Cw: major character death.
When she first came to Garreg Mach, Dorothea didn't expect that the heir to the Adrestian throne would be so… cute. Edelgard is small, yet fierce, like a housecat who thinks she's a lion. Unlike many of their fellow students though – ignorant Ferdie, pompous Lorenz, and the students in the general education classes who stare at her with a combination of envy and disgust – Edie doesn't act like her vaunted blood makes her any better than the songstress. She treats Dorothea with the same respect she shows most of the other students – one thing the girls have in common is a shared apathy towards a certain ginger in their class – and yet doesn't pretend that the uncomfortable power dynamic inherent in all noble/commoner interactions doesn't exist. It's refreshing, honestly.
Edelgard being cute is more important than all of that though, along with the fact that she is extremely easy to tease. When the date for the White Heron Ball is set, the second Dorothea catches sight of her walking through Garreg Mach's halls, she sees the chance for a good bit of light-hearted mischief.
"Helloooo, Edie!" Dorothea saddles up to the princess, grabbing the shorter girl's hand. As their fingers connect though, a slight, hesitant frown crosses the singer's face as something suddenly occurs to her.
Edelgard sighs, but the slight rosiness to her cheeks whets the annoyance behind the gesture. Perceptive as ever though, the future Emperor arches a brow. "Is something the matter? I'm not used to seeing an expression like that on your face."
"Oh, it's nothing." Dorothea waves her free hand dismissively, before glancing down at their hands. "I just realised that I've never seen you without gloves on. I mean, don't get me wrong, I understand why…" The monastery is far colder than Enbarr has ever been, that's for sure. "But… it's a bit of a shame. You must have such lovely skin."
Edie's blush grows much more prominent, and she looks away, unable to meet Dorothea's eyes. "I'm sure yours is far lovelier – I don't have much time to maintain my appearance outside of my hair."
The conversation moves on shortly after that, but many years later, Dorothea will find herself reminiscing on this moment.
…..
Edie is sweet, and her heart is in the right place. All her big-minded ideas about nobles and crests and equality are enrapturing - sometimes, listening to her, Dorothea almost believes that maybe Edelgard can actually change the world. Those fleeting feelings never last long, though. No matter how good the princess' way with words is, her fellow nobles won't allow any changes to the status quo that doesn't benefit them directly. The Insurrection of the Seven more than showed that. No – Edie talks a big talk, but she'll either be forced to kowtow to the Prime Minister and his allies, or they'll simply reduce her to a puppet king like her father.
That's why Dorothea flirts with her – the same way she flirts with everybody else – but never goes a step further, even though Edie's far less insufferable than most of the other nobles in the Academy. A minor noble might be able to marry a renowned commoner with only a few raised brows, but the Emperor? No – no matter how much Dorothea likes Edelgard, it would only end in tears.
It's a bit cold, but frankly, Dorothea can't trust her. She can't afford to, even if she wants to.
She's really not sure how she feels when it's revealed that Edelgard doesn't trust her either.
Edie – dear, sweet Edie – raids the Holy Tomb and declares war on the Church of Seiros, deposing Minister Von Aigir and everyone else who could have stood in her way. While Dorothea was worrying about boys and girls and securing a spouse, Edelgard had been plotting war.
"You have a choice." The newly minted Emperor watches her former classmates with pained eyes, Garreg Mach freshly conquered. "If you leave this place and return home to your families, and never set foot on the battlefield again, then that is your right. While I do not – I cannot – regret my actions, I know that I betrayed you all for the sake of my ideals. I understand it if you do not want to fight at my side."
Caspar steps forward first, bouncing on his heels in nervous anticipation as he swears to join the Adrestian army, and Petra vows to follow Edelgard next. For Caspar, this is the perfect opportunity to prove himself, and for Petra, this is the best chance she has to earn her people's independence. They have every reason to fight alongside her.
Dorothea doesn't. Really, she should leave. She's a brilliant mage, but the last few months have proven that she's not a born fighter. Witnessing other people suffering or in pain – pain she had inflicted, at that – leaves her cold. The songstress then looks at Edie though. Brilliant, ambitious Edie, who might actually be able to change this broken world.
To stop children from ever growing hungry on the streets again.
To stop anyone from living a life like Dorothea had.
Stomaching flipping in worry – she can't believe she's doing this – the songstress gives Edelgard a frayed smile, and promises to help her create a new Fódlan.
Later that day, the Emperor seeks her out.
"I'm sorry." Edie says, yet again. "You must understand, I couldn't afford to…"
Sympathy wells in Dorothea's chest, and she gently places her hands over her dear friend's. "It's okay – I get it. I really do." She then lets out a chuckle."Who'd have thought it though – I never knew you had it in you!"
Something eases between them, and the smile Edelgard gives her makes it all worth it.
…..
As the years go on, and the war's initial momentum falters until it turns into a long, dreary slog, some of the Black Eagles flourish. Caspar grows into a fine young man, while Ferdie's pompousness mellows into something genuinely sweet. Dorothea doesn't actually mind him anymore despite their past, and even Edelgard starts paying attention to some of the ginger's better ideas. Nobody changes quite as much as Bernie does though. The more space the girl has from her bastard of a father, the more she thrives – after five years of war, she becomes almost unrecognisable in the best of ways.
In contrast, Dorothea wilts.
Lying in their tent after a skirmish – it was technically Edie's, but Dorothea spent so much time there it might as well have belonged to them both – the Emperor kisses the songstress' trembling hands.
"I'm sorry." She says, grief in her eyes as she watches her lover. "It's pointless to wish for the impossible, but… if anyone deserves to have been born into a better time, it's you."
Edelgard doesn't apologise for instigating the war, and nor does she promise to stop. No matter how kind she was by nature, the Emperor was a pragmatist at heart – she'd set the world on fire to ensure a better future, even if she herself was consumed by the flames.
(It had taken Dorothea some time to figure out how the weight of all this blood hadn't destroyed her darling Edie. When she did, the answer made her cry. Whether it be by illness or enemy swords, Edelgard has already accepted she'll never witness the paradise she's fighting so hard to achieve. For Dorothea, who clung to the idea of survival above all others… the idea was so alien. So heartbreaking.)
Instead of abandoning her principles for love, Edelgard makes her another offer. "I won't undermine your decisions, but as your ally, and your… friend, I think you should return to Enbarr. I need good people – people I can trust – in the capital. Hubert would probably appreciate someone else helping him keep an eye on my 'uncle'."
Dorothea stiffens as a flint of ice pierces her heart. "I'm not weak."
"And I'm not saying you are." Edie replies so firmly, that it gives Dorothea pause. "In fact…" Her voice trails off sadly. "I think you're stronger than us all."
…..
Eventually, Dorothea accepts Edie's offer and tries not to feel like she's betraying her friends.
It's so much easier to breathe in Enbarr, but even behind the city's guilded walls, the war still haunts her. Dorothea wakes up screaming, cold and alone instead of in her lover's arms.
Edie writes, but while the letters are nice, it's really not the same.
…..
Byleth Eisner – the Goddess incarnate according to some – miraculously returns from the dead, and the victory that was once in the Empire's grip is suddenly yanked away. All the blood, sweat and tears Dorothea and her friends – her family – put into making a better world is for nothing.
Ferdie is the first to fall.
Dorothea – who's more ugly shards than a person at this point – feels herself breaking even more.
Bernie – determined, brave Bernie, who'd bloomed like a flower on the side of the cliff – is next. Then it's Linhardt and Caspar and Manuela – Manuela, the closest thing Dorothea ever had to a mother – and the songstress finds that she simply has no more tears left to cry.
Dorothea finds herself praying to a Goddess she doesn't believe in that their deaths were quick. That they were painless. Judging by the corpses she's seen Dimitri leave in his wake though, she doesn't believe that's likely.
...
The Kingdom's counterattack is both swift and ferocious. It only takes a handful of months for them to reach Enbarr's walls.
Edelgard – who's been a dead woman walking since the first day Dorothea set eyes on her – will fight to her last. To bow down now and let Fódlan return to its status quo would not just be a betrayal of her ideals, but a betrayal of all those who've ever fought for her cause. Hubert, her ever-present shadow, will stay with her to the bitter end. There was never any alternative for those two.
Unlike them, Petra has a choice, but she chooses to fight as well. She knows exactly how the people of Faerghus treat those with darker skin, and would rather die as an honourable hunter than fleeing from her enemies like prey.
On the eve of the final battle, Edie looks deep into her lover's eyes as they cross paths in the castle's halls. "I won't think less of you if you run or hide. There is no glory in death or sacrifice, no matter what Dimitri and his ilk believe."
Dorothea thinks back – to the battlefield, to their blissful days in Garreg Mach, to living on the streets with no money to her name, to Ferdie and Bernie and Caspar and Linhardt and Manuela. Survival used to be her only goal, but…
While she doesn't want to die, maybe it's better than continuing to live like this.
"I'll stay – if I was going to leave your side, I would have done it long ago." Dorothea leans forward and gives Edie's forehead a quick peck. "But… I have a request."
"If it is in my power to grant it, I will." The Emperor vows.
"I want to hold your hands one last time." Edelgard reaches forward, but Dorothea stops her. "Your hands, darling, not your armour."
Her eyes widen in faint surprise before the Emperor's expression softens. "Very well."
Unfastening the straps of her gauntlets, she places the red metal down on the windowsill before slowly removing her gloves. Stepping closer to her lover, Dorothea reaches down and holds her hands. She once thought that a princess' skin would surely be silky and soft. Instead, Edelgard's is rough with callouses and marred with scars both recent and tragically old.
Drinking in the visage of the woman she loves for the final time, Dorothea turns away.
On the battlefield, the songstress stands by the Opera that had once been her home as she rains fire down from the sky and onto the Kingdom's forces. As Dimitri – the mad king – cuts his way to her side, he looks at her with nothing but sympathy in his eyes.
It hurts, but at least it's quick.