helloo, this is a crosspost of the same fic on ao3 that was posted lasted year which i co-wrote with gatonero (also on ao3 check out their fics!) i'm petras on there and i post more consistently, if posting once a month or every few months can be counted as consistent. i asked gato if i could post this here but they gave an ambiguous reply so if they find this, i will delete it lol.
this was just us having fun writing about our mutual fave ship in an AU so please don't be mean.
'if there are any inconsistencies in the canon of this au, please ignore it. it's crack for a reason. let's say the slithers were all killed off during the war of heroes and everyone knows that seiros is the daughter of sothis.
everyone's happy and no one gets hurt. edelgard is just a weirdo. rhea is fucking losing it.'
It's kind of funny, to be honest.
Contrary to popular belief, Edelgard was always the type to devote herself to some higher being. With her standing as a princess of the Adrestian Empire, it is expected that she would be very much exposed to any and all forms of catechism and worship.
It was when she was nine years old that her infatuation with a certain religious figure–let's be charitable and call it her faith–turned her into a walking oxymoron of a devout heretic to the public.
It all started with a book she found as she scavenged for something to read in their palace library. It was interesting, really. An ancient tome she found hidden deep within one of the bookshelves, where rarely anyone came to check.
In it, she found the exalted, divine, exquisite image of her. The one who would soon become Edelgard's muse.
Saint Seiros.
The image spreads out before her eyes, and Edelgard could not comprehend the onslaught of emotion that rushes through her. She is the pinnacle of everything Edelgard imagined to be holy. Flowing, golden locks tipped in verdant green. Muscles toned from years of battle in the name of the Goddess, and pale skin that looks as flawless as her aura of elegance and poise. A perfectly sculpted figure which, for some reason, makes Edelgard feel warm all over. She could picture the woman depicted in the tome standing triumphantly over her slain foes in the Tailtean Plains, a symbol of power and emancipation for women everywhere.
And Edelgard is instantly spellbound.
(In hindsight, nine year old Edelgard von Hresvelg could not differentiate a picture book from a less-than-child-friendly tome about the holy Saints and should not have had access to one in the first place.)
Inspiration strikes the young girl. She scampers down the staircase and back to the palace proper, where her father and a few of her siblings are enjoying their time together.
"Father! Father!" she cries out, skirting the prim and proper mannerisms expected of her as a scion of House Hresvelg. Propriety, thankfully, does not matter much when it is just her and her beloved family. She bounds into her father's loving arms, receiving a gentle chuckle from him in return.
"El? You seem to be in good spirits this afternoon. What did you want to tell me?"
"I know what I want to do when I grow up! Aside from being the Emperor!"
Because yes, despite being one of the youngest among Emperor Ionius IX's offspring, little Edelgard is the crown princess. All of her other siblings abdicated their claims to the throne. No one else wants to deal with the headache that is Fódlan politics.
Edelgard's father smiles at her and pats her gently on the head.
"Already, dear El? You're quite ambitious. What is it, then?"
Edelgard returns her father's smile with her toothiest grin, proud and excited.
"I want to marry Saint Seiros!"
Edelgard prays to her muse every day from there on out, hands clasped in fervent worship. Goddess? What goddess? She might go to the eternal flames for this, but she will prostrate herself at the feet of Saint Seiros long before she will sing the praises of the goddess herself.
"Beloved daughter of Sothis, heed your handmaiden," she would always start. There is no other truth, for she has decidedly devoted her life in worship to the Saint, asking for guidance and assistance in her everyday actions.
In times of hardships and sorrow, in joy and in contentment, Edelgard finds herself in quiet prayer in solemnity to the Founding Saint of her faith. Only Saint Seiros can absolve her now and relieve her of her mortal torments.
"Exonerate me of this guilt I have found myself carrying, for I have found myself falling at your benevolence. May your holy hands and gestures guide me as I continue facing my daily temptations. Let it be so in the goddess' name."
Edelgard would find her strength in her Saint's loving and merciful gaze, one way or another.
"Beloved daughter of Sothis, heed your handmaiden…"
Archbishop Rhea of the Church of Seiros almost chokes on her tea. It has been a very, very long time since she heard prayers like this. When a believer is exceptionally devout in their prayers to the four saints, said saints can hear those prayers in their heads. And this particular believer in Saint Seiros? She is exceptionally devoted.
Rhea hums in thought. While it is good to know that the people's faith in the goddess and the saints has not wavered over the years, she does find it odd that this one believer seems to have an obsession with her. Nothing in the girl's prayers (for the voice is that of a young girl, it seems) asks for intercession in the name of the goddess. It's all about Saint Seiros; it's all about Rhea herself. Wherever this child may be, Rhea hopes she will be guided accordingly.
Though if she ever really did consider herself vain–and she would usually maintain that she is not–a small part of her is grateful for not entirely being forgotten through time.
"...In the holy name of the goddess, by your sword and shield, let it be so by your servant's name, Edelgard von Hresvelg."
A Hresvelg. The girl is a descendant of Rhea's beloved Wilhelm.
Perhaps she could allow herself this one time to be vain.
Edelgard goes through puberty and only makes her worship of Saint Seiros even more descriptive, shall we say. Compared to her young and innocent naive eyes, the princess and heir apparent finally realizes just what exactly colored her intrigue when it came to the holy image of her beloved Saint on that first day of enlightenment.
She had kept it in her quarters after all this time, free from any unwanted eyes. Now as she finds herself going through her teenage years, the young Hresvelg finds it foolish—almost downright heretic to be prostrating herself in prayer, the very tome in front of her and as she finds herself with her hand between her thighs, gasping out in humble exaltations.
No matter what others might say, let it be known that Edelgard von Hresvelg does not rescind her personal oaths.
"Oh, blessed Saint Seiros, divine child of the Goddess Sothis. Grant thy supplicant's plea…"
Rhea finds herself jerking out of a power nap, the sudden disembodied voice waking her up. She groans out in an unrefined manner unbefitting of her position and thanks the Goddess that she's alone in her office.
She doesn't really know if she can take it any longer.
For five minutes, could that damned Hresvelg girl be quiet for five minutes!
Why yes, she's flattered that the Hresvelg girl thinks she has divine thighs and blessed bosoms and hips that glorify the goodness of Sothis. But can a bone-tired dragon saint get some peace and quiet for five goddess-damned minutes?!
If the Emperor of Adrestia were to be honest with himself, he'd thought that El would have grown out of her… fixation towards Saint Seiros within a few weeks of it starting at most. But it has been eight years.
He has consulted with the bishop of Enbarr for advice. He has, himself, prayed that Edelgard's infatuation would abate. It is an infatuation now, Ionius IX is sure of it, and he does not know what to feel about his daughter's adolescent urges being directed towards a holy saint. Is this blasphemy, heresy, or impiety? All of the above? How can he save his daughter from damnation in the eternal flames?
They kneel to the altar in the Enbarr Cathedral. Ionius thinks his daughter might actually be quaking as she prays to her muse.
"El, dear, your devotion to Saint Seiros is… inspiring, but you must not neglect her fellow saints in prayer. Why don't you pray to Saint Cethleann for a change, to deliver you from your troubles?"
Edelgard does not look away from the altar of Saint Seiros for even a moment to glance at her father.
"That's an excellent idea, father! Thank you."
"Oh, pure and merciful heart of Saint Cethleann, I implore you to deliver my plea. Let the glory of Saint Seiros baptize me in its holiness…"
Cichol, who calls himself Seteth these days, continues to keep vigil over the sleeping form of his dearest daughter. It has been more than a thousand years since her slumber began. When will she return to the waking world? When will the light return to her eyes, giving meaning to his miserable, immortal life once more?
It is at this point that Cethleann stirs and her eyes flutter open.
"Ceth… Cethleann?" he stutters. "Have you finally come back to me, my beloved daughter?"
Cethleann turns her head to face her father, whose tears flow like the unrelenting passage of time.
"Father…"
Cichol grabs his daughter's hand, anxiously awaiting her first words to him in centuries.
"What is it, Cethleann?"
Her face contorts. Is it confusion? Is it pain? He will do anything to ease her woes!
Cethleann takes a deep breath.
"Why would someone want Lady Seiros to step on them?"
Edelgard drums her fingers against her desk. She is now nineteen, and still wholly devoted to her divine muse. She will be attending the Officers' Academy at Garreg Mach Monastery soon, along with her loyal retainer Hubert and many of the other noble children around their age. There will be no better opportunity to achieve her goals than now.
She frowns in consternation at the problem at hand.
The modern-day Church of Seiros has strayed so far from its original vision. Saint Seiros would never stand for this! The crest system, the corruption, the strong-arm tactics used to keep the people obedient! This is why she must succeed. She must bring down the Church and rebuild it anew. May the hands of Saint Seiros guide her on her noble quest to bring freedom to the people of Fódlan!
"And what, pray tell, is your genius plan to reform the institution back into its purest form, my Lady?" Hubert asks over her shoulder, staring at the novel-length conspiracy she has written up.
Edelgard looks to her retainer with the confidence and poise befitting the next Emperor of Adrestia.
"I am going to marry the Archbishop and take her down with me."
Hubert, as loyal as he is to everything Edelgard does, is left speechless by the sheer audacity of her idea.
"Lady Edelgard, if I may express my objections, would it not be infinitely easier to declare war on the Church of Seiros than to court and wed the Archbishop?"
Edelgard goes back to scribbling down her master plan, layers upon layers of loose leaf parchment and wood pulp paper marked with twisting connections and branching options.
"There's less bloodshed this way, and being the Archbishop's spouse is the most surefire way to have her ear in every decision."
Edelgard pauses to stare at her commissioned poster of Saint Seiros plastered on her wall. She lets out a yearning sigh.
"And she might be a controlling, autocratic religious tyrant, but word is that Rhea's… generous blessings almost approach the divinity of Saint Seiros."
Hubert has no choice but to bow. When faced with his liege's hormonal urges of youth, he must defer to them because they cannot be stopped.
"…Duly noted, Lady Edelgard."
Step 1. Get some practice. Seduce some poor fool at the Academy and refine abilities in the ways of sex and romance.
Step 2. Break up with the poor fool because they will no longer be necessary. Begin requesting audiences and tea time with the Archbishop on the regular.
Step 3. Seduce the Archbishop.
Step 4. Wed the Archbishop and use the emotional leverage to pull her strings.
Step 5. Abolish the current policies of the Church and restore Saint Seiros' original vision.
Step 6. ?
Step 7. Die and be rewarded with the glorious sight of Saint Seiros' immaculate body in heaven.
Foolproof. Absolutely foolproof. The newly-appointed House Leader of the Black Eagles looks at her plans with a sense of accomplishment. The Church will never know what's coming for them.
While Edelgard smiles to herself at the thought of her dreams coming to fruition, the Archbishop steps into the hall to address the new students of the Officers' Academy.
Oh no, Edelgard thinks. That is more than just stepping into the hall. Archbishop Rhea sashays into the hall, her thick, luscious hips swaying like a pendulum that hypnotizes Edelgard.
Generous blessings, indeed. This is the woman Edelgard is supposed to wed and subsequently overthrow. Maybe, if she closes her eyes while she seduces the Archbishop, and imagines her beloved Saint Seiros in her place… the thought of marrying Rhea might be more palatable than Edelgard first thought.
She must accomplish the poor fool step first, though. She only has one shot to win the Archbishop's affection. She cannot afford to make even a single mistake! Practice makes perfect.
Edelgard looks at the spread of students before her. Eenie, meenie, minie, mo–ah. Hilda Valentine Goneril from the Golden Deer. She will do nicely.
Hilda Goneril fumes at the thought of Edelgard, at the amount of nerve that little Adrestian twat had for breaking up with her out of nowhere, leaving her high and dry. It might have been a week since that day but—oooh! Just the thought of it makes her blood run and ruin her nigh-perfect delicate flower persona.
"Edelgard!" she yells, as she stands right outside her ex-girlfriend's door. "Open up, we need to talk!"
She doesn't care if she's making a ruckus. The urge to smack the Adrestrian heiress has never been more enticing. Hilda swears if Edelgard wasn't so damn attractive, she wouldn't have ever been played the fool.
As she was about to call out for the other woman, the aforementioned ex-girlfriend finally shows herself.
"Yes, Hilda?" comes the voice of Edelgard, although Hilda didn't expect her to show up from beside her. The confusion must have shown on her face as the Black Eagle house leader answered her, "I presume you have been yelling at my door under the assumption that I was inside."
Hilda can only nod. "Bitch, we need to talk."
Edelgard frowns and sighs. "What do you want, Hilda?"
At this, Hilda's ire returns and reminds her just exactly what this jerk deserves for making her act the fool.
"You're a fucking bitch, you know that? Breaking up with me through Hubert? What the hell? I need answers. You never even gave me a good reason why!"
"I have bigger and more important priorities than you right now. I have ambitions that must be fulfilled, and I will do whatever it takes to achieve them, no matter how harsh the sacrifice!"
Hilda slaps her hands to her face and yells into her palms. Emperor? Forget it, this girl is next in line to be the Drama Queen! Oh, and then just her fucking luck, Lady Rhea happens to drop by. Because of course she would, right when Hilda wants to wring Edelgard's stupid, pretty chestnut hair with her stupid, adorable purple ribbons!
"Is something the matter, ladies? I came to the dorms to bring our newest professor to her quarters."
"Lady Rhea!" Edelgard says, suddenly bashful and rosy in the cheeks, letting her hand linger near the Archbishop's. "No, everything is fine. Just a simple disagreement between friends, is all."
This shocks Hilda out of her misery, to the point she almost didn't hear how Edelgard called her a friend. Edelgard? Suddenly acting all shy and submissive? She was even blushing! The stoic princess couldn't even look meek while they weredoing it!
"That's good to know," Rhea smiles at them, and Hilda has to swallow the scream when she sees Edelgard smiling back. Is she tripping, or is the Archbishop's gaze staying on Edelgard's face for a bit too long?
Really, Edelgard? Right in front of your spiteful ex?!
"Excuse me. Lady Rhea?" Ah, so there's that new professor, Byleth Eisner. The one with the frog eyes. "I don't want to intrude, but you were going to show me to my quarters?"
Thankfully, this shakes Edelgard and the Archbishop out of their weird trance, and Hilda has to watch the two of them steal glances at each other as Lady Rhea bids herself and her companion their leave.
They watch them as the Archbishop apologizes to the unfazed professor and leads them down the hall and soon, away from their sight.
Turning to her companion, Hilda wonders how she never noticed it. The quick glances at the Archbishop, Edelgard's reddening face whenever she spews out her usual rants about the Church, the way this pompous little bitchtit would dedicate an hour of her time praying when she could have used the time to be making out with her!
Now that she's seen it with her own two eyes, it takes Hilda only a moment to connect the dots.
"Oh my god!" She exclaims, pointing an accusing finger at Edelgard who only glared at her offensively. "No wonder you were such a repressed bitch when we were together."
Edelgard could not take any more offense. "Excuse me?!"
Hilda drives her finger into Edelgard's still rosy cheek, mocking, irritating and perhaps teasing her all at once.
"You're crushing on the mother of all repressed bitches!"
That Hresvelg girl. She intrigues Rhea.
After years, years of hearing pining prayers in her head without context, Rhea finally has a face to the serial worshiper who interrupts her repose every hour. And there is something so interesting about Edelgard that makes Rhea think about her almost as much as Edelgard thinks about Saint Seiros.
Rhea should feel weird knowing that this girl thinks of her long legs that span for days and lush thighs that can crush her head if she so pleases. Not to mention that she's now hearing her own name as a form of temptation from Edelgard's current agenda.
(Rhea ignores that technically she is the agenda.)
"Divine heart of Seiros, grant me the fortitude to overcome the seduction of Rhea's hips, that I may be the enactor of your holy will."
Dearest Mother, give her strength.
Oh, and let's not forget that little confession that was so shocking that it woke poor Flayn up from her thousand-year slumber. Seteth still won't leave the matter to rest.
Still, there is something to be said about holding responsibility over your devotee, and as much the embarrassment is much close to swallowing her whole, Rhea can't stop herself from giving in to her curiosity.
She must know who Edelgard von Hresvelg is behind her worship.
Edelgard didn't think that it would be so easy to ask for an audience with the Archbishop, considering that her schedule must be so hectic.
But Rhea didn't need much persuading when she asked her out for tea. In fact, the Archbishop looked at her with an unreadable expression on her face, then smiled knowingly. Edelgards finds herself guarded at the sight. Her thoughts turn in her head, and she wonders if the Archbishop knows what she's planning.
She must remain vigilant, then. Who knows if the Church of Seiros is onto her? Her noble quest for the reformation of the Church rests upon her humble and heavy shoulders.
Her beloved Saint Seiros would be so proud if she could see her now.
"Lady Rhea!" she shakes herself out of her stupor, as she sits across the older woman who found herself choking on a tea biscuit. Her hands shake as she carefully lowers down the treat on the table and gives Edelgard a placating wave.
"Are you alright?" Edelgard says. "Should I get you water?"
"No, no, I'm fine. Do not worry for me, dear," Rhea waves at her placatingly, and Edelgard can't do anything but go back to her seat.
"Is everything alright?" she asks, and ignores the sudden blush on the older woman's pale cheeks. "You just–"
"Everything is fine. I was distracted, that's all." the older woman coughed, her gaze flitting away from lilac eyes. Edelgard finds it odd but she doesn't question it. Rhea clears her throat to change the subject.
"Why don't you tell me about yourself, Edelgard? I heard from the bishop of Enbarr that you are one of the most devout adherents to the faith he has ever seen."
"Ah," Edelgard says, her smile a bit too wide, because she may as well announce her plans to overthrow the status quo if she admits to anything. "I have always been inspired by the strength of Saint Seiros. She is my patron saint, if you will."
Patron saint of my pussy. Oh Seiros, the things I would let her do to me should I be blessed by her holy presence. How I'd worship her from head to toe, kissing from the tips of her toes as she pins me with her powerful gaze…
Rhea grips her dress, trying to stop herself from choking on her tea again. Oh, dearest Mother who art in the Blue Sea Star, preserve her.
"I-is that so? What exactly is it about Saint Seiros that has captured you?"
"Her undying devotion to Fódlan and its people. She is the ideal role model for a future ruler such as myself," Edelgard declares with a glint in her eye. She really does admire the lengths Saint Seiros went through to liberate Fódlan from its woes.
…But perhaps not as much as she admires the distinct brutality of the way she felled her enemies, crushing them with such ease that Edelgard wishes she could be one of them. Just enough to feel her strength, and preferably with her head between Saint Seiros' legs. Oh, surely one of the best ways to die.
"How–how inspiring," Rhea says, fanning herself with one hand. "Pardon me, but has the temperature in the room gotten warmer all of a sudden?"
Oh my. The Archbishop's face is already flushed scarlet. Edelgard was not expecting Step 3 of her foolproof plan to be this easy. Actually, she isn't even sure if anything she just said could be considered titillating. Perhaps Hilda was right; the Archbishop may as well be the mother of all repressed bitches if she is so easily subdued.
It's endearing.
"No, it's not just you, Lady Rhea," says Edelgard. Her cheeks, too, are starting to grow pink. "It is getting hot in here."
"Are you sure you have no need for my services, Lady Edelgard?"
Hubert watches his liege pace inside her room. The Adrestrian heiress looks annoyed, irritated even. He believes this has something to do with her master plan, specifically her spending time with the Archbishop. She must have done or said something to vex his ward.
He knows he should've done more to convince her to have him with her during their tea time. Alas, Lady Edelgard is stubborn.
"Lady Edelgard?" Hubert asks again.
"Forgive me, Hubert. It's just so… infuriating. There is a significant obstacle in the way of my completion of Step 3."
"What is it, my Lady? Who must I eliminate?"
"No one, Hubert. Rhea is simply dismayed that I would focus all my devotion to Saint Seiros, and leave no room for the goddess herself. Hmph! What good will it do me to stray away from my patron saint?"
"It would do you good in terms of obfuscating your true intentions to the Archbishop, Lady Edelgard."
"Oh. I suppose you are right."
Edelgard pauses.
"But I still won't do it."
Hubert sighs.
"Who will I silence this week, my Lady?"
"The bishop of Enbarr. What a snitch."
Twenty-eight times. Twenty-eight times Rhea has spent her free time drinking tea with the leader of the Black Eagles, the Emperor-to-be of Adrestia, her most devout worshiper Edelgard von Hresvelg.
"Edelgard, I appreciate your efforts to reach out to me, however… this is the fourth time we've had tea this afternoon. In a row."
If this were somebody else, Rhea would actually find it odd or concerning. But this is Edelgard she's talking about, and the amount of weirdness she has seen and heard from this girl has already reached its peak.
Saint Seiros, heavenly goddess of my life, please lead this humble handmaiden not to temptation on this day. May my eyes and mind remain pure of ill thoughts despite the seductive obstacle before me. Heed thy supplicant's plea that I may hold in any carnal desires, for I am wholeheartedly devoted to you and your cause. Let it be so in the goddesses' name.
Lest she forget the amount of discipline and restraint she has mastered in order to hide how she's left red in the face every time Edelgard runs her mouth and thoughts about her beloved Saint. She absolutely detests it; the way Edelgard would reverently think of her, not knowing how it makes her feel.
"Surely there's nothing wrong spending my time with a lovely lady such as yourself, Lady Rhea?" Edelgard asks, pouring another cup of tea for her, which she did not notice to be empty. "You could say that I feel inspired to understand just how the Archbishop of the Church of Seiros handles her people."
"Is that so?" Rhea says, taking a sip out of her tea. "Surely you could hone your authority skills with one of our esteemed professors at the Academy, as opposed to taking up the Archbishop's precious downtime."
Edelgard leans over the table, her chest pressed against the wooden surface, batting her long eyelashes at Rhea. Her eyes, glinting with mischief, betray her true intentions.
"Ah, but you see, Lady Rhea," Edelgard says with a smirk, "none of those professors could compare to the sheer radiance you exude. Your brilliance might rival even that of the sun. Can't a girl appreciate a beautiful woman while gaining new skills?"
Despite knowing that this is all part of a scheme, because Edelgard von Hresvelg is a future politician through and through, Rhea cannot help but preen at the compliment. What's a little banter between Archbishop and student? It wouldn't hurt anyone if she played along for a moment.
"You flatter me, Edelgard, truly," Rhea says. "But if you truly wish to learn from me, perhaps we should do something different."
"And what would that be, Lady Rhea?"
Rhea lifts Edelgard's chin gently with a finger.
"Some practice in the ways of eloquence and charisma would do you good. After all, a good leader is one who knows how to sway their followers with sweet words, wouldn't you say?"
Rhea's hand moves to hold Edelgard's face by the cheeks. She could feel Edelgard's breath against her own.
"Because you will need a lot more than just empty platitudes to move me, little emperor," she whispers into Edelgard's ear.
Edelgard's eyes flicker back and forth between Rhea's eyes and lips. She opens her mouth, attempting to bark back, only to close her lips and swallow dryly.
Rhea lets go of her and returns to her seat, smug and self-satisfied. That will teach Edelgard not to toy with her.
Edelgard's lips stretch into a grin of her own. She sits up straight, bowing with a hand to her chest, in playful reverence.
"Forgive this humble believer in the faith for her brazen behavior, Lady Rhea. But how could I help myself when such a stunning maiden such as yourself sits before me, ripe for the taking?"
Ooh, and Rhea is always reminded of how very verbose the younger woman is. If the words Edelgard spouts can fluster her so easily, then what more the adoration she receives from every prayer in her mind?
Remember, she is here to bring down the Church, Rhea reminds herself, puffing inwardly as she stares at Edelgard. No matter what honeyed words Edelgard gives in order to gain her affections, it is nothing more than a lie for Rhea knows that Edelgard has always and will only be truly devoted to Saint Seiros.
She tries not to think about how much the thought disappoints her. The irony is not lost on her, being Saint Seiros herself. But Edelgard does not desire Seiros herself, as she is in the present day as a living, breathing person; Edelgard desires the idea of Seiros exalted in the holy scriptures and lusted after in the pornographic leaflets that circulate across the continent. Rhea tries not to think about how much she missed just talking to someone about anything and everything. Even if Edelgard is just using her, she can't help but find herself yearning for the company.
"Well now. It is getting late," Rhea says with a plastered-on smile. "I must be on my way."
It isn't, really. Rhea is just not sure if she could stand to be with Edelgard any longer than she has for today. Edelgard reaches a hand out towards her.
"Will I see you again later?"
Rhea lets herself humor the Hresvelg girl for a moment.
"My. You seem to be awfully attached to me. If I did not know any better, it sounds like you are out to court me."
"…And what if I am?"
A moment of silence.
"You are not. Perhaps you only see me as an instrument of Saint Seiros' divine will, which you so crave for yourself."
Edelgard's fist tightens.
Seiros, guide me. Remind me of my place in this world, of my quest to bring your name to its former glory. Help me not to fall any further into the depths of this woman's gaze.
No, it couldn't be. Edelgard is only playing with her.
"I understand that you find my faith to be unorthodox, but I do not make light of discussions such as these. What if, hypothetically, I am courting you, out of my own desire to be with you?"
Rhea narrows her eyes at Edelgard.
"It makes you a fool, little emperor, to think that you could treat the Archbishop herself like your own plaything."
Oh, it's not just foolish. It's downright blasphemy. But blasphemy has always been a recurrent topic between them every time they sit down for tea. Rhea subtly grips her fist every time Edelgard rattles on about how much the goddess could not hold a candle to Seiros. How infuriating. Edelgard may sing her praises, but Rhea cannot condone her Mother being put down on a lower level than she.
Oh, if only Edelgard knew, Rhea thinks. If only Edelgard knew that the Saint she has been worshiping is here and right in front of her. That she has greatly displeased her muse, her patron saint, her guiding light. If she were to reveal herself, would Edelgard kneel and beg for her forgiveness, her love?
Edelgard stands tall to face Rhea, taking measured, firm steps towards her.
"Then continue allowing me to be a fool," she says, the frustration in her voice shattering her illusion of honesty. "Allow me to be a fool who could take you by the hand every morning just to tell you how beautiful you are. A fool who could tell you how much she yearns for your attention."
Edelgard meets Rhea, chest-to-chest.
"I will gladly take on any role for you, if it means I get to be by your side, Lady Rhea," she says, dripping with venom.
Rhea glares at the girl before her.
"Do you see why you are in dire need of instruction in the fine art of verbiage? If you are going to pretend to be interested in me as a person, perhaps you should try doing so without having your irritation seep into every word."
Edelgard's frown reveals itself.
"Lady Rhea, if–"
Rhea raises a hand to silence the girl.
"That is enough, Edelgard. Now leave me be."
Edelgard does not heed her instruction.
The stubborn woman has been following her even outside their exclusive time. The only reason why Rhea hasn't been explicitly calling her out is because she is still attending her classes. But even when classes are done, Edelgard is relentless in her pursuit of her attention and time.
Even now, when she had just stepped out of a meeting, the first person she sees is the Hresvelg heiress. The chestnut haired woman perks up at her presence and Rhea ignores the small flutter in her chest as Edelgard quickly closes in on her.
"Lady Rhea–"
"Spare me the formalities, dear child." She sighs and Rhea can feel the headache forming in her head. "How many times have I told you to leave me alone?"
She might have said that, but she doesn't dissuade Edelgard from walking alongside her. She doesn't know where she's leading them but Rhea knows they should be away from prying eyes. The tired Archbishop pretends not to hear the curious stares and talks around her.
Oh, great. They're gathering an unnecessary amount of spectators.
"You will have to say that again many times over, that you will believe me when I say that I am ready and willing to dedicate myself to you."
Rhea wants to laugh it off. Believe her? Like she doesn't hear the proud heretic spout her praises to Seiros behind the soft smiles and smirks directed to Rhea? Totally believable.
"Is that so? I have heard about your rants against the Church of Seiros from Professor Manuela. You have been saying that the Church must have been manipulating the government behind the scenes, and that your patron saint would not ever stand for the current state of affairs. Yes, how convincing you are of your devotion."
Edelgard pauses in her steps, and Rhea hopes to the goddess that her deflection worked in fending Edelgard off. However, it seems to do the opposite. In fact, it only turns out to disgruntle the Adrestian heiress beside her.
"What would you have me do then? Renounce my faith in Saint Seiros and ask for forgiveness from your merciful goddess?"
Rhea stops walking and spins towards Edelgard, incensed.
"Might I remind you of who you are speaking to? You are talking to the Archbishop!" Rhea hisses at her, scowling at the stubborn girl. "Do not speak out of turn, little emperor. Know your place. I can send for the Knights to relieve me of your presence."
She can't deny the glee she feels at the glower on Edelgard's face. Ha! See how it feels to be on the receiving end of her agitation.
This only seems to raise the other woman's hackles. Edelgard's eyes are lighting up as if she knows something Rhea doesn't. The Archbishop resists the urge to snarl at her.
"Then why haven't you, Archbishop?" Edelgard simpers, approaching her with slow and steady steps. Edelgard's head holds high as she regards Rhea with the cockiness and arrogance stereotypical of her noble status.
"You have had so many chances to punish me for my so-called insolence," Edelgard taunts, voice lowering with spite. "Why, you could have rebuffed me for my advances, but never once have you told me off outright."
Edelgard's eyes shine with the ferocity of a bird of prey, reminiscent of her house.
"You call me a fool but what does that make you, Archbishop? A coward, incapable of speaking up for herself?"
Rhea's irises almost split into those of a dragon's. She is careful to control herself, lest she transform by accident and wreak havoc over a petulant, insufferable student.
"Do not play games with me, girl. I am losing my patience, as we speak," Rhea continues forward, trying to leave Edelgard behind.
"I know you feel it too, Lady Rhea," Edelgard drawls out as Rhea leaves her to her lonesome.
The Archbishop doesn't dignify that with a response.
Rhea wishes she doesn't feel the treacherous quiver in her guts. She knew that she had flown too close to the sun, and now here she is, about to crash and fall. Curse her curiosity for wanting to understand just what makes her ignorant, devoted follower tick.
Surely, Rhea must know that she should stop right now. Avoid the damn Hresvelg girl and ignore all petitions coming out from Edelgard's soul. Surely, Edelgard knows by now that nothing is coming out of her request.
Returning to her private quarters, she plops down unceremoniously on her bed, suddenly feeling weary. Rhea knows she should be glad to have made a point, relieved even.
So why?
Why does Rhea feel a tinge of regret?
Rhea thought that that would be the end of it. How wrong she was.
"Eternal Saint Seiros, keeper of my soul. It has not even been a full day since I last saw Rhea. Why do I find myself so weak at her feet, unable to carry on my path? My entire being shakes at the thought of her, of what she represents."
How impudent.
"Yet I find myself longing for her presence. Is this heresy? Am I straying from the path you set out for me? This temptation is unbecoming of my loyalty towards you, Divine Child. Please bless me with foresight, that I may see this through no matter the outcome. I implore you, my whole heart and soul is yours to command. Let it be so in the goddess' name."
A damn fool she was to not see it coming.
How could Rhea be so blind?
For all her explicit thoughts and prayers for her supposed beloved Saint Seiros, Edelgard von Hresvelg knows how to woo a lady. Rhea absolutely finds it ridiculous at first. After all–
A student courting the Archbishop?!
How incredulously preposterous! And initiated by the proud heretic emperor-to-be, of all people! This is so low. So base. Mother wouldn't stand for this! For any of this, really!
Not to mention the fact that Edelgard remains egotistical enough to ignore any and all worship of the actual goddess. Her Mother! (Not that she knows anyway.) The amount of verbal sparring between the two over the matter has given Rhea so massive a constant headache–and to think this girl has the gall to court her?!
And yet, the determination of the princess and heir apparent to the Adrestian Empire completely bewitches her.
She didn't even see it coming.
Edelgard doesn't understand how it happened. Everyone else was at the dining hall that night to feast after the Battle of the Eagle and Lion; she merely wanted to spend the time alone meditating on her duty and her muse.
One minute she was on her knees, praying at the foot of her bed, asking for guidance from her Saint on how to proceed. On how to deal with the growing temptations that are festering within her. It surely must be the magic of that witch!
She must have known her plans! That must be why Edelgard can't stop stealing glimpses of her bountiful chest, her thick and voluptuous rump. Or her plump lips, dreaming of how soft it would feel on hers, every time the older woman sermons her on the importance of holding the goddess Sothis in the center of their lives. Or, if she dare be so vulgar—what it would be like to hold her hand.
Seiros, have mercy on her. Rhea must have put her under a powerful spell for Edelgard to even think of kneeling down in front of her. Just the thought of showing the Archbishop what true dedication to your goddess looks like has become so much of a guilty fantasy she ends up staining her bed sheets every night.
Rhea, bare and vulnerable Rhea, pliant and begging for the lips worshiping her immaculate feet and soft, toned legs to drift upwards to where she needs Edelgard the most—
The sudden sound of her door slamming open shakes Edelgard from her carnal thoughts and only now does she realize the intruder to her private quarters.
"R-Rhea?!" she blurts out, her whole body freezing in place at the foot of her bed.
Lady Rhea looks haggard, her usually groomed green hair in disarray and her usually prim robes and headdress askew. She was panting, sweating even, like she just ran directly to Edelgard's room all the way from the central building.
(She did.)
Rhea's usually composed self was on the cusp of breaking, green eyes wide and feral-like, and Edelgard feels the familiar drip of arousal and relishes the sight of Rhea like this.
She did this. The Archbishop is disheveled and heaving because of her.
"Y-you goddess-damned heretic," Rhea stutters out, noticing her position on the floor. She points an accusing finger at her and continues. "Have you any idea how much you torment me?"
Judging by her messy appearance, Edelgard has an idea. She remains silent.
The older woman looked around her room until green eyes fixated on the small portion of her room. The commissioned illustration of her glorious saint stays plastered on the wall along with the small altar, complete with two candles and a vase full of white lilies.
Edelgard's altar for Saint Seiros.
This only irked Rhea even more.
"Your beloved Saint Seiros," she spits out and lets out a laugh, sounding slightly deranged. "Does she know how much of a hypocrite you are?"
Edelgard could not stay quiet for this disrespect. "I could say the same of you!"
Rhea only closes in on her, standing before the Adrestian princess still on her knees. The proximity brings a slight thrill to Edelgard's guts. Her body shakes with such disquiet, her whole form trembling with both anger and nervous excitement as Edelgard looks up at her.
"No, my little emperor," she breathes out looking down at her, voice hoarse and raspy, "you could not. How little you truly know."
Edelgard feels heat drop down between her legs at the nickname. Little emperor. She wants Rhea to call her that again, in that tone of voice so demeaning and yet so reverent.
"You say you would give your entire soul to Saint Seiros herself."
A pale hand reaches for the side of Edelgard's face, grabbing her chin to stare right up at her.
"What does that make me then," Rhea purrs, "if you are so set on me being yours?"
From below, the Archbishop looks absolutely divine. It makes Edelgard all the more eager to break this woman's composure. She presses a tender kiss against the corner of Rhea's wrist–with much conviction, for she is Edelgard von Hresvelg, and far be it from her to do anything half-heartedly–and she looks straight into Lady Rhea's eyes, declaring her intentions in sotto voce.
"You are my empress. The holder of my heart."
Edelgard doesn't know who moved first, but she finds herself up on her feet, hands holding Rhea's face as they crush their mouths together and finally, finally, Edelgard knows the taste of her Archbishop's lips. Chamomile and Crescent-Moon tea. She tastes as divine as she appears. She hears the other woman moan at greedy hands sliding down the curves of her body.
Edelgards wants to pull her closer, to rid Rhea of her robes and feel her bare skin against hers, but she feels tears. She pulls away, and her heart aches at the sight of tear streaks running down Rhea's cheeks. She gently wipes them away with her thumb, pressing soft kisses against her wet eyes.
"Lady Rhea," she coos against the side of her face.
"Rhea," the Archbishop gasps out, as she kisses down the line of Edelgard's jaw. "You may simply call me Rhea."
"Rhea," Edelgard repeats, pressing her mouth down to her neck and gently removing the Archbishop's robes; Rhea helps her along. "My Rhea."
Rhea strokes the tip of Edelgard's ear, possessive and wanting.
"My little emperor," she whispers, and they fall into each other's arms.
It is late into the ungodly (ha) hours of the morning when they finally stop. Naked, sore and sated underneath the covers of Edelgard's sheets, Rhea finds herself giggling. Giggling! What has the Adrestrian heiress done to her?
Rhea is in pure bliss. Never mind her project to resurrect Sothis! Mother will be so proud of her for moving on, for finding true love! Byleth can remain the goddess' conduit to the living world, and Rhea can devote herself to a new cause: Edelgard's happiness.
She feels the other side of the bed shift, strong arms suddenly encasing her from behind and Rhea gives out a fulfilled sigh. Edelgard leaves a peck against her bare shoulder, and Rhea hums as Edelgard slides her mouth to nibble gently at the lobe of Rhea's ear.
Rhea giggles again.
Edelgard's husky voice whispers out, "What seems to be so funny?"
"Oh, nothing." She smiles, and after a moment. "Does this mean I own your affections now, too? Will I no longer have to wrest you away from your patron saint?"
Edelgard instantly pulls away, and Rhea suddenly finds herself missing her warmth. She turns her body to look at her and sees Edelgard, in a full body flush.
"You don't own me." She stutters out, her lilac eyes peering away from Rhea's bare and generous chest.
"Oh, dearest El, but I do," says Rhea, grinning. "You are now bound to the Church of Seiros… and at the end of the day, the Church of Seiros is me."
Edelgard hisses, but Rhea can hear no bite behind her words. "Fuck you."
Rhea laughs softly, nipping at the crook of Edelgard's neck.
"But you just did, sweet girl."
And so ends the first of their many, many trysts.
Edelgard has warmed the Archbishop's bed six more times since their first encounter in her dorm room. Her plan is in full swing, she should be rejoicing! But instead she finds herself wishing she could crawl into a hole every time she has to excuse herself after their… bonding moments.
This is the awkward part of Edelgard's plan: having to explain why she is limping out of the central building at 5 AM with suspicious bruises dotting her neck while also wearing yesterday's uniform. The crumple on her cape isn't helping her case. 5 AM. It's all good. Only the knights and maybe that one guy from the Blue Lions who probably sleeps in bed with his sword are up at this time. This should be simple! Just sneak out of the main hall, hope the gatekeeper doesn't see her as something to report, and get back to her dorm room to rid herself of all the evidence tarnishing her image. Edelgard wonders if she should've taken Hubert up on the offer of a warp-on-demand service, if only to spare herself the humiliation.
"Ooh. Edie, which faculty member did you get frisky with last night?"
Seiros above, how and why is Dorothea Arnault the one person to catch her like this?
(Answer: nothing scandalous. She just visits the orphan children every morning.)
"D-Dorothea! How could you accuse me of such… such crass and vulgar behavior!" Edelgard sputters out. Her efforts are futile. Dorothea knows the walk of shame when she sees it.
"Mhm, mhm. Keep telling yourself that, Edie darling. Was he a good lay, at least? Let me guess who it was!"
He. Dorothea thinks it's a he. For now. Edelgard can play along with that.
"Dorothea, I would greatly appreciate it if–"
"Wait! No, let me rephrase that. Was she a good lay?" Dorothea cuts in with a wiggle in her eyebrows.
Oh, for the love of Saint Seiros' perfect thighs! This is impossible. Edelgard wants to throw herself off the cliffs of the Oghma mountains right now.
"Dorothea, please–"
Dorothea does not allow her any peace of mind, straightening out Edelgard's rumpled cape and cravat.
"You have good taste, Edie. How did it feel to be beatified by the glory of those exalted buns?"
Edelgard pulls herself away from her classmate, trying to preserve the last shreds of her dignity.
"It is five in the morning. I don't have time for this."
Dorothea just laughs and gives her a wink.
"Don't worry! I won't tell a soul. Why don't you sit down and make yourself look a little less like you just got railed? I'll get you something from Manuela to cover up those love bites and soothe your sore… everything."
Please, goddess, Sothis, Edelgard prays for the first time in almost a decade. Just take me now if you won't save me from the embarrassment.
Sothis sneezes in the middle of her mahjong match with Byleth and their two sock puppet imaginary opponents. Two-player mahjong is hard when you don't know the actual two-player rules.
"That's a new one," she says, sniffling despite the fact that she is a disembodied ghost with no reason to sneeze or to have snot to sniffle. "This child is desperate. She is certainly not any of my regular mind-invaders, such as the sad one who always speaks to the horses."
"Reach," Byleth declares, waiting for one last tile before she wins. "If you hear prayers in your mind, but you share a mind with me, doesn't that mean I should also get to hear the prayers?"
Sothis ignores Byleth's question in favor of getting pissed at Byleth's ready hand.
"How dare you! I will have my revenge, fool!"
The desperate pleas of a downtrodden emperor-to-be are immediately forgotten in favor of more two-player, four-player mahjong.
Rhea doesn't realize how touch-starved she is–no, how deprived she is of intimacy.
The nights with her darling Edelgard have become some of the most exciting moments in her entire life, and the thought is mildly depressing considering how long her life has been. She ignores the traitorous part in her head saying she never really gave in to intimacy after the death of Sothis, of her beloved Wilhelm. How could she ever really spend the time knowing another person on a deeper level when she has encased her icy heart in stone? Never to be open to another again for all eternity.
Until El, that is.
Oh, the way El plays her body like a flute, tickling at her reeds like the most practiced of pipers!
She must admit that Edelgard was not lying about devoting her worship to each and every part of her body. The little emperor seems to have a thing for her legs. Hmm. Some days Rhea can't even get up from bed. Her body is often left sore, full of bruises and legs that feel like jelly every time she takes a step.
These days, she has to hide from the other faculty and Church officials, especially Seteth, who thinks it worrisome that she has been taking frequent days off.
She knows she must be riding high off the honeymoon phase, but can an eternally exhausted Saint get a break? Edelgard has been very affectionate with her lately, oftentimes indulging her with gifts and time. Rhea appreciates that. She deserves a little treat.
Not to mention the sex.
Oh goddess, the sex.
"El!"
She cries out, fingers gripping at the chestnut head between her legs. Edelgard's tongue laps at her, fingers slowly helping her ride out her orgasm. Rhea moans out softly, hips undulating slowly despite the overstimulation. Edelgard hums against her clit, lapping at her spent and relishing the feel of Rhea clenching around her fingers.
It takes a few moments before Rhea lets go of her grip on her dear Edelgard's head, and signals for her to pull out. The other woman obeys, biting at the insides of lush but deceptively muscled thighs.
Rhea finds it endearing, but she doesn't want that. Gathering her strength, she pulls up her lover so that they're lying next to each other. Rhea brings their mouths together in a kiss and shudders at the taste of herself on El's tongue.
She doesn't remember how many times they've done it in the past night. All Rhea knows is that she should put a stop to it before it becomes another unexplainable sick day. The goddess knows how hard it will be for Edelgard to go back to her room again without anyone finding out about it.
"As much as I would love to continue this," she pushes Edelgard away, smiling at the pout she receives. She gives her a chaste peck, heart pounding beneath her chest at the clear delight on Edelgard's face. "I am tired, and I ache. And I am running out of excuses to give Seteth for all my absences."
Her El smirks at her, proud of her actions. Rhea pinches her. "And I blame you entirely for that, little emperor."
"What? You can't deny that you enjoy our time together." She retorts back, rubbing at her arm.
Rhea chuckles. She can't deny that indeed.
"Be careful, my dear. Your head might inflate along with your ego."
Edelgard gives her a smug look.
"Who's to say it isn't already?"
They stare at each other then quickly burst out into laughter.
They spend their time lounging in bed, cuddling in each other's arms until Rhea notices that it's almost time for Edelgard to return to her room. Sitting herself up from the bed, ignoring lilac eyes reveling in the vision that is her nudity as the Archbishop bends over the side of the bed to pick up her clothes.
She doesn't even notice her lover moving from her place, suddenly feeling arms encircling her waist from behind. A head pressing itself against the back of her neck, Edelgard holding her close.
"I don't want to go," Edelgard mutters, and Rhea has half a mind to humor Edelgard's request, but she feels familiar hands dangerously playing at her nipples.
"But you must, El. I have a meeting to attend later, early in the morning," Rhea gently chastises her, pushing away playful hands, resisting the call for her lust to be satiated.
Lately, Edelgard has been asking her if she could stay the night, but centuries of self-control forces Rhea to be responsible. Oh, how much she wants El to stay, but being the Archbishop comes with many responsibilities.
One of those responsibilities involves not getting caught sleeping with the recently crowned Emperor of Adrestia. Edelgard apparently found it fit to stake her claim to the throne in the middle of the year. The fact that Edelgard now has a reputation as the Seiros Heretic among her peers should also not be discounted.
"Who cares about that?" the younger woman whines, pulling at her to get back under the covers. "You're basically the boss of everyone here, aren't you?"
"I am, in a technical sense, but that also means discipline," Rhea sighs. "I cannot simply announce to the entire continent that I am shirking my duties to fool around with you."
"And so? What does it matter what they think?" Edelgard hooks her chin atop Rhea's shoulder, and Rhea gives her a look. "What? You're already doing it, so why not just advertise to everyone?"
Rhea frowns, a slew of words ready to be spewed from her tongue, and turns around to look at Edelgard. Rhea is about to tell her off until she stops completely, her whole body freezing at the sight.
There, sitting right in front of her, in all her nudity and vulnerability, is Edelgard holding out a simple yet elegant silver band. A single emerald stone shines brightly atop its center.
"Will you marry me, Rhea?" Edelgards asks her in a shaky but resounding voice, the ring pinched between two fingers. "I didn't know how to propose so I thought… why not do it after one of our bouts?"
Rhea wants to laugh. Or cry. Maybe both.
"You fool," Rhea says, throwing herself onto Edelgard as she sobs into the woman's embrace. "You foolish, heretical, wonderful woman."
Edelgard smiles.
"So you're finally allowing me to be a fool? Is that a yes?"
Rhea nods, holding fast onto Edelgard as if she may slip away with the sands of time. "It is, my dearest El. With our love, we will make Fódlan's future as bright as the stars in the sky."
Rhea's smile radiates pure giddiness when she breaks the news to Seteth. He and his daughter, after all, are the closest thing she has to family now, aside from Byleth. They would always be the first to know. Should she invite Indech and Macuil to the wedding, too? Or would two giant fuck-off dragons detract from the main event? Decisions, decisions! Weddings are stressful.
Seteth puts down his cup of four-spice blend with a deep furrow in his brows. He puts a hand to his forehead.
"...You are going to be betrothed. To the Adrestian Emperor. I cannot believe this."
Rhea could not help but squeal at the thought. Seteth is mildly disturbed at the sight. The Archbishop does not squeal.
"Oh, but she is the most wonderful person once you get to know her, Seteth! Why, she almost reminds me of my Wilhelm."
And at the mention of the man who started the Hresvelg dynasty, Seteth pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. Ah. That's why.
"I believe the modern parlance would refer to this as a 'rebound centuries in the making'."
Rhea's smile does not break, too busy riding the high of her engagement to notice his jab.
"What ever could you mean, Seteth?"
Seteth stares at her incredulously before sipping his tea.
"Never mind that, Rhea. I wish you both happiness in your new life together."
Byleth is not in a good mood today. Sothis is still gloating over her fifty-eighth monastery bingo win against her. They really need to stop betting on the students' love lives. She can't keep begging Seteth for additional allowance anymore. And to put salt in the wound, she has another audience with the creepy Archbishop whose knights kidnapped her and her dad to force gainful employment at the monastery onto them.
"What a creepy lady," says Sothis, snacking on her ghostly bag of crisp corn chips. "She has a face only a mother could love."
The dramatic irony flies safely above Byleth and Sothis' heads.
The mind-gremlin isn't even wrong. There was that one time Rhea called Byleth 'mommy' by accident, and it was so disturbing that it made Byleth cancel the seven lunchtime meals she was supposed to share with her students. But hey, on the bright side, Rhea seems to have toned down the creepiness lately! Still, Byleth puts on her best empty frog face before entering Rhea's domain. A mercenary must always be prepared for creeps.
She heaves the doors to the Archbishop's chambers open, where Lady Rhea awaits her expectantly.
"It is good to see you, Professor. I have a request of great personal significance to me that I would ask of you."
Byleth stares at the Archbishop with her hollow, unfeeling frog eyes. Rhea, who is not fluent in Byleth language, takes this to mean intrigue and a sign to continue explaining herself. She swoons.
"As you may already know, I shall be married to my beautiful, darling, lovely emperor Edelgard."
Oh, Byleth knows all too well. That's what got Sothis her fifty-eighth win in monastery bingo, costing Byleth 4,826G in bets. She's still bitter about it. Rhea continues blabbing.
"The Archbishop cannot preside over her own ceremony, however. I am asking if you would be so kind as to take over my role as Archbishop on my special day."
Byleth is pulled out of her griping and blinks twice. In Byleth language, this is most certainly a sign of utter confusion.
"Why don't you make Seteth do it? I don't know how to be holy."
Rhea only gives Byleth her usual mysterious Archbishop smile.
"The blessings of the goddess are with you. I would be delighted to have the goddess herself celebrating the happiest day of my life."
Byleth looks to the side to hear what Sothis has to say. To everyone else, this looks like she is talking to herself. The monastery residents chalk this off as yet another Byleth-ism they can hardly comprehend.
"Sothis says 'that's wack', but okay."
Rhea beams. 'Wack' surely means Mother's wholehearted approval! And who is she to question Mother's divine wisdom?
"Excellent! Thank you for your time, Professor. There is no need to practice any of the traditional customs when you preside over our wedding vows. Do what you think is best," Rhea says.
Byleth shrugs and leaves without another word while Sothis starts writing up the next round of monastery bingo in her head.
"Round number fifty-nine's theme is the upcoming wedding," Sothis says. "600G on the Red Girl marrying Creepy Lady just to have political sway in Church goings-on."
Byleth tilts her head in thought. She can't afford to make bets she can't win anymore, or else she'll go bankrupt.
"Bet. Make it 800G."
The long-awaited day has come. Nobles, commoners, believers and non-believers hailing from the Fangs to the Throat of Fódlan flock to the Garreg Mach cathedral. They are about to witness the most holy of all unions. The Emperor of Adrestia marrying the Archbishop may as well be the most egregious power move in the continent's recent history. Nobody dares question it unless they want the Imperial Army and the Knights of Seiros knocking on their door.
Claude and Dimitri are seated at the forefront as representatives of their nations–Dimitri looks like a lost puppy, confused by this development. Claude looks like he just struck comedy gold. Seated next to them are Seteth and Flayn, as Rhea's next of kin. Flayn looks as lost as Dimitri does; Seteth looks like he regrets ever coming to Garreg Mach. The pews on the other side are all filled by Edelgard's loving family–the former Emperor and her ten siblings and all the concubines who brought them into this world, including her own mother. Most of them are delighted for her. Her father looks bemused, and she can't quite tell why.
Edelgard can't help but feel smug as she walks down the aisle. Step 4 of her foolproof plan is complete. Rhea looks so foolish, so radiant, so… so beautiful…
Beautifully unaware of the plans Edelgard has for her! Soon, the corrupt ways of the modern Church of Seiros will topple by her own hands! Edelgard will bring about a new dawn for the people of Fódlan! And Saint Seiros will reward her handsomely with a boobjob in the afterlife!
Archbishop-for-the-day Byleth Eisner raises her hands towards the brides in blessing.
"So, uh, the goddess says to have a happy life together or something and to leave her alone because you interrupted our two-player, four-player mahjong. Congratulations, I guess. You can make out now."
And the makeout was great. For securing Edelgard's power base in the Church, of course.
Marrying the Archbishop may be the greatest infiltration scheme in the entire history of Fódlan. Edelgard doesn't even need to do anything to reform the Church. She just has to ask.
"Rhea, darling, don't you think the crest system should be abolished?"
"How insightful you are as always, dear El. The crest system has caused Fódlan nothing but trouble, it seems. It is time to rid Fódlan of its woes."
"Don't you agree that the local churches should be free to express the faith how they want, love?"
"Why, of course! Why hadn't I thought of that sooner? That would immediately ease the tensions they have with the Central Church. Thank you, El."
"My dearest Rhea, how about we unban all of those discoveries and innovations found over the years? The people will be wise enough to use them with care, so long as we are there to guide them. It will be a boon to us all."
"That is a most delightful idea. Perhaps I was wrong to slow the march of progress in the name of safety! Surely, in the right hands, these innovations will serve the people well. You are a most magnanimous soul, my Emperor."
And everything went exactly as Edelgard wanted them to.
Five years into Step 5 (or is it 6 now? Are they already at Step 6?), and Hubert has no idea how to approach his liege anymore regarding her foolproof plan.
"Lady Edelgard."
"What now, Hubert?"
"Your plan to topple the Church. You have already enacted many of your reforms. When will we put the rest into motion?"
Edelgard flips her hair, exuding the same confidence she'd shown him when she announced her mad plan to her before they'd left for the Officers' Academy.
"It is already well underway. My agents will infiltrate the ranks of the Church with ease. Just give me time to train them. Do you doubt me, Hubert?"
Hubert stares at his liege, cradling her newborn adopted daughter in one hand and holding her adopted son close with the other. Her 'agents'. What a happy family they make.
"You'll make mommy and mama proud, won't you, Nona? Yes you will, yes you will! You and big brother Gideon both," Edelgard coos.
Hubert's dark soul shrivels at how disgustingly adorable and domestic the scene is. This is what his life has come to. He has sworn himself to this woman and there is no backing out now. She is his best friend, his Lady, his Emperor. But he needs to detox by shanking a man. Perhaps he'll pay Ferdinand a visit.
He bows, eager to make his exit as soon as humanly possible.
"Of course not, my Lady. I only wish the best for you."
The years pass by in marital bliss. Maybe that's Step 6. Maybe Step 6 is to embrace the joy of companionship before Saint Seiros receives Edelgard in her loving embrace. Edelgard's reforms have all been enacted with absolutely zero pushback or resistance from the people of Fódlan because the Emperor and the Archbishop marrying is absolutely the most egregious power move in the history of the continent. The Kingdom and the Alliance and the rest of Adrestia's nobility combined have nothing over the sheer power of gay marriage.
Edelgard and Rhea live a happy life raising their two beautiful adopted children while also holding a disturbingly large amount of political control in their hands. Fear the combined might of repressed bitches coming together in holy matrimony. Cower before their domesticity and incredibly potent libidos. Bow before their inability to get intimate without turning everything into a power struggle. Saint Seiros must have truly blessed this union with her strength.
Oh, Edelgard still prays, every day. But now she does not extoll the virtues of Saint Seiros' immaculate body, but instead thanks the Founding Saint for blessing her with an equally immaculate woman to share her life with on this earth.
Saint Seiros, patron saint of my aspirations and virtues, I worship thee for your supplication of joy and happiness upon your servant, who prays to you in ardent gratitude for all the blessings she has received by your grace over the years. May you continue to guide my and Rhea's hands as we bring Fódlan into a new age of enlightenment. Let it be so in the goddess' name.
For the last time, Rhea's breath hitches in time to the conclusion of Edelgard's prayer. Edelgard puts a hand lovingly to Rhea's cheek.
"Is everything alright, Rhea? I have always noticed you suddenly being stunned at the oddest times. I would hate for it to be caused by an illness."
Rhea puts her own hand over Edelgard's, pulling it away from her cheek so that she may entwine their fingers together.
"I am fine, my darling El. You are so considerate of me. What did I ever do to deserve you?"
Edelgard chuckles to herself.
"You were Archbishop and I wanted to impose my own ideals upon your Church?"
They both laugh. Rhea adores her silly, silly El and her unorthodox methods of conquest. Perhaps it is time for her to reveal herself.
Rhea tucks away a loose strand of hair that had draped itself over Edelgard's face.
"My dearest Edelgard, I have a confession to make."
Edelgard pulls Rhea's face closer to hers, nipping lightly at Rhea's nose.
"Oh? And what would that be?"
Rhea nuzzles into Edelgard's embrace.
"I… am Saint Seiros. And I have heard your every supplication to me all these years, dear El."
Oh.
Edelgard freezes.
Oh dear.
She shifts awkwardly in their bed. But she also doesn't pull away.
"...So you heard all of that?"
Rhea nods.
"And that?"
Rhea nods again.
"Even those?"
"Especially those."
Edelgard sputters. Oh, goddess. She's already in Step 7 of her foolproof plan and she didn't know it, except she didn't die and apparently heaven is a place on earth. She has been fucking the daughter of Sothis this entire time. Her muse. Her nemesis turned bedfellow turned wife is also her patron saint. Saint Seiros did not bless this union. Saint Seiros is part of the union.
"I–"
Rhea puts a finger to Edelgard's lips.
"I also received your plea to Cethleann. Do you still want me to step on you?"
"...Yes. Yes Please."