Byleth stood in the war room, staring out the window and over the endless valley below as she contemplated the situation she found herself in now.

The Resistance had been greatly empowered due to Claude and Dimitri's mutual scheming, the two acting in concert to earn them reinforcements from their respective sides, Judith meeting a team fielded by the Alliance's leader to bring them a surplus of men and equipment.

But now they were being hewn in on all sides. According to Claude's spies, an army was marching through the east towards the Great Bridge, an invasion force, while Lords Rodrigue and Gautier begged her to be reinforced with what they had to be relieved.

At the war table sat Seteth, Claude, Judith, Dimitri and Rodrigue all arguing over what course to take as Byleth stood, looking out the open window to come and get some fresh air as she contemplated deeply. As the leader of the Resistance and the living embodiment of the Central Church, her vote would be decisive.

The doors were thrown open, and in came a running Petra, the room silencing itself a moment as she burst inside.

"Professor!" She was almost shouting in a shaking anxiety as Byleth turned to face her. "I have just been receiving word that the Imperial Navy has been encircling Brigid with their ships!"

Byleth swore softly under her breath, turning out to face the open night again as her brain churned through everything that was happening. If the Alliance fell, the economic and manpower backbone of the Resistance would fall, as would their most dedicated and experienced supporters if the Kingdom fell in its entirety. Brigid had to be the last priority, but Petra was becoming so incredibly dear to her, and…

"Can you spare any ships to aid Brigid, Claude?" Dimitri asked, trying to keep a mote of kindness in his voice. "Perhaps they could aid a northern strike before moving off to Brigid."

Claude gave an angry motion. "Dimitri, I need every man I have if we're to keep this new army from marching down our throats."

"But do you have ships?" He asked again.

"We have an equal force to the Empire's navy in our northern ports." Judith conceded. "Each ship has an experienced crew, we may have a chance, but we can't set sail until our own borders are secure."

"These men could help lift the siege of Gautier." Rodrigue suggested. "We could-"

"We're not going to go anywhere as long as the Empire has a boot to our throat!" Claude insisted. "The Empire isn't putting their strongest men at the Kingdom, but there's a huge force marching to the Great Bridge as we speak! I-"

The arguments began once again, and it finally broke Byleth as she turned and shouted.

"Enough!" She cried and they fell silent. "We have reinforcements enough, and the Empire's forces are stretched to a breaking point." She looked at the King. "We will grant you enough men to lift the siege of Gautier and move to aid Rodrigue's men. It won't be enough to retake the capital by itself, but we'll send you with enough to make a show of force."

She turned her attention to Claude. "Claude, I'm sending you with the main bulk of our forces. Reclaim the Great Bridge, route the enemy's forces, and set the east of the Empire ablaze."

Finally, Byleth turned her attention to Petra. "Petra, I'm going to send you, our Black Eagles, and whatever men I have left with Dimitri, as well as Claude's ships. You and these men are going to march with Dimitri's soldiers to reclaim Gautier and its ports, where you'll meet up with Claude's navy and go to break the siege of Brigid."

She looked at all of them, who remained silent. "The enemy's stretched incredibly thin, and they don't know we're coming. We'll defeat their forces at every turn, all at once, and overwhelm them on every single front as a show of force."

A moment of silence came over them. "Where will you be in all of this?" Dimitri spoke at last.

Byleth's eyes came over to Claude. "You and your spies seem to know everything going on the Empire. Where are Edelgard and Hubert?"

Claude cleared his throat uncertainly. "Edelgard was in Fhirdiad as of a moon ago. As for Hubert, he manages to completely outsmart every spy I've got, I'm not sure about him. If I had to guess, he's either with Edelgard or with the troops moving across the Empire. Where either of them are at any given moment is beyond my capabilities."

She considered a moment. "Then I will march north, with the Black Eagles and Dimitri. If Edelgard or Hubert come to face them, they shall find me on the field."

Slowly, one by one, they all agreed to the plan of action, and the commanders began spitting up the Resistance's forces among themselves to balance what they had. Seteth would command most of the Knights of Seiros and remain at Garreg Mach, with the rest of their armies being divided up and prepared for the war to come.

Byleth stepped out from the war room, heading to her quarters to begin getting ready to sleep in preparation for the marching that was ahead of them, beginning by steeping a cup of sleep-inducing tea and showering briefly in her quarters' bath, returning in a silken robe take the leaves from the pot and begin brushing her hair.

There was a knock at the door, and Dorothea poked her head inside. "Professor?" She called, and Byleth welcomed her in. "I heard what happened at the war council." She sat on the bed across from the woman. "I appreciate it, Petra wasn't so sure if you were going to help."

Byleth continued brushing her hair until the tangles were out and she set the brush aside. "I hope I have enough men." She admitted. "Petra's not exactly getting the cream of the crop, considering what's happening, but I pray it will be enough."

"It will be." Dorothea assured her. "The Black Eagles have faced down a thousand threats, and this time we have reinforcements." Byleth gave her a kind nod. "I wish you would accompany us."

She thought a moment. "I don't think I can, Doro. I'm only headed north to swat off any attack by El or Hubert, I don't know if Dimitri's capable of fighting them off if it comes to it. We fought El at the Monastery twice that day, and I was the only one who could stand toe to toe with her."

"You still call her El." Dorothea noted, and Byleth didn't respond. "Professor, I know that fighting her must be difficult. It will be on all of us, I mean, she was our sister in arms for over a year."

Byleth thought a dark moment, then looked up. "I intend to save her." She admitted. "I mean… have you listened to her talk? Everything she wants, every goal she has, is something that I want too."

"Then why fight?" She inquired.

The professor bit her lip. "The people she openly allies with cannot be abided, for any cause, any goal, any dream. The Death Knight tried to kill our friends, Kronya killed my father, Solon nearly killed me, Metodey was quite intent to torture Dimitri to death. Utopias aren't built by such hands."

Dorothea contemplated for just a moment before speaking. "Dimitri will kill her."

"He may try. He is another who I must save, Dorothea, only from himself."

The songstress smiled gently. "If anyone can, it's you." A pause. "Let me change the subject to something kinder. In this little contest for my hand, I…" She glanced down at her shoes. "You two have been so kind, so affection, so… well spoken. I had been certain that one of you would be possessive, try to claim me, but…"

Byleth moved to sit next to her. "We only have respect for you, Doro." She murmured. "We want you to be happy, healthy, safe. If you want one of us over the other, we'll all accept that."

"I know." She whispered. "But I know Petra spoke to you about the possibility that none of us has to walk away empty-handed." Byleth nodded. "I… with both of you being so sweet, so kind, I… couldn't bear to send one of you away."

"So we're doing this?" She smiled gently.

Dorothea answered her by pressing her lips against Byleth's, sighing softly into the professor's mouth. The green-haired woman let out a pleased noise as her stomach tightened into ecstasy, her blood pumping faster.

Byleth put her hand on Dorothea's, smiling as they kissed until finally the songstress broke the contact, pressing her forehead against the demi-goddess', Byleth reaching her free hand up to stroke the other woman's cheek as Dorothea whimpered softly.

"It's okay." Byleth whispered to her. "I have you." Dorothea smiled brightly, wrapped her arms around Byleth's neck, kissed her as strongly as she could, and pressed her onto the bed.

—

Edelgard stood at the dockyards near the Rhodos Coast, watching as the invasion force prepared themselves to finally pacify the rebellious Brigid folk across the sea. It had been Hubert's idea to make two simultaneous displays of force towards the resistance, to well and truly display themselves as the military superpower of Fodlan.

Their galleys stood high above the water, towering menacingly over those beneath them. Each was loaded with ballistae, spellcasting runes and platforms, and hard men to defend them. She looked upon her fleet with pride.

It was all they could muster without capturing civilian ships, a measure she was not willing to stoop to. The fishermen, cogs and shipwrights were all that kept some of the areas in the western Empire alive, and she would not be seen as the woman who deprived them of life.

"Impressive, aren't they?" It was Hubert's voice behind her, Edelgard did not need to turn to see that.

"Quite impressive." She returned. "A gleaming jewel in the Empire's crown." She gazed upon the Dromon that was the head of the fleet and spoke again. "The Storm Castle is quite the specimen, her captain offered to take me on a tour but I could not find the time before they were loading her up."

"It is the pride of the fleet." He agreed wholeheartedly. "It's a shame she's being sent against the primitives of Brigid, but I suppose they are notable sailors in what little craft they have. Perhaps the Alliance will move against us and she shall have a true battle."

At that Edelgard turned to face him. "Are you certain that moving against the Alliance is a wise idea, Hubert? They have not decided against us, but should they…"

"A show of force shall cow them." Hubert assured her, looking down upon her with his gaunt jade eyes. "Gloucester may not have definitively been broken, but they shall firmly bend the knee when an army arrives across the bridge and our boot is at their throat. The rest of them will follow suit."

Edelgard glanced back in a moment of doubt. "And if they unite against us?"

He smiled that wicked smile. "Then we will have a fight, one fewer enemy, and a pacified continent. When this business at Brigid is done with, we shall bring these ones north to swing and invade Derdriu."

"And then at last, Fodlan will be pacified." She sounded thoughtful. "If the army we are sending is not enough?"

"I shall lead them myself." Hubert responded boastfully. "Twenty thousand of the best men in the Empire, who shall defeat Gloucester without much a fight once they turn over and show their belly. The rest shall be easy."

Edelgard turned to gaze out upon the sea, thinking as she witness the low sun in the western sky. "Then I bid you leave, Hubert. Return safely, I shall celebrate our victory with you in Enbarr."

"Perhaps we shall make that traitorous opera star sing of our final victory." He mused. "She hasn't been seen since that humiliating piece."

She thought of Dorothea's beautiful singing voice crying out about those the Empress had slaughtered like dogs, of how Manuela had called out a curtain-closer to decry the endless war and murder, and suddenly her heart was heavy.

"We shall see." Was all she said before Hubert bid her farewell. Her heart ached, and she went to go sit beside the warm sea to soothe it, kneeling beside the sand and watching the waves slowly approach her as hours crept by.

Byleth had fallen beneath her and Thales' efforts, Rhea near death in her blackened chamber beneath Enbarr, her enemies all near a complete defeat, and yet she had found no peace in her heart.

Edelgard wondered if she ever would.

—

"Load up the wagons, boys!" One of the Kingdom's men called out as bags, barrels, chests, crates and all sorts of equipment were stacked, lashed and prepared for the long trek north past the mountains.

Dimitri regarded the proceedings with a cold eye, his spear slung over his shoulder as he prepared himself for the long trip ahead. Mercedes had fretted over his injuries, but he had shrugged it all off, knowing how badly he was needed.

He thought to the battles ahead, wondering if he would see Edelgard on the field. The professor did not believe he could face her, but he knew what foolishness such thinking was. If he met her, he would slaughter her where she stood.

The Black Eagles were coming with them, something that rubbed him the wrong way. They had openly allied with the enemy for that year at the Academy, although he supposed that none of them had stood by her that day.

Byleth arrived with the next wave of materiel, coming up to meet with him. "Ready to go?" She inquired.

"I wish to see every last crate loaded, to ensure we have enough supplies." He protested.

"We do." She assured him. "Ingrid's coming with the last wave, and then the roads will be clogged with wagons. A king should stand at the head of his army."

He waved her off. "I'm no king, not any longer, professor. Surely you understand that."

"Faerghus needs you." She pointed out. "When their occupation ends, when the Duchess is dead, they will need someone to take over."

"That someone is not me." He insisted.

Byleth paused, considered, and then waved him on. "Come. We will argue on the wagon."

He did not protest, following her to their enclosed wagon where they could pull the doors shut and be taken along the road. "I'd rather ride my own horse."

"Your horse is needed for battle, not being loaded up with you and your supplies." She looked over at the king as their carriage pulled away from the Monastery. "He will be close behind, and fresh when the battle begins."

They rode in silence a long time as they exited their fortress and down the long, winding road that eventually forked, most of the forces headed east while Dimitri's men headed north, across the broken lands.

"I'm not certain that you gave us enough men." Dimitri spoke as the forces split.

"I gave you what we had." Her voice was unsympathetic. "Claude's facing an army of twenty-thousand or more, and he's facing it alone. He has most of the army, but he's still outnumbered and only has a third of the Officers Academy."

"And we will not be outnumbered?" He spoke dryly.

"Our entire force is outnumbered." Byleth leaned in, finding some patience. "We are facing the continent's largest military force in this war, Dimitri. Bo matter your Kingdom, my men, Claude's army and the Knights, we are still outnumbered. The best we can hope for is local superiority, and I gave you enough for a hope at that."

"We will lose even more men if you send the Eagles off to some foreign war." He pointed out. "If we could keep them, we may be able to go storm the Royal Palace at Fhirdiad."

"And stretch your already razor-thin supply lines? I taught you better than that, Dimitri." She shamed him, and he glanced down at the harsh words from his old professor. "You will have enough trouble taking Fraldarius, you'll have no hope of going further than that for quite a while after the battle. And…" Byleth leaned in. "If you let the Black Eagles go with their token force, you may gain Brigid's support. You might lose them anyway if we refused and Petra asked them to defect, considering they're all far more sympathetic to her cause than your revenge."

He considered a moment. "They do not want revenge on Edelgard?"

"None of them do." Her words cut through his soul. "They're all here because they believe in making a better, kinder world, not in executing their enemies."

Dimitri glanced out the window and was silent a long time as they rode along. "I will have her head, you know." He glanced back. "You cannot stop me, Byleth."

Byleth bit her lip, leaned forward and then met his gaze. "Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd," It got him to pause. "I have known you for a long time, and I have never, ever stopped believing in your ability to do great things in this world." He shrunk ever so slightly. "Great things do not involve butchery of men. I believe, I still believe, that you will make an excellent king if you get your head out of this haze of revenge, and simply try."

"I do not want to be king." His voice wavered slightly. "All I desire is her head. I want to watch her burn for what she did, professor. Dedue is dead, my body destroyed, my people broken."

She looked him in the eyes, paused a second, and spoke. "If you believe that Dedue's dream of a kinder world is unworthy, if you believe that the people who spent years praying for your return too broken to be worth your notice, if you believe you are too destroyed to even try to be who you are, who have always been… then perhaps I should have left you to torturer, Dimitri."

He looked back out the window, swimming in shame, as he contemplated the countryside that he may one day rule over, should he wish it. The two rode in silence, Byleth never once pointing out his tears.

—

The Great Bridge, surprisingly, did not take much to fall.

Claude had engineered the complete and utter defeat of its garrison perfectly, managing to strike from every direction in the dead of night while only the forces from the Alliance's side of the bridge carried torches to reveal their position. The rest moved across the river in small boats or came from Garreg Mach's southern roads.

The result had been a complete collapse of the enemy's defenses. The Bridge was not excessively fortified to attacks from the south, and by the time they realized what was happening, Raphael, Lysithea and Leonie's men had already broken their southern flank. Many had moved away from the northern defenses in the chaos, and Lorenz had broken through shortly after.

Now Claude stood in the fortress that had fallen into his hands, contemplating as he strode through the streets he had taken. This was the easy part, he knew. Now he needed to defend this bridge at any cost from those who may try to claim it.

There was a commotion at the edge of the fort, and Claude hurried along to find Leonie tending to Lorenz's hand delicately.

"Sit still." She instructed, kneeling beside him and opening a medical kit to put his hand back together, which Claude could now clearly see was in a bad state.

"Shit." Claude set his bow aside and came to help.

"It's quite alright." Lorenz interjected, shaking his head gingerly. "It just- ah!" Leonie had applied some poultice to it. "Please, watch what you're doing."

"I have to disinfect it." Leonie pressed in them paste and rubbed it in before grabbing for bandages.

Claude shook his head. "You're not going to be in much of a state to be doing any fighting for a while, my friend."

"I will be quite- ah! Please, watch yourself." His voice was indignant, as if he couldn't believe he could be discounted from service even with his weapon hand in such a state. "I will be quite ready by the time the Imperial army arrives, Claude."

The leader of the Alliance shook his head, helping Leonie finish up. "Lorenz, Leonie. I need you two to help our men repairing the walls and improving our defenses, the Empire will be here soon."

They nodded, Lorenz adjusting his bandages. "We won't let you down, Claude." He promised.

"I'll spearhead the repairs." Leonie agreed. "Lorenz, you can be more of a supervisor, I'll help on the ground."

Lorenz began to protest, but glanced down at his hand and realized the reality of the situation ahead. "It will be done." He nodded.

"Just be sure you-" Claude was cut off by messengers coming with Ignatz and Raphael. "What's going on?"

"Boss!" Raphael called to him. "We managed to round up the enemy troops who tried to run away, got 'em all send back to Judith."

"Did the garrison manage to send off any carrier pigeons?" He asked.

Ignatz stepped forward. "They got off a few before the base fell, but they didn't get far." He looked a little uneasy. "Doesn't feel right, shooting innocent birds, but I guess neither does shooting people."

Claude put a hand on the man's shoulder. "Hey, it's alright. You're not the one who got them all involved in this, avian or otherwise." He looked at the pair. "I need you two to start organizing outriders. If we did this right, the enemy doesn't know that this side of the bridge fell, and we have to cut through any scouts they send our way."

"On it." Ignatz nodded.

"You can count on us, boss."

Claude sighed in relief as they ran off to their tasks, turning to finish what he was saying to Lorenz only to find that the pair had left in the chaos. He rubbed his eyes, looked around the base he had occupied, and wished he believed in anything hard enough to pray for victory.

—

Byleth's host had broken at the fork in the road between Fraldarius and Gautier, finding that the enemy force was principally assaulting Gautier lands. She herself had moved with Dimitri and the Black Eagles whilst the rest of the Blue Lions made a break for Fraldarius. Byleth expected that they would liberate the beleaguered keep and make hard time to meet up with the rest of the army.

Their outriders brought with them tales of a small, emaciated force of Imperial troops who were being bloodied at every turn in this foreign land by a persistent resistance who wanted them gone.

Dorothea rode ahead in the day before the battle to gain a better idea of the enemy. Sylvian demanded to come with her, but he was doubtless to be found out by virtually anyone who might recognize the son of the local lord, so Byleth had sent her instead.

She spied their force from atop a hill before making her way down in disguise, a heavy red cloak, her tied hair and some choice makeup keeping anyone from recognizing her as she set foot in the town.

There was a thousand men, and probably a hundred or so less, she concluded. The principal force were not gathered around Gautier's keep a few miles from the sea, but were carousing in the town that directly bordered the waters. The townsfolk were uncomfortable, underfed, sickly and moved along as quickly as they could, and the local tavernkeep gritted her teeth whenever the Imperial soldiers make sexual japes or grabbed at her, giving Dorothea a hell of a time trying to keep her hand from the silver sword at her waist.

Enjoy your abuse while you can, she thought of the men, for a king and a goddess ride now with your death warrant.

After taking in the sights, she back towards Byleth's wagon train, reporting on what she had seen to the commanders and Sylvain. The demi-goddess seemed thoughtful even as the king raged.

"We must march on them." The king demanded. "We shall burn them all and make them suffer for these crimes!"

"We cannot burn out those who hide in civilians' homes." Byleth counseled. "Dimitri, a king must be seen dealing justice, even if it must be with a fist, not as causing more devastation than the enemy."

Syvlain chimed in his support for that thinking and Dimitri reigned in his anger, looking over at Dorothea. "Have you spotted the enemy commander?"

She nodded. "There's a fine tent outside the Gautier keep, laced in purple and gold. He's not in the town, so that's where he'll be."

Byleth was lost in thought a moment, then looked at Dimitri. "We can divide and conquer. We break the siege, we capture the enemy's commanders. The enemy's resistance in the town will be sparse, disorganized."

"And anyone who tries to hide will watch as the king deals a king's justice to their comrades at the gallows." Dimitri suggested.

She shook her head. "No. They will watch as the king's men take over the town, relieve these people's suffering, end the food shortages, and then as anyone who still shelters them turns them in."

His head fell in shame once again, and he shook his head. "You keep a much cooler head than I do, professor." He admitted. "How do you keep a handle on yourself in this war?"

Byleth looked at Dorothea, smiled, and shook her head. "It is who I am, Dimitri. I have grown tired of the killing and only want to live my life."

"Were it so easy." He spoke with both longing and venom.

"Come." Syvlain suggested. "We're not going to be hard to spot if they send any kind of scouts and outriders, or even if the townsfolk spot us."

"Sylvain should liberate the keep." Byleth suggested. "He can take a few hundred of our force and meet up with Margrave Gautier and capture as many officers as he can. The rest of us will lock down the town."

"Leave it to me!" He boasted.

The entire army began to organize themselves into marching formations before setting off at a brisk pace towards the enemy camp. Syvlain's men comprised mostly of cavalry who rode off at a gallop up the road to the Gautier Keep while the main force thundered down the road to the sea.

Dorothea couldn't find joy in the fact that none of the enemy's soldiers ever saw them coming. A token force at the edge of the town mounted a brief defense that the demi-goddess broke through with her magic blade, and from there the rest fell like dominoes.

The songstress fought her way through the disjointed forces to the tavern, bursting inside to find it full of a half-dozen Imperial soldiers, one of whom held the innkeep as a hostage.

"Fucking go away!" He demanded. "I-"

Magic summoned from behind the man destroyed him, and Dorothea's hexblade cut through the rest in short order as she danced a bloody enough path through their ranks that the rest threw down their swords and begged for her mercy.

Resistance soldiers came in after the surrender, filing away the soldiers who had been beaten. The innkeep came over to her, sobbing and begging her forgiveness, and Dorothea could only wrap arm around the wizened old woman, promising her that the nightmare was over.

—

Even though the battle in the town below went smoothly, ominous sights and sounds of explosions and magic came from the keep in the hills above, enough that Byleth and Dimitri had no choice but to ride as hard as they could to reinforce Sylvain and his men.

At the crest of the hill was Syvlain holding off the men dressed in Imperial colors, yelling at he stabbed straight through a man. The enemy commander was an old man who held aloft a tome as he brought down enormous amounts of fire onto the Resistance's men.

"Goddamn it!" Dimitri shouted, riding forward as hard as he possibly could, Byleth close behind him as the fire rained from the sky and men died all around them.

"Byleth!" Sylvain shouted, cutting through the next man. "Dimitri, it's not-"

The scene flashed and fireball came crashing down upon Dimitri's horse, sending him reeling as Byleth pushed on, jumping from her horse with the Goddess' blade to cut through the enemy commander.

"Dimitri!" Syvlain shouted at the man who was stumbling to his feet. "Please, I-" He was hit from behind with an arrow and fell to his knees, causing Dimitri to come sprinting to the man's aid.

From behind the king, a woman appeared from the shadows, slipping through and stabbing at the king, slicing into his back, causing Dimitri to fall to the ground. Byleth saw this and came running, but she was too far to be of any use to him.

Dimitri rolled onto his back and witnessed the face of a woman he did not recognize. She swore words of revenge, of bloody torture and the head of a king rolling from the guillotine.

She stabbed forward with her knife, and Dimitri braced himself.

The sword never came down when the badly-wounded Sylvain came sprinting full speed into the assassin, tackling her to the ground with the full weight of him crashing on top of her and pushing her onto the ground.

Her blade cut deep into Syvlain's heart, but he did not falter, smashing his gloved fist into her skull while she was pinned. The assassin kicked him off a moment later, but she found herself faced by the demi-goddess herself, whose sword cleaved her in half.

The field had cleared, Byleth noted, and ran for Syvlain's side.

He sighed swore, coughing out blood. "Goddamn it." He laid back. "I… I don't know what to tell ya, professor. Guess I shouldn't have dropped my spear when that arrow hit, huh?"

"Lay back." She insisted, tending to him as best she could.

Dimitri had crawled over to the pair, himself grievously wounded by the silver blade and its poison. "Syvlain." He rasped. "Hang on, help is coming."

"Heh." He chuckled, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "'Mitri, I… I don't think that's gonna be an option."

"You must hang on." Dimitri insisted. "Someone will be along soon."

"You recognize that look the commander had?" Syvlain asked Byleth, and she nodded. "I think he was one of those guys who trapped you in that portal, professor. I…" He shook his head. "I think the party's gonna have to happen without me, prof."

"NO!" Dimitri shrieked, holding the dying Sylvain in his arms. "You cannot die, do you hear me? Father, stepmother, Glenn, they all died for me! They all left me behind! You will not join the ghosts who haunt me!"

Sylvain smirked up at the king who wept over him. "It's funny," He smiled. "You finally have an excuse to show you are care and…" He took a deep breath, one of his last. "I'm not afraid."

A desperate, sobbing Dimitri shook. "I… this is my fault. I'm the one who killed you, I… it's as sure as if I had wielded the blade myself. Please, Syvlain, stay with me. Be strong!"

"I don't need my strength." He responded quietly. "I need you to be strong, Dimitri." He met the man's eyes. "You have not killed any of us, I swear. You have given all of us a purpose to live for, a better world to fight for. I-" he coughed. "Please, Dimitri, I…"

He was beginning to fade, and both the king and the demi-goddess wept as hard as they could over him.

"Dimitri?" He looked up, his eyes unfocused. "Let go of revenge. Forgive yourself. Build the better world you used to dream of. I know it's out there, that you can find it, I… I…"

Sylvain sighed once more, and was gone.

—

Dimitri darkly reflected on that night, more than five years ago. He had promised Sylvain that he would try with a woman in exchange for the boy's acceptance that he could not stay up all night drinking and fucking.

It had worked too well, for the young prince had found himself pursued by a gaggle of women, and he had only found refuge in the flirtatious man's quarters. Syvlain had promised to help him save his reputation and…

It was a haunting, dark memory, and Dimitri could not discard it from his mind. The pair had hardly spoken in five years, and yet he could not forget the scent of lilac now.

He was preparing his horse when Byleth found him at the edge of the battlefield.

"What do you want?" He demanded.

"Where are you even going?"

"It does not matter."

"You're headed west?" she asked. "Off to go gut Edelgard? Go put your aunt to the sword?" He paused. "You think that will appease the man who asked you to end the violence?"

"Silence!" He roared. "You have no idea what you are talking about!" The king's voice broke. "D-death is… the end. No matter how much regret a person has, what Sylvain wanted, after death, they are powerless." He shook his head. "They cannot seek out revenge, cannot hate the living like I can. Those burdens fall to me. I must continue, must slaughter them all. It is… far too late to stop."

"Dimitri…" She spoke softly.

"Do not tell me how I should move on for his sake." He was weeping openly now. "It's meaningless. Sylvain, father, all of them… those who died regretting, they will not loosen their hold on me, professor." He looked up at her with his one good eye. "H-how do I silence their voices? How do I save them?"

Byleth left a moment of silence. "You must forgive yourself, Dimitri."

It was raining now, and Dimitri sank to his knees in the mud as horror and grief overtook him. "But…" He rasped. "Who or… what should I fight for?"

Byleth knelt beside him in the mud, holding her student in her arms. "Live for the better world you used to want so badly. Live for making the world safe for everyone you couldn't save, and one the dead would be proud of. Look to the future, for we cannot change the past."

"A better world…" Dimitri leaned into her arms. "But… I am a monstrous murderer. My hands are stained red. Could one such as me hope for such a thing? Do… do I have a right to live for myself?"

"You always did."

The rains washed over the Gautier lands as the sobbing king found comfort in his teacher's arms.