Chapter Text
Part 1 - Stockholm Syndrome
Byleth’s eyes flickered open to greet the damp and dark cell she’d called home for the last few weeks. She sighed as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, and remained perfectly still on the floor. She hoped for the first few days that if she willed this to be a dream it would, and she would awaken in her dorm to the sound of the clocktower bell. It hadn’t worked yet. She was surprised she’d allowed herself to entertain such thoughts, she was usually such a realist. All the possible outcomes were bleak, and the chances of ever returning to her students, between slim and dismal. But... perhaps she’d allow herself to hold onto hope for a few more days.
She pushed up to her feet and stretched her bruised body, her shackles jostling with every movement. The shackles she wore encased each hand to keep her from using magic, and were attached to a long chain strung through a link in the center of the room. She could get to the ends of her enclosure, and would often prop herself up on the cell bars to await whoever was coming to take her to the days torture. She liked to think her posture gave her an air of control over the situation. She wasn’t sure it was working, but every time someone came and had to ask her to back away from the bars it felt like a small victory.
She’d been mostly compliant. It would do her no good to fight right now, when she had no plan, no bearings, no weapons… but she was getting tired of the same questions they would ask that she had no answers to. She heard footsteps approaching hurriedly. Showtime. Though when the door slammed open it wasn’t the usual goons in robes standing before her. It was the Flame Emperor.
This was a surprise, she hadn’t seen him here yet. The Flame Emperor’s body language read uncomfortable, even under all the armor. She wondered why. She also wondered why he just stood there. Shouldn’t he be coming in to gloat over her? Shock her? Prod her? Do something besides stand there? Instead they stared in a stalemate, eye to painted eye.
“You weren’t supposed to get caught.” The Flame Emperor finally spoke.
Byleth was always a little taken aback by the metallic voice that came from the stoic figure, but even more so today by the hint of sadness attached to it. Byleth says nothing, just offers a tilt of the head. They stay in this moment awhile longer before Flame Emperor finally crosses the threshold into the room. He comes right up to the bars and looks at his prisoner in detail. She can feel his eyes through the mask, scanning her. Surveying her damage and sizing her up for what’s to come. She’s got a split lip and a black eye. Her arms were burned the day prior and healed just enough to leave the skin flaky, black and bubbled. There was a draft in this cell, and even a slight graze on her damaged skin would make her wince. Under her attire she could feel bruises forming in her ribs and there were fresh scars where her tights had been. They’d cut away the fabric and laid into her flesh with heated knives that cauterized the wound as they were still causing it. A painfully clever tactic.
Flame Emperor reached out to her, almost unconsciously, and caught himself again a moment later.
“Forgive me, I should not have allowed this to happen.” Byleth gives him nothing. He turns to leave briskly.
“I will remedy this situation.”
And with that he is gone.
Byleth stays where she is standing, unsure of anything else to do. No one else comes in, and she hears the steady chitter chatter of rats pattering in the background. She thinks of the stories Edelgard had told her of her youth, and wonders if she was held somewhere like this. The thought of any of her students being here was devastating. She ponders what they are doing right now… without her. Perhaps Caspar and Ferdinand were sparring at the training grounds. Hubert and Linhardt would almost certainly be in the library. Petra and Bernadetta perhaps shooting at the marksmen targets. Dorothea would be practicing her magic right alongside them. Edelgard… she could be doing many things right now. Weapon maintenance, reading through tactics manuals, conspiring with Hubert, or maybe … looking for her. That thought made her eyes sting. The idea that they would be looking for her, missing her, needing her, and she wasn’t there. She was here.
She hadn’t let herself think of these things yet. Knew it was a mistake. Knew that once she allowed these thoughts she wouldn’t be able to stop the feelings that came with. But there she was, stooping her head as a single tear fell down her cheek. She couldn’t remember ever crying before her father’s death, and now tears were coming to her more often. The idea of… abandoning them like this sent a wave through her body, one she couldn’t ride, and so it spilled forth. A second tear. A third. Now she’d lost count as multiples started piling up. She didn’t fight it. Instead she would stand there, silently, as the emotion left her. Let herself dispense of these feelings, quickly, before they could be used against her. The Flame Emperor was here now, and she could show no weakness.
*******************************************************************************
The Flame Emperor practically ran, descending the steps into the windowless dungeon. She’d been searching for news, any news on what had become of her dear professor, and she finally got it. Now as she hurried to meet the woman she so admired she realized she had no plan of attack for what to do. She hadn’t thought far enough ahead to consider it, she was just desperate to know that Byleth was ok. As she pushed the door open, rather forcefully she’d admit, she saw her. Leaning against the bars of a cell, as casual an expression on her face as if she’d just walked into class for a lecture. But she saw the immediate shift. Byleth furrowed her brow ever so softly, somewhere between surprise and frustrated.
“You weren’t supposed to get caught.”
She doesn’t know what she hopes the older woman would say to that in response, but the silence and indifferent look makes her all the sadder. She notices the scarring and bruising already painted on her face. The posture she holds, favoring a leg over the other, her attire shredded in certain areas, and dried blood clinging to much of it. She moves closer without thinking and rests a hand on the bar, directly in front of her teacher. This is too awful. This is the worst case scenario.
“Forgive me, I should not have allowed this to happen.” As the guilt spills through behind her mask she knows she must find a way. A way to fix what has happened.
“I will remedy this situation.” I promise. I will get you out of here. Is what she wants to say, but she has enough semblance in her actions to remember that in her Flame Emperor disguise it will not be received the way she intends. She leaves quickly, unable to look back at the prisoner that was once her dearest ally. She’s not sure she has the pull she requires here, but she will do everything in her power to right this wrong. As the door shuts behind her she tears off her mask and Edelgard storms onward, eyes focused, purpose in mind. For all the others she’s let go unpunished, this one can not stand.
She finds Solon, who has been tasked with the care of this prisoner, if care is a word that can be used.
“SOLON.” She uses her most demanding voice. He turns uninterested.
“Ahh, Flame Emperor. What brings you here.”
“Why have you taken my professor hostage? You’ve ruined my cover at the academy.” She picks the route she thinks will appeal to him the most.
“I figured without the extra supervision you’d have more time to find a way into the tomb. And with the school on high alert who would question you?”
“You know her connection to Rhea was our best bet at getting in there, and you’ve ruined all the plans we laid out. And for what?”
“For a chance to study the Fell Star. This being has a power unlike any we’ve ever seen. You think I could just waste it?” Only now does Edelgard notice all the mages studying the blood nearby. She shivers to think of all the blood they’ve taken from her dear friend.
“What are your intentions for her?” Edelgard asks calmer now. She needs information.
“If she would tell us the source of her power then we would already be done, but she is being difficult Princess.”
“She does not know.”
“They always know. We just need to find out how deep we need to peel back to find it.” Solon’s words drip with dark excitement and he flashes a pointy-toothed smile. It makes Edelgard’s stomach sink.
“And if you are wrong and she does not yet know you’ve ruined our chances of using her to get close to Rhea.”
“And if I am right, we will not need her for those things, we will have an all new power source on our hands.”
“What does my Uncle have to say about all this?” Edelgard tries another angle.
“He supports my decision, as should you.” Solon sounds agitated. He’s not telling her everything, but he is playing his authority card. Edelgard takes a quick count of the mages in the room. They are wildly outnumbered.
“I don’t, but I know that is irrelevant to you. You should have given me more time to study her in action. We learned the most that way.”
“Who is to say we won’t see her in action?” Solon grizzles over his shoulder. He is dismissing her with his lack of interest. She is not going.
“Why would she possibly agree?”
“Because she will have no choice.”
She knows it will not be an easy out for her professor. As much as she hates the idea, for her to truly help Byleth she’s going to have to watch them hurt her… a lot. Until she has enough of an angle to get her out of here. She hates this realization.
Especially, she thinks, because you know Byleth would sacrifice anything to save you.
That thought lumps itself deep in her chest, and she counts herself lucky that Solon is not currently looking to see the pain etched on her face. She pushes it down before finally addressing him again.
“If you wish to conduct these experiments I will be staying on to see what you find.”
“Oh? I thought it all important that you stay inconspicuous at the academy. Suddenly vanishing will be a noticeable notch against you.”
“As you said, there’s currently less supervision, and since you’ve decidedly ruined our first plan I will need information to conduct a second. This is the only logical outcome.” Solon grunts as his way of accepting her terms but not liking them.
“Very well. Bring her to me. It’s time we get started for the day.”
She dons her mask as she descends back to where Byleth sits in shackles. Her heart thumps faster with each step closer. She doesn’t want this. She doesn’t want this to be happening to her of all people. But if she is truly to be fighting for Fodlan’s future, she must not let one person who got swept into the wrong place be the downfall of all of her planning. Even with her feelings attached. This would be one more demon she’d add to her list on her way to achieving her goals. Then she opens that door and all of her resolve snaps in half upon seeing those cobalt eyes, reddened from tears, looking back at her.