#and by the timeline edelgard left the monastery before even the lions so she was around them the least amount of time)

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

"i know we shouldn't be killing rhea and i personally am against it and my gut tells me this is wrong but i'll do it anyway because nobody else uses logic on this route anyway!"

[script-the-skeleton]

FE3H AU that I want to write but don’t know 100% of the lore of the game to accurately depict.

After trying multiple times for a golden ending, Byleth resets one last time with a new plan that could be her last

She remeets Sothis. “How many more tries must we do this? It will never work, we have tried everything! Oh? Well, I have always wondered what would happen in the End.”

Byleth smiled at her father and calls him such for the first time before heading into battle.

Byleth takes the knife for Edelgard but doesn’t rewind time. She dies, the last thing she sees is Eldelgard’s terrified and regretful face. In that moment, her hair turns the light green and the Ashen Demon is no more.

Jeralt is heartbroken, and furious because Rhea definitely did something to his kid with that hair, so he agrees in a rage to go back to the monastery. He wants to bury Byleth with where he thinks her mother is buried and fight with Rhea.

The Lords all are affected from Byleth’s death, they asked this person for help and they died for them. Claude is silent, Dimitri prays for her soul to be put to rest, and Edelgard can’t comprehend why a stranger would throw away their life for her. She feels extra guilty since the bandits were her fault and now she killed an innocent. None of them can stop apologizing.

They get to Garreg Mach and the real differences begin here. Jeralt yells and argue with Rhea, but can ultimately do no more than demand Byleth be buried with his wife. He stays for a month for her funear before leaving with his mercenaries.

The third teacher is Jeritza, but he somehow gets stuck with the Blue Lions. Hannerman is with the Black Eagles. Maneula is with the Golden Deer.

That’s when the clock breaks.

The three main lords start seeing and hearing things. They’ll blink and they’ll see a different proffessor in front of them. They’ll hear the song of the goddess from dark corners or the slashing a bone sword going through enemies. They remember timelines that shouldn’t exist in fragments and they are all secretly going insane.

Hubert tries to push Edelgard to continue with their plans, but she was so affected by Byleth’s death that she tells him to hold off. She doesn’t know why, but it pained her so much that one death. Hubert obliges, but TWSITD are restless.

Throughout the story, the respective teachers help each house. Mercedes finds out Jeritza is her brother and them connecting again leads him to branch off from Edelgard’s plans, because he doesn’t want to hurt his sister. Manuela recruits Dorathea with her aspirations to continue opera and even helps Ignatz with his paintings. Hannerman recruits Lysithea and they research over her multiple crests. Edelgard hears about this and joins, coming to realize how much TWSITD are responsible for her pain and not the church.

TWSITD attack even though Edelgard has declared that she would no longer help them and would activly fight against them if they pushed. They are pushed back from the tomb and other holy areas, the the crypt that supposedly held Seiros’ remains was empty, no sword in sight, as they three lords defeats their soldiers.

After that battle, the three lords no see a figure take shape in their rooms. They are mix between Sothis and Byleth, making them look slightly younger than Byleth, so around 17 or 18, and they don’t know who they are, not even their name. The talk to the lords and act like Sothis did in the game. Dimitri thinks its another ghost from the past, projecting the mercenary who died for them, and ignores it. Claude talks to it every once in a while and has pleasent conversations. Edelgard tries to ignore it, but eventually uses it as a therapist whenever she needs to talk to someone.

Remire Village and the attack on Garreg Mach have little to no causalities. Flayn was never kidnapped, so Monica never showed up, and Jeralt wasn’t even there so he never died. The Flame Emperor also never makes an appearance in general.

The following month still left a lot of people feeling dour for reasons they didn’t understand.

Edelgard recieves word from visiting her father that TWSITD are planning one more attack to steal the crest stones. She is crowned emperor and quickly runs back to the academy. She admits to Dimitri and Claude, after the ghost tells her to trust them, that she was being puppetee by TWSITD and that she hasn’t followed them in months, she leaves out the part where she tried to kill them at the beginning of the year, and ask for their help.

They agree and take on the battle in the maseuleum, or however you spell it. TWSITD are there and they fight back. They all notice a figure up on a magnificent throne, she is sitting upright and unmoving and was wearing clothing of the goddess.

“It’s her!” They all say at once as they recognize an older version of the ghost, the greened haired Byleth on the throne, a sword in her lap.

Rhea comes in after the enemies retreat and tells them to leave the area. Edelgard pushes and asks why that woman was on the throne and not buried, and how come her body hadn’t rotted away since she died. Rhea refuses to answer and even threatens them to stay quiet, but still thanks them for protecting what was sacred.

Edelgard thanks the two lords for helping her and she tells them that she will be leaving school early to help dismantle TWSITD.

Following that day for the next five years, the only time they ever see the ghost is when it is asleep and drapped over a chair.

FIVE YEARS LATER!

Edelgard declared her empire seperate from the church, cutting all ties off except for trades while still allowing the faith, without declaring war. Rhea is furious about this but Seteth makes sure she doesn’t do anything rash. Edelgard is still looking with the help of her classmates for the remains of the Agarthins, who have been hiding from her.

Claude is leader of the alliance and is setting in place laws that would end discrimination against foreigners and those without crests. He even visits Almyra frequently, though no one is exactly sure who. He never officially said anything against the church, but it isn’t a secret that he isn’t a believer.

Dimitri no longer sees ghosts of any kind and is a fair ruler to his kingdom. He is the only lord that has close connections to the church and even still talks to Rhea. He has good relations with the empire also, so much that the people say he and Edelgard are like siblings.

Hannerman, with the help of one crest stone that Edelgard slipped him after that one attack, learned the secrets to multiple crests. Lysithea and Edelgard are both free, leaving them with no crests which they are fine with, and their lifespans have lengthened. Their hair even turned back its natural color.

As for the ghost, it always appears in the highest ranking chair to fall asleep in the room the lords are in. Edelgard can no longer sit on her throne without feeling rude, so she is never near it. Dimitri has swapped out his throne for another chair, lying and saying he wasn’t worthy for his father’s throne. Claude doesn’t have a throne, just the head of a table, and he never really sat down when he talked. The ghost also shivers frequently, like they are cold. Weirdly, putting a blanket over it seems to work.

Then, on the 1000 year anniversary of the church being built, the ghost vanishes and is no where to be found. All three lords are going to the ball held at Garreg Mach for their reunions and to show that they hold no ill will to the church. When they get there, they all have the feeling like something is wrong, but they can’t place it.

Individually, they all go to the goddess tower, for they make out the image of the awake ghost. When they make it up there, no one but the living are there and they finally realize that they can all see the ghost. They come to the conclusion that this was something that had to do with the corpse in the basement.

The ball is interupted with spears of light start blowing up the world. Fives years without war led to the Argathins seeking power and they are attacking. All three groups, plus some of the church, find and defeat all the Argathins.

This part isn’t expanded on here because there isn’t much to it except its the endgame of the Golden Deer/Silver Snow path and they defeat the big bads while everyone is still alive.

After the battle, they all go back to the church and go look for the corspe. They find it along with Rhea, who fights them to keep them away.

They defeat her and she admits that she tried to raise the goddess back with Byleth, who held her power. The ghost reveals herself to be the fusion of Byleth and Sothis to Rhea and yells her out mom style about how idiotic is was to try to bring her back at the risk of other people.

The ghost explains how she wanted a perfect ending where everyone was alive and no one fought, and they only way to that was her death, which kickstarted Edelgard realizing her mistakes. She asks them to say hi to Jeralt for her, says goodbye to her daughter, and fades away.

This whole AU I really wanted to explore what would happen if Byleth did die and I realized how much that would’ve affect Edelgard. The war might’ve still happened, but Edelgard was pushed forward by how Byleth was treated by Rhea and by TWSITD. I also like imaging a timeline without Byleth where all the lords keep seeing her and can sometimes talk, but she isn’t really there. I just imagine Dimitri’s internally screaming, Edelgard’s seen weirder, and Claude still calls the ghost teach through instinct and just spills the tea of his daily life to her.

[finalfantasyandnerdiness]

da capo al fine

For eternal beings, the ebbs and flows of time mean very little. Whatever happens, the world will keep moving forward, and so will they. No end. No beginning. For a human, though? Every second counts.

Every word.

Every decision.

A mortal with the power to turn back time is a fearsome creature, because a mortal cares – and if they decide that they’re going to find a timeline where everyone they love survives, they will do whatever it takes to make it happen. Even if it means abusing a power that was never meant to be theirs.

A Fire Emblem Three Houses retelling where everybody lives, basically. Also: Dimileth. 

Read on Ao3

For eternal beings, the ebbs and flows of time mean very little. Whatever happens, the world will keep moving forward, and so will they. No end. No beginning. For a human, though? Every second counts.

Every word.

Every decision.

A mortal with the power to turn back time is a fearsome creature, because a mortal cares – and if they decide that they’re going to find a timeline where everyone they love survives, they will do whatever it takes to make it happen. Even if it means abusing a power that was never meant to be theirs.

*

“You. How long do you intend to sleep?”

Byleth opens her eyes. A young girl she vaguely recognizes stares down at her from a throne of stone. Her eyes, as eerily green as her hair, are expectant and clearly annoyed.

Where am I? Byleth shakes her head in an attempt to clear the cobwebs clouding her mind. Who am I?

“Get on your feet. Right now!” the girl snaps. “You are just like a child, always needing me to hold your hand…” She sighs. “This is the last time, you hear me? No more restarts. This is it.”

Byleth has no idea what any of it means, but she still nods.

The girl’s face softens. “Make it count.”

*

The first seconds are always the worst. Byleth never gets used to those terrifying moments where her entire being is a blank slate. She knows she’s supposed to recognize the bearded man in front of her, but he could just as well have been a complete stranger. Then, it clicks. Everything falls into place. He’s her father. She’s a mercenary. And, most importantly, she’s been here before.

*

Even though most of Byleth’s memories are blurry, the ones about the three heirs are always crystal clear. One look is all it takes to remember their tragic fates. Blue eyes, full of barely restrained hatred. Green eyes, sharp as a blade. Violet eyes, burning with determination. Three young rulers, destined to tear each other apart.

Not this time. Byleth looks at them, one by one, treasuring the innocence they will all inevitably lose. She’s lived through this chain of events more times than she can remember, getting closer and closer to her goal just to see a seemingly insignificant detail turn her dream to dust. Not this time, though. Sothis has given her one last chance, and she won’t let it go to waste.

This time, they will all live.  

*

To the boys’ obvious disappointment, Byleth chooses to join the house of the Black Eagles. The three heirs are all suspicious by nature, but Edelgard easily takes the crown. Edelgard trusts no one but herself, which isn’t that surprising considering her only experience with friendship comes from a man who can’t get through a single sentence without mentioning blood. She’s hidden her heart away behind walls as impenetrable as her armor, doing her best to smother the fear and loneliness that lures within her. To bring the true Edelgard out of her shell takes time. Lots, and lots of time. So Byleth picks the Black Eagles, and tries not to notice the flash of darkness in Dimtri’s eyes.

*

Dimitri is young. So very young. He’s yet to grow into the inhuman strength he’ll one day wield with ease, still grinning awkwardly every time he accidentally breaks another training sword. He’s a prince, charming and polite, the definition of picture perfect. No one has any idea what hides behind that flawless smile.

Yet.

Byleth sees the way he looks at her, how his gaze lingers when she swings her blade on the training grounds. Their eyes meet. Her body instinctively reacts, but she forces herself to ignore it. Chronologically, he’s only three years younger than her, but he’s still a kid. Her conflicted heart, however, still remembers the king.

Her life would have been so much easier if she hadn’t fallen in love with him all those lifetimes ago. He forgets. She doesn’t.

*

Before Garreg Mach, Byleth used to think of herself as a fairly unemotional person. People called her the Ashen Demon for a reason. She didn’t really get people, and people didn’t really get her either. Then, she met her students, and everything changed. Now, she cares a lot, and it’s more tiring than she ever could have imagined.

“There we go again,” she mutters to herself as she watches Raphael and Caspar race through the courtyard, up to goddess knows what. She loves them both with all her heart, but critical thinking is not one of their virtues. To be frank, neither is thinking, period. She sighs and hurries after them. She has no idea what they’re going to break this time—a plate, a nose, a window—but they’re definitely breaking something.

*

Byleth has just left her private quarters to head to class when she nearly crashes into Seteth.

“Professor. There’s an… issue, we need to talk about.”

Of course there is. She sighs internally. Sometimes, she wishes she could just skip past certain conversations. She’s gone through this particular one so many times by now that she practically knows every line by heart.

Seteth clears his throat. “Due to your unexpectedly extraordinary tutoring skills, nearly all of this year’s students have requested to transfer to your class. While the feat in itself is admirable, it has led to some unfortunate consequences. Hanneman and Manuela now only share four students between them, and I’ve heard that your classroom is running out of desks. It’s not a very efficient way to run a school.”

“I agree.”

Seteth blinks in surprise. “You do?”

She nods. “I’ve given it some thought, and I think the best solution would be to separate the professors from their assigned houses.”

“That’s a preposterous—”

“The houses themselves would remain, of course,” she quickly adds. “I only propose that we rethink the way we hold our classes. The three of us have different areas of expertise, and we could use that to our advantage if we split up the classes by subject instead of houses.”

“I see.” Seteth hesitates, furrowing his brow. “It’s an unorthodox idea, but… I do see the benefits of your proposal. It could be… efficient. I will get back to you once I have discussed this with Rhea.”

Byleth nods again. Rhea will, albeit reluctantly, say yes, because when Seteth finds something that can be described as efficient, he will make it happen. The classes will be split up between the three professors, and Byleth will get the chance to tutor all the students – including those stubborn last four.

She’s not losing them again.

*

At the night of the ball, Byleth makes sure that it’s the students of the Blue Lions house who make the promise to reunite in five years. Their carefree laughter makes her stomach turn. They have no idea what fate she’s just bound them to.

Dimitri’s smile hurts the most, but she goes through with it anyway. She needs him to be there when she wakes up.

*

Even though Byleth knows it’s hopeless, she still always tries to save Jeralt.

Losing him never stops hurting.

*

“Thanks for letting me borrow your old man’s diary, Teach,” Claude says.

Byleth snatches the notebook out of his hands. “You would have stolen it anyway if I’d said no.”

“Me? Stealing?” He grins, placing a hand on his chest. “Your lack of faith in my moral compass wounds me.”

Byleth raises her eyebrows.

Claude sighs, his façade flickering. “All joking aside, I have to admit that some of the stuff in there is pretty hard to swallow – especially the parts about you. I’ve got so many questions, and I doubt you’ll ever answer a single one of them.” His eyes twinkle. “You sure know how to drive a guy crazy, Teach.”

Byleth shrugs. His obvious frustration doesn’t bother her – not anymore. He’ll eventually figure everything out anyway, with or without her answers. He just doesn’t know it yet.

*

She loves all her students. She really does. But sometimes, she can’t help but think that if Ferdinand yells out his name one more time, she’s going to strangle him.

*

“It’s not my place to question your way of tutoring, but I do feel the need ask you about the attendance record of one of your students,” Seteth says. “Linhardt von Hevring has been absent from nearly half of your classes this month, and I’ve noticed a lack of disciplinary actions. I would recommend stable duty or—”

“He’s doing important research,” Byleth interrupts. “As long as he keeps passing his tests, I don’t see any reason not to encourage it.”

“Well… I suppose I will have to trust your judgment, Professor.” Judging by his frown, he’s clearly not trusting it at all.  

Byleth nods. She doesn’t blame Seteth for being skeptical. She would probably have doubted Linhardt too if she hadn’t known just how important that research would be to give some of her students a chance to grow old.

*

While the inferno of hatred that sometimes flares up in Dimitri’s eyes is undeniably terrifying, it doesn’t scare Byleth nearly as much as the cold apathy in Rhea’s.

*

A high-pitched shriek echoes over the monastery. People start looking for its source with obvious concern, but Byleth just smiles a little to herself. The boys of the Black Eagles house always figure out sooner or later that the only way to get Bernie out of her comfort zone is to literally carry her out of it.

*

Every now and then, Byleth slips. She tries to keep everything in the right order, to remember what she’s supposed to know and what’s yet to be revealed, but her memory is far from infallible. Most of the time, no one mentions her little accidents. She’s a strategist, after all. Predicting things is a part of her job description. Some slips, though, are too obvious to go unnoticed.

“Professor… Did you just call me El?”

Byleth groans internally. Yes, she most certainly did. It’s late, she’s tired, and she just casually used a nickname the heiress would never, ever, share with a professor she barely knows.    

“No one has called me that since I was a kid. Those who once did are long gone.” Edelgard’s eyes narrow. “How did you know?”

“My apologies,” Byleth says. “I just thought it suited you. I won’t use it again.”

“No… I quite like it.” While the suspicion still lingers in Edelgard’s gaze, a small smile graces her lips. “Please, keep calling me El. I’m not sure why, but I enjoyed hearing you say it.”

Byleth nods. “If that’s the case, I will.”

“Good.” A hint of shyness sweeps over the future emperor’s face. “Thank you, my teacher. It may not seem like much, but it means a lot to me.”

The next time Byleth uses that name, it’s not by accident.

*

Felix’ digs at Dimitri are as sharp as his blade, and so is the resentment in eyes. Dimitri takes the insults without blinking. Their friendship is laced with a burning hatred they both believe is justified. It’s painful to watch, especially considering how easily the swordsman would give his life to protect his childhood friend. He never hesitates. Not even once.

*

“You fool! What were you thinking, charging right into an enemy’s trap? Again?” Sothis’ sharp voice echoes against the stone walls. “Are you just a boulder rolling down whatever hill it’s on? No, even a boulder has more sense!”

Byleth lowers her eyes. Her least favorite part of the cycles may be the first awakening, but this is the one Sothis dreads the most. Not surprising, considering that this is where the goddess has to disappear. It’s inevitable, though, even if she doesn’t run head first into Solon’s spell. Sooner or later they always end up here, facing the same decision over and over again. Sothis always makes the same choice.

“Thank you,” Byleth whispers. “For everything.”

Byleth reaches out her hand, and the power of the goddess seeps into her soul.  

*

Callused hands gently stroke her bangs out of her face. Her consciousness is fading, but she doesn’t need to see to know whose hand it is. She would recognize that touch anywhere.

“Sorry, Professor,” Dimitri says. “I have no choice but to carry you back.”

*

Byleth raises her eyebrows as Sylvain limps into the training grounds. “Ingrid?”

“Yes.” He awkwardly scratches the back of his head.

“Did you deserve it?”

After a moment of hesitation, he sighs. “Yes.”

*

The sight of Edelgard’s coronation is as breathtaking as it is terrifying. The ceremony marks the beginning of a nationwide bloodbath, but Byleth still can’t look away from the blinding beauty that is Emperor Edelgard with a golden crown on her head.

*

A cacophony of rattling armor and frantic prayers fills the monastery. The moment Byleth hoped to avoid is once again taking place before her eyes. She leans against the railing of the third floor balcony. In the distance she sees Edelgard’s army gathering, preparing for the first battle of the war that will tear Fódlan apart.  

It can’t be stopped now. It’s too late. Byleth’s time ran out the moment Edelgard’s betrayal set Dimitri’s dormant fury aflame. The war is happening. Her only option now is damage control.

“Hey, Teach.”

Byleth flinches. Even after countless cycles of nearly identical events, she’s still caught off guard every now and then – especially when Claude is involved. He’s turned unpredictability into an artform.  

Claude moves to her side. His calculating eyes roam over the area below. His expression and posture radiate confidence, but his desperate grip on the railing has already turned his knuckles white.

“It can’t be stopped now,” he says, echoing Byleth’s thoughts. “Neither of those two will ever allow the other to live. There’s going to be a war, and it’s not going to be pretty.”

“So much death.” Byleth’s voice cracks. She’s seen it happen before, and now she’s going to have to see it again. She knew, but she still couldn’t stop it.

“You don’t have to go down with them, you know.” Claude sends her a quick glance before turning back to the soon-to-be battlefield. “This is their feud, not yours. I mean, just consider it. Someone’s got to protect the people in this mess, and that someone could definitely use that strategic brain of yours.”

“And in this scenario, that ‘someone’ is you?”

“If the shoe fits.” Claude shrugs. “I don’t care about who wins this war. I have a vision, and that vision would be pretty useless if there was no one left in Fódlan to see it. What do you say? Have I won you over yet?” A grin tugs at his lips. “You’d make a good Deer.”

She would.

She has.

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” He tilts his head to the side. “Too fond of the kinglinesses, eh?”

She hesitates for a moment before deciding to, for once, tell the truth. “You’ll survive this war, with or without my guidance. You don’t need me. Not like they do.”

“Careful there, Teach. You’re starting to sound like you can predict the future.” His gaze sharpens. “Did you know that the Battle of the Eagle and Lion still keeps me up at night? I go over every move I made, every detail of my strategy, and how you managed to see through it all. It’s been driving me crazy – crazy enough to consider the possibility of you being some kind of mind reader. But that’s not it, is it?” He gives her a dangerous grin that almost reaches his eyes. “Come on, Teach, give a curious guy some peace of mind. I don’t kiss and tell.”

“If I told you, you’d never let me go.”

Her words clearly catch Claude off guard, which is a sight very few ever get to witness. For a moment he looks like he’s going to jokingly deny her claim, but in the end he just sighs. “I’d use you.”

She nodded. “And you’d end up hating yourself for it.”

“Fair enough.”

Claude studies her face, the cogs of his brilliant mind turning. His charming trickster façade flickers, revealing a taste of the unstoppable man he will one day become. “Let’s say you’re right, Teach. Maybe I don’t need you by my side to make my vision come true. Doesn’t mean I don’t want you there.”

Memories of wild wyvern rides, uncontrollable laughter, and pearls of sweat on copper skin flashes before her eyes. Heat rushes to her cheeks. He blinks.

“Oh, I get it.” The lighthearted tone in his voice clashes wildly against the intensity in his eyes. “There’s a version of this, whatever this is, where you choose me, isn’t there? One where you and I…?”

“Maybe.” She gives him a melancholic smile. “Just… not this one.”

*

Byleth knows she has to fall. She has to take that final blow that sends her down into the abyss. It’s the only way to make things turn out the way she wants to. She knows that, but she’s still just as terrified when the darkness claims her.

*

“You… how long do you intend to sleep? Get on your feet. Right now!”

*

The stairs leading up to the ruins of the old monastery are littered with butchered corpses. Carefully minding her steps, Byleth continues forward, heading towards the place where she knows she’ll find the wretched shell of the boy she abandoned when he needed her the most.

He’s on the floor, leaning heavily on his lance to stay upright. His pale skin is stained with blood. The dark circle surrounding his one remaining eye has the color of a bruise. Sweat, mud, wounds, scars – his handsome face is covered in layers upon layers of suffering. The guilt hits her in the stomach like a sledgehammer. Even though she always knows what awaits her at the end of her five-year slumber, she’s never prepared for that first sight of the haunted creature that used to be Dimitri.

Her dream comes with many sacrifices, and this is the one where Dimitri pays the price. The king that Fódlan so desperately needs can only rise from the ruins of a broken prince.

The prince in front of her is about as broken as a man can be.  

Byleth knows he won’t accept her hand, but she still reaches out for him. She always does. And it always breaks her heart when he turns away.

“I should have known that one day you would be haunting me as well.”

*

The abandoned monastery springs back to life as its former teachers and students return. One by one they enter Garregh Mach, all of them bringing a shard of joy and a small shimmer of hope. Byleth smiles as she watches a highly frustrated Lysithea try to put a book back on a shelf she clearly can’t reach. Her smile widens even more when Raphael enters the library. She knows exactly where the situation is heading, and she never grows tired of watching her former students get into ridiculous fights over absolute nonsense.

Her happiness is genuine, but it’s also bittersweet. This is where the tricky part begins.  

*

“Leave it to me,” Byleth yells as she crosses the battlefield, heading towards the trembling silver-haired foe. It’s not a very strategic decision, but no one questions her. Maybe they’re all relieved they won’t have to be the one dealing the final blow against the sweetest boy to ever grace the Officers Academy.  

*

When Dorothea dances, she enthralls everyone around her. No one, friend nor foe, can look away. They see a rose in bloom: beautiful, delicate, and full of life. She doesn’t. No matter how many times Byleth tries to convince her otherwise, the songstress still only sees herself as petals slowly falling to the ground, leaving nothing but thorns.

*

Byleth is well aware of the location where Rhea is kept prisoner, but she still pretends to be just as concerned as the rest of the archbishop’s loyal supporters. She holds on to her worried façade with an iron grip, because keeping Rhea locked up is the only way to prevent her from crushing Byleth’s plan before it’s even started.

Though they’d never admit it themselves, Dimitri, Edelgard and Claude share a fairly similar vision. The three of them fight for a unified Fódlan, where the strong will no longer prey on the weak. In a world like that, there’s no place for a power-hungry demigoddess. Byleth knows it, and so does Rhea.

*

A part of Byleth hates Dimitri with her entire being during his feral phase. Another part still loves him just as intensely. Her exasperated frustration is, however, always present, because spending hours upon hours on building a strategy around a murder machine with zero sense of self-perseverance makes her want throw the prince off a damn roof.

She finds him in the cathedral as always, muttering morbid nonsense about ghosts and heads being ripped off their shoulders. While she doesn’t usually agree with Felix when he calls the prince a wild boar, she has to admit that approaching Dimitri when he’s like this feels a bit like cornering a wounded animal – an animal with a very bad temper and very sharp claws.

“Dimitri,” she says softly. “We need to talk.”

Dimitri slowly turns around. Despite everything that’s happened to him, he still moves with the proud confidence of a ruler. He stands tall before her, his broad shoulders blocking the evening’s last rays of sunlight trickling in from the windows. The resentment in his single eye is merciless.

“Leave.”

“No.” She raises her chin. “Your army expects me to guide them through this war, and I can’t do that if you continue to disregard my orders. The stunt you pulled today with those bandits… You’re going to get yourself killed, and you’re taking everyone down with you. I can’t allow that.”

“You can’t allow that?” His cold chuckle sends a shiver down her spine. “Who do you think you are, giving orders to the walking corpse of your prince?”

He takes a step forward, and despite her feigned confidence, she takes a step back. A grave mistake. He continues forward, and she continues to back away. The wounded animal has caught the scent of blood.

Her back hits the wall. He places a hand next to her head and leans forward, caging her in. She’s fast and clever, but he’s got more raw strength than a mere human should ever possess. She would never defeat him in hand-to-hand combat, and they both know it.

“If you do not approve of what I have become, then kill me”, he says. “If you insist that you cannot… then I will continue to use you and your friends until the flesh falls from your bones.”

She swallows hard, but refuses to look away. Her courage might be wavering, but her resolve is not. “I’m not afraid of you, Dimitri.”

“You should be.” His gloved hand slowly traces her arm, her shoulder, her collarbone, until finally coming to a rest on her neck. His thumb caresses the vulnerable skin of her throat before giving it a light squeeze. “Don’t you dare pity me, Professor. We’re the same, you and I. After all is said and done, we are both murderers. Both stained. Both monsters.”

“Yes,” she whispers. “We are.”

His pauses. For the first time since their reunion, he truly looks at her. His trembling exhalation tells her he’s finally noticed it – her longing, her yearning, her need – and he snaps. His lips crash into hers. She melts into his ruthless touch, returning the kiss with a desperation matching his.

She’s back.

She’s home.

He pulls back, his eye roaming her face with childlike wonder. To her, this is just one of the countless kisses they’ve already shared, but to him, it’s their first – and, as far as he knows, possibly their last. A moan escapes her lips as he grabs the back of her thighs and hoists her up. His grip tightens to the point where it will most certainly leave bruises. He clings to her like a man on the verge of drowning.

“I won’t leave you again, Dimitri,” she says, entangling her fingers in his hair as his lips wander down her throat. “I swear it.”

“Good.” He bites down hard on the spot where her neck meets her shoulder, a place where neither her hair nor her clothes would hide the mark. She can’t see his face, but she feels his feral grin against her skin. “I do not intend to let you go.”

*

Manuela and Hanneman have been bickering for nearly half an hour when Sylvain walks by their table in the dining hall. He pauses mid-step and leans down.

“You’re aware that everyone knows you’re sleeping with each other, right?”

Hanneman gasps. Manuela screams. Ingrid kicks Sylvain in the shin.

*

Some sacrifices are uglier than others. Rodrigue’s death, as necessary as it is, might be the ugliest one of them all.

*

“Your hands are so warm… Have they always been?”

The last remains of the broken prince is washed away by the pouring rain. The king rises.

*

One day, Mercedes drags a reluctant Death Knight into the monastery. She smiles proudly, reminding Byleth of a child that’s about to ask her parents if she can keep the stray cat she just found in the gutter. Byleth can’t deny the value of Jeritza’s skills, so he stays. On the battlefield, she appreciates his presence. Everywhere else, she’s ambiguous at best. She tries to believe Mercedes when she claims that her brother is just a little bit misunderstood, but he’s not making it easy. Not even once during her countless lifetimes has she managed to get share a cup of tea with the knight without receiving a poetic confession of how badly he wants to stab her in the chest.

*

Byleth is never as calm as when she’s lying in Dimitri’s arms, listening to the soft thuds of his beating heart. She can’t help but wonder what it’s like to have a ticking little machine in your chest that keeps you alive. According to Dimitri, people usually don’t even think about it. It’s just there. She wonders if she would get used to it too, if her heart ever were to start beating.

She highly doubts it.

*

Sylvain pauses mid-step as he passes Dimitri and Byleth in the dining hall. He smirks.

“You’re aware that everyone knows you’re—”

Ingrid clocks him in the head with a plate.

*

Byleth hates Gronder Field.

*

“If you’re going to lead Fódlan, then the Alliance lords will follow you.” Claude hands Dimitri his bow. The former leader of the Alliance is limping a little, but overall, he seems to have gotten through the battle more or less unharmed. He always does. It’s like his plans have so many backup plans that not even death itself can keep track of what’s going on.  

“I’ve played my part now,” he continues. “Right, Teach?”

“You have,” Byleth says. “Thank you for trusting us.” Wordlessly, she adds, Thank you for trusting me.

“I knew you’d come. You’re a bunch of soft-hearted suckers after all.” Claude winks, and wordlessly replies, Always.

“Go to Almyra. Make your vision come true, Kha—” She bites her tongue, but the slip is already out. “Claude. Make your vision come true, Claude.”

“Your wish is my command.” He gives her a sarcastic little bow, keeping eye contact through the entire movement. His grin has a knowing edge. “Too bad I’ll never get to experience that other version, eh? I bet it was a fun one.”

Byleth smiles. “It was.”  

*

Hilda manages to break an impressive amount of hearts – and furniture – during the few days she stays at the monastery before jumping back up on her wyvern to follow Claude to Almyra.

*

This is it.

Byleth clenches her trembling fists as Edelgard walks up to Dimitri. For the first time in many, many years, the two of them speak in earnest. Their conversation is calm and sensible, dancing around the unavoidable for as long as they can. Eventually, they reach the point of no return. They share the same vision, but they both conclude that their methods are too disparate to coexist.  

In every other timeline, this is where Byleth loses. Dimitri and Edelgard go their separate ways, and one of them winds up dead. She takes a deep breath. Not this time.

“Neither of you will see your dream come true unless we defeat Those Who Slither in the Dark.” She looks at a highly skeptical Edelgard, and then turn her gaze to a very confused Dimitri. This is the moment she’s been preparing for since she first laid eyes on the three heirs. This is why she spent so much effort on returning lost items, organizing choir practices, and saving money for expensive tea. This is it.

“Do you trust me?”

*

The temporary truce between the Holy Kingdom and the Empire is anything but pretty. The wounds each side have caused the other are too deep to heal with a simple common goal. What they all share, though, is their loyalty to their respective leader – and their leaders have decided to put their faith in their old professor.

Together, they prepare for their march to Shambhala.

*

An unavoidable side effect of the truce is the liberation of Rhea.

If Rhea knows Byleth’s true feelings, she doesn’t show it. The demigoddess keeps giving Byleth that serene smile, treating her like a companion, a mother, and a daughter all at once. Byleth plays along, because she knows all too well how Rhea reacts when someone questions her authority. It always ends with fire. Lots, and lots of fire.

Byleth keeps up her dangerous act, because Rhea can’t show her true face yet. Those Who Slither in the Dark must be defeated before the world burns.

*

“You never told me about Those Who Slither in the Dark,” Dimitri murmurs, softly stroking Byleth’s hair. “Why would you hide such a thing from me?”

“If I’d told you, you would have gone after them yourself.” She presses a kiss to his jaw before settling back down on his chest. Her body relaxes to the sound of his heartbeats. “We wouldn’t have made it on our own.”

A lie, of course, but it’s a white one.

He sighs. “Even now, after all this time, you are still a mystery to me. My beloved, will you ever entrust me with your secrets?”

“When all of this is over, I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”

Truth.

*

Edelgard grabs Byleth’s arm and pulls her to the side. “For as long as the Church of Seiros controls Fódlan, this war will never end,” she says in a low voice. “I will continue down this path until the people of this land are free to decide their own fates. I have devoted my life to destroying the blood-stained cycle the church so desperately wishes to uphold. Defeating Those Who Slither in the Dark will not lead me astray.”

“I know.”

They stand in silence for a while, watching the army close in on the underground city.

“Will you go back to them, once this battle is over? To him?” Edelgard lowers her eyes. “You were once like family to me. I do not regret my decision to start this war, but I cannot help but wonder how things would have been if I’d walked down this path with you by my side.”

Better, yet so much worse.  

After making sure no one’s listening, Byleth leans closer. “I want the cycle to end, too, El. So does Dimitri.”

“A highborn person like him will never understand the struggles of the poor and weak.” Edelgard scoffs. “He believes they cannot survive without their faith, that it’s their useless prayers to a goddess who will never answer that keep them alive. He claims to speak on the behalf of the people, yet he still refuses to let go of the system that is causing this injustice. Do you truly believe that he will change his mind, my teacher? That a man like him can ever see the truth?”

“I hope so. Just like I hope that you, once this is over, will see that you both share the same vision.”

“That’s a dangerous gamble, even for a strategist like you.” She snorts, her eyes glittering with amusement. “But then again, I do remember the days when you used to make plans based entirely on lucky hits.”

*

Byleth has never seen anything as terrifying or as beautiful as Dimitri and Edelgard fighting side by side. Power, grace, speed, skill – together, the two rulers are unstoppable. Edelgard gives Dimitri a short nod when Areadbhar blocks an enemy blade moments before it slashes her side. Dimitri’s lips twitch when she returns the favor, her shield blocking an arrow aimed at his chest.

In perfect synchronization, they both fall back as they reach their final foe. With the Emperor and the King guarding her back, Byleth raises the Sword of the Creator.

Thales falls.

*

“So, uh, are we still at war or what?” Caspar asks, casting nervous glances left and right as the army leaves the ruins of Shambhala.

Linhardt yawns. “I have no idea.”

In all honesty, neither did Byleth.

*

Back at Garreg Mach, Rhea, still affected by her years of imprisonment, once again tries to entrust Byleth with the leadership of the Church of Seiros. The demigoddess eyes turn cold when Byleth declines.

“The world is changing, Seiros,” Byleth says. “Humanity is rising up. Fódlan belongs to its people, and It’s time for the children of Sothis to let go.”

Rhea reacts just like Byleth knew she would. A guttural roar pierces the tense silence of the monastery.

The world burns.  

*

The crest stones within the soldiers and monks of the Church of Seiros react to the Immaculate One’s calls, and soon, the monastery is crawling with mindless beasts. The two armies are once again forced to work together, and so is Dimitri and Edelgard. Putting their grudge back on pause, the two of them raise their weapons against the feral creature that used to be Rhea.

Out of all of Byleth’s battles against the Immaculate One, this should have been the easiest one. With two armies instead of one, she was certain the odds were in their favor – but, as always, it turns out there’s a detail she’s overlooked.  

With Dimitri’s and Edelgard’s strength combined, Those Who Slither in the Dark went down much faster than Byleth predicted. Thales never managed to summon his javelins of light. Rhea never took that almost lethal hit to save them all.

This version of the Immaculate One, worn-out but mostly unharmed, is the strongest one Byleth has ever faced.

Over and over, Byleth sends the coiled blade of the Sword of the Creator through the air, but every time an enemy falls another one takes its place. All around her, soldiers of the Kingdom and the Empire alike fall victim to the Immaculate One’s merciless fire. True terror fills Byleth’s chest. She miscalculated, and this time, she won’t be able to go back and make things right. This is her last shot, and she’s failing. Again.

“What’s the plan?” Sylvain yells from his steed, blood trickling down his face from a wound on his forehead.

Byleth slashes down another white beast as she tries to come up with an answer. Not even Ashe and Lysithea have managed to get close enough to Rhea to attack. Dedue, who can usually withstand pretty much anything, was nearly killed in one single hit. There is no plan. There hasn’t been for quite some time.

Somewhere to her right, Edelgard gasps. “Look!”

Byleth turns around. Her eyes narrow as she stares at the horizon. A strange cloud is approaching from the east, and it’s moving fast.

“What is that?” Dimitri punches a church soldier in the face before piercing another one with his lance in one single movement. “More beasts?”

Byleth’s brain goes blank. They wouldn’t survive another wave of reinforcements. Her battalion withdrew ages ago. Mercedes is running out of healing spells. Felix, the one-man army, is surrounded, and he’s already tricked death more times than should have been statistically possible. Byleth has officially run out of strategies.

She squints at the horizon. Her heart skips a beat. She catches the glimpse of a banner, and it carries the colors of yellow and black.

“No,” she says, smiling. “It’s the King of Almyra.”

*

The master of unpredictability swoops in with an army of wyvern riders, and just like that, the tides turn. Eventually, Byleth stands before Rhea with the three young rulers by her side.

“You ungrateful piece of trash.” The Immaculate One’s eyes burn with manic hatred. “I gave you everything. You stole my mother from me. I will take her back!”

She lunges for Byleth, but her blow is blocked by a crimson shield.

“Your reign has ended, Rhea,” Edelgard says, her voice unwavering. “This battle marks the birth of a new world – a world where the strong will no longer prey on the weak.”

Dimitri rearranges his grip on Areadbhar, preparing to strike. “A world where people are allowed to choose their own beliefs.”

“A world where everyone, regardless of their heritage, can be free.” Claude draws his bow.

Edelgard gives the two kings an appreciative nod before turning back to Rhea. “A world,” she says as she raises Aymr, “where there’s no need for gods.”

*

The Immaculate One falls. One by one, the crest-bearing beasts drop to the ground as Seiros’ power leaves their bodies. Something cracks in Byleth’s chest. The Sword of the Creator slips from her hands, and then she’s falling too.

She knows what’s happening. She’s known from the beginning how her journey would end.

It was worth it, she thinks, and then the darkness claims her.

*

Byleth blinks. Her mind is blank. She tries to remember where she is, but her brain gives her nothing. She then tries to remember who she is, but she doesn’t seem to know that either.

“Professor.”

“Teach.”

“Teacher.”

The three names are called out all at once, and somehow, she knows they all belong to her. She blinks again and tries to focus on the three faces hovering above her. Blue eyes, green eyes, violet eyes, all staring down at her, sharing the same obvious relief. Her mind clicks. Everything falls back into place.

“I did it,” she whispers. “I finally did it.”

Dimitri scoops her up and hugs her to his chest with a desperation that makes her fear for the safety of her ribs.  

Edelgard smiles, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Voice trembling, Claude says, “I like the new hair.”

*

Once the Emperor has made sure that the governing of Fódlan will no longer be decided by bloodlines but by the will of the people, she hands over the crown to the unified nation’s first elected king. The former Prince of Faerghus becomes the King of Fódlan, and with the support of the King of Almyra, he opens up the continent’s borders to the rest of the world.

The power of turning back time is lost forever. The human who once wielded it feels no remorse.  

*

Byleth never stops cherishing the soft thuds of her beating heart.

[onebloodsoakedlion]

Abandoned!Conquest Ryoma in Fodlan - Part 2

The Black Eagles were a real enigma. The house was quite diverse in personality. And having a leader with rather strange ideals was just the cherry on top.

But one thing Ryoma noticed was that the Black Eagles had one less student than everyone else. While the Golden Deer and Blue Lions had eight students, the Black Eagles only had seven. Ryoma decided to query Edelgard on this matter. “Well, yes, we do have eight students. It’s just that one of them is too timid to show her face.” “Well, who is this elusive student?” “A small, purple-haired girl by the name of Bernadetta,” Edelgard replied, “But she’s such a recluse, I don’t think she wants to see you. She’d rather be left alone.” “Like hell, Edelgard,” Ryoma laughed back, “How do you know she’s not scared of me? Even the most skittish cats can find a human that they can warm up to.” “Okay then, if you insist, Ryoma,” Edelgard replied, pulling out a map, “This is Bernadetta’s room, where you’re most likely to find him. Good. Luck.”

Bernadetta, of course, was hiding in her bedroom, quietly writing. A loud, hard knock sent an electric shock through the poor girl, causing her to accidently mark the page. She turned to the door and let out a nervous “Who is it?” “It’s... um... well... someone from another world,” Ryoma struggled to get out, “If you’d been there when I first came here, you’d know all about me.” “What are you doing here,” Bernadetta exclaimed, “Have you come to kill me!?” “What!? No,” Ryoma replied, rather shocked, “Why would I do that? I’ve just come to your room because you were the missing Black Eagle. I wanted to see you too.” “Okay, well you’ve met me, now please leave,” Bernadetta replied. At this point Ryoma would’ve respected Bernadetta’s request and left. But he had seen her SOUL, scanned her variables... Her SOUL trait was Creativity, nothing new, But it was cracked, moreso than Dimitri’s. Ryoma had seen her Bio, and her “Dislikes” were pretty alarming. Speaking to people, imposing figures and overbearing fathers. Overbearing fathers!? Was she abused? Ryoma HAD to find out. “Oh I don’t think so,” Ryoma chuckled, “I’d like to really see you. To really get to know you. Just as I’ve been able to see and know everyone else.” “No, please,” Bernadetta cried out, rushing to lock the door, “You can’t do this! You can’t invade my room like this! Leave me alone!” Suddenly, the door seemed to unlocked itself. It swung open, to reveal Ryoma, who wiggled his index finger in front of her, which seemed to have a beast’s claw attached to it. “I see you’ve noticed my little claw. These tiny daggers are useful for so many different things, especially lockpicking. They even make decent weapons, but I don’t feel like using them on you...” Bernadetta couldn’t even scream at the Hoshidan King. She shook like a leaf, sweating and pale, “Please don’t hurt me...” she barely manage to squeak out before falling to the floor. “Oh shit...” Ryoma sighed to himself, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a cat faint in fear like that before...”

Bernadetta found herself lying on her bed. But something wasn’t quite right. She felt... something... pressing up and down on her abdomen. She looked up to find a rather large cat, covered in red fur and with a mane of brown hair not to dissimilar to Ryoma’s, purring loudly whilst kneading her belly. She nervously reached out to pat the feline on the head. He responded by looking up at her and saying “Oh, you’re awake.” “What,” Bernadetta screamed, “You’re sound like that man... who came into my room.” “I am him,” Ryoma replied, “You fainted when I was talking about my claws, so I put you on your bed and turned into a cat so I could calm you down. Turns out it was a good idea since you like animals so much.” “Why are you here,” Bernadetta groaned. “At first,” Ryoma replied, “I just wanted to know you. But now, after witnessing how timid you are, I think you need some help. Emotional help. I’ve never seen a human, or even a cat, this timid before. What you need, is someone to hang around and keep you safe, like a guardian of sorts. And what better guardian for you than a cat that rubs himself against your legs and purrs in the most insistent manner?” He burrowed his head into the girl’s chest and continued to purr. Bernadetta could only continue to pat the polymorphic creature. His fur was oddly soft...

“Hello there, Bernadetta,” Hubert said in his usual, monotone voice. “AAAAH,” Bernadetta screamed, “OH GODS! THERE’S A MONSTER! IT’S COME TO KILL ME!” Ryoma pushed himself inbetween Bernadetta and the creepy Hubert, arched his back, puffed out his tail and let out a loud, sharp hiss. “The hell is WRONG with you,” Ryoma yowled, “Bernadetta has a problem! Don’t sneak up on her like some sort of shadow monster!” “Ryoma, is that you,” Hubert replied with a chuckle, “What happened to you.” Ryoma’s tail swished from side to side, “I turned myself into a cat. So what? Give Bernadetta some space.” He turned around and rubbed against the girl’s legs and brushed her hand with his tail. He turned to the creepy man of little childrens’ nightmares, “Look, I don’t know why she’s like this, but I’m gonna have to get to the bottom of it. Now leave her be.” Shocked, Hubert had no choice but to back off.

Ryoma would accompany Bernadetta in feline form whenever she had to leave her room. It got so time-consuming that Ryoma had to time travel in order to meet any of the others. But within weeks he could sense improvement within the girl. Sometimes, when Ryoma was parked up in her room, he would hear her talking to herself about her father. In fact, Ryoma had read one of her stories about her father while she was asleep. The one Ryoma found was a horror story about a little girl whose father was secretly an ancient demon, who, after giving birth to her, wanted to warp and twist her soul, so that when she was married off, she would curse her husband, take his soul, and give it to the demon. Ryoma was so disgusted, he decided something had to be done.

It was now the school holidays, and by now Bernadetta had warmed up to Ryoma enough for him to remain in human form, which had made her look up to him as a guardian angel of sorts. Ryoma had decided that today was the best day to sort things out. “I feel like taking us on an adventure,” Ryoma blurted out, trying to think, “I wanna let you see the things that you’ve missed out on, cooped up in your room like that.” “A-Are you sure that’s a good idea,” Bernadetta stammered, “I’ve never been outside the monastery for a while, outside of the occasional battle...” “I’ll protect you,” Ryoma reassured the child, “You should know that by now. And we’re not just gonna walk there, we’ll teleport!”

Ryoma took Bernadetta through numerous areas of Fodlan, and even out of Fodlan, including Nohr and Hoshido in his own timeline. Bernadetta was quite frightened by the unfamilliar sights at first, but eventually came to enjoy the experience. Ryoma was hoping that this would prepare her mentally for the confrontation that lay ahead.

“Wow, I can’t believe that all this exists! I need to go outside more often!” “Well yes,” Ryoma replied, “And we have just one more place to visit! You ready?” “Okay,” Bernadetta affirmed as Ryoma opened the portal. And she got quite a shock, as she stood in front of an all too familiar mansion. “Oh no. Why did you bring me here! WHY HERE!?” “Bernadetta, I’ve heard some... stories... about your father. You know how I said I would protect you? Well, I wanna do something to help you in the long run. And that means giving your worst nightmare a real talking-to.” Bernadetta cowered and backed off, “Well you do that then! I’m staying right here!” Ryoma grabbed her hand, carefully but firmly, “Don’t you want to see me slay the beast? What if you have something to say to it? Some last words to your nightmares before they are finally dispelled?” Bernadetta reluctantly agreed. Ryoma knocked on the doors, while Bernadetta hid in his mane. A middle-aged man appeared, with purple hair similar to his daughter, with an odd resembelance to one of the most evil people in the Puppeteers’ world, one who was rumoured to have killed many people - most of whom were from a group referred to as the “Jews”. And despite Ryoma being a whole head taller than this man, he seemed to be looking down on the Hoshidan King. “Who are you and what do you want?” “I am a member of the Garreg Mach staff,” Ryoma took a breath and calmly replied, “I have come to discuss a few matters regarding your daughter.” Count Varley was rather suspicious, but let Ryoma in anyway, completely unaware of the second person he had brought with him.

“What concerns do you have with my daughter” the man asked in a stone-cold voice. Ryoma’s sharp, feline ears picked up his muttering, “That good-for-nothing bitch...” “Excuse me,” Ryoma asked, barely able to believe even his powerful ears. He hoped his mind was playing tricks on him. “I said, what concerns do you have with my daughter,” the Count asked again, slightly irritated. “Well,” Ryoma began, “We’ve heard... some rumours going around, that you have abused your daughter. Is that true?” “Why I would never,” he angrily exclaimed, “Bernadetta must be telling lies! She’s always trying to get me into trouble, that naughty, impudend, unmarriageable wretch!” Bernadetta began to sob from behind Ryoma’s mane, catching Varley’s attention. “You... brought her with you?” Ryoma, coming up with another idea, drew the Rajinto, pulled Bernadetta out, and held her at katana-point, “Yes, I did. Now tell me the truth! Or she dies.” Bernadetta felt so utterly betrayed, she started sobbing. But Count Varley stood his ground, “You stupid buffoon! You’re just trying to bring down my good name!” And with that, Ryoma thrust his sword... into his left hand, “What!? You’d rather let your own daughter die than admit to hurting her!? What sort of heartless man are you!?” The blood from his hand did not fall to the ground, but instead bled into the blade of Rajinto, which reacted by delivering a small electrical pulse to the bleeding palm, cauterising the wound shut. And with that, the samurai released Bernadetta and sheathed his sword, before putting a hand on Bernadetta’s shoulder and whispering “Just kidding” into her ear, before lunging on the man and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. “You have already proven to me, within five minutes, how much of an asshole you are, Count Varely,” Ryoma roared, “If you were TRULY innocent, you would be falsely confessing to abusing her and begging me to leave her alone! But no, you’d rather let her die to preserve your own name. How selfish of you. So... I have an offer you can’t refuse - confess to everything you’ve done to your daughter Bernadetta and tell me why. If you do, I’ll convince Lady Rhea to offer you special protection... If you don’t, I’ll beat you to death with my own bare hands, trash your legacy and smear your good name. And I WILL know if you lie to me... I can see it in your SOUL.” “Okay, fine,” the Count sighed, “Ever since I discovered that Bernadetta had a Crest... I decided that she would make a good wife for a rich husband, so I decided to train her from a young age with chores and whatnot.” “Bullshit,” Ryoma growled, tightening his grip around the Count’s neck and delivering an electrical shock down his spine.

Despite Ryoma’s methods of interrogation, Count Varley continued to hide the details. Ryoma could tell he was hiding something and in response, got more harsh in his threats. He threatened torture, he even dealt a blow or two until Count Varley finally realised that resistance was pointless. He confessed to everything, how he only saw Bernadetta as bait for a rich husband, how he tied her to a chair for hours to get her to be quiet. How he prevented her from having any friends, especially with commoners, how he scorned and mocked her when he felt she wasn’t good enough, how he even paid someone to beat the shit out of a little boy who Bernadetta had befriended, and that above all, his hopes were for Bernadetta to marry a filthy rich man so that HE would get some of the money. It was enough. Ryoma had heard everything. And he was pissed. “My GODS,” Ryoma exclaimed, “You tortured your daughter, all this time, JUST SO YOU COULD GET MONEY!?” He saw a vision of Shura, from a Birthright timeline. He had attacked the army of this timeline’s Corrin, Jozlyn, and tried to still Ryoma’s sword so he could sell it. He saw himself being incredibly pissed at Shura, saying he wanted to bury the pathetic little fucker in coin until he suffocated from all the gold. Though thankfully, Shura only wanted to survive and rebuild his town, and would’ve used the infinite money to do so, if it had been given to him. Shura knew his stuff - money would buy builders and building materials, and that would rebuild his homeland. But Count Varley was none of that. He didn’t have much need for money. He was already well-off, with a rather decent mansion that was well-dressed with luxurious-lookinh furniture and in near-pristine condition. Nothing said that Count Varley had some charitable cause or worthwhile project that needed any monetary funds. “Gods-fucking-damn,” Ryoma growled, shaking the man, “You are the most fucking selfish excuse for a person I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting. You remember that deal I made? Well I take that back, because you are such a fucking asshole. I know what you’re feeling. You’re just sorry for youself. You don’t even want to make up for what you’ve done. You are beyond redemption.” Ryoma seemed to slap the bastard’s dumb face. It seemed like a weak move at first, until bright red lines appeared on the Count’s face mere seconds later. With claws unsheathed, tail puffed up and ears back, Ryoma let loose on Bernadetta’s abusive asshole of a father with a piercing yowl, using fists and claws interchangeably. A moment later, he suddenly stopped, letting the Count go, who ended up on his hands and knees, looking in fear at Ryoma. Who turned his head towards Bernadetta. “Would you like to... join in?” Bernadetta shook her head, too scared to move. “I promise you, it will be very satisfying.” Bernadetta looked at Ryoma, then at her “father”. “I wonder, does it feel better taking down your worst enemy yourself... or having someone else do it for you? Would you like to help me answer that question.” It was encouragement enough. Bernadetta reluctantly stepped forward, glaring at her father, then laid into him. She seemed weak at first, throwing meek little punches, which seemed like such a joke that the man slapped her in the face. The pain in her cheek and the spiteful glare in his face seemed to spark some resolve in Bernadetta. She tried again, this time, harder and with deliberate effort. She punched him in the nose, emitting a loud crackle as blood sprayed out. As he held his face in pain, she lowered herself to his level before delivering a sharp blow to the ribs, with a tight fist that had the middle finger slightly out. He was struggling to breathe and fell to his side, only to get a sharp kick in the stomach, and then the groin. He groaned in pain and rolled onto his back as she put her hands together and drove her elbow into his chest, before releasing a flurry of kicks to his side, making him roll over once again, onto his stomach, trying to shield himself from her furious kicks. He looked up at her just in time to see her holding her right fist in the air above her head with her left hand, before bringing it down upon his stupid, selfish head. He fell to his side. “Bernadetta - ” was all he managed to get out, before she kicked him once again in the stomach, forcing him onto his back, before kneeling down on him and releasing one final flurry of punches, as hard and fast as she could, until his brains spewed from his skull and his face was no longer recognisable.

Bernadatta pulled herself to her feet, staring at the body of her “father”, panting hard. “You done yet,” Ryoma asked. She nodded, and they walked out. She took one look behind her, and then stared at her bloodied hands. “Look, I dunno whether what we did was right,” Ryoma sighed, realising how much he had let his anger get to him, “But all I know is that pile of shit had it coming...” he looked at Bernadetta, “...and you’re free now. You no longer have to worry about him. He cannot hurt you anymore. You have displayed great courage by letting me help you confront him, and if anyone tries to hurt you, or your friends, you can do to them what you did to him.”

Bernadetta was still rather skittish, but she had been outside her room a lot more, and was definitely making attempts to interact with others. Ryoma had confessed to killing Count Varley, but was able to explain the truth using SOUL data as evidence. He ended up being slapped hard in the face for not letting Bernadetta have her revenge, only for it to be taken back when he admitted her part in the killing. But what satisfied Ryoma the most was seeing Bernadetta make an effort to move on and be the girl she would’ve been if not for the abuse she’d suffered. And Ryoma had realised... He had fixed someone. Not physically, but mentally, just as his sister and therapist FrostFire had done for him. And that was far more satisfying than killing Count Varely.

[nicolewrites]

i apologize for my divinity (it is never enough) - iii

this ride don’t stop till i say it does. here’s part 3 and it’s even wordier than part ii so you’re welcome? 

Rating: T+ Genre: Angst, Friendship, Family Characters: Byleth/My Unit, Claude R., Dimitri B., Sothis, the Golden Deer Words: 7,958

AO3 | FFN

pt. i | pt. ii

iii - white clouds, redux

- ~ -

/ great tree moon /

If Byleth swings her sword a little quicker now, Jeralt doesn't notice. Cutting through the bandits is achingly familiar, but she feels weak. Her muscles are looser and not as practiced and the skill of her students is lacking as well. Byleth finds herself fighting close to Dimitri's side out of habit, but it feels wrong somehow to see him as he used to be–whole and unbroken.

There's a terrible, dark moment when she sees the leader of the bandits lunge at Edelgard. She wonders, what if I don't save her? What happens then? Her feet are anchored into the ground as her mind deliberates.

The answer is not one she likes. Both Claude and Dimitri lunge forward to protect the Imperial Princess in her stead. Dimitri takes the axe across the back and his lance dips and plunges into Claude's stomach as the Alliance Heir shoves Edelgard away. Byleth doesn't wait for their bodies to hit the ground before she's whipping time backwards.

"As to be expected," Sothis says. "We'll have to change things later on."

Byleth drives her blade up and protects Edelgard. She escorts the students back to the monastery, alongside her father, Alois and the Knights of Seiros. The familiarity of everything hurts and Byleth can't help but feel that she's trudging an endlessly repeating path to a mass grave.

As Garreg Mach looms above before them, Byleth can feel the unease rolling off of her father. Alois seems excited, as always, but Byleth keeps her mouth pressed quietly into a firm line. She watches Dimitri and the other exchange barbs. There's a lightness about him here, in this moment, that she aches to feel, but now that she looks at him all she can see is the hunched shoulders and incredible pain of the Dimitri he may become five years from now.

Edelgard's posture is stiff, but it's not yet the posture of the emperor she may become. Her lips still quirk at something Claude says which tells Byleth that she has time. Now that she's looking closely, she easily picks out the sheath of Dimitri's dagger at her hip. If it mysteriously disappeared, would it fix anything?

Claude, on the other hand, is still just Claude. His green eyes are playful and allude to the cleverness that hides just beneath the surface. To her surprise, however, Claude keeps stealing glances at her. When he studies her when he thinks she's not watching, his brow furrows just a bit and Byleth sees the analytic part of her student as he tries to dissect her with his gaze alone.

Later, after Alois drags Jeralt off for a drink and Byleth is left standing in the entrance hall with the three house leaders, Dimitri and Edelgard excuse themselves to find the rest of their houses. Claude lingers.

"This is going to sound a bit crazy," he says slowly. "But, have we met before?"

Byleth feels surprise ripple across her face because of course they have met before, but there is no way that Claude has any memory of it because that timeline was destroyed the moment she broke that thread.

Sothis? she inquires cautiously.

"Hmm, how peculiar," the goddess muses in Byleth's head. "He certainly has no real memory of you, but perhaps this is something deeper at work."

"No," Byleth articulates finally. "I've always been with my father and I've never left Fódlan."

Claude shakes his head briefly and gives her one of his signature trouble-maker smiles. "Of course, how silly of me to assume otherwise."

He leaves then and Byleth watches him go, a warm curiosity blossoming in her chest. Maybe, she ponders.

"Indeed," Sothis agrees.

- ~ -

The second time, she succumbs to her wonderings about Claude, Alliance Heir.

- ~ -

/ harpstring moon /

The Golden Deer have a kind of unrestrained chaos that was absent through her time with the Blue Lions. Sothis finds it funny as she struggles to rein in Claude and Hilda and to connect to the quiet Ignatz and Marianne.

Leonie seems to have a grudge against Byleth that can only be attributed to both of their relationships with Jeralt. Lorenz seems to have a mild enough interest in her, but she remembers that it is simply due to her Crest-bearing nature, even if no one here knows she has the Crest of Flames yet. Raphael is bright and optimistic and seems interested in her strength on the battlefield and her appetite in the dining hall.

Ignatz is quieter, but she catches him studying her many times as she lectures. Byleth hides her smile and lets him doodle her portrait. He has a great talent. Marianne is back to the quiet, self-hating girl Byleth remembers from before the war and she does everything she can to try to boost the girl's spirits. Lysithea is all sharp edges and defensiveness. She continues to work herself to the bone and Byleth brings her sweet treats and soothing tea to absolve the girl of some of her stress. Its origin is unknown to her, but she refuses to let any student of hers crumble under the pressure.

Hilda is both infuriating and entertaining to watch. She's a beast on the battlefield, cutting down her foes precisely and powerfully. But, she plays herself off as a dainty flower, batting her eyelashes and showering her fellow students in compliments until they do her dirty work. Byleth just rolls her eyes and presses Hilda for answers in class until she inevitably gives up the act and gives the answer that she's looking for.

Claude seems to find everything Byleth does funny. He sits in the middle of the classroom, close enough that she knows he takes notes in his elegantly messy scrawl, but he watches her all through class and combat training and even over shared meals like he's trying to break her down slowly. He has a calm, casual smirk on at almost all times, but it never seems to soften the sharp judgement of his green eyes.

In the time she has been here, Claude has not given up on his theory that he has met Byleth before and she would be lying if she said she wasn't a little bit worried about that fact. Claude is disastrously clever and the last thing she needs is a distraction from the reason that she's here–to fix things. Sothis finds him funny and takes every occasion to tell Byleth so.

Byleth ignores her for the most part, but when Claude gives her a more genuine smile it warms her right to the core and she has to turn away to hide the growing smile on her own face.

- ~ -

/ garland moon /

Facing off against Lonato feels strange without Ashe. Byleth has made a habit of checking in on her Blue Lions students pretty regularly and trying to forge connections with them even as she leads the Deer. She finds him in the cathedral the night after Lonato's death against and this time she sits with him and holds out her hand.

Ashe takes it without a word and squeezes it so tightly that it stings. After a while, his grip loosens, but his head hangs and he doesn't let her go. He doesn't seem to understand Byleth's investment in the situation, but he says nothing to her. When he finally leaves in the early hours of the morning, Byleth lingers, staring up at the statue of Saint Seiros.

Is any of this pain worth it? she asks silently.

"Is any of it preventable?" Sothis inquires back.

Byleth frowns. I don't think so.

"Then we must keep going," the goddess says.

Byleth nods and turns to leave. Claude is standing in the entranceway of the cathedral, staring at her and she stumbles when she sees him.

"Good morning, Teach," he says casually.

Byleth folds her arms as she approaches her student. "What are you doing awake?"

Claude shrugs. "I was going to do some aerial patrols and I saw you and Ashe. What's your deal with the Blue Lions, anyway?"

Byleth presses her lips together. "They're good kids. You all are. I'm just trying to make sure that everyone gets their fair share of time with me. I do teach everyone even if I'm leading the Golden Deer."

Claude steps forward, tipping his head to the side like a cat. The sharpness of his eyes glitters in the dim light of the cathedral. "And these good kids must include Edelgard and Hubert, right? And that's why you refused to correct Edelgard's axe grip even if you spent almost an hour trying to get Hilda to admit she already knew it."

"This child is too observant for his own good," Sothis grumbles.

Byleth steels herself and tries to present the neutral expression that had been second nature to her when she had been the Ashen Demon. "Shouldn't you be glad I'm not increasing the skills of another House Leader as much as I am with someone in your own house?"

Claude recognizes her deflection and gives her a slightly cheeky smile. "I am going to figure you out, Teach, you can mark my words." He winks and turns to leave, the yellow of his cape fluttering with the movement.

Something deep inside Byleth aches for a familiar blue cloak and the quiet stolen moments she shared with Dimitri in another life. She frowns as she watches Claude leave. He whistles for a wyvern as he's partway across the bridge connecting the monastery proper to the cathedral. He flies away on the beast like it's second nature to him and Byleth shifts uncomfortably.

Sothis is right. Claude is entirely too clever and observant for his own good. She needs to try harder.

- ~ -

/ blue sea moon /

Byleth has tea with Ferdinand and Lorenz one afternoon and smiles at the bottom of her cup as the two nobles chat about frugal things. It's a conversation that she's sat through before, but it's nice to see a lighter, genuine side to both of the students.

"Have you ever thought about changing houses, Ferdinand?" she asks before she can stop herself.

Ferdinand's teacup pauses halfway to his mouth. He cocks an eyebrow at her. "To the Golden Deer?"

Byleth shrugs. "Or to the Blue Lions."

Ferdinand muses over it for a moment. "It's an interesting proposition, Professor, and if my loyalties didn't lie so heavily in the Empire, I might consider it more."

Lorenz chuckles. "Well, we did win the mock battle so I can't blame you for wanting to join the clearly superior house."

Byleth laughs lightly at Lorenz's words, but the depth of Ferdinand's words draw her the image of the young man so corrupted by loyalty he died for a ruler who had no particular care for him. She bites into her lip and hides her displeasure behind her teacup.

They're sharing tea in Byleth's quarters upon Lorenz's suggestion and as she looks past her two guests, she spots Dimitri strolling by. She stands up before she even realizes what she's doing. She pauses, looking down at her students and smiling.

"Excuse me for a moment, I just need to grab Dimitri for a moment."

She slips out of the room before either noble heir can protest and sees that luckily Dimitri hasn't gone too far.

"Dimitri!" she calls out.

The Blue Lions Leader turns and smiles upon seeing her. "Professor, what a pleasant surprise!"

She smiles back at him. "Would you like to join us for some tea? Lorenz and Ferdinand had just stopped by and I thought you might want to sit down with us."

Dimitri's smile dips a little and he glances to his right to the Training Hall. "Ah, I would, but I had promised to train with Ingrid and Sylvain."

Byleth steps back. "I won't keep you then."

Dimitri looks back towards the Training Hall and hesitates. "But, if you'd like to join us after you finish with tea, I'm sure we would all appreciate your guidance."

Byleth raises her eyebrow. "Lances and spears are definitely not my strength so I'm sure you're all more adept than I would be." She presses him curiously, interested to see how he responds.

"But you're a strong fighter so you could figure it out, or you could use a sword and just absolutely destroy us either way," Dimitri points out.

Byleth chuckles. "I suppose I could." She glances past Dimitri to see Claude exiting the Training Hall and she consciously steps back, suddenly hyper-aware of the space between her and Dimitri.

Claude beelines towards them and slings an arm around Dimitri's shoulders, smirking. "Hello Dimitri, Teach," he greets.

Dimitri tenses at Claude's touch, but relaxes once the Alliance heir starts speaking. "Hello Claude," Dimitri greets coolly.

Byleth notes that the tension isn't completely gone from the prince's shoulders. He's definitely not as comfortable with Claude as he feels around just Byleth. She presses her lips together and turns her attention to Claude.

"Would you like to join Lorenz, Ferdinand and myself for tea, Claude?" she invites politely.

Claude winks at her. "I'd be honoured. I'll see you around then Dimitri." Claude lets Dimitri go and brushes past them both towards Byleth's quarters.

Byleth hesitates for a moment before following after Claude. "I'll see you for training later then," she says as a way of goodbye to Dimitri.

He smiles and warmth curls in Byleth's chest. He's not lost to her yet.

- ~ -

Much later, the Sword of the Creator hums in her grip. It's warm to the touch and familiar, but the way that the Golden Deer eye her with awe and surprise is a bit off-putting. She cracks the sword against the stone and cuts down the Church rebels without much further thought. There's no time for her to consult the familiarity coursing through her veins.

She focuses on the fight, not stopping until her breathing is the only thing she can hear. Her chest is tight and she's tired, but she is alive and her Fawns are alive and they're stronger than they used to be. They have gotten used to following her commands and execute them almost flawlessly.

Pride wells in her chest as she examines the path her students have carved. There is loss there too, for the time she has tackled this same set-up with the Blue Lions, but she refocuses on the moment. Her Deer have become important to her too, just like she intended.

"Professor!" Hilda calls.

Byleth turns and sees Hilda striding toward her. Claude is limping along behind her, his eyes fixated on the sword clutched in her hand. Byleth slides it into a loop on her belt and descends the dais towards them.

"Who's hurt?" Byleth asks Hilda.

Hilda shakes her head. "No one seriously," she replies, still staring at Byleth. "What is that?"

"It's the Sword of the Creator," Claude answers. His brow is cocked curiously. Despite whatever reason he is limping for, he doesn't seem to care, focusing entirely on the unique relic Byleth holds. "Isn't it?"

Byleth nods slowly. "Yes, I think so."

Claude shakes his head. He is obviously still suspicious, but his relief at the end of the battle seems to dominate his current consciousness. "I think you're going to have to explain some things to Rhea, Teach."

"Explain to Rhea?" Sothis scoffs. "More like she has some things to tell us."

Byleth shrugs both for Claude and Hilda and the goddess in her head. "I'm hoping she'll be able to answer some of my questions, actually."

- ~ -

/ verdant rain moon /

The black beast that Miklan turns into is no less unnerving this time than it was last time. It roars and charges her students and Byleth doesn't have time to be distracted. It seems to have a personal grudge against Ignatz as it pursues her archer even as he retreats.

Byleth doesn't have time to get to his side before it's atop him–jaws tearing at his throat his chest–and then she's calling on her Divine Pulse and praying desperately she can prevent that future from coming to fruition. For a terrifying moment, Byleth hears the beast's cries echo across the stones mixed with the terror of her students, and then her gut lurches and time winds backwards.

She instructs Ignatz to stay back this time and the beast focuses on her instead. She faces it down, clutching the sword so tightly that her palm burns from its constant heat. She slashes at it, Lysithea blasts it with her dark magic, and Marianne's white magic keeps her on her feet long enough to take it down.

Ignatz approaches her after, holding out a Vulnerary. "Professor," he says, brow creased. "How did you know to keep Claude, Leonie, and I out of its line of sight? We would have been done if that thing had gotten in close range."

Byleth downs the healing drought and smiles warily at her student. "I have a feeling that that thing was still clever enough to see an advantage where it could take it."

Ignatz studies her face for a long moment and Byleth hopes he can't read the lie on her face. After a moment, he nods and turns away. Byleth exhales and rubs her shoulder. The vulnerary has helped some, but she's still aching.

Better me than them, she thinks determinedly.

"They're different from the others," Sothis notes quietly.

Byleth considers the statement, watching as they clear the ruins of the bodies of the thieves, helping each other and passing around healing items to those who need them. Lysithea and Marianne focus on magic while Raphael and Hilda do much of the heavy lifting. They know their strengths and play to them.

I think I love them too, Byleth admits.

Sothis laughs and it warms Byleth where her heart should be. "I know you do."

- ~ -

At the monastery, as soon as Manuela lets her out of the infirmary, Byleth looks for Ingrid and Felix. They're chatting quietly in the Knight's Hall and look surprised to see her.

"Professor!" Ingrid exclaims, straightening her spine as Byleth approaches. "Weren't you hurt?"

Byleth waves off the concern. "Nevermind that." Felix eyes her slightly suspiciously and Byleth takes a deep breath. "I can talk to Hanneman for you," she offers.

Ingrid looks surprised, but Felix keeps his face strategically neutral. "Why?" he asks bluntly.

Byleth smiles sadly. "Because I know Sylvain is hurting and I want to help."

Ingrid frowns. "You don't have to do that."

"You'll do it even if we tell you not to though," Felix discerns, studying her face.

Byleth nods. "I will. I wish I could have stopped it."

"Did he really turn into a beast?" Ingrid asks quietly.

"I wish I could tell you otherwise," Byleth says slowly.

Felix turns away, staring at a training dummy in the sandpit instead. "And now Rhea wants Sylvain to take that relic, doesn't she?"

"He's safe to use it," Byleth assures, but Felix turns his flint sharp gaze back to her quickly.

"And you're sure about that?"

No, Byleth thinks desperately. I don't know if having the relics brings more pain than it's worth, but I'd so much rather it be in his hands than the hands of the church.

"Yes," she says instead.

Felix looks frustrated, but Ingrid nods. "We'll talk to Sylvain," she says finally.

"I wish you didn't have to," Byleth adds before she turns to leave. I wish I could absolve you all of your pain and your burdens.

- ~ -

/ horsebow moon /

Byleth feels the burn of the poison in her veins as soon as the Death Knight's scythe cuts into her. The familiar burn triggers something in her and she drops to her knees as pain turns her vision white.

"Professor!" Lorenz yells. He's the closest to her so he pulls her to her feet and studies her face intensely, trying to see why she collapsed.

Byleth drops the Sword of the Creator and breathes slowly as her vision comes back to her. The pain isn't even that bad yet, but the memory of it seems to have shocked her body to the extreme. "Get Claude," she orders strictly.

She stumbles against him and Lorenz whips his head around. "Raphael!" he yells. "Get Flayn and Monica out of here. Leonie, find Claude. The professor needs help."

Byleth feels a spark of admiration for the leadership traits Lorenz has, even if he buries them under layers of noble snobbery most times. Marianne hurries over to them and her white magic tingles as it heals most of Byleth's wounds. She says something softly to Lorenz that Byleth doesn't catch, but Lorenz shakes his head in response.

Another pulse of fire burns from the wound and Byleth grimaces. She steps away from Lorenz and looks around the crypt. The strange soldiers are gone now, including the Death Knight, but their presence makes Byleth's skin crawl. Those soldiers had been Edelgard's last time and the insignias they bear this time are the same.

Am I too late? Did I not do enough?

Sothis doesn't reply and anger prickles along her skin. She has torn apart her future to come back to try and stop the war and to save her students and she isn't sure that she can handle losing them again.

"Teach!" Claude yells. Leonie and Claude are rushing towards them. There's a smear of red across Claude's cloak from where he had dammed Manuela's wound. He looks wild and shaken, but relief blossoms across his features as he realizes Byleth is still standing.

His hands land on her biceps as he reaches her, looking her up and down. "What's wrong, Teach?"

Poison pulses through her veins. She grimaces and grips Claude's hand in her own. She slides it towards the wound. His hand is warm against her even through her shirt. The blood seems to concern him, but he's sharp and knows that's not what is actually bothering her.

"Leonie, give me your hunting knife," he instructs.

He cuts away the fabric where it sticks to her skin and curses as he uncovers the wound. Leonie, behind him, blanches at the sight of the blackened veins. "What the hell?" she exclaims.

Claude touches the wound and fire burns through Byleth. She cries out unintentionally. Claude hisses an apology and fumbles for the pouch of poisons and antidotes on his belt. He pulls out the familiar clear vial. Byleth doesn't hesitate, downing the antidote without waiting for him to say anything.

Most of the pain fades, but the wound still aches dully. Claude slides an arm around her waist. "Come on, Teach, let's get you to the infirmary."

Even with Claude's support, Byleth stumbles her way out of the crypt. Her exhaustion seems to have caught up with her and the lingering effect of the poison amplifies it. She leans her head against his shoulder as they emerge from the tunnel in Jeritza's room and breathes slowly, trying to centre herself.

"Kid?"

That voice makes her look up sharply. Jeralt and a contingent of knights have just entered the room and her father's worried gaze is fixed directly onto her. She straightens up a bit, trying to look less like she's relying on Claude to keep her upright.

"I'm okay," she assures.

Claude snorts out a laugh. "The Death Knight's blade was poisoned," he informs. "I got it out of her system, but she needs rest, not whatever the hell Rhea is going to try to have her do."

Jeralt's brow furrows. "I'll worry about Rhea." He walks forward and presses a firm, warm kiss to Byleth's forehead. The display of affection is unusual for Jeralt, but she knows the meaning he places behind it. "Get her to the infirmary," he says to Claude.

Byleth wants to ask him to stay, to take her himself, but he's a captain and he has a job to do. She bites her tongue as he walks by her even if every bone in her body wants him to stay or to leave and get as far away from the monastery as possible. The selfish shadow in her chest tells her that she's not sure she can go through losing him again.

"Teach?" Claude inquires. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Byleth inhales deeply and tears her eyes from where her father had disappeared to. "Yes, I'm just tired."

"Why are you still lying to him?" Sothis asks suddenly.

Claude steps forward to assist her again and Byleth realizes that she doesn't have a good answer to that question.

- ~ -

/ wyvern moon /

This time, Claude once again backs her participation in the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion. Dimitri and Edelgard had protested, as expected, but Byleth studies their expressions as they each present their argument. Dimitri still seems concerned about her well-being, but Edelgard has something cooler and tenser in her expression. It is disconcertingly reminiscent of the expression she had held in the Holy Mausoleum.

Between Claude's scheming and Byleth's tactics, their battle plan comes together smoothly and even more efficient than it had been when she had fought this fight with the Blue Lions. Ignatz and Leonie share the responsibility of the ballista and the defence of it. Lysithea, Marianne, and Lorenz easily sweep through Felix, Ingrid, Dedue, and Sylvain due to their lack of ranged attacks. Byleth, Raphael, Hilda, and Claude take on the Eagles and the whole thing topples with remarkable efficiency.

After the battle, Byleth's standing with Claude atop the hill when Dimitri and Edelgard approach.

"Professor, that was a remarkable strategy," Dimitri compliments. "It's like you knew my every move before I could make it."

Edelgard inclines her chin. "Almost as if you knew what it would be, really," she adds. There's an undertone of suspicion in her tone and Byleth frowns.

Thankfully, Claude, despite his notable previous suspicions, laughs. "Come on then, where's my compliment? I am an equal contributor to this strategy," he argues.

Byleth smiles. "He's right about that," she points out.

Edelgard rolls her eyes. "Your schemes hardly count as a concrete battle plan, Claude."

Dimitri's attention stays fixed on Byleth. "It did all feel familiar," he says to her quietly. "But, strange, nonetheless. Almost like you should have been fighting with me instead of against me."

Byleth laughs weakly. "Strange," she echoes.

Dimitri shakes his head and holds a hand out. His palm is warm against hers as she shakes his hand. "A battle well fought," he concedes.

- ~ -

/ red wolf moon /

The Golden Deer are equally as disturbed as the Blue Lions were after the battle in Remire Village. Lysithea and Ignatz, in particular, seem concerned with Solon and the fact that he had been disguised as Tomas.

Byleth had been heading back to the Golden Deer classroom when she heard mention that Tomas had been at the monastery by recommendation of House Ordelia. The admission had caught her off-guard so she redoubled her pace to the classroom, wanting to talk to Lysithea again.

Unfortunately, Tomas's connection to House Ordelia is as concerning to Lysithea as it is to Byleth. Her youngest student has three different historical texts in front of her and her eyes have dark circles underneath them. Byleth reaches over and closes the book in front of her. Lysithea turns a burning gaze to her, displeased and Byleth shakes her head.

"Get some rest. The situation won't change much by morning, and we need everyone to be at their best for the future," she says to her student.

Lysithea's shoulders hunch. "I know," she admits slowly. "I just," she trails off, looking frustrated and vulnerable.

"It's not your fault," Byleth says. "Don't ever think that this is your fault."

Without another word, Lysithea twists in her seat and tucks her arms around Byleth's waist. Byleth tenses for a moment before she lowers her hands to reassuringly touch her student's shoulders. Lysithea is stubborn and her refusal to be seen as young means that she builds so many walls to hide her emotions behind. Seeing her scared and vulnerable like this is almost reassuring because it shows Byleth that she's feeling and that she's connecting with people.

The quiet contact between professor and student seems to reassure her and Lysithea pulls away after a lingering moment. She wipes at her eyes and stands up from the table. She looks exhausted, but her shoulders are square as she announces her plan to head to her room and take a nap.

Byleth shifts uncomfortably as she leaves. She can still hear the cries of people in Remire Village in the back of her mind and she's afraid of what it will mean for the next month.

- ~ -

/ ethereal moon /

The ball is suffocating. She wants to smile and enjoy herself like she did last time–to dance with Dimitri and to spin in silly circles with Claude since neither of them actually know how to dance properly–but the air in the room feels stale and it burns when she breathes.

Byleth ducks out and heads to the goddess tower, hoping that it's empty. The height and quietness of it call to her. She keeps her hands pressed against the stone as she climbs to ground herself. Her head feels like it's spinning as she climbs and her breathing is shallow.

She reaches the top and staggers to the balcony on the edge. She curls her fingers into the stone railing and breathes. The air is cool and it stings, but she's finally able to feel like she's breathing again. She doesn't feel like she's going to collapse anymore.

She stands alone at the top of the tower for a long minute, eyes closed and breathing slowly. There are soft footsteps behind her and she prays for a moment they'll leave so that she can be alone, but not even she is that lucky.

"Teach?"

Byleth turns to face Claude. He is standing just at the top of the stairs and he looks concerned. She bites her lip and turns her gaze back to the window she had been looking out. She can't look at Claude. Like Sothis has said, he is very observant and too good at reading her expressions even when she doesn't want him too.

He apparently either doesn't realize that she wants to be alone, or doesn't care, because she hears him walk over until she can feel the warmth from him radiating into her space. "Are you going to tell me why you ran away from the ball?"

Byleth swallows. "I'm worried about tomorrow," she admits.

Claude raises an eyebrow. "Really?"

Byleth rubs at her temples. "It's not going to go like we think it will."

"You sound sure," he points out.

Byleth bites her lip. She's tired. She's so tired of living the same days and losing people and watching the world fall down the same spiral that led to 5 years of brutal war. She really doesn't want to do this anymore.

Claude contemplates something when she doesn't reply and she feels, more than sees, him shift in her periphery. "Teach, what are you so scared of happening tomorrow?"

Something in Byleth breaks and she leans forward onto her hands, pressing her forehead against the stone. "I'm running in circles and nothing will stop any of this. There is so much senseless death and destruction and I can't make it end. I thought I could stop this, but I've been following the same footsteps and walking the same path."

Claude doesn't hesitate to sink so he's level with her. "Teach–Byleth–I don't know what you're talking about."

Byleth inhales slowly and tries to calm her racing mind. "I have a goddess inside my head and I can turn back time," she says abruptly. Claude tenses. She laughs and shakes her head. "You probably think I'm crazy and I don't blame you. Tomorrow my father is going to die and I'm so terrified I won't be able to do anything about it."

"You're not crazy," he says firmly. "I may not understand half of what you just said, but, Teach, you're not crazy. I mean, you trusted me with this, so maybe you're a little crazy, but you're not crazy."

Byleth laughs lowly. "I can't lose him again."

Something warm drapes over her back and shoulders and tugs her sideways. They shift so that they're sitting on the floor of the tower and Claude's arm is wrapped firmly over her shoulder. Byleth presses her head to the crook of his neck and breathes in his familiar scent of pine and parchment.

"We won't lose him," Claude assures.

Byleth shakes her head against his neck. "That's what I said last time."

She can feel his pulse thrumming where she rests against him. He doesn't seem to know where to take the conversation and instead just keeps his arm around her and lets her rest against him where they sit. She's sure there are a million places Claude with his charming smile would rather be, but he makes no attempt to move away from her, staying a warm, reassuring presence to her.

Slowly, Byleth reaches for his hand. She guides his fingers to the inside of her wrist where her own pulse pulses rhythmically. He doesn't say anything, but his index and middle fingers press into her skin as he feels the hum of her pulse. After a moment, she guides his palm up to her upper chest and rests it against her bare skin above where her heart should be. After a moment, Claude stiffens and pulls his hand away.

"You have no heartbeat," he says matter-of-factly. "How is that possible?"

"I have a goddess inside of me and a Crest Stone instead of a heart."

Claude's breath catches as he leans away from her just enough that he can make eye contact with her. "You weren't kidding."

Byleth closes her eyes and shakes her head. "No."

He leans forward again so that their foreheads are pressed together. The moment feels painfully intimate and a part of Byleth's head is in uproar–DIMITRIDIMITRIDIMITRI, it whispers–and the rest of her is blissfully silent because as wrong as this feels, it feels more right than most things have since she reset the world.

- ~ -

Byleth presses her forehead to the side of Jeralt's face and closes her eyes. She's crying and shaking and

everything hurts again

. She thought she had done it right this time, putting herself between her father and Monica, but Jeralt had asked her to check on Leonie who had been injured in the battle. Byleth had hesitated and her father had insisted and Monica had already been walking away.

He had taken her blade straight to the heart as soon as Byleth had turned away. Thales had thwarted her Divine Pulse and Byleth was once again in the mud, clutching the still body of her father.

Why am I not enough? she asks Sothis desperately. Why can't I save him?

"Perhaps this is his fate. I am the Beginning, but I cannot see the End."

Byleth shakes her head and pulls Jeralt's body closer. With a shaking hand, she tries to pour white magic into him, but just like last time–just like with Dimitri–the spell doesn't take. Finally, having exhausted everything, she cries again.

"I'm sorry," she whispers to her dead father.

There's a sharp gasp over her shoulder and a rush of footsteps as her Golden Deer finally find her. A warm body presses against her side and a tan hand reaches forward to gently close Jeralt's eyes. A hand closes over one of hers where she's clutching Jeralt's chest and she leans into the body, letting it keep her upright. The other hand curls over her back, stroking and comforting as best it can.

Claude swallows heavily as he holds her. "I'm sorry," he whispers. It hurts because he knew and he tried, but they're still sitting here and her father is still dead.

The Golden Deer pile around them shortly after. Their hands brush against Byleth and against Claude and against Jeralt. No words are exchanged and no one complains. Raphael inserts himself last, using his large frame to try and shield as many of them as possible from the rain. Leonie presses her head against Byleth's curling both her hands over Byleth and Claude's joined fingers on Jeralt.

The warmth of their bodies pressing around her is like an echo of the other life, but Byleth thinks this one hurts more because she knew it was coming.

"I'm sorry," Sothis whispers. "I'm so sorry."

- ~ -

/ guardian moon /

"

You have got to be kidding me! How could you fall for this again?

" Sothis scolds.

Byleth lets out a growl and spins. The odd place where Sothis resides is exactly as it was last time and she's just as annoyed. "I'm sorry, alright? I just got mad." She exhales slowly and turns back to face the goddess.

Sothis descends the stairs towards her. "You understand what this means, don't you?"

Byleth frowns. "I can't leave here without your power, can I?"

Sothis shakes her head. "No, you can't. And we've established that you must go. But," the goddess pauses.

Byleth stares at her. Sothis looks remarkably young, as she always has, but she looks troubled. "What is it?"

Sothis reaches out and stops just before she touches Byleth's face. "My friend," she says softly. "If I go this time, I do not know if you will be able to reach me again."

Byleth tenses. "I found you last time."

"And we have been together this time differently than last time. I fear you will feel my absence more."

Byleth lowers her head. "I have to go."

"I know," Sothis replies. "And I am sorry, Byleth, that I have not been enough to save your father and that I was not enough to save Dimitri last time."

Byleth shakes her head and looks the goddess straight in the eye. "We are one, Sothis. Any weakness of yours is a weakness of mine as well. I will find you again when I need you."

Sothis laughs. "Oh my friend, you misunderstand. I hope you will never have need of me again."

Without another word, Sothis reaches forward and presses a hand against Byleth's chest. The goddess dissolves into golden light. The light burns, bright and warm and Byleth screams out. Once again, golden light sears the darkness and she swings blindly out with the Sword of the Creator.

The world bends around her and she cuts through it, tearing the fabric of dimensions to return herself back to her world. There are mixed gasps from around her from the Golden Deer and from Solon's forces.

Byleth ignores it all and flies at Solon, letting her rage burn through her as her awakened sword strikes down. She cuts through the remaining enemies in a blind rage, grieving for Jeralt and for Sothis and for everyone that she has lost.

When she's done and Solon is dead, Claude is at her side. His hands grip her arms and steady her as the glowing energy in her veins fades leaving her drained and exhausted. He studies her, taking in changed hair and eyes and shakes his head slowly.

"Your goddess," he murmurs. "She gave you her power?"

Byleth nods. The world blurs at the edges and her eyes are hot with tears. She tries to ask Claude how her Fawns fared, but her tongue is lead in her mouth and the darkness spins violently. She blacks out so hard and so quickly she almost doesn't hear the cry of her name that tears from his throat, drenched in concern.

- ~ -

/ pegasus moon /

"Hey! Teach!"

Byleth spins to see Claude jogging in her direction. She's standing on the eastern balcony at the cathedral and she's a bit surprised he found her. But, to be fair, Claude is relentless when he wants to be. She nods to him in greeting and he slows to a walk.

"I wanted to catch you before we went into the Holy Mausoleum. I want to know what you're feeling about all of this," he says.

Byleth wraps her arms around her waist and looks out over the monastery again. "I'm still worried," she admits. "There are things that may happen today that we may never recover from. I can only hope we've done enough."

Claude's brow furrows. "This isn't just about what revelation you may receive is it?"

Byleth sighs. "No, it isn't."

"We'll be with you, Teach, all of us. No matter what."

Byleth turns to look fully at Claude. "That promise we all made to come back in five years. Do you think they'll honour that too?"

Claude laughs. "You've met us, right? We're a bunch of crazy sentimental fools."

Byleth smiles and it feels a little sad. "I like the sound of a bunch of sentimental fools."

Claude smiles and something in Byleth's stomach twists. She has no idea what awaits them in the Holy Mausoleum and she can only hope it won't be exactly what she's expecting. She steps toward him and slides her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

"Thank you, Claude," she says quietly.

He hugs her back and for a moment it's quiet, just the two of them and the wind.

- ~ -

After Rhea gives her the order, Byleth's grip on the Sublime Creator Sword tightens until it hurts. She stares down the leader of the Black Eagle House.

"Is it worth all of this, Edelgard?" she asks.

Edelgard's face is steeled cold and neutral. "Everything was leading to this. I've accomplished my aims here."

"Why does it have to lead to war?" Byleth presses.

Edelgard frowns. "There is no other alternative. Professor, we have been walking this path since the moment we met. There was no other way this could go."

Byleth holds her sword out and shakes her head. "If I'd come to you, could I have set you off this path?"

Edelgard's expression hardens into something that's almost cruel. It almost reconciles the images she has of the Flame Emperor's cruelty and the young woman before her. "Professor, if you would have joined me, you would have had the pleasure of being on the winning side of this war that will come."

Hubert appears in a burst of light and then they're both gone and Byleth's chest tightens until it hurts. Inevitable, she laments. Was all of this for naught? It hurts to consider that everything she had been through, all her pain and suffering, was just so that the world could walk the same brutal, bloody path again.

Byleth closes her eyes and lets the tip of her sword brush against the stone. She doesn't want to see the rage on Rhea's face and the dismay and betrayal on Claude's. She doesn't want to think about telling Dimitri and initializing the Kingdom Prince's true descent into madness.

She doesn't want to think of Thales and the cliff and what might come next.

- ~ -

/ lone moon /

Byleth finds the Blue Lions in their classroom, looking serious and troubled. She has just finished speaking with the Golden Deer about the situation and imagines Hanneman has done the same for the Blue Lions. Still, several of them turn sharply in her direction when she enters that classroom.

"Professor!" Ashe exclaims. He wrings his hands in front of his, his brow creased. "Is it all true?"

Byleth nods slowly. "Edelgard is the Flame Emperor and she is leading a march on Garreg Mach. We must be prepared."

Sylvain frowns. "And the Black Eagles?"

Byleth shakes her head. "No, none of them knew but Hubert. I imagine many of them are just as shocked as the rest of us." She looks around the classroom and notices two notable absences. She bites her lip and turns towards Felix and Ingrid, almost not ready to hear the answer to the question on the tip of her tongue. "Where are Dimitri and Dedue?"

Felix scoffs. "The Boar is in the Knight's Hall butchering everything he can get his hands on before he gets to Edelgard."

Byleth flinches. She had, futilely, hoped to be the one to talk to Dimitri, but it didn't look like she was going to get that chance. There is a good chance that Dimitri has already started his spiralling into the mad prince he became after five years. "Dedue is with him?"

"Yes," Annette pipes up. "The rest of us thought it would be good to give him some space."

"It's hard to believe Edelgard would do all of this," Mercedes murmurs softly.

"She's always been ambitious, but this isn't what I was expecting at all," Ingrid adds.

Byleth pulls a hand through her newly mint-coloured hair and sighs heavily. "It will not be an easy fight, that is for sure, but we must all survive."

She turns to leave the Blue Lions. They are not hers anymore, no matter how much she still cares for them now. She hopes that her attempts to guide them and connect with them this time have resonated enough to keep them the same kids and young adults she knows going into the future. She pauses at the threshold of the Blue Lion classroom.

"It's a shame there won't be a celebration for the Millennium Festival. I would have looked forward to seeing you all there."

- ~ -

After the initial briefing, Byleth is placed in charge of relaying the commands to Dimitri and Claude. She sends a squire to summon them both and meets them above the graveyard where if she cranes her neck she can just see where both of her parents are buried. It doesn't take long after she summons them for the two remaining House Leaders to find her.

Dimitri looks haunted. His eyes are tired and his posture stiff and alert. His facade of "perfect prince" is well enough in place for those who don't know him, but Byleth sees through it and she knows the Lions do too.

Claude, on the other hand, simply looks tired. His green eyes are dimmer than usual and his hair is messy, even for him. He has a book tucked under his arm and a bow slung along his back.

They both look achingly young for what lies ahead.

"I have information from Rhea and Seteth about the plans to protect the monastery. We want to protect the monastery, but if it comes to it, it is more important to evacuate those who cannot fight. We want to survive, not be slaughtered here," Byleth instructs.

Both Claude and Dimitri take in the information silently, nodding along as she relays their instructions. When she reaches the end of the information that Rhea had given her, she pauses. Byleth holds out both of her hands, one to each of her students.

Claude doesn't hesitate before slipping his hand into hers. Dimitri takes a moment longer, but she has forged enough trust with him that he does take her hand. She squeezes both of their hands and sends a silent prayer to Sothis that this is not the last time she will see them.

"You must survive," she tells them. "Your people will need you and we will see each other again."

If her words ring oddly to them, neither says a word. Dimitri's hand–large and calloused across the palm–squeezes her back lightly. Claude's hand–slimmer and rough along the fingertips–reciprocates a tighter grip.

- ~ -

In the end, little changes. There is a cliff and a crack and this time she doesn't scream.

She closes her eyes before she hits the ground and welcomes–

darkness.