us both in such a thing, I would be more than willing!"

Dorothea's faced turned a horrid shade of tomato red as she stammered. "Petra, I-I-I… that might be traditional where you come from, but…" Petra looked at her happily. "I mean, Byleth is an important figure in the Central Church."

"Byleth is a living land spirit, is she not?" Petra inquired. "Madame Rhea gave her complete control over her church and faithful, and she has the soul of a spirit, the sword of a goddess. She may write rules as she wishes." Her enthusiasm seemed to dim a little. "I am understanding if you are wishing to be with our professor instead, but I had been hoping for a more pleasing solution."

Dorothea's heart broke a little and she cupped Petra's cheek. "Hey," She whispered. "I didn't say no. I just want to consider every angle before I say yes. Give us some time, things are very new and moving very quickly. We'll all slowly find time to talk about these things and…"

Petra put her hand over the one that her companion had put on her cheek. "It is a deal." She agreed, looking up at Dorothea with adoration. "You are most dear to me, Doro. Do not be leaving my life."

Petra leaned in and kissed Dorothea gently, making the bigger woman melt in her arms. For a moment, at least, they could share in peace.

—

Hubert sat at his desk, filing through neatly-printed reports from all across the Empire. The war against the false-king's loyalists continued as ever, and House Gloucester still squirmed under the Imperial boot.

He turned over another report to read.

"Commander Vestra,

Imperial Outpost Ökonom Nordpol one-hundred and fifty-six reported as destroyed. Scouts report no survivors evident, camp appears looted, situation appears to be well-armed rabble or local resistance. My current garrison is insufficient to re-establish outpost or clear the area out of hostiles. Recommendation is to reinforce the area if possible.

From Lieutenant-Commander Otto Hamswell, Imperial Commission twenty-thousand and ninety-seven."

Hubert thought a moment as he looked over it. OK-156 was a rather measly outpost that was rather insignificant in the grand scheme of things, and it might have even been a bit of a blessing that the sociopath they had been forced to give commission to was dead, but…

It was close to the old Monastery, and there had been reports of the Knights of Seros in the area. Something was… off.

He inked his pen, and ordered reinforcements for the area before filing away the command. They would get to the bottom of this resistance, and soon.

Notes:

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