#Sylvain feeling uncomfortable in a room full of guys because he knows something is Off something is Wrong but he cannot pinpoint what

[unxpctedlygreat]

/whispers/ nb sylvain

[glowingbadger]

Hey, strange ask, but that ask that compared Dimitri to a retriever inspired me to request either headcannons or a drabble of Dima magically being turned into a dog but his S/O doesn’t realize it’s him but he still follows them around and is super protective of them and hijinks ensues.

Y'know what, Friend Anon? This is fucking adorable.

This really ended up as more 'fluff' than 'hijinks' lol but I had fun with it, so there you are~

SFW - Gender Neutral Reader

What to make of this situation. Not only are you completely unable to track down Dimitri, but when you go to check his quarters, one of the monastery dogs has gotten into his room and is making an absolute scene. He's a lovely golden color, with blue eyes the likes of which you've never seen on a dog, and the moment you enter the room, he bounds up to you and circles around your feet until you're practically dizzy.

"Woah, hey there! How in the world did you get in here I wonder..." you mutter as you lower a hand to pat his head, "Have you seen Dimitri around, buddy? I can't seem to find him anywhere..."

Having only taken a moment to nudge his head into your touch, he rapidly becomes alert once more and begins an absolute fit of barking. At this rate, he'll disrupt the whole monastery.

"Hey, hey! No need for that, sshhhh, come on, everything's okay-" you try to soothe him, speaking softly as you kneel down to pat his head. He whines softly, but his tail is twitching back and forth just a little, so he must be at least a little comfortable with you. "Listen," you say, standing upright and straightening your clothes, "If you can behave, you can come with me while I look for Dimitri, okay?"

He barks once, and comes to stand directly beside you, almost throwing you off balance. You smile and scratch his ear for a moment, glad to have a companion on your quest.

And it quickly becomes evident that your companion took this quest very seriously indeed. On your way out of the dorms, you see a shock of red hair ahead, and wave down Sylvain to ask for any leads.

"Hey- I haven't been able to find Dimitri all day, have you seen him?"

"Hm? Not recently, sorry to say. Who's your friend?" he says with a smile at the dog beside you, "What a cutie! No comparison to you though, of course."

You slide past that last bit and say,

"Yeah, he was in Dimitri's room when I went to check for him, and he's just kind of... fond of me, I guess?"

"And who could blame him?" Sylvain says, smirking as he leans against the wall beside you, "Say, if you're still looking for Dimitri, why don't we go look for him together in town-"

He doesn't get to finish his suggestion- your canine ally is on him in a second. Up on his hind legs, he jumps against Sylvain, nearly winding him and sending him stumbling back a couple steps. The dog barks and snarls relentlessly, even as you do your best to calm him.

"Sorry, Sylvain! I- I think I should just keep going for now- thanks anyway!"

"Yup- yeah, no problem," he replies, doing his best to regain his easy smile, "Man, your new friend is a protective guy, huh. Take care of Y/N for me, alright?" he tells the dog as you two part.

It's not long before you run into Ingrid on her way out of the dining hall, an admittedly delicious looking meat skewer in hand. The dog trots ahead of you and barks to her- though not aggressively, so you figure she must have made a good impression on him somehow. Once again, you ask about Dimitri, and once again, you have no luck. Ingrid does slide a piece of beef off of the skewer in her hand and hold it out to the dog. He glances back at you. You nod, as if to tell him it's okay, and yet he looks hesitant. With some goading from both you and Ingrid, he very carefully takes the meat from her hand between his front teeth, then chews at it slowly.

"What a strange dog," Ingrid says with a furrowed brow, "I've never seen one so... reticent about food."

"Yeah, he's an odd one," you muse as he finishes his treat, "He's a good boy though, so it's nice having him along."

Maybe all he understood were the words "good boy," but regardless, his tail is now wagging so fast it seems to blur before your eyes.

You bid Ingrid farewell, and continue on your search.

By the time you think to check with Dedue, you've spent an embarrassingly large portion of your day aimlessly wandering and questioning guards and knights. Frankly, he should have been your first guess. Meanwhile, your canine friend has become a comfortable fixture in your day. You find yourself mindlessly chatting with him, and maybe it's just because he recognizes that you're speaking, but he tends to bark back in reply. But when you finally muse aloud that you ought to check in with Dedue, the dog circles you, letting out excited little yelps and barks.

"Okay, okay, I'm going!" you say with a laugh, and head towards the greenhouse side by side with your companion.

And yet, you're not expecting the darkened expression that crosses Dedue's face when you explain that you've lost Dimitri. Sure, you could understand a bit of concern- you're plenty concerned, and the longer this goes on, the more you worry that this could be a serious matter beyond a mere missed connection. But Dedue's voice and bearing are grave as he sets down a watering can and says,

"His highness had offered to help some of the magic students this morning. If anything has befallen him as a result of this..." he trails off, but the malice in his eyes is plain to see. Only the dog whimpering beside you breaks the uncomfortable silence that follows. He pads forward and nudges Dedue's hand with his snout. This small gesture seems to lighten his expression just the slightest bit- but it's something. Dedue sighs and looks to you again,

"I will help you search for him. You continue to look throughout the monastery grounds, and I will check likely classrooms and inquire among the mages. We will cover more ground this way."

You nod, but your canine friend seems agitated. Perhaps it's only Dedue's sullen mood- this does seem like a uniquely empathetic dog, after all. You pat his head gently and say,

"Well, let's try to think of anywhere we might've missed."

You say that, but reflecting on it, it's hard to imagine anywhere you haven't checked and re-checked. You'd done well to bolster your mood thus far, but the more time goes on, the more insidious anxiety starts to take root in your heart. Absently scratching at the dog's furry ears, you let out a sigh, which he seems to respond to by whining softly and nuzzling his face against you.

"I know, I'm sorry, I just... what if something's happened to him?" You say softly, barely more than a whisper.

You're merely wandering at this point, letting your feet aimlessly take you where they will. Eventually, you've found yourself at the training ground, and figure you may as well check here again. Unsurprisingly, Felix is here, among a small handful of other knights and soldiers. Careful to skirt around the edge of the grounds and not get in anyone's way, you approach him, and do your best to greet him cheerfully. Felix huffs and sheathes his sword, wiping sweat from his brow as he scrutinizes your expression.

"You look like a mess." he says, blunt as ever, though you know this is his way of expressing concern.

"Yeah, I- I can't find Dimitri anywhere- I feel like I've looked everywhere twice by now, and no one's seen him since morning, and-" you can't help rambling a bit, a hint of a crack in the back of your throat, "I just couldn't forgive myself if something happened to him- so..."

"I haven't seen him, if that's what you're getting at," Felix says with a hand on his hip. Then, he sighs at your crestfallen expression, "Cut it out, will you? You look ridiculous when you sulk like that. And if the Boar sees you like this, I'll have to watch him sulking too."

You manage an awkward half-smile,

"You're right- thanks, Felix."

You hear your name from across the plaza and turn to see Dedue with Annette in tow. As you turn to meet them, you could swear you hear Felix say something to the dog that trails a few feet behind you. While you're none the wiser, he mutters,

"If you're planning to hang around Y/N all day, you'd better look out for them, got it? They look more like a lost puppy than you do. That stupid Boar had better show up soon."

The dog gives a soft little whine, and gently nuzzles Felix's hand. With an exasperated sigh and a roll of his eyes, Felix in turn scratches at his neck, his expression softening just slightly.

Then, those golden ears perk up at your voice,

"Dimitri?!"

He turns and immediately bounds towards you, jumping up and licking at your face with his tail wagging at full speed. You laugh and ruffle his fuzzy head, then turn back to Annette and say,

"Well, he responds to it, so maybe you're right! But... you're sure the only thing we can do is wait for it to wear off?"

"I'm afraid so..." she replies, coming to stand beside you, "Say, Dimitri- if this is really you, could you please walk in a circle around me and then Dedue, then come back and stand in front of Y/N?"

He follows her request without question. Her instructions are far too complex to follow without extensive training, and with no gestures or encouragement to guide him, it seems almost certain that this dog is in fact your lovely Dimitri. You're eyes burn with the threat of tears, and it only now occurs to you how worried you'd been all day.

"Well, Dimitri, it seems we've had quite a day together," you say fondly, kneeling down to wrap your arms around him, "You make a really cute dog, but I think you'll be cuter when that magic wears off- so come back soon, okay?"

[sabineelectricheart]

A Room Full of Clothes

Summary: Byleth is evicted from her apartment. Dimitri is ready to help her.

Rating: T - Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

Words: 4800

Notes: I wouldn’t call it fluff. God, no. But it’s kinda cute, in a way. I hope you like it.

The sun shone brightly over the edges of the Gronder Field as a new day begins in Remire. The citizens start their gruelling commute to Garreg Mach early, not to be late for their jobs in the city.

“Okay, I’m here!” Byleth wiggles an arm through the sleeve of her jacket before settling into the couch with the rest of her roommates. “I’m in a bit of rush, but I’m here, I’m ready and I’m ready to listen. Now, will you tell us why you’ve called this emergency meeting?”

Annette fidgets on the spot, standing in the centre of the living room. Her doe-like blue eyes flicker between the remaining three residents. Felix, Ingrid and Sylvain uneasily avoid their friend’s gaze. In fact, they avoid looking at anything other than the walls of their apartment.

Byleth furrows her brow, narrowing her eyes in question to their strange behaviour.

“What’s going on?” Byleth begins slowly.

When none of them dares to make eye-contact, she turns to Felix, who sits closest to her on the couch.

“Don’t look at me.” The bluenette huffs, throwing his hands up defensively and with the usual angry edge to his voice. “I am not the one who called this little sham of a meeting, Annette did.”

The man looks pointedly at their roommate standing, urging her to get over whatever it was. Felix was never a patient person.

Byleth frowns, turning her attention back to the redhead who is nervously gnawing at her lower lip. The sinking feeling in her gut tells her nothing good is going to come from this “emergency meeting”, and something tells her, from the way her roommates are refusing to make eye contact, there was nothing last minute about this gathering.

“Byleth, you know you’re my best friend, and a very good friend to all of us!” She says the latter in one rushed breath.

“Why do I get the feeling like you’re all about to breakup with me?” The woman in question mutters, earning herself a snort from Sylvain for the trouble. She, then, tries to catch Ingrid’s and Felix’s eyes, but they were much too busy staring at the carpet.

Annette does not hear her, or does not care to, and continues to trample over her own words.

“We were thinking, with the end of our school year and everything coming up so soon this summer. Oh, this isn’t easy!” She stutters, fingers fumbling together.

The sight makes Byleth uncomfortable and she frowns. Cold dread rushes up her spine. “What’s going on?”

Felix sighs. “Come on, Annette. Just spit it out! It’s just Byleth, for the Goddess’ sake!”

“We were wondering if you’re considering moving in with Dimitri?” The young physicist blurts out.

A heavy silence falls over the five, all sitting uncomfortably next to each other, with the exception of Annette, who had the misfortune of stand before them. Her fists balls up tightly, her eyes quickly scanning Byleth’s usually neutral face in a sad effort to read her thoughts.

The blue-haired schoolteacher breaks the silence with a nervous chuckle, waiting for them to tell her at any moment this is all some joke. When no one says anything after another loaded beat of silence, she whips her head between Sylvain and Annette, before craning her head to read Ingrid and Felix’s sheepish expressions.

“Excuse me, what?” She lets out another uneasy laugh.

Ingrid sighs, finally looking up from the spot on the ground she has been fixating on.

“I think what we are all trying to say, or ask, is … You and Dimitri have been getting pretty serious over the last year, and we’re all very glad for that. We also think that it’s a bit inevitable, taking from how often you stay over at his place, that eventually you’re going to move in with him.”

Heat flushes Byleth’s face and she gapes flabbergasted at the strange scenario unfolding in her living room. Where her roommates have decidedly taken it upon themselves to ask her an intimate question she had not even considered, or discussed, with her own boyfriend.

The young woman shakes her head bemused.

“What are you guys talking about? Dimitri and I have been together a while, yes, but I live here.” She jabs a finger on the sofa’s cushion to emphasise her irritation. “Where is all of this coming from?”

All four others exchange quiet, nervous glances and fall deadly silent.

Byleth’s frown deepens. “Are you guys worried I’m going to stop paying rent or something? Because I’m not, I know I live here and I’ll keep paying my share of the bills. Just because I spend a lot of time by Dimitri doesn’t mean…”

“Would someone just… Tell her, please?” Felix scoffs.

“Why don’t you, emo boy?” Sylvain snaps, and the bluenette shuts up and sulks.

“What are we supposed to think? You’re hardly ever here!” Annette interjects and Byleth’s attention snaps back to her. “In the last three months, you’ve probably been home a grand total of one week and that’s just to do your share of the chores and to get a fresh set clothes.”

“I don’t have any plans to move in with Dimitri anytime soon, and if I had, I’d like to think I’d discuss it with him first and then you guys before leaving.” The girl with the blue hair crosses her arms over her chest. Her brow furrows in anger, wondering why the people she trusts the most are testing her. “I’m trying to wrap my head around this. Are you guys upset, or… I don’t know, that I’m not really home to hang out?”

There’s a hasty chorus of disagreement and a snort from Sylvain.

“No! Of course not. We’re all happy you and Dimitri were able to work things out and be together. None of us miss either of you sulking on the hallways because of heartache, trust me. It’s just…” Annette’s shifty eyes dart around the face of her roommates again before dropping her voice to a near whisper. “Somebody could be living in that room. Garreg Mach is really expensive and it’s hard to find somewhere to live comfortably at a reasonable price.”

“I know that, which is why I pay one-fifth of the rent.” Byleth says a little stung by the comment. “I could make more of an effort to be here, you’re right about that, but I…”

Suddenly it all clicks, and after nearly three years dealing with shy kids trying to make sense of their own emotions, Byleth can practically see the puzzle pieces aligning perfectly together. A surge of hot energy courses through her. Betrayal and anger flare up.

“Oh my star!” Byleth gasps, jaw slacking as the realisation dawns on her. Her friends collectively tense at her tone. “You have someone for the room already, don’t you?!”

“See!” Annette’s eye grow wide. She nervously points an accusing finger at Byleth. “You’re calling it the room, not even my room.”

“That is not the point!” The woman adds flustered. “And you’re not even denying it!”

“Okay, okay.” Sylvain wheels himself between Annette and Byleth. “I think we all need to take a step back and reassess. Byleth deserves a proper explanation and we’ve done a terrible job so far.”

Felix shakes his head, rolling her eyes and Ingrid awkwardly scratches at her eyebrow.  

Falling to him, the redhead gives his friend a pained smile and gently tells her, “Byleth, I think what Annette is trying to say is that we may have jumped the gun a bit and promised your room to someone else.”

She rubs her creased forehead, trying to wrap her head around the mess.

“Why…” Byleth begins slowly, letting out a loud sigh and trying to stifle her anger into a passive voice. “…Would you offer my room to someone before even talking to me? Can’t you guys just tell them, I don’t know, sike?”

Annette and Sylvain share another anxious glance, trying to trade off the responsibility of telling the irate blackbelt in more martial arts they care to know the truth.

“One of our, ahem, friends in common told Annette she was struggling to find a place since the lease on her place was running out and well…” Sylvain scratched the back of his head, what he usually did whenever he felt nervous. “I think, our Annette here saw a colleague in need and… Offered up your room.”

They have hit Byleth in her weak spot, pulling at her heart strings and targeting the softness at the core of her nature. She opens her mouth, trying to come up with a solution before Annette hits her with the devastating, closing blow:

“It’s Dorothea.”

“Sylvain’s girlfriend?” Byleth groans, burying her face in her hands. “Why doesn’t she sleep on his room?!”

“She’s a model, you see.” Said man interjects with a moronic smile. “She owns too many clothes and shoes and make-up. Between her stuff and my stuff, we wouldn’t have any space.”

“Oh, so I’m being evicted, not so Dorothea can move in, but her clothes?!” The woman bawled. “What the fuck?!

Ingrid scoots closer and runs an arm, hopefully reassuring, around her friend’s shoulder. “It’s not like that, Byleth. Dorothea really needs a place to stay, and, well, you really don’t.”

The blue-haired woman glares at the blonde. “Easy for you to say, Ingrid. You’re engaged, why don’t you move in with Glenn?”

“Glenn lives in Fraldarius, Byleth.” The blonde biochemist responded, as if it was obvious.

“And Dimitri lives in the Upper City. Your point?” The other shot back.

She wishes the four of them had collectively shot her. It would hurt less. She stands up abruptly and shoulders her bag once more before heading for the front door.

“I need to go clear my head.” Byleth declared, picking up her keys from the table and walking to the door. “I can’t talk about this right now. I’m going to be late.”

No one moves, except for Annette, who looks like she is about to bolt after the young teacher, but Felix stops her.

“Oh, yeah? Where are you headed tonight?” Sylvain smugly calls out after Byleth, who glares at him before slamming the door.

*_*_*_*_*

When she arrives at Dimitri’s apartment, thirteen hours later, letting herself in with her own set of keys, the rich smell of oregano and sharp cheddar envelopes her seductively. Dedue must have stopped by.

The blond man can tell by the way Byleth storms in without so much of a greeting and the hasty way she unpacks the wine from her carrier bag that she is in a bad mood. She does not even bother petting or cooing at Rufus, aptly named after her boyfriend’s hated uncle, when it desperately whines at her heels.

Standing on the kitchen door after setting the dinner plates, Dimitri quirks an eyebrow at her. “Delays on the cable car again?”

His girlfriend remains eerily silent, opening and closing a few drawers and cabinet doors. Angry at her comfort and ease at which she can move around his apartment, finding exactly what she was looking for, where she was looking for it.

Dimitri continues to observe her. Eyes scanning, analysing, as she sets down two wine glasses with a clink. Impatiently, the resident uncorks the wine bottle and with a loud, long glug she pours the cheap red wine.

After handing Dimitri his glass, she gingerly-yet-decidedly taps hers with his and takes one long gulp. Byleth finally meets his eyes and pulls her drinks away, exhaling noisily.

“I’m getting kicked out of my apartment.” She declares, monotone. “I’m getting kicked out because of clothes.”

Dimitri freezes, wine glass suspended at his mouth. Out of all the reasons why she stomped into the house, this was not one of the scenarios he had prepared for. She downs the rest of her wine before pouring herself another generous serving.

“The tribe has spoken. I’ve been voted off the island. Big Brother has evicted me. I am the weakest link. I didn’t get a rose. Sashay away. I’m running out of TV catch phrases here, Dimitri.”

Byleth moves to the other side of the room and towards the couch, Rufus following closely behind her. When she plops down unceremoniously, she finally gives in and scratches the dark-brown Labrador behind its ear.

Dimitri throws a glance over his shoulder, ensuring the food his housekeeper brough over in the afternoon was covered before following the exasperated woman.

His eyebrows tightly knit together. “What do you mean you’re being kicked out?”

Byleth fills him in on why she is so frustrated, explaining the unwitting part that Dorothea played on the whole mess and recapping the details of the stupid living room meeting but overtly sidesteps the reasoning her roommates used to indirectly oust her from their home.

“Why do I get the feeling that there’s more to this than you’re letting on?” Dimitri says coolly, seeing through her as if she was made of glass.

He takes another drink of the terrible wine she has thoughtlessly chosen and fixes her with a serious stare. Byleth averts her blue eyes back down to her lap, heat prickling at her cheeks and ears. At the thought of presenting her boyfriend with the same words Annette had used calls a wave of embarrassment to wash over her.

She lets out a loud breath, the dark strands of her fringe blowing up briefly. She turns her head and meets his concerned gaze. “They did it because they’re expecting me to move in with you.”

The stillness that follows unnerves the older woman. Byleth cannot read Dimitri’s expression, and a rush of emotions surge through her. Mortified, she busies herself by petting Rufus’ eager head.

She is about to open her mouth again, on the verge of taking it all back, but then he speaks. “I wasn’t sure when to bring it up.”

“I’m sorry, what?” The woman balks.

Dimitri’s words take her by surprise, blowing her over in the complete opposite direction she anticipates. It is his turn to let out an exasperated sigh and takes a long drink as Byleth watches him nervously, gripping onto a spare throw pillow.

“Bring what up?” She asks, softly, trying to calm him down.

“I can see why they would think that.” He averts his gaze, toying with the stem of the wine glass. “You… Have been spending a lot of time here.”

“I have not!” She interrupts, but the man pays her no mind.

“I can see where they’re coming from. Most of your belongings are here. Your clothes, your class logs, your books, your plants, even your dog!” Dimitri lets out a chuckle.

Byleth stiffens. “They’re cacti and I can take them back to my apartment. I can clear out my drawer and take my paperwork, that’s not an issue, and I just keep Rufus here because Felix is allergic. I’m sorry if I’ve made myself too comfortable, but I…”

His large, comforting hand cuts her off mid-sentence, finding a spot on her lap.

“I don’t want to give you just a drawer.” He interjects.

The words die in her throat, mouth opening and closing a few times before she tilts her head quizzically. “What are you saying?”

Dimitri places his near-empty glass of wine on the coffee table, littered with her medical journal printouts.

“Well, you’ll be 29 soon…”

“And you’re 27, spring chicken.” Byleth smacks his arm with the pillow she holds.

Dimitri goes quiet, shooting her a deadpanned and exhausted look.

“I wasn’t meaning it as an insult, if you would just listen.” He mutters, clearly miffed at the jab at their age difference. “What I was trying to say, before you so rudely interrupted me, Byleth, is that you’re almost finally graduating college. I know you don’t like staying put for too long and you might want to move out of Garreg Mach altogether now, but if you choose to stay here…”

A pause weighs heavily on the living room environment. The man breathes out before continuing, feeling extremely bashful for broaching the subject.

“Well… Haven’t you… Haven’t you ever given it any thought on whether you’d like to live here with me?” His cheeks prickle pink at the words.

She feels like she is wading through a daydream, stomach somersaulting at the soft look he is giving her.

“Of course, it has crossed my mind. You know I like the school where I teach and I love my students. I don’t have anywhere else to go.” She plays with the frayed-ends of the pillow’s cover. “We’ve been together for a little over a year, everything’s been great and I love you—oh, don’t give me that look, it’s not like it’s a secret.”

A smug, coy smirk tugs at corners of his mouth and Byleth gives him another light whack with the pillow.

Another chorus of quiet laughter erupts from Dimitri, chest bouncing as he shields himself from the woman’s attack. “Okay, so would you care to elaborate what’s holding you back from moving in with me?”

Byleth freezes as his words, out in the open between them for the first time. Somewhere deep inside she resents her closest friends for forcing her hand to have this conversation. There is also a smaller hidden part of her that is so very grateful for them.

“It’s not that easy…” She mutters, anxious hands lavishing Rufus with attention.

Dimitri frowns. “Is it because you don’t want to move in with me?”

“No!” Byleth hurriedly responds, snapping her attention back to the young financier. “It’s not that.”

“Okay, humour me.” Dimitri studies her, silently intrigued by the challenge he has just posed. “Why not?”

“Where to begin? Oh, right, how about the fact that I can’t pay my share of the rent in the Upper City?” Byleth grumbles.

Despite her mother coming from wealth, Byleth’s life was always fraught with modest means. She had to delay going to college to raise some funds, and even then, she worked hard throughout her four years of education to get herself through it. It might be prideful of her, but she would not start relying on her moneybags boyfriend to pay all her bills when she finally was able to feel the coveted piece of paper in her hands.

Dimitri tenses. “Uh… Byleth, I own the townhouse. I thought you knew that.”

His attention uncomfortably shifts when Byleth’s jaw slacks.

“No, I did not know that, Dimitri,” she hisses.

He clears his throat. “Well, rent wouldn’t be an issue because I own the apartment. That is, in another three years, when I’m finished paying off the mortgage.”

Nervously, Byleth runs a hand through her hair. “Okay…” she starts slowly, trying to process the new information. “And how much is your mortgage—hey,” she scolds him when he opens his mouth to protest, eyes narrowing. “If you want to live together, I need to know these things, especially if I’m going to have to pull my weight in living costs.”

Dimitri’s frown deepens and he crosses his arms defensively over his chest. “I wouldn’t ask you to pay the mortgage, Byleth.”

The woman scoffs. “Then am I meant to just freeload and sit around your apartment, looking pretty, not contributing to the water, gas, electric bills?”

“You can contribute to the bills, and looking pretty wouldn’t hurt either, especially in that number you wore on my birthday, but I won’t have you paying towards the mortgage, it’s preposterous.” Dimitri reiterates, his light blond eyebrows knit together.

“Well, then I’m not moving in.” She pouts, arms also coming to cross over her chest.

He challenges her silence for a minute, then two, and after a year of being involved with the strong-headed teacher, he reconsiders.

With a defeated sigh, Dimitri reaches for Byleth’s forgotten notepad and pen on the coffee table. He scribbles quickly before loudly ripping the page out. He scrutinises her with a glare as he folds the page in halves, quarters, eights before reluctantly handing it over to her.

When Byleth smooths out the creases of the paper, she coughs loudly, awkwardly, at the figure staring back at her.

“Those are a lot of zeros.” She chokes out, eyes nearly bulging out of her head. “I can’t afford that. You know I can’t afford that. I teach kindergarten, for goodness sakes. That’s my dad’s yearly income. Double. By just sitting here, I’m practically depreciating the value of your home.”

The blond shakes his head. “I’m not asking you to pay for anything.”

“If we’re going to have a serious conversation about me moving in with you, you need to understand I do not want to live here rent-free.” Her face wrinkles in distaste for the idea.

“Then pay me what you’re paying in rent now at your current place.” Dimitri says defeated.

“No,” Byleth shakes her head decidedly and the man lets out another loud, exasperated breath. “No way. I didn’t take any handouts from my grandmother when she offered them, I won’t be taking them from my boyfriend, thank you. I am very much aware of our financial discrepancy, Dimitri.”

She crumples up the piece of paper and buries her face into the pillow. Money and social class have always been a sore spot between her and her friends. Felix and Sylvain were shamelessly rich, they were only slumming in Remire. Annette was definitively upper middle class, and Ingrid, while falling in a rough spot financially, was definitively marrying up next Spring.

That is not all. While they were all younger than her, they all had finished college and moved on to high-paying jobs, while she was stuck going to school every night because she had to work barely-over minimum wage. It was humiliating at times.

Now, her boyfriend wants her to move into his townhouse and become some sort of post-modern Stepford wife and it all seems so meaningless to her. She struggled to get herself where she is, all the way from when she was a little child and she had to say goodbye to whatever friend she made because her father had to move them to where there were work to now. If she caves in to Dimitri, what was even the point?

In the end, she knows that money is freedom, and she does not want to lose hers.

“This isn’t what I had planned. I was supposed to save up enough money to rent out my own little apartment by the end of next year. A grungy little place just for me, where you can finally come over and be forced to take cold showers in the shitty water pressure. A place in a neighbourhood where you’d tell me to call you every time I get home to make sure I got in okay. Not this!” She looks up to gesticulate wildly at his grossly luxurious living room.

“I’d ask you to call me when you got home regardless of where you choose to live.” He adds softly, hand on her thigh drawing comforting shapes.

“I don’t know what to do.” Byleth adds quietly, anxious hands once again petting an alert Rufus. “Our friends have accidentally kicked me out because they’re just… Well-meaning dickheads. And I know this is the next step for us, I just wish we had a say in it. Now, I have no choice but to accelerate my masterplan of winning the Imperial Lottery to afford living here. Twice.”

An uncharacteristically loud laugh erupts from Dimitri.

“You’re laughing, but I mean it. Even when I get my degree, I’ll have to work four jobs just to pay that stupid mortgage of yours.” Byleth adds seriously, slightly peeved at her boyfriend’s reaction.

“I know.” He replies coolly, almost smiling. “And I live to see the day when that happens, beloved. I just wish you’d hurry up already so I can finally retire and be a kept man.”

“Ha!” She giggles madly at the imagery it evokes, shoving him playfully and causing a wild grin to break out on his face. “The great Dimitri Blaiddyd, the Boar Prince of mergers and acquisitions, retired. What would you even spend your time doing? Going to the matinee and evening opera?”

“Which brings up another logistical point.” He begins thoughtfully. “If you move in, wherever will you run away to when you don’t want to go to the opera with me? You won’t have ‘last minute plans’ with your roommates or ‘pressing chores’ you have to complete at your apartment.”

She flushes. Clearly she is not as sly as she thinks she is.

Byleth changes the topic hastily. “Shouldn’t you be at least a little bit more… I don’t know… Opposed to us living together?”

Dimitri quietly considers her question as a hand comes up to rub the scruff on his jaw. Byleth immediately scolds herself for stupidly bringing on her own demise. Why would she question her boyfriend, with a notorious history of flighty behaviour, if he really wants to do this?

At this rate, she will be living in a cardboard under the Airmid River bridge. She wonders if her Uncle Seteth would let her sleep in Flayn’s room, now she is off to college in Fhirdiad.

“We’ve practically been living together for the last three months.” He says with a shrug, surprising Byleth. “I might’ve been disinclined about the notion a year ago, but… it’s as you said: everything’s been great and I love you.”

It is her turn to grin ear-to-ear at the words, she enjoys hearing the ease at which he uses them.

“It’s something that’s been on my mind lately, at an alarming frequency, if I may add.” He continues, clearing his throat and the hand on her thigh squeezes lightly. “I just never knew when it would be the right time to… Bring it up. I meant what I said earlier, I want to give you more than just a drawer. I want your cacti, your muddy shoes, your impressive collection of military history books. Those overpriced scented candles, your terrible, terrible, choice in wine, the way you somehow always manage to slam the door on your way out, how excited your demon dog gets when it knows it’s you unlocking the door. I want this to be your home too, Byleth. I want you to have your home with me.”

She swallows thickly. It might be the two heaped-glasses of terrible wine finally kicking in or the unguarded expression Dimitri wears so beautifully on his tired face, but the emotions are bubbling to the surface. They start as a prickle at the corners of her eyes and a stinging sensation in her nose.

A tear or two slip out, and before she can stop it, a goofy grin splits across her warm face. The hand on Byleth’s lap finally leaves its comfortable, warm spot. His thumb swipes at the rogue tears and Dimitri offers her a shy smile.

“Okay.” She says hoarsely, nodding slowly.

“Okay.” He echoes, blue eyes searching her face and the smile on his brightens by the second.

The hand resting on her face brings her towards him and their lips meet. His mouth slanting over hers in a new kiss, one they have never shared before. One that has always been waiting for them. It is painfully soft, reassuring, and feels like home. It feels like the kiss she has been searching for her whole life, and it has been waiting for her all along, right in the middle of this living room, on a Friday night, with the promise of a future waiting for them.

Maybe she owes her roommates an apology, and maybe a ‘Thank You’ card while she is at it.

The timer rings out loudly and Rufus’ barking follows. The alluring waft of potato gratin fills the house, their house, more prominent than before.

When they pull apart, her watery eyes find his, and they share a laugh at the silly looks on their faces.

“On one condition, though.” Byleth whispers, and they are still so close she can feel his breath ghosting across her lower lip. Dimitri quirks an eyebrow, somehow anticipating this request will be one her of lovely idiosyncrasies. “I still get to run away when you ask me to join you at the opera.”

Dimitri does not answer. Growling at Byleth’s vexing behaviour, he pounces on her and she fills the apartment with loud, raucous giggles while Dimitri lavishes the most sensitive part of her neck with ticklish kisses, beard relentlessly adding to the sensation.

They spend the remainder of the evening hashing out logistical details over wine and food. They fall into a comfortable routine, one they have never before noticed had always been there.

*_*_*_*_*

Fire Emblem Masterlist

Three Houses Masterlist

[bienaimee]

SYLVAIN JOSÉ GAUTIER’S        VERY WEIRD NO-GOOD TERRIBLE PLOTTING CALL

TL;DR -- i am looking to get sylvain some exes. i am looking for relationships that ended, went bad, or never even started. i am looking for plotting that will never result in endgame shipping, ever, but could provide a lot of interesting and fun relationship types otherwise. these can be fun, these can be angsty, these can be hateful or friendly, but the most important thing is that anyone who enters into this knows exactly what they are getting, and will not be hurt ooc by what sylvain does ic.

more info below the cut on specifics. if you this interests you, like this post and i will come along to your IMs and discuss if it’s a possibility! sorry it’s so long, i promise it’s for good reason.

OVERALL GUIDELINES FOR ELIGIBILITY:

gender requirement: none. sylvain is bisexual, usually prefers women. trans/nb-friendly!

age requirement: 20-30 in actual or apparent age. there’s some wiggle room on the upper end. ‘i’m actually immortal / way older than i look’ is fine, unless your apparent age is that of a teen / child. if your character has no age listed and appears to me as too young for sylvain’s taste, i diagnose you as baby.

ooc requirement: mun must be 18+. i will not be writing any sexual scenes etc. for this, but we can definitely discuss some details ooc if it’s relevant to plotting!

seriously: please be excited for the chance at negative or neutral-at-best relationships! i really really don’t want to hurt someone ooc by following through with plotting! sylvain can be extremely charming and convincing, that’s why he’s such a successful piece of shit! in return, you can treat sylvain however you want, so long as, again, it’s good vibes between the muns!

as an umbrella rule, full-blown ‘dating two people at once in secret’ type cheating will not be involved in these plotlines ( though heavy flirting outside the relationship most definitely will ). sylvain has gotten a lot better about that particular bad habit by his canon point, and there are dozens of other reasons to break up with him / for him to break up. trust me, he’s very good at breaking up. if your character would have a different take on any of the plotlines than what i wrote out, i’m all ears!! i love interesting character dynamics, so long as, again, we know that these are not endgame shipping.

content warning: obviously mentions of bad relationship practices will be involved in the plotlines. sylvain is not abusive or dangerous or a creep, but he is emotionally destructive. please take care of yourself! don’t participate if these things will make you uncomfortable!!

SYLVAIN:

cis male, 25yo, bi, like 6′ 2″ and fit in a ‘glamour muscles but can also swing an axe real fuckin good’ way

has a ton of experience in everything, he’s probably had more girlfriends than you’ve had people you know the name of.

he used to date entirely out of spiteful hatred for people using him for his status. now, he dates to self-destruct! he will be self-destructing!

highly empathetic and charming, will make you feel like the world revolves around you right until he doesn’t

on an unrelated note, he will drop you and everything else in an instant if he gets a text from his ki-- some dude named alex bc friends > flings

ACTUAL PLOTLINES OPEN:

WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE’RE DATING: he gave the impression the two of you were together, but when confronted about it regarding his behavior with others, he got defensive-- he just wanted something casual, okay?? now you’re ‘broken up’ but he maintains with a somewhat vicious attitude that you were never dating to begin with.

DON’T WORRY, I KNOW YOUR TYPE: you two were dating for a couple weeks, and really seemed to be enjoying yourselves, but after your first fight he broke it off immediately. petty enough on its own, but he then claimed you were just after [whatever] from him and offered to find you another guy who would suit you better. people who genuinely are the type to use others fully welcome too, he’s not always wrong about this shit.

CASUAL IS JUST BETTER: currently friends with benefits! you want something casual, he wants something casual, and it’s actually working out. if you catch feelings that’s your own problem, though, because he has made it abundantly clear he doesn’t care. he’s great to be around, the casual affection is infectious, but stick with casual.

SOMETIMES TRUE LOVE STRIKES TWICE: you were his, hook line and sinker, and you were all set to go home with him when you turned around and heard him use the same damn line on someone else. consider a bullet dodged-- unless you just went along with it and held a grudge anyway.

A TASTE OF HIS OWN MEDICINE: whether it was intentional or accidental, you pulled a sylvain. he thought it was going well, and you broke up with him. whether it was for petty or real reasons.. he’s supposed to be the one who breaks up with people first. forgive him some moping.

IF WE’RE BOTH LYING IT’S COOL, RIGHT?: fake dating trope fake dating trope fake dating trope!!! no matter how you feel about him normally, sylvain is damn useful for keeping [someone] off your back, and he can definitely play the part without letting emotions get involved!

[bouwrites]

Blue Laguz

I know I haven’t written anything in approximately forever and that this isn’t at all what I said I was working on but... I wanted to do this.

So, uh, here’s a proof of concept oneshot of the Three Houses lords and Rhea meeting Ranulf and getting their minds blown by the concept of laguz.

The title means nothing except that Ao3 won’t let me post fics without one and I thought the idea of the giant blue cat being in the same room as the Blue Lions house is frankly hilarious.

Anyway, Ao3 link here, story under readmore.

Claude’s first thought when he’s rescued from a bandit’s axe is, “Sweet merciful Goddess, fuck me!”

He then takes what little composure he has left, ties it up with a neat little bow, and chucks it cleanly out the window, even as he mentally pats himself on the back for finally cursing to the Goddess like a proper Fódlani. And in the right language and everything! Expletives are so hard to change.

Edelgard chastises him for running away but what is he supposed to do? Sit and watch the bandit get gored by a massive blue lion? Wait for the beast to finish off that guy? Pray that its intervention on his behalf means it’s on his side and not just attacking indiscriminately?

Yeah, no. Claude hightails it out of there like he’s got Seiros herself on his heels and does not look back. Hopefully the bandit will be enough of a meal for… whatever that thing is, and it won’t give chase.

Bandits are one thing. He can handle bandits. But when bandits get the jump on him and then a giant blue lion jumps in out of nowhere, Claude’s capacity for bullshit just about fills up and he has little choice left but to make a strategic retreat.

He makes a mental note to brush up on fighting beasts. Assassins and bandits and soldiers are all child’s play, but Claude is suddenly very aware how woefully underprepared he is to fight things that move on four legs. Which, it’s not like it comes up often, but if it comes up even once and he isn’t prepared, that could be the end of Claude von Riegan – hence, run away from the giant cat.

When Claude slows down and there’s another, more welcome, intervention, Claude finally has a moment to gather his thoughts. Remire is a nice little place. Quiet. Peaceful. Definitely not the kind of place where he’d think he’d end up wanting little else but to curl up in the dirt and work through an existential crisis, and yet…

Dimitri and Edelgard are both fawning over the mercenary – the Ashen Demon – but Claude’s brain, the one he’s oh so proud of, is still trying to catch up with the other elephant in the room. …Cat in the street. Human? He’s (Claude thinks it’s a he? He hasn’t introduced himself yet and Claude still isn’t sure what he is, so it’s hard to say.) definitely more human than the massive blue cat that gored the bandit earlier in the forest, and yet Claude is quite certain he’s the same entity. He wouldn’t believe it, frankly, if he didn’t see the guy shapeshift right in front of him.

Oh, and also the little cat ears perched atop the man’s head, and the lazily swishing tail on his backside, and the fact that his hair and fur matches the color of the cat in the forest perfectly, and the cheeky smirk on the damn cat’s face as it watches Claude attempt to politely figure out what in the world is happening.

Being completely and utterly unable to think of a single thing to say to him that isn’t potentially extremely offensive, Edelgard and Dimitri both focus on the Ashen Demon – Byleth – but Claude spies them both casting furtive glances the cat’s way, too.

Shit. Looks like the guy isn’t interested in talking first, so it’s up to Claude to risk looking like either an absolute ass or an absolute idiot. (That damn knowing smirk makes Claude think he’s going to come out of this looking like both. Luckily, the latter helps his façade with the other two leaders, and the first is… well considering the looks on their faces, he’ll be forgiven at least by his fellow house leaders. Plus, he’ll – hopefully – have some answers.)

So, Claude decides to introduce himself, politely biting down the question, “What the fuck are you?” to ask something altogether safer.

The man – cat – man? Goddess. He introduces himself as Ranulf, making absolutely no mention of what the fuck he is to elaborate on the who. His tail does swing playfully, though, drawing the eye, which Claude is positive he’s doing purely to tease them all.

“Forgive us,” Dimitri says carefully, “but we have never seen… someone like you before.”

Ranulf just tilts his head, flicks his ears, and says, “You’ve never seen a cat before?”

Asshole. Claude thinks, valiantly failing to fight the overwhelming urge to laugh.

As Claude wheezes, Dimitri collects himself and says, as politely as ever, “Er… none quite like you, I’m afraid.” Which really doesn’t help stop Claude from collapsing from lack of breath.

Ranulf nods sagely. “You’re kind of weird, too, Your Highness.”

Claude thinks he likes Ranulf, and not just because, in hindsight, Ranulf saved his hide from a bandit. Whatever he is, he knows exactly what he’s doing, and as much as Claude wants all the answers about this mysterious shape-changing cat, watching Dimitri and Edelgard squirm over politeness and not knowing how to properly address him is hilarious. Full marks to Ranulf for milking it.

Maybe Ranulf will appreciate some milk, once they get back to the monastery. Or maybe that’s offensive. Hard to say, but Claude is starting to think Ranulf will appreciate the joke if nothing else.

Finally, Edelgard, who looks supremely uncomfortable (like, Claude is frankly astonished at that expression – he really thought she would handle herself better with an unknown like this) asks, “Please pardon me for asking, but… are you… human?”

Ranulf snickers, and apparently Edelgard is either bold or uncomfortable enough for him, so he finally relents and answers, “Nah, I’m laguz. We’re a different thing.”

Edelgard looks like she goes through all seven stages of grief in a moment, and then oscillates between wary and furious, though it’s naturally all covered up by her princess coolness. So, that’s interesting. Claude will have to bug her about that later.

After all, there are so many things to focus on at the moment that even Claude risks losing track of them all. The Ashen Demon, her father – Jeralt! The blade breaker! Captain of the Knights of Seiros! – Edelgard’s strange expressions even now looking at Ranulf, just… Ranulf in general, the bandit attack in the first place, Ranulf and the mercenaries’ intervention in that attack, their coward supervising professor who Claude assumes isn’t coming back anytime soon and will most likely need replacing.

Ranulf is by far the most intriguing, though. A complete unknown – much like Byleth (and distracted as he is, he has not forgotten about her) – but oh so outsider. And here Claude thought his skin would set him apart.

He’s going to have to watch out for this Ranulf character, that’s for sure.

Dimitri would like to say that he takes Ranulf’s arrival with the grace and dignity his station as a prince implies, but that would be a bold-faced lie.

He should probably think about all the implications of Ranulf’s existence. Why he’s here, where he’s from, what a “laguz” is. And yet, in a flash of inspiration that Dimitri can only blame Sylvain, or perhaps Claude, for, the only thing that occupies Dimitri’s mind with regards to Ranulf as they march back to the monastery is, “Goddess, he’s a literal blue lion.”

Which, frankly, is neither graceful nor dignified, he thinks.

Coloring aside, Ranulf reminds him rather much of Claude in personality, with those lazy jokes and purposeful needling and, of course, the withholding of information they’re obviously fishing for, for what seems to be no purpose at all but to watch them stumble over their own etiquette training.

Yes, he’s rather exactly like Claude. But Dimitri is still stuck on the fact that Ranulf is an actual blue lion (or something close) that the only capacity he even registers these similarities in is a vague offense to the idea of Claude being a lion. And a somewhat less vague feeling of thankfulness that Claude is, in fact, not one of his lions.

Byleth is so much easier to handle, so he leaves Claude to badger Ranulf, for the most part, and makes conversation with her. He does fear she is either too shy or too polite to speak up any more than she does, and that he’s just blabbering on, but she’s attentive and doesn’t show any signs of discomfort (though as she doesn’t show many signs of anything it’s not that reassuring) so he tries his best to be friendly with her.

And to keep an ear open and tuned into Claude’s conversation. He is still a prince, and even if no one in Fódlan has ever heard of a laguz before, he will not be the one to say something stupidly offensive and make himself into a fool. (He learns some interesting terminology, including some words he should never repeat, and the laguz’ word for humans – beorc.)

Byleth, for all that she looks interested in anything, seems to be paying their conversation some attention as well, so it’s not all that hard to do the same even as he chats with her.

Well, until Edelgard swoops in to steal her away, at least. At that point Byleth is somewhat monopolized. Dimitri knows she’s trying to recruit Byleth, but he also knows that Byleth’s answer to where her loyalties lie is her father, and that her father is (or was) a church soldier, and before that, if the family records are to be believed, Faerghan.

If Edelgard really wants Byleth on her side, perhaps she should focus a bit more on Jeralt. Dimitri may not be so politically minded as either of his peers, but that is the thought that occurs to him nonetheless, and so he strikes up a conversation with the grizzled mercenary.

By the time they reach the monastery, Dimitri actually has a few new lance techniques to try out. Time well spent.

It’s not until Felix catches sight of Ranulf and mutters something about “another” beast in man’s clothing (which, wonder of wonders, Sylvain chides him for, and gets him to grudgingly admit to judging prematurely) that it occurs to Dimitri that yes, Ranulf is a cat. A beast. And from the glimpse of him on the battlefield that Dimitri had, a dangerous one.

Dimitri has no illusions that clever Ranulf is like him. Beast or no, there is no indication of the madness that touches Dimitri’s mind in the thick of battle. He almost dismisses the thought outright until Ranulf pauses for a moment at the gate of the monastery and frowns.

“Nothing,” Ranulf says, waving off Claude’s questioning, “this place is just unexpectedly chaotic for a church.”

And what in the world does that mean? The monastery seems to Dimitri to be one of the most peaceful places in Fódlan.

Claude echoes Dimitri’s thoughts, and Ranulf just chuckles. “Not like that. Laguz like me are more sensitive to the energies around us than you beorc. You should see our armies if you don’t believe me. Once things get real chaotic, nothing can stop them.”

Oh. Perhaps they really are similar.

“The church is chaotic?” Claude is clearly thinking quite hard. Dimitri, meanwhile, is struggling to breathe. “Like a battlefield?”

Ranulf laughs. “Not nearly that bad! Still, churches are usually the most orderly places around. Took me off guard a bit, I guess.”

Suddenly, Edelgard, who has been quite insistent on avoiding Ranulf since he introduced himself as laguz (and what does that mean?), turns to give the conversation her full attention.

Dimitri is still focused on what Ranulf’s words about laguz armies implies.

Battle madness. The chaotic energies of the battlefield overwhelming them until they are unstoppable. Unthinking, even? Dimitri can’t know without prying deeper, and he’s frankly terrified to do so.

He’s never denied that Felix’s observation of him is entirely correct. He is a boar prince. A wild animal. Unthinking, and unstoppable killing beast.

Goddess forgive him, but even if it isn’t quite the same, even if what Ranulf speaks of is nothing like Dimitri is thinking, the mere thought of an entire species of people succumbing to even the mere practical aspect of what plagues Dimitri (That is, only the battle madness – not the… ghosts that he sees even now in this peaceful place – or… or is it truly so peaceful? The thought unsettles Dimitri so deeply that he turns from it, to focus instead on the no less unsettling but much less avoidable thoughts.) is… if it’s true, there must be some way that they counter it.

Dimitri doubts he will ever be brave enough to ask Ranulf about it outright – he definitely doesn’t trust Ranulf enough for that – but he will keep a careful eye on him.

Mad, wild animal as he is, Dimitri is at least aware enough to know that revenge is better served cold. If not, he risks too much… collateral damage. Perhaps it is a vain hope, but so long as there is any hope at all, he will be watching Ranulf closely.

Edelgard doesn’t know what to think. That is very dangerous situation to be in. As soon as she returns to the monastery, she sets Hubert on the information Ranulf has divulged. The laguz, beast-shifters. There are whole tribes of them? Enough for nations? Armies?

In hindsight, it’s not ridiculous. After all, Rhea – Seiros – is a dragon. There’s no reason that it should be impossible for other beasts to take human form. And yet… Ranulf makes no effort to hide what he is. Not like Rhea.

At first, Edelgard thinks he is merely another twisted experiment by the Agarthans. When she sees the transformation, she is reminded of the horrible transformations that crest stones can induce in the crestless. She hasn’t heard of any experiments to make controlled, reversible transformations into demonic beasts, but she hardly expects that the Agarthans are being upfront with her about anything at all, and it is not a terribly illogical goal to aspire for.

But when she asks… he says he’s laguz. Just… a race of peoples, one unknown to Fódlan, with this exact power to transform into a great beast?

Likely story.

Ironically, however, it is the idea of Ranulf being entirely honest about his story that makes her more nervous. If he’s lying, perhaps trying to hide Agartha’s experiments on him by claiming he’s a mere traveler from a distant land where… things like him are normal, then that would make sense. That wouldn’t shake anything about her plan or Fódlan as a whole. In fact, if she’s careful about it, she could even make a powerful ally in him just as she’s hoping to with Lysithea.

If he’s telling the truth, though… the implications are tremendous. Ranulf mentions dragons. Offhandedly, as if dragons are no big deal at all. Is it possible that Rhea is truly nothing more than… laguz? Is that all that the Nabateans are? Some separated tribe of laguz who found their way to Fódlan? What does that mean about the Goddess herself? Could she be just another laguz like all the rest?

She was killed, like any mortal. Edelgard knows this much. Her crest, though significantly more powerful, is not, in practice, much different than any other crest, all of which came from her Nabateans.

If Ranulf is telling the truth, then either he’s in grave danger stepping foot in Rhea’s domain, for his very existence threatens to unravel all of her lies, or it is solely her thoroughness in her lie that allows him to remain. Either way, he will surely be under the closest scrutiny.

If he’s telling the truth, he may ally himself with his kin. With Rhea, who may in fact be laguz under another name. If so, he is Edelgard’s enemy.

Edelgard should not be hurt by that thought. Even still, the familiar pain grips her heart. Another death on her hands. She prays that he chooses to flee instead. He is a foreigner. Laguz or no, he is not Nabatean. Edelgard has no reason to believe so, anyway. He’s no dragon, after all, and he tells tales of his homeland far, far away. Even if the laguz and Nabateans are cousins, she need not hunt down every laguz. It is not him, after all, who rules over Fódlan with lies and tyranny.

That would be as ridiculous as hunting down the Almyrans, and Edelgard is already considering how she might smooth out relations with them and gain an ally rather than an enemy.

Even still… He is just a little too close to her enemy. Edelgard does not know what to think.

Hubert returns later with little information, but what there is seems to corroborate Ranulf’s story. Legends of shapeshifters in foreign lands, mostly regarded as myth, but definitely in line with what Ranulf is saying.

Is he using the myths to guide his fiction, perhaps? Or is his truth guiding the myths?

And what does that mean for Rhea?

Edelgard will go mad with all these questions. Meanwhile, Ranulf himself simply smirks and watches her stumble over her etiquette. As if it’s funny that she hasn’t been taught how to properly address shapeshifting, sentient animals.

Ugh. He is far too much like Claude.

At least there is Byleth. She, Edelgard believes, will be a valuable, if not necessary, asset when the time comes, if only she can sway her to her side. Of this, she is certain.

And with Ranulf snickering at her, certainty is exactly what Edelgard needs. Doubt will crush her dreams in their tracks, and unknowns like Ranulf are too dangerous to leave alone. More than anything, Edelgard needs to watch Ranulf closely, she needs to know what his motives are, how Rhea reacts to him. If Rhea strikes out, perhaps she can draw him to her side. If not…

Well, Edelgard is allied with quite enough monsters already. She doesn’t need to waste precious resources on another. Better to focus on Byleth. Having the Ashen Demon on her side, and possibly the Blade Breaker as well by extension (she is his daughter) is too great a chance to pass up.

It is a shame, though, about Ranulf. Just as Byleth has, he has impressed her on the battlefield. He also has the advantage of being unexpected. Few soldiers will be prepared to fight a beast like him, and that is worth its weight in skill and experience, both of which he clearly also has. That is the same advantage she’s counting on by utilizing demonic beasts, after all, and even if he is considerably more fragile, and less overtly powerful, he is sane and focused, which is far, far more valuable than a rampaging beast.

And… if he is lying… if he was also subjected to Agarthan experimentation…

No, best not think too much on it. The truth will become clear soon enough, just as his allegiance will reveal itself in time. Edelgard needs merely to be patient, careful, and observant.

What’s one more life, in her larger plan? She will watch him, but she will not allow him to throw her off. Freedom will come to Fódlan. Swiftly.

Today is a blessed day. Rhea wakes up knowing it. She is already in good humor when she receives word that the house leaders are returning, and when she reads the message further and sees that Jeralt of all people is returning with them, even she cannot fight the smile that tugs at her lips.

And the day just gets even better.

The message tells of Jeralt’s daughter, accompanying the group. Rhea fears to get her hopes up, that this daughter is the selfsame babe that she gave her mother’s heart to. But, when the party enters the gates and Rhea looks down upon them, there can be no mistake.

Her mother’s heart! It is not lost! All these years, Rhea thought she had finally failed utterly, with no more hope of even trying again, but here… it simply must be fate. Indeed, Rhea has a very good feeling about this child.

What’s more, the notice of a beast-shifter, the thought of which tickles at ancient memories, gives her some concern, but upon seeing him…

His hair is blue, not too far off-shade of the young Bergliez attending the Academy this year, and the ears and tail are too obvious even from Rhea’s perch. More importantly is what she feels deep in her bones.

Recognition.

That is not to say she knows this man, of course. He is without a doubt a stranger to her. But her blood sings with a similar familiarity that she senses in dear Cichol and Cethleann. It’s fainter, more distant, but if she focuses on it, there can be no mistaking. This man, whatever he is, wherever he comes from, is a Child of the Goddess.

Truly, this a blessed day.

Rhea can hardly contain her excitement as she waits for the party to arrive in the audience chamber. She gives them some time to rest and eat but summons them swiftly. Jeralt, dear Jeralt, his daughter – her mother, if Rhea is lucky – and another of her mother’s children, though in an unfamiliar form.

Even dear Cichol’s frown cannot take the luster from this day.

When they finally arrive, Rhea knows instantly that Jeralt’s daughter is not yet Sothis reborn. A true shame, but hope is not lost. With her return, so hope does as well. That fate sees fit to bring Jeralt and his daughter back to Garreg Mach may even mean that this vessel is the one fated to work. Rhea has little choice but to have faith.

And faith she has. Always, in her mother.

And the Child, the one who introduces himself as Ranulf; now that he is so close, Rhea’s bones scream of their relation. She glances to Seteth and sees in his eyes that he feels it as well, though he tries so very hard to remain stern and mean. In fact, Ranulf himself eyes them both with a very interesting look that tells Rhea that even he feels it.

A long lost brother – or given he is no dragon, perhaps it is better to say cousin – wandering right onto her doorstep alongside the vessel of her mother. His mother, as well?

It pains Rhea to admit it, but she truly does not know a thing about Ranulf. She has never heard of the laguz he claims to be. Her best idea is that they are another group of Mother’s children, though why She never mentioned them to the Nabateans, to Rhea, she does not know.

It could also be that the relation is even more distant, that Ranulf is truly a cousin, that Mother has a sister, or brother, somewhere else in the world and is having their own children in a similar, but different image. If that’s true, then that aunt or uncle was never mentioned by her Mother. Not to Rhea.

That is a mystery, and one that Rhea has every intention of solving, but what is undoubtable is that Ranulf is her brother. In some way, it is true. She feels it in the way that only Mother’s Children do, and she reads his recognition in his face and the twitching of his tail as easily as she feels their relation in her blood.

Though, looking at him now, perhaps he is not a brother, but a nephew. He cannot be young, not like Byleth, not by human standards, but he is still so youthful. Compared to Rhea, at least, he is, without a doubt, a child. Perhaps older than Cethleann, before her slumber, or perhaps the cats are different from the dragons.

It’s is so painful, not knowing about her kin, and yet Rhea feels little but joy that he has found her now. Seteth warns her of caution, but Rhea will not turn away their kin, however distant he may be. Seteth knows as well as her how it feels to lose family. Any family found is nothing short of a miracle.

Not to mention how he walks into Mother’s domain at their Mother’s side.

It can only be a sign, and so Rhea welcomes the miracle that is Ranulf with open arms.