A/N:

ideal formatting is on ao3 (link in my profile). this chapter, particularly with the letters are not paragraphed the way i want because of 's doc editor.

feel free to drop any reviews/thoughts and enjoy! :)

1180

Harp String Moon

On Byleth's first free day since the mock battle, she went to visit Jeralt.

Her father was busy packing clothes into his travel bag, but smiled at her when she knocked.

"Byleth! You look well." He waved her into the room. "Are you adjusting to life at the monastery?"

"Somewhat." She nodded, looking around his room. It was sparse, the room of someone accustomed to travelling, but she saw three fishing rods in the corner and some of her favourite books that he used to read to her when she was young tucked into the bookshelf.

Jeralt chuckled. "I thought you might've struggled being tossed in this cesspit of noble brats. With me handling all the business, you didn't have nor seem to want to socialise with other people much."

"People left one way or another." Byleth shrugged.

"Alas, such is a mercenary's life… I am glad though, to hear that you seem to be getting on with the students." A regretful look clouded his face, and he rubbed his beard self-consciously. "I imagine it must be nice to know some people your age. There weren't many chances for that on the road."

"It's different," she admitted. "And interesting."

"Good." Jeralt nodded. "I also heard about your performance in the mock battle with the Black Eagles. Well done. It seems you've managed to put the brats in line, then?"

"They're not that bratty," she replied, but the image of Linhardt and Ferdinand floated into her mind, and she amended, "not all of them anyway."

Jeralt laughed. "You are getting on with them! In any case, your next assignment to subdue bandits? It might be well and easy for you, but it would be the first taste of battle for your students. You don't need me to tell you the consequences if any of them should die under your watch, so lead and protect them well."

Byleth nodded.

"I would've helped but Lady Rhea has decided to send me somewhere else instead." He raised his bag. Face darkening again, he checked that the door was shut before he said, "I hope you haven't forgotten what I said when we arrived. Lady Rhea wants something from you. Something I'm still trying to figure out."

"Do you think it's about my crest?" Byleth asked. "Hanneman discovered that I had an unknown crest."

Jeralt frowned. "An unknown crest? Not the Crest of Seiros?"

"Unknown."

"Huh… an unknown crest that even Hanneman, renowned scholar on Crestology, couldn't recognise? How curious." He fixed Byleth with a serious look. "Perhaps. Just… be on your guard. Watch out for anything suspicious."

"Hmm. Does Lady Rhea asking me to duel Jeritza today count as suspicious?"

"What?"

"Lady Rhea came to me this morning, saying Jeritza had proposed duelling me to test the true extent of my abilities. She agreed. She felt the mock battle insufficient in showcasing my abilities and that I had held back to let the students shine instead. She said I should duel Jeritza as capably as I can."

"I see." Jeralt scrubbed at his face again. "Perhaps she wants to identify your crest. I do not know much about Jeritza, except that he is a skilled fighter. If he pushes you, she may be able to pinpoint special abilities you possess."

"I see. Do you think I should refuse?"

"Nah. I have watched you fight for years." Jeralt smiled, proud. "You are strong and well-rounded. If she can pick any special ability out, I should like to know myself."

"Alright."

"Don't hold back, Byleth. Whatever she wants from you, show her you're no pushover," Jeralt chuckled. "I'd say good luck but I know you need none. Let me know how it goes."

Byleth nodded.

A wave of noise and colour crashed over her the moment she pushed through the heavy doors to the training grounds. It seemed all at the academy had come to watch the show.

There was a makeshift arena in the middle of the training ground, about six by six meters, chalk marking the boundaries on the stone paving slabs. Students clustered according to their houses, taking one edge of the arena each. Lady Rhea and Seteth took prime positions amongst the other faculty on the last edge.

Jeritza stood still in the arena. Two training swords lay at his feet. Through the slits of his mask, she saw dark blue eyes narrow at her as she walked towards the arena, to raucous cheering.

"Show him what you're made of, Professor!" Caspar shouted over the others, to fervent nods by the Black Eagles around him.

"Professor." Edelgard appeared at her side. A crease in her brow, the princess whispered urgently, "Jeritza is a strong opponent. As our fencing instructor, he is especially skilled using swords."

Byleth paused and stretched her arms, glancing at the princess. "Are you worried about me, Edelgard?" she asked, a slight teasing note in her tone.

The princess stared at her, pink rising on her cheeks. "No! I–I merely wanted to give you some advice," she said, unheeding of the impatient cries thrown her way. "Jeritza is ambidextrous, with few openings—"

"Edelgard! Leave Teach alone! We want to see a fight!" Claude joined his voice to the clamour.

"—but he can be defeated, I have seen it before," Edelgard persisted, lowering her voice as they moved closer to the Black Eagles' side of the crowd. "He does possess weaknesses—"

"Edelgard!" Seteth raised his voice. "Step away from the Professor! I do not want any further delay."

"Advice duly noted, Edelgard," Byleth said, patting her shoulder reassuringly—not noticing the way the princess' blush deepened at her touch—and moved through the Black Eagles, who had parted to allow her onto the arena. Behind her, the students closed the gap eagerly, and she heard Dorothea ask Edelgard, "what was that all about?"

Then, Byleth focused on Jeritza.

The man was still watching her. But seeing that she was finally ready, he stooped to pick up the swords, tossing her one. She grasped it, noting the way he observed her movements very carefully. Anticipation of a real fight thrummed within her body.

Lady Rhea put her hands up, and the crowd fell silent. "We are here to witness a duel between two professors of high combat abilities. Evidently with much excitement." A benevolent smile on her face to her students, then to Byleth and Jeritza, she nodded. "Thank you for your participation. The duel will be won by the first person to score three touches on the other's body, with the training sword or otherwise. Understood?"

They nodded.

"Begin!" Lady Rhea shouted.

Immediately, Jeritza began to circle around Byleth, assessing and probing, sword at the ready.

But Byleth did not move.

Instead, she took the time to focus on the concrete beneath her feet, hot even through the soles of her boots; the cheers of the crowd, a buzzing in her ears; and the feel of the breeze. Most of all, she focused on Jeritza. He moved like a hunting feline—sleek, precise, intent. And his attack, when it finally came, was equally as cat-like—a forceful pounce forward with his teeth bared, and her sword rose to meet his with a loud thud. Swiftly, he pivoted, sword slicing towards her chest. But she moved equally as quickly, bouncing backwards so he missed, and immediately attacked in return with a thrust to his ribs, which he warded off.

The opening exchange lasted only seconds.

As they retreated for the moment, the crowd grew wilder.

Jeritza lunged forward again and everything narrowed into a familiar dance. Sidesteps and whirls, backhands and lunges. But Jeritza was a strong opponent. His blows rippled up her arm and down her back, her muscles tested in a way they hadn't been tested in a while.

He scored one tap against her knee; her sword too slow.

But his momentary victory was quickly chased by her sword on his shoulder and then a quick disarm. Jeritza displayed no fear. He slipped under her guard to seize her wrist and twist, disarming her in return and tapping her on the knee all at once, forcing her to pull back.

And now, only with fists, they faced each other for a brawl.

Confidence slipped into his posture. He scented a kill; he'd noticed her heaving chest, the way her feet dragged.

Two touches to her one. He was one away to win.

There was only the roar of the crowd in her ears, the blood pumping through her veins.

And the caress of worried lilac eyes down her back.

Byleth closed her eyes.

Took a breath.

The Ashen Demon opened her eyes.

For the first time since the start of the duel, she went on the offensive. She leapt forward, unleashing a flurry of strikes so fast and clinical that in seconds, before Jeritza could muster a proper defence, she had already tapped the inside of his thigh (a femoral cut) and the side of his neck (a carotid cut).

His eyes widened in shock, hand flying up to his neck.

The Ashen Demon was a legend whispered amongst mercenaries, bandits, and fighters. All thought she was emotionless. A cold-hearted killer.

But that was not true.

While she did feel little to nothing about killing, what she liked, was being powerful.

The duel was over.

After a brief moment of stunned silence, the crowd swelled with approval and a crash of cheers.

"You…" Jeritza said, in disbelief. "You played me like a fiddle."

"You're good, Jeritza, but you let your guard down," Byleth said, walking over to him easily without any signs of breathlessness or fatigue.

Despite his loss, something like recognition of a true foe sparkled in Jeritza's eyes. "I won't do that again next time," he vowed.

She nodded. And when she turned from him, she noted two things—

One, a kind of rapturous awe lit up Lady Rhea's entire countenance, seemingly more excessive than any of the students' around her.

And two, relief and concern and admiration all mingled in Edelgard's expression, her purple ribbons loose as though she'd been raking her hands anxiously through her hair.

Then a throng of excited students engulfed Byleth and she saw nothing else but the press of bodies.

After the duel, Byleth became an idol at the monastery.

All day long, staff and students went out of their way to talk to her and ask for fighting tips, practice spars, and stories of her mercenary exploits. Lysithea badgered her no less than twenty times to describe the twenty best mages who she'd fought. Her victory spread amongst the Knights too—Alois enthusiastically requested they spar so he could say he tested the prodigious daughter of the Blade Breaker, to Jeralt's immense amusement.

The Black Eagles, in particular, were as proud as peacocks that she was their professor. She overheard Caspar and Ferdinand bragging about what she taught during their lessons, to the envy of the other house students. Bernadetta sat at the front of the class beside Edelgard, more comfortable with being perceived by Byleth. Petra and Dorothea paid full attention to everything she said, sneaking each other only the occasional note, earning a highly judgemental glare from Hubert. Even Linhardt started to stay awake for the majority, rather than half, of her lessons.

For someone not used to being around people all the time, she found all the attention overwhelming and craved the solitude she used to have. So she spent most of her free time in the one place where silence was mandatory—the library. Even though she was teaching on subjects she was adept in—battle strategies, combat skills, and survival techniques—she wanted to expand her knowledge about the history and politics of Fódlan, its three countries, and the Church of Seiros. And the more she learnt, the more she recognised that Edelgard was right about her ignorance, causing her some consternation.

But while she wanted to discuss her newfound knowledge with the princess, Edelgard was the one person since the duel who seemed to find Byleth's presence repelling rather than appealing.

When she sought Edelgard out for some advice on the monastery as she might have before, Edelgard made her apologies, citing urgent business. If they were about to cross paths outside of the classroom, Edelgard would suddenly appear to remember something and become deeply engrossed in conversation with Hubert. One time when she'd approached Edelgard sitting by herself in the dining hall, the princess had flushed furiously upon noticing her, stammered three syllables, then sprinted away at remarkable speed before Byleth could even open her mouth.

Perhaps Edelgard really was just busy. The princess was often buried in correspondence, quill scratching on paper unceasingly at all times of the day, and high-ranking officials from the Adrestinian Empire visited her frequently at the monastery for undoubtedly important business.

But that didn't explain the other more peculiar changes she displayed—

During physical training, when Byleth would touch her on the limbs to correct her posture and form, Edelgard would recoil from her and request she provide verbal guidance instead. And when she did provide verbal guidance in the classroom, sitting across from her or leaning over her shoulder at a measured distance, Edelgard would duck her head, avert her eyes from Byleth, and request she focused on the other students instead.

For some reason, Byleth seemed to make Edelgard uncomfortable.

It shouldn't bother her this much.

Yet it did.

Regardless, as Edelgard widened the distance between them, others appeared to fill the space.

"Why, thank you, Professor," Dorothea exclaimed, reaching for the flowers in Byleth's hand. "How did you know I love flowers?"

In the greenhouse, having just harvested her first packet of seeds, Byleth stared at Dorothea "Oh. I didn't."

Dorothea laughed. "You could at least pretend you knew, you know?"

"Ah. Here you go." Byleth handed her the flowers. "I know you like flowers."

Dorothea laughed again, taking the roses and sniffing them. "Are you always this charming?"

"I have never been called charming."

"I can't imagine why," Dorothea said dryly, but a smile undercut the bite. "In any case, gift-giving of flowers and other items, especially on birthdays, is encouraged in Garreg Mach. The Church places importance on the three countries of Fódlan living in peace. Thus, the nobility all send their children here to build bonds with each other and the Knights, and form relationships that may enhance their status and produce crest-bearing children."

"I see." The thought of what flowers Edelgard favoured—and whether it might warm her up again—flitted through her mind. She shook her head to dislodge it, asking, "Is that why you go on dates frequently?"

Dorothea gasped theatrically, hand flying to her mouth. "Professor, were you spying on me?"

"No. I notice things."

"Look, I know what I'm doing. My acclaim as a diva nor my beauty won't last forever, after all. And…" Dorothea lowered her voice suggestively. "While you are very gorgeous… your beauty is also impermanent. I must look to the future. Find a good partner here at the academy who would take care of me for the rest of my life."

"Is that what you really want?"

"Of course! Who could ask for anything more? Why?" She smiled, taking a dainty step closer; Byleth smelt the sweet perfume that Dorothea favoured. "Would you like to take care of me into my old age?"

"Okay."

Dorothea's mouth fell open in surprise. "Wh—what? You're not being serious, are you? I was just teasing! The thought hadn't crossed my mind—"

Byleth smiled.

"Ah! You are teasing." Dorothea rolled her eyes. "Tsk! Anyway! I better go." She turned around self-consciously, still clutching Byleth's roses. "By the way, it's Mercedes's birthday soon! She loves Lavender flowers." Dorothea sang out as she headed towards the exit. "It's also customary to invite someone to tea on their birthday!"

Then she was gone.

And that was how Byleth found herself having tea with Mercedes on her birthday in the gazebo.

"Thank you for the invitation, Professor," Mercedes said with a bright smile, picking up her teacup to smell the tea. "Southern Fruit Blend! My favourite. And these lavender flowers? My favourite too! I am so happy you know so much about me!"

"To be honest, Dorothea informed me," Byleth admitted, taking a hasty sip of her tea. It was too hot and scalded her tongue.

"Oh dear." Mercedes wriggled her fingers and the burn disappeared, a soothing tingle in its wake.

"Thank you."

"You are most welcome. And of course, you had to come by the information from somewhere," Mercedes said gently, putting her cup down. "I hope you don't mind me saying, Professor, but you are not used to speaking with people, are you?"

Byleth nodded.

"That's alright! I never used to know how to talk to others either." She smiled reassuringly, fingering the ends of her ponytail absent-mindedly as she spoke, "When I grew up, all I had was my mother and younger brother. Our adoptive father was… well, he was not good to us. So I tried to be as quiet as possible and soon I found it hard to talk to other people."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thank you, Professor. But when my mother and I escaped and found refuge in the Church, the nuns and monks all spoke to me so kindly, that slowly I began to find my voice again. Perhaps, here in the academy, you may find your voice too," Mercedes said gently. "But only if you want to! There is no pressure."

"You are very kind." Byleth took another sip. Her chest was unexpectedly warm—the tea?

"If you are happy to, I would love to hear about how you are finding the monastery so far?"

Byleth found that she didn't mind. So she spoke, only a little to begin with, but Mercedes absorbed her words with genuine interest and thoughtful questions, and an hour soon flew by on mundane but comfortable topics. When she said her farewells, Mercedes extracting another promise for tea soon, she was pleasantly surprised to find herself having said more than she thought.

True to Byleth's idolised reputation, the Black Eagles' mission that month at Zanado was completed smoothly.

The bandits were quelled.

Killed.

While most of the students appeared prepared to do what was necessary, some struggled.

Byleth watched Linhardt stumble back from the carnage, staring in horror at his bloody footsteps. To his side, Dorothea stood pale in front of the corpses while Bernadetta retched into her handkerchief. A flicker of sympathy stirred within Byleth. She recalled the words Jeralt used at times like this for their new recruits.

"Gather round," she called, and when the Black Eagles clustered in front of her, said, "I know taking a life is never easy. But we never kill those who do not deserve it."

"But, Professor," Linhardt said. "Do bandits deserve to die?"

"They were bandits who tried to kill Edelgard!" Hubert snapped, making Linhardt flinch. "If we did not kill them, they would kill others. Be sure of it."

Byleth nodded. "As soon-to-be officers of the Empire, you will be expected to make tough decisions in the future. But it does not mean you have to be callous. It is important to feel something about taking a life because that means you cared for the life you took. If you didn't feel something at all, well—" she flashes back to the first time she killed, blood on her face and chest, not a single feeling inside of her "—that seems to be more problematic."

"I see," Dorothea said, nodding thoughtfully. "I questioned why experiencing a real battle would be part of the church's teachings, but now I understand. It is important to take our first lives under the guidance of one such as yourself, Professor, to ensure we comprehend the gravity of the lives we may have to take in the future."

"Indeed," Edelgard agreed. For the first time in a while, she looked Byleth full in the face. "Our teacher is correct." Then to the others. "Taking lives can be a regrettable act. Thus, we must know why and see no other viable alternative, before doing so."

Byleth nodded. "Understood?" she asked.

The students nodded grimly. With their consciences somewhat soothed, they dispersed to collect their weapons and prepare to leave. Byleth looked around the Red Canyon, noting the location of the bodies so she could inform the Knights, and was hit with a sudden sense of familiarity.

I wonder why you remember this place…

Byleth startled.

Sothis snorted. You must be weak of heart. Each time I speak, it scares you so.

You surprised me, she thought. That's all.

I sense your feelings, however. There is a great depth of emotion I have tied to this place. Like joy and sorrow. Pain and love. If I was somehow here before, I wonder what took place…

"Professor?" Edelgard came up beside her, axe strapped to her back. "We are about to head back to the monastery."

Looking at her, Byleth hesitated before replying. She half-expected Edelgard to run away.

"Is… everything alright?" Concern creased Edelgard's brow. "Is there something on my face?" She raised a gloved hand to her cheek.

"No." Byleth smiled. "Good work today, Edelgard."

"Thank you, Professor." Together, they fell in step behind the Black Eagles, following the path back towards the monastery. "Also," Edelgard said. "It was kind of you to reassure the students… I assumed you aloof, but it seems you notice and care about the worries of others more than I thought."

"Oh," Byleth replied, a little surprised to hear that. "I try." And without thinking, Byleth heard herself say, "I also notice that you've been busy. I haven't seen much of you outside of class since the duel."

Edelgard glanced at her, also seemingly caught off guard. Then, her cheeks pinked and she looked away, brushing dust from her sleeve. "I… I have been busy. As Princess of the Adrestinian Empire, I am still involved in the current affairs of the Empire."

"I see," Byleth said, somewhat relieved to hear she didn't actually make Edelgard uncomfortable. "To be honest, I feared you were avoiding me. That I'd offended you unintentionally."

"What?" Edelgard gasped, halting in her tracks. "I wasn't avoiding you! I just… I had some things to think about, that's all!"

Byleth smiled. "Ah, were you thinking about me?" she asked lightly.

"What?" Edelgard blushed bright red. "No! I—I was thinking about… about things! Important things that were definitely not you! If I was thinking about you why would I avoid you? That seems very irrational, and I, Edelgard von Hresvelg, hate being irrational! And actually, why would I even think about you? It's not like you were terribly impressive at the duel or anything." She scoffed loudly. "In conclusion, I was thinking about the…the Empire! Not. You!"

Byleth blinked at the outburst.

Edelgard turned sharply and strode after the Black Eagles. The tips of her ears were still red.

Catching up to her, Byleth said, "I was only teasing." But now she felt bad, given Edelgard's reaction.

"No teasing allowed!" Edelgard replied, steadfastly keeping her eyes on Hubert's and Bernadetta's backs.

"Apologies."

They lapsed into a short silence, which Edelgard eventually broke. "But… I confess to some pleasure at your notice of my absence," she said, quietly, cheeks still red but less so.

Byleth felt a little warm herself. "Well." She cleared her throat. "Seeing as you insulted my knowledge on Fódlan, I had been eager to share with you what I'd since learnt, only to find you unavailable."

"I did not insult you!"

"If I recall correctly, you said I "appear to lack some fundamental knowledge about Fódlan"."

"I was merely expressing a fact."

"Ah, was that another insult?"

"You are ridiculous!" She huffed.

"And another one?" Byleth nearly chuckled at the indignation that made Edelgard shake.

"My teacher! I said no teasing!"

"Is everything alright?" Hubert stopped in his tracks to glare at Byleth. The others also stopped to observe, an inquisitive glint in Dorothea's eye.

"Everything's fine!" Edelgard called out. "I was simply having a civilised discussion with the Professor."

"I see "civilised discussion" is what we're calling "insulting the Professor"," Byleth added in an undertone, unable to help herself. Edelgard was simply too adorable when flustered.

"Let's carry on!" Edelgard waved at the others to resume walking, then whirled on Byleth when they did. "I was not! And if you carry on as such, then perhaps I shall not engage in any further discussion about how you've rectified your neglect in education."

"Alright," Byleth conceded. "I look forward to further insults—oh, sorry, civilised discussions—with you."

And this time, the murderous look on Edelgard's face did make her chuckle.