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The air in Fhirdiad still smelled of ash and charred wood, though, after three days, the imperial forces had finally managed to subdue the last embers of the fire that had raged through the city. Byleth eyed a team digging through wreckage as they levered a blackened shape out of a pile of timber and mortar. There were no cries for assistance; the bodies being pulled from the wreckage now were past saving. But as she watched, the beating thing in her chest thudded against her ribs with sickening force.
"Professor, are you well? You look pale."
Edelgard's voice tugged Byleth's attention away from the grim tableau. She reached out for Byleth's arm as if to steady her, her face full of worry.
Byleth shook her head. "It's nothing. Just…" She tapped her breastbone and Edelgard nodded her understanding. She was the only one who knew, the only one Byleth had told about her heart, the newness of its rhythm. Everyone could see the outer changes of course—her hair and eyes had returned to their original shade after Rhea's defeat—but Edelgard was the only one who knew the extent of the change and its cause: Byleth no longer carried the crest stone Rhea had implanted in her, and consequently she no longer bore the Crest of Flames.
She was human now. Wholly and entirely and only human.
Sylvain was waiting for them by the remains of the eastern tower of Fhirdiad castle, where the worst of the damage was located. While the gatehouse remained intact, part of the curtain wall and corner tower had partially collapsed, their stones piled in heaps where they'd fallen. He nodded as he spotted them. "Your Majesty. Professor."
Today there was no quip on his tongue about pretty girls, no glint in his eyes. He was grim-faced and pale and something washed over Byleth with terrible force. She should have asked him how he was faring, offered some words of encouragement as she had always done. But instead, her innards seemed to tighten and draw in on themselves and all she could think was that she had failed Sylvain, failed to save his homeland. She had promised him a better world, a better future, and now had only this desolation to offer him.
Unable to meet his eyes, Byleth made a thorough study of her boots while Sylvain gave his report on the extent of the damage to the city. And it was because she had her eyes on the ground that she didn't spot the movement atop the damaged castle wall until after a shout rose from the emperor's guards.
Byleth reacted instinctually, already in motion, grabbing Edelgard around the waist and pulling them both against the shelter of the wall even as a bright flash blinded her. A rush of noise—grinding stone and screaming—and Byleth pressed herself to Edelgard as debris pelted them, pain jarring through her left hand. Her breath came in jagged heaves and her heart was like cavalry pounding her ribs but she clung to Edelgard, eyes squeezed shut against the dust, until the spray of stone had ended.
When Byleth opened her eyes, Edelgard was tucked under her chin, her body radiating warmth. The urge to wrap her arms around her and pull her in as close as she could welled up from somewhere in her chest but she quashed it and instead drew back to inspect Edelgard. "Are you hurt?" Her hand, poised above the emperor to shield them both, darted down to brush the dust off her cheek, fingers lingering over her skin.
Edelgard caught Byleth's fingers in hers and squeezed. "I'm fine. But you…" Her eyes, wide and full of concern, darted to the side.
Byleth glanced at her left hand to find it bloodied, two fingers clearly broken, and winced at the sudden throb that seemed to pulse in time with that awful pounding in her chest. She pressed the injured limb against her body and gave a shake of her head. "It's not bad." She turned to survey the scene before Edelgard could protest, hand on her sword hilt in case they were still in danger. But already the imperial guards were running to the emperor and Edelgard had straightened to face them.
In an instant the concern vanished from Edelgard's face, replaced by the steely mask of the Emperor of Adrestia. "What happened?"
One of her guards bowed. "Your Majesty. It seems one of the archbishop's cardinals survived and was waiting for a chance at revenge."
She raised her eyebrows ever so slightly. "I was under the impression the castle had been secured."
The guard bowed again very low. "I apologize, Your Majesty. We must have overlooked some hidden passage or crevice within the castle where the cardinal was able to hide himself."
"Injuries?"
"Some broken bones. I've sent for healers. We'd like to escort you back to camp, Your Majesty, until we can reassemble a full contingent of your personal guard."
"Very well." Edelgard motioned in Byleth's direction. "The professor will require attention as well."
Byleth wanted to protest, to insist that she could go find a healer later and that for now she fully intended to stay with Edelgard, but all at once her knees felt like jelly and she had to lean against the wall for support. Her breath came raggedly, but the throb of her hand seemed dull now and what made her chest tight and her heart stutter, was the one terrible thought that if she had been any slower, the stones that had mangled her hand might well have struck Edelgard instead.
***
It was always a relief to return to Garreg Mach, to see its towers rising on the horizon after a long campaign. The monastery was filled with many of Edelgard's most cherished memories and she felt more at home there sometimes than she did in Enbarr. Yet today, as she headed to her quarters where she had asked the professor to meet her for tea, she steeled herself for the conversation ahead.
The kitchen staff had just finished setting out the tea and tiered snack plates when Edelgard arrived. Byleth was seated in her usual chair, just as she had been so many times before, and the scent of bergamot wafted in the air as it always did, yet the atmosphere felt palpably different, the tightness in Edelgard's body mirrored by a stiffness in Byleth's shoulders and the hard set of her jaw.
Edelgard thanked the staff and closed the door behind them. Byleth poured the tea without speaking, frowning at the cups and saucers as if they had, perhaps, been members of the opposing army. When she reached for a dessert she frowned at those too, her hand moving first towards the honeyed biscuits and then to a fruit tart, before finally snatching up a cinnamon pastry.
Taking careful note of all this, Edelgard drew in a deep breath and spoke in as light a tone as she could manage. "You know, Professor, I did ask you to order your favourite tea."
Byleth shrugged. "You like bergamot."
"Very much," Edelgard said, her lips curling into a tiny smile. "But I had hoped for once to return the favour and allow you to choose something that you enjoy."
Byleth licked her lips, a nervous habit Edelgard had noticed these past few weeks, and finally said, "I… don't have a favourite."
"Not at all?"
There was a pause as Byleth appeared to consider the question seriously but then she gave a shake of her head. "I don't think so. Before—" She broke off and tapped her chest. "Before, tea just tasted like tea or like whatever herbal concoction it happened to be. I never really felt any one was better than any other."
"And now?" Edelgard prodded.
"I don't know. I like bergamot, but I don't know if I like it more or less than anything else." And as if she were trying to prove a point she took a sip of the steaming tea.
"The capital has every tea imaginable," Edelgard said with what she hoped was an encouraging smile. "You'll have plenty of time to decide what you do like when we return to Enbarr." Something flickered across Byleth's features and a chill wave washed through Edelgard at the thought that perhaps that was why the professor was nervous—because she didn't want to accompany the imperial army to Enbarr at all. Perhaps Byleth had decided not to choose her after all and was uncertain of how to tell her. "That is, assuming you do want to continue in your role as my advisor and general."
Byleth's head shot up, eyes fixing Edelgard. "Of course I do. If you still want me, that is."
It took all Edelgard's steely will to keep herself in her chair when she wanted to throw her arms around Byleth in utter relief. "There's nothing I want more." Her voice sounded shaky even to her own ears.
"Are you sure? I…" Byleth sighed and looked down into the murky depth of her cup once again. "I'm so much weaker now. I'm afraid I won't be of much use to you."
Her heart ached to hear those words on Byleth's lips. She knew what it was to be made into a puppet, an object wielded by others and tossed aside when no longer useful. She still felt ire sear her veins when she thought of how Rhea had tried to make Byleth into a hollow shell for the goddess's essence. Almost without realizing it, she found herself reaching across the table to take Byleth's hand. "My teacher… You don't need to be useful. You're not a tool." She squeezed her fingers tightly. "Not to me."
When Byleth met her gaze, her expression was full of anguish. "But I need to—" She gave a toss of her head and something like a growl poured out of her throat. "I need to be better than—than this," she said, thumping a fist against her chest. "I need you to train with me."
"Train with you?"
"I need to learn how to fight without my crest, how to fight against an opponent who's stronger than me. I've never had to do that before. And I'm just not… myself anymore."
Edelgard clung to those callused fingers, wishing she could convey in that touch all that she longed to say to Byleth. She had hoped that when they returned to Garreg Mach she could finally confess her feelings to her dearest friend, tell her how much she needed her, and ask her to remain at her side always. But how could she when Byleth was so distraught, so lost? How could she ask for her heart when that very heart was a stranger to Byleth?
"Of course I'll help you train. But I think perhaps what you need is more than extra sparring lessons."
"Then what?" There was a note of desperation in her voice and she gripped Edelgard's hand as if it she were adrift at sea and that touch was the only thing keeping her afloat.
"After we finish sparring, have tea with me. But I want you to choose the tea—a different tea each time until you figure out which one you prefer."
Byleth's brow furrowed as she appeared to consider the proposition. She looked at Edelgard and for a few beats they remained like that, eyes locked while Edelgard's own heart thrummed in her chest as it so often did when the professor was near. "All right," Byleth said finally, her lips curling into the faintest hint of a smile. "But for today let's stick with bergamot, okay?"
Edelgard smiled. "Very well," she said and raised her cup to her lips.
#
All through the council meeting Edelgard darted glances at Byleth. They'd had just enough time to train early and clean up before the meeting but surely Byleth had to be tired. Over and over she'd had Edelgard raise her blunted practice weapon and strike with full force—enough to send Byleth skidding across the room or to take her clean off her feet. Edelgard had objected to such unequal training, but Byleth had insisted and she suspected that Byleth was trying to gauge her own strength, her new limits. But if she was sore or worn out from the effort she gave no sign of it.
They were deep into a discussion of the logistics of getting food supplies to Fhirdiad when a messenger came with something for Hubert. Edelgard knew Hubert's expressions well enough to recognize that the slight crinkling of his brow meant it was something serious indeed. "A report from one of my agents," he announced. "I expect the official messenger will be along shortly, but the gist of the matter is that there was an attempt by the remains of House Fraldarius to seize control of Fhirdiad. However, our garrison was able to repel the attack and capture several of the nobles involved."
"And Felix?" Ferdinand asked, his expression grave.
Hubert shook his head. "There's no indication that he was involved. He continues to refuse to take leadership of his house but was quite happy to take arms against the lesser lords of his territory."
Edelgard sighed. "We shall have to appoint someone to oversee the region. Perhaps Sylvain would be willing."
Dorothea let out a theatrical wail. "But what's to become of all the women of Fraldarius if Sylvain is let loose among them?"
Hubert made a noncommittal sound as he continued to scan the pages of the report. "It seems that the members of house Fraldarius rallied their forces by telling them that it was the imperial army who set fire to Fhirdiad."
There were muttered comments from around the long council table but it was Byleth's voice that echoed through the chamber. "They what?"
Hubert's eyes flicked up to her. "A number of the captured soldiers insisted on it."
"How could they believe that? It was Catherine herself who set the fires—on Rhea's order no less. The people of Fhirdiad saw it happen." Byleth's hands were clenched on the table, her face flushed.
Edelgard reached out to brush her shoulder and suddenly those furious eyes were locked on hers. "Given their misguided faith in the children of the goddess I'm sure it would be easier for them to believe that we set the fires rather than to accept that their beloved archbishop could betray them so completely."
A sort of snarl ripped from Byleth's throat. "Then they should talk to the people of Fhirdiad, to the people who lost their homes, their families."
Hubert was regarding Byleth with raised eyebrows, as if surprised by such an uncharacteristic outburst . "Whether or not they believe it, the version of events they presented to their soldiers was the most politically expedient for their purposes."
For what remained of the meeting Byleth remained silent, her jaw set, spine ramrod straight. She only softened when Edelgard approached her as the others were filing out and asked what type of tea she'd picked out.
"Albinean berry," Byleth said. And then, with a half-hearted smile, "It's Dorothea's favourite."
#
Byleth took an experimental sip of Albinean tea and got a seared tongue for her trouble. "Still hot," she said, grimacing.
"Tell me, professor, do you know everyone's favourite tea?"
"Not everyone's." For a moment she was tempted to ask Edelgard if she might possibly be jealous, but Edelgard so disliked being teased that Byleth usually tamped down on the impulse.
The modest quarters Edelgard stayed in while they were at Garreg Mach had become as familiar to Byleth as her own room these past several months. Here, free from the outside attention, Edelgard relaxed perceptibly. She smiled, even laughed, she spoke of the things she cared for and the hopes she had for the future. Here, she could shed the weight of Adrestia and be, if only for a little while, simply El.
Byleth's fingers darted to her pocket and found there the cool metal of her mother's ring. She had planned to give it Edelgard when they returned to Garreg Mach but now… If she could hardly keep herself in check in a council meeting among her friends, what good would she be to Edelgard in Enbarr among strangers who would be all too eager to do whatever they thought was "politically expedient"?
"It's going to be like that in the capital, isn't it?" Byleth said with a sigh. "Lies and subterfuge and political maneuvering."
Setting down the cinnamon tart she'd been about to bite into, Edelgard gave Byleth her full attention. "I'm afraid so. The politics of imperial rule are as treacherous as any battle. You must steel yourself in the same way you would before combat."
The thing in her chest seemed to have a mind of its own for it started to thump hard against her breastbone. She knew the ins and out of Garreg Mach, the direction from which attack might come, the places where an assassin might hide. Here she knew who her enemies were and how to protect Edelgard. That would not be the case in Enbarr.
She pressed her hand to her heart for a moment, feeling the rapid thump beneath her palm. It had been hammering during the meeting too. "Is it supposed to do that?" Byleth asked. "To beat so fast anytime anything happens?"
"Yes, my teacher, it's perfectly normal anytime you feel strong emotions."
Byleth shook her head. "When I read things in books about hearts leaping for joy or leaping into your throat I always thought it was an exaggeration. I never understood how… visceral… the actual experience was."
"You'll become accustomed to it, I promise."
Yet Byleth found she couldn't meet Edelgard's eyes. "But…"
"When you were training Caspar back at the academy, when he would get hot under the collar, what did you tell him?"
A tiny smile formed on her lips when she thought of those simpler days. "I told him to stop and take ten deep breaths and then assess the situation."
"That seems like sound advice."
Byleth looked up to find Edelgard peering at her with raised eyebrows and a rather self-satisfied smile. "I suppose so," she murmured but all at once she found her heart was beating fast again, her eyes lingering on the curve of Edelgard's lips.
She sipped her tea to hide the heat rising in her face. Albinean, she decided was not her favourite either.
#
They'd had tea before training today and the cloying taste of chamomile clung to the back of Byleth's throat as she raised her training sword. "Again."
She watched Edelgard's stance and the set of her shoulders change before she lunged, and Byleth raised her sword in time to deflect, though the blow rattled through her arms. All week she'd had Edelgard use only a portion of her strength; Byleth knew she was unlikely to face opponents with Edelgard's inhuman strength, but many would be stronger than Byleth herself and she needed to be prepared.
Edelgard came at her again and Byleth absorbed the force with a grunt. Edelgard's pace was relentless, striking again and again, leaving Byleth on the defensive, until finally the sword was at her throat and she had to yield once more.
Every day, training and tea—ginger, angelica tea, southern fruit blend—and yet she never seemed to make any progress. She remained ineffectual in battle, an aching and bruised mess by the time she went to bed, indecisive about her preference in teas, and equally uncertain of her ability to temper the mad dashing of the traitorous thing in her chest. Each time their immanent return to Enbarr was mentioned her heart raced, her innards grew tight, and a shiver of cold swept over her. So much could go wrong and she remained helpless to prevent it.
Shaking her head, Byleth squared her shoulders and took a ready stance. "Again," she said.
"My teacher—"
"Again!"
Edelgard's lips thinned but she readied herself once more. Her next strike wrenched the sword from Byleth's hands. It clattered to the floor and she was defenseless again.
"Perhaps we should stop for today," Edelgard suggested. Byleth moved to retrieve the practice sword. "Professor, please. I don't wish to injure you accidentally. I'm sure you could use a rest and—"
"No, I need to be better. I need…" Her knuckles were white as she squeezed her sword hilt till her hand ached. Everything was turmoil inside her, as if the fire that had razed Fhirdiad were searing her from the inside out, so that she couldn't even tell what she wished—whether to scream or cry or tear the world to pieces with her frail hands.
Edelgard stepped closer, reaching out to place a hand over the one still gripped vice-like around the sword hilt. "What is it, professor?"
That touch undid her. The torrent of emotion deflated and she felt the words pouring out of her mouth. "I need to protect you. In Fhirdiad I was so distracted by—by this," she said thumping her chest, "by everything being suddenly so—so different—that I didn't see the cardinal." She shook her head, her face heating with something stronger than embarrassment, something that made it hard to meet Edelgard's eyes. Shame, she thought. "We were in enemy territory. I should have been alert to the dangers. But I wasn't and…"
"Professor," Edelgard said very firmly, "while I appreciate the sentiment, I have a great many people whose sole duty is to protect me. And, as you well know, I am entirely capable of taking care of myself."
"I know," Byleth said, and this time she did drop her eyes. "I know, but when I think that I could…" She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly as dry as Sreng sands. "That I could lose you…"
And then Edelgard's arms were around her, the embrace as sudden as that day Byleth had reappeared at Garreg Mach after her long sleep. "I know precisely how that would feel." Edelgard's words were a whisper of hot breath against her neck.
Byleth wanted to ask how she'd borne it those five years, but instead she let the warmth of Edelgard's body and the steady rhythm of her breaths seep into her until her racing heart eased and fell into step with Edelgard's. Somehow, speaking her fears had made them lighter, less torrential. She took a deep, slow inhalation, and another, until she'd reached ten, just as she'd always told Caspar to do, and then she stepped away from Edelgard. "Let's try one more time and then we can pack it in for the day."
"All right. Once more."
Byleth nodded her agreement and they took up their positions. This time Byleth focussed on her footwork. She shifted a little before Edelgard could strike so that that blow was only glancing and Edelgard couldn't batter Byleth's blade with full force. Edelgard employed her strength, but Byleth used her speed. She tried to focus on Edelgard's movements, waiting for that bunching of muscles before a strong blow. When she saw it, she sidestepped, leaving Edelgard overbalanced and stumbling forward. Byleth had her blade at Edelgard's throat before she could recover.
Edelgard's lips parted in a wide smile. "Well done, professor."
Her own smile was so broad she was sure it was a silly-looking grin. Relief and pleasure warred within her. For the first time in weeks she thought she could see a way forward.
#
It was late when Byleth found herself walking the grounds of Garreg Mach, the only place that had ever been a home to her, and a place she would soon have to leave behind. Yet her melancholy lifted when she glimpsed the pale spill of Edelgard's hair, like a silvery veil in the moonlight. A smile graced Edelgard's features when she spotted her.
"You're up late," Byleth said. "Another nightmare?"
Edelgard shook her head. "Not tonight. I simply had a great deal on my mind and needed some air. And you?"
"Much the same." Edelgard looked surprised when Byleth offered her arm, but she took it and they walked the courtyard's grassy lawn together.
For a time they were silent and Byleth found herself snatching glances at Edelgard's face, relaxed now when they were alone, when no one expected her to be the steel will of Adrestia. She looked younger when her hair was down and a sudden urge to run her fingers through those silvery strands caught Byleth off guard and made her cheeks flush. That traitor in her chest was running amok again. "I wanted to thank you," she said a bit breathlessly. "For—everything… of late. I'm sorry I haven't been… myself."
Edelgard stopped in her tracks, tugging Byleth to a stop as well. When Byleth turned to face her, Edelgard's expression was stormy. "Don't apologise, Professor. It's due to Rhea's interference that you're unaccustomed to all this." Edelgard gave a shake of her head, her brow deeply furrowed. "What she did to you was unconscionable. How can you be expected to be yourself when you've never had the chance to know who you are without the crest stone's influence?"
Byleth remembered even now how fury had contorted Rhea's features when she'd refused to kill Edelgard in the Holy Tomb, how Rhea had deemed her another failure. In a single moment when Byleth had made a choice all her own, she'd been disowned by the person who'd made her what she was. But here was Edelgard, who showed no disappointment in her now that she was diminished, no longer a vessel for the goddess's power, but only a frail human being. Here was Edelgard wanting Byleth to learn to know herself, to choose her own path—and her own tea.
"You can use my name." The words tumbled out of Byleth's mouth as if they'd been waiting there in the back of her throat for this very moment. "Please. No one does anymore."
The storm clouds vanished from Edelgard's features, replaced by a small, tentative smile. "Byleth." The word was barely more than a whisper on the night breeze.
A surge of emotion set Byleth's heart thumping with the same fury it did in sparring matches. She reached out to cup Edelgard's face in her hands and press their foreheads together. "Thank you," she whispered, letting her eyes slide closed for a moment, letting the nearness of Edelgard, who was more dear to her than anyone in all the world, wash over her.
Edelgard's hands came to rest over her own, their warmth enveloping her frigid fingers. The cold, too, was new to Byleth. In the past, the Crest of Flames had always heated her skin, just as it did Edelgard's. "Your hands are cold," Edelgard remarked, but Byleth thought she detected a faint quaver in her voice. When Byleth's eyes slid open she saw the bright flush of Edelgard's cheeks and went still as she noticed the nearness of her lips. "We should go to the mess hall. I'm sure we can find something in the cupboards to warm you. "
All at once she remembered then how the men and women of her father's mercenary band would complain of the cold during overnight watches. They too sought comfort in hot drinks, a comfort she'd never understood, with her warm blood and cool heart. But now she, too, could take pleasure in such small, human things.
She drew back from Edelgard, smiling, a bubbly warmth already seeping through her chest. "That's an excellent idea. But no chamomile."
Edelgard, still flushed, tilted her head. "Oh?"
"I've decided I don't care for it."
Edelgard's eyebrows shot up, but then her lips curved into a bright smile. "I'm glad to hear that, Pr—Byleth."
Byleth hooked her arm through Edelgard's again as they walked to the mess hall. She felt in that moment that all she needed to stay warm was the smile on Edelgard's lips.
#
Byleth was already seated when Edelgard arrived, the tea prepared, a steaming cup poured and waiting at Byleth's place. The scent of bergamot wafted through the tiny space as it had so many times before. "Bergamot again. What's the occasion?"
The professor's lips curled into a smile. "Bergamot for you. But I had the kitchen staff prepare something else for me." Byleth waited until Edelgard had taken a seat and poured out her own tea before she went on. "I remembered something last night when you said my hands were cold."
"Is that so?" Edelgard raised her cup of steaming tea to her lips to hide the flush that crept up her cheeks at the mention of that moment on the lawn, Byleth's blue eyes staring into hers, their faces so close that she could feel the heat of every breath. Those callused fingers on her cheeks had set her skin aflame.
"When I was a mercenary," Byleth continued, her eyes focussed on the murky depths of her cup, "we used to set a late-night watch when we were in enemy territory. The others often complained of the cold. They drank a plain, dark tea, well-steeped to keep themselves warm and awake." She looked up and her eyes were bright in a way Edelgard had never seen before in her previously sedate professor. "That's my favourite tea. It's strong and very bitter but it reminds me of where I came from—and of my father." And then, with an apologetic shrug, "I didn't think you'd enjoy it though so I made sure to ask for your tea as well."
"My teacher… Byleth… I'm so very happy for you." And she was. It had pained her to watch Byleth struggling these past weeks, so uncertain of herself and her place in the world they had begun to build. And it had pained her to know how little she could do for her, for the person she treasured most, the person who had been a light to her when all had been looming darkness.
"I hope we can keep having tea like this once we're in Enbarr."
That simple statement warmed Edelgard's heart. "We'll both be very busy, but I'll always make time for you, my teacher."
A little smile dance across Byleth's lips as she sipped her tea and Edelgard noticed her free hand darting into the pocket of her jacket. Before she could ask, Byleth fixed her with those sea-blue eyes. "After we're done here why don't we head up to the goddess tower? I'd like to see it again while we're here, and…" She licked her lips as if nervous. "I have something I'd like to give you."
"That sounds lovely," Edelgard said, because she, too, had something to offer Byleth. She'd longed to tell Byleth what she meant to her, how she needed her and she would not let this opportunity pass.
Together they had reclaimed this world for humanity and, little by little, Byleth was reclaiming her own humanity as well. Byleth's heart was her own now and she would finally find her own path.
Edelgard only hoped it would continue to be a path they walked side by side.
The End