Chapter Text
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
Tennyson – “Ulysses”
The world was fire. The air around Byleth rippled with searing heat, baking her alive, drinking the moisture from her skin. The air in her lungs choked her with ash, suffocating her where she stood. She could see nothing but flames, their lurid orange glow surrounding her, closing in, engulfing her. There was no escape, no help. The Sword of the Creator, gripped in her hands, remained lifeless. It no longer flared to life for her—she was no longer the bearer of the Crest of Flames. It was only a sword, just as she was only a human.
The roar of flames was like the bellowing voice of the Immaculate One. As soon as the thought entered her mind, there she was: Rhea. The Immaculate One’s massive shape rose out of the inferno, looming over Byleth, eyes ablaze. When her jaws opened, her voice was the grating of metal of metal. "Is this the world you wanted?"
Her words were a blast of searing heat, worse than the flames, charring Byleth's very bones. Rhea spoke again. "Is this the world you wanted to create?" There was nothing left of Byleth but ash and cinders. She was a smouldering ruin at the feet of the Immaculate One.
The flames died. Cool darkness settled over her. Out of the endless black, a figure stepped forward, her flowing robes like the night sky, her locks the vibrant green of spring foliage. Sothis stood over her, no longer chiding or impatient. Her voice was soft as she asked, "Is this the world you wanted to create?"
There was nothing left of Byleth. No more flames. No more power. But from the void of her self she answered, "Yes."
#
Byleth jolted upright in bed, hand pressed against her chest where her heart hammered her rib cage with such force that it seemed determined to escape. Could that happen? Could your heart really beat out of your chest? Could it race itself to death like a horse pushed to the brink of exhaustion?
She forced herself to take deep breaths, to quell the horror of the dream and the fear of the strange, unfamiliar thing pulsing in her chest.
The sheets were tangled around her limbs, her clothes, sweat-soaked. Air, she needed air.
Some minutes later she was walking the echoing halls of Enbarr's imperial palace, empty at this hour but for a few scattered guards who gave curt nods as she passed them. It was only when she reached the gardens and drew in a deep breath of cool night air that the lingering aura of the nightmare finally began to lose its grip on her. A gibbous moon bathed the gardens in a soft glow and Byleth let her feet lead her down the cobbled path that was Edelgard's favourite, the one that, in the spring, would be lined with carnations. Now there was only the drooping branches of willows and the bare branches of the oleander bushes, tapping at her shoulders as she passed.
When a lithe figure stepped onto the path ahead of her, Byleth froze in her tracks. The moonlight transformed Edelgard into something ethereal, her pale hair loose around her shoulders like a veil, her normally scarlet garb replaced by a plain white shirt and dark trousers that made her seem to float among the shadows cast by the weeping willows. Byleth's breath caught in her throat. Her hand flew to her chest: her heart was racing again.
Edelgard turned and in an instant her expression shifted from surprise to pleasure. "My teacher," she said as she moved to join Byleth. She took one of her hands and held it in both of hers, smiling. Byleth's eyes flitted to the ring on her left hand, the ring Jeralt had left her, its stone the same shade as Edelgard's violet eyes. "What are you doing out at this hour?"
"I needed some air. I had… an unpleasant dream."
Edelgard's eyebrows shot up. "I've never known you to have nightmares."
Byleth shook her head. "It's new to me. I used to dream but… I was never disturbed by the contents of my dreams. There were never any emotions attached to them."
Edelgard's squeezed her hand. She knew what Rhea had done to Byleth—she knew everything, all of Byleth's secrets. All her life Byleth had been only a vessel, implanted with a crest stone and made to be at once superhuman and less than human. Now she was somewhere in the middle. And she felt things as she never had before. "And yet," Edelgard said, "you were so understanding when you heard about my nightmares all those years ago."
"I understood the concept," Byleth said with a shrug. "It's just that… well… the actual experience is rather different, isn't it?"
A dry laugh escaped Edelgard. "Yes. Very much so. Would it help to tell me your dream?"
"No, I'm fine now. What about you?"
"I couldn't sleep. There's too much to think about, too much that still needs to be done. And tomorrow…"
The meeting was tomorrow. The first move in the chess match that would be their dealings with those who slither in the dark. Edelgard didn't dare speak of it aloud but Byleth understood that was surely what weighed on her so heavily this night.
Byleth brought Edelgard's hand to her lips. "We'll see this through. Together."
Edelgard tilted her face up, her voice soft, "Byleth," she whispered. And Byleth felt that heart—that heart that had been a stranger to her all these years—begin to race again. She cupped Edelgard's face in her hands and gently brought their lips together.
This, too, was new to her. The warmth of Edelgard's mouth; the insistent way her fingers tugged at Byleth's collar, drawing her closer; the way her skin tingled at her touch. All of it was new and wonderful and overwhelming. She was never certain what to do with her hands—she wanted to tangle her fingers in Edelgard's silvery hair, to run her fingertips over the soft skin of her cheeks and neck, to rest her hands on Edelgard's hips and pull her close against her, closer still—all of these things at once.
Edelgard drew back, cheeks flushed, breathing heavily. "The guards. They make the rounds here."
Byleth licked her lips, trying to clear her thoughts which had gotten unusually fuzzy. Her strange new heartbeat was pounding and she ached to be close to Edelgard again. "You think it would surprise them to see us together?"
Edelgard looked down. "Professor, you must understand, I'm the emperor and the guards will gossip."
Byleth stepped closer to whisper in Edelgard's ear. "We can use that to our advantage. It will work in our favour if Lord Arundel's spies report that you're distracted. They'll underestimate you."
"You don't really think he'd fall for that, do you?" Edelgard said, tone incredulous even as she kept her voice low.
"He's disdainful of humans isn't he? He sees us as beasts and his forces as superior beings." She shook her head. "He doesn't understand human emotions." Once upon a time, neither had she, not really. She had observed emotions with hollow detachment. The Ashen Demon. Nothing but the goddess's vessel waiting to be filled with her essence. But things were different now. Sothis had left her her free will, allowed her to choose her path, allowed her to free herself from the crest stone that had stilled her heart.
Edelgard bowed her head. "He understands them well enough to know how to pit people against each other."
Reaching out, Byleth let her fingers trail across Edelgard's cheek. "But he doesn't understand how the bonds between people can make them stronger. He'll believe our allies to be fickle because his are, and our feelings to be distractions because that's all they are to him."
Edelgard considered the matter for a minute but then nodded slowly. "You may be right. My uncle has always excelled at rending bonds rather than forging them."
The caress of moonbeams made Edelgard look pale and slight, giving no hint at her inhuman strength and her steely will. She had never faltered, not during the years at the academy when she'd been forced to deceive her friends and allies, not during the five years when Byleth had been sleeping, not at Tailtean. Byleth no longer had that monstrous strength so she could only try to match her in determination. She, too, wanted to see Edelgard's vision for a better world become a reality. She wanted Fódlan to be free of the inhuman forces that had been manipulating its fate for the past millennium and more.
Byleth cupped Edelgard's face in her hands and she could hear the quaver in her voice as she spoke. "I'm not what I was, I'm not—" She faltered, shook her head. "But I'll see this through with you." Even words seemed to cut into her now. Everything was too sharp, too bright, too much. But she wanted it all anyway if that was what it meant to be human. "I love you," she said, staring into Edelgard's eyes. "More than anyone. More than—" Her voice broke on the words. Her hands were shaking. Her pulse, heartbeat, her thoughts—everything was racing, everything was unsteady.
Edelgard must have noticed, for she wrapped her arms around Byleth and held on tight. And when Byleth was steady once again, Edelgard kissed her without a worry about who might be watching.