Chapter Text
Enbarr was seized, the almost six-year war could be proclaimed ended.
As Edelgard offered one last exhale, Fódlan inhaled freedom.
While the march towards Garreg Mach was full of sorrow and grieving; amidst the flames and destruction, a few hopeful and merry chants would rally the different battalions across the fields; everyone looking forward to going back home.
Home.
Home was different for everybody.
As a silver crown fell over Dimitri’s head in Garreg Mach’s cathedral, Byleth knew where her home was.
Byleth’s rosy lips curved as she stared at the image in front of her: King Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, co-ruler of United Kingdom of Fódlan, and her dearly beloved. His body was wrapped in fine garments of white, gold and blue; leaving sorrowful gray and mournful black behind.
In a few blinks, a few sentences filled with pride, joy, and love; Byleth was engulfed in cleric and diplomatic duties to bring help to the ravished land and the broken people; duties she felt eager to accomplish knowing that her dearly beloved would be there to support.
While Byleth at first thought she would only need to deal with issues as an Archbishop a few months back; she joyfully met her duties as an expecting mother as well. While traversing through long roads and under harsh weather while pregnant; she couldn’t deny that it was comical how Seteth and Flayn would flock around her, making sure she was eating properly and sleeping enough hours.
Dimitri’s endless letters filled with amorous words and tender promises only made her look forward when she is finally able to go back to Fhirdiad, where both of them will patiently await the birth of their child.
Both of them lost their mothers, different scenarios but closely related to their birth. To deny that they weren’t nervous of the whole ordeal would be a lie; but Byleth had never turned away from a challenge, less when deep inside all she has ever wanted now was a warm home and a family of her own.
All her life she has raised her voice or a sword, would it be too selfish to raise a child in her arms instead? For these years of endless fighting and torment cease to finally dwell as an advisor and partner instead?
“Oof.” Byleth softly mouthed as she slowly stood up from a plush chair in her study, gently smiling as a hand rested on her small bump. “Your father tells me you will look like me, but I’m truly having my doubts.” Her tone was playful as she walked over to a small table, serving herself a cup of water and cutting a few pieces of bread. “By how hungry you make me, I’m sure you will be large. Just like him…”
She hums as jam and bread meet her lips, a fly smile resting on her features instead. Memories of her different encounters with Dimitri resurface, mostly tender tea times and soothing naps; soon enough, she finds herself reminiscing passionate nights and heated discussions instead.
“It truly isn’t a surprise I’m like this, your father is a very handsome lad.” She mumbled between munches, patting her bump again and slightly scoffing. “Too handsome, enduring and alluring...”
Her attention shifts to the fire in her furnace suddenly disappearing. She cocks an eyebrow, her gaze meeting the closed window before staring at the broken and weak wood again. Today was a chilly day, but the winds were calm and sunlight could still creep through endless gray clouds.
She doesn’t react fast enough when an assassin soon descends from the chimney. With the added weight and her reflexes less sharp due to peaceful times, her voice nor hand moves quick enough to cast a thunder or beckon for help.
Not quick enough to avoid a dagger meeting her chest. Blood spurted from her lips as she fell to the ground with a loud thud, feeling her breath weaken as her lungs were slowly being invaded by liquid.
An assassination. Why? Byleth questions, not turning back the gears of time just yet; wishing to at least retrieve any answers from this timeline.
“Pathetic. To think they hired me expecting a harsher fight.” The assassin muttered condescendingly as he kneeled beside her, enjoying how Byleth croaked when retrieving the dagger from her body. “Allowing yourself to be spoiled by that lowly beast was your undoing, Your Grace.”
“May the goddess forgive me,” He blurts with a smirk, “A shame, truly. Even in this state, you’re beautiful…” His hand passes through her hair, fingers following the length until they touch a swollen breast. “Do not worry, your remains will be kept pristine in this holy ground once I remove this pest from you.”
Her hazed gaze followed the way he rose the dagger anew, pointing to her stomach.
To her child.
“Our benevolent saint won’t be corrupted further.” He stated, but at the moment the sound of breaking glass was all that filled Byleth’s ears.
Her eyes closed as she felt her body being guided back in time, everything beginning anew as she had finished conversating with her baby. Her glare is stern towards the still ignited flames in her furnace.
With a flick of her fingers and a few words, the gentle fire soon turns harsh, invading not only the firebox but also the smoke shelf. Screams of agony soon fill her ears as a body soon falls into the ongoing flames; the man’s flesh soon melting while his bones begin to crack.
The doors of her study are soon opened by Ashe and Ingrid, alerted by the sound and the stench.
Time stops again, and she goes back.
She goes back a few times, before finally stopping when it had been enough; her anger was channeled incorrectly, Divine Pulse being abused like this could bring harm to her and therefore to the child.
Byleth decides to cast a weak Thunder when the man meets her chimney, his screams less harsh while his body remains unconscious instead of torched.
Ingrid and Ashe burst into her study again, sword and lance ready to react; both young knights stare in awe at the scene, but the younger man soon reacts to stand near the Archbishop.
“Professor, are you alright?” He questions as his arms hold Byleth gently, the woman soon resting against him as her breathing is a little shaky.
Ingrid would have chided him for the used title, but this wasn’t the focal point at the moment. “Your Grace!”
Byleth is soon guided to her plush chair again, both hands resting on her stomach as she quickly takes control of the situation. Leaving behind the sharp pain that her chest suffered, “Remain calm and quiet. This was an attempted assassination targeted to the Royal Family as a whole.” She explains, exhaling softly.
“Ingrid.” Her stern gaze matching Ingrid’s. “Rally your most trusted gambit, and seek for any stragglers that may be lurking around.” It was unlikely, taking note of the assassin’s previous words; but it was for the best. “Make sure Seteth is alright…” She remembers that the assassin entered through her chimney “He is in Sky Watch at the moment. If you find him, tell him to come here.”
Ingrid offers a bow. “Understood. Should I send a notice to Fhirdiad?”
“Please.” A weak reply. “Make sure it's urgent…I’m fearing for Dimitri’s safety as well.”
“Ashe.” Byleth nods at the younger knight, Ingrid already gone to accomplish her mission. “Please, stay with me and help me inspect that man’s body. He may be carrying important information.”
Soft greens go determined, Ashe offering a nod as he scans the surrounding area before hunching over the still unconscious man. Deft fingers quickly retrieving the different daggers across the body; memories of Lonato’s body being searched like this resurface, but he would push the thoughts away.
“Professor…” He gently beckons as he finds a small scroll and a few vials as well. Ashe soon goes back to Byleth, offering the items before getting his bow ready; a sturdy arrow pointing towards the assassin now.
Byleth’s lips immediately twist as she recognizes the wax seal, breaking it off with one of the multiple daggers resting on her lap now.
Do not harm Her Grace’s neck or features, sculptors and artists alike must have a pristine look of her last expression as death embraces her; on that call, make sure to remove that wrench from her stomach so when her body is displayed towards the faithful, she still appears as a virgin.
Do not forget to retrieve some of her blood, and bring her wretched devil spew with you.
We need to torch it in the Valley of Torment if we hope to find salvation from the goddess just yet.
Send these words back with the vial, only then will my men allow you entrance into the Lion’s Fang to retrieve your precious jewels.
I shouldn’t be even paying you. You well know this is for the salvation of us all.
“Jewels.” Byleth stated as she found the energy to stand up again, glaring at the assassin next as her eyes could no longer stand the contents of the scroll. “You were willing to exchange Fódlan’s future for mere jewels. How pathetic.”
“Your Grace?” Ashe questions meekly.
“I’m sorry, Ashe.” She shakes her head softly. “It just seems that not all lords rallied with us truly when Arianrhod was seized.” A quick explanation, and nothing more for now.
The Lion’s Fang is located near territory that once belonged to the Rowe family. The seal’s color and stamp had a close resemblance to a design Empire Loyalists are using.
Seems war knocks her doors yet again, even more personal this time.
The Archbishop’s private chambers were soon moved to an outcast tower. Unsurprisingly, the order came directly from Fódlan’s distraught king; Byleth couldn’t be alone, no matter the circumstances; while more private events like restroom stops and bath hours were kept to a minimum.
Dimitri had sent on his invoice that he would be leaving Fhirdiad to be with his wife. The king would personally escort his wife back to their castle; where they would greet the birth of their child while preparing political discourses to showcase how Byleth could continue her duties in a Cathedral near castle town.
“There are only two reasons why you are able to stand here: Dimitri’s benevolence.” Byleth stated calmly, gaze stern against eyes that could match her own. “And the connection we have; a connection you forced us to have…” She bitterly corrected.
Byleth’s attempted assassination brought much attention to her, friends and older students alike would visit much to the protest of Seteth and Ingrid. However, while Annette’s and Mercedes’s company was welcomed, she couldn’t say the same for the woman in front of her.
“Rhea. Why are you here?” Byleth questioned as she held the arms of her chair a little tighter, forced the banister to crack more as her back rested against it.
“You already know why.” Rhea’s features were serene as she spoke, her hands resting over her lap as she sat across the armchair from Byleth’s“You can no longer be here in Garreg Mach; nor stay as the Archbishop.”
“Why the sudden change of thought? You were the one who handed this position to me when I barely understood how the church worked; your hands are responsible of this being on my head.” Byleth responded as she gently gestured to her golden headpiece. “Now that I know and understand the church’s trail of thought, you wish for me to step down? Curious.”
She was being rather cynical and impolite, but her stale heart demanded no otherwise. “I fought your war, rallied the church and brought you back home. Do you now deem me unworthy of this position? Matters not.”
“No, child.” Rhea finally interrupted, gently closing her eyes. “Please, hear what I need to say.”
There was a short silence, but Byleth’s gaze fell to the window outside; longingly staring at the clear blue sky. She moved a hand to her stomach, caressing it slowly as her breathing relaxed for a moment. “My father once said you were frightening...and it’s true. Even now, my skin crawls and my stomach feels uptight.” A calm statement, before turning to see the older woman.
“If you are here, it can only mean there are more secrets I don’t know about; and that frightens me, Rhea.” Byleth sighed, “Speak.” She demanded.
Rhea was unable to hide the hurt from her features, but her heart felt calm at seeing that Byleth had evolved into a stern leader; her brusque manners still mimicking those of Jeralt, which soon made her smile. “How many months?” Her eyes rested on Byleth’s stomach.
The question caught Byleth off guard, but she ended up smiling as well; amused of how shameless the question was. “Seven.”
“You look exactly just like your mother when she was expecting you…” Rhea sighs, and she notices how Byleth’s features go soft. “I come bearing no more secrets, child. Only truths.” Her head bows “I know that it’s my fault that your fate has been so cruel to you...and that’s why I am here; to beg you to leave,and save that child from the same fate.”
“You have already suffered a taste of what’s coming towards you,” Rhea continues, following the way Byleth’s eyebrows furrow. “Assassination plots will soon become a common thing. Your child carries not only the blood of the progenitor god, but also from one of the 10 Elites.”
“Assassination plots have always existed in every new rise of government.” Byleth interrupts her, “United Kingdom of Fódlan will not surrender to those who wish to bring chaos and suffering to the world anew; people rallied in the war, they will do so once again to maintain our peace.” A pause. “Nothing assures that my child will possess a crest.”
“and those who oppose you and King Dimitri will rally as well.” Rhea offers a rebuttal, “Just like they are doing now.” A short inhale “Byleth, Sothis’s blood and blessing courses through your body...there is no possibility for your child to not bear a crest; it’s quite possible that your blood infuses a minor crest and makes it evolve into a major one.”
Byleth looks away from her, her chest feeling tighter by the second as a heavy truth is thrown at her.
“Catherine has informed me of what Margrave Gautier and King Blaiddyd plan to do...a political and educational reform that no longer needs the usage of crests and instead demands a voting system and grade exam; a splendid yet naive idea, but it will meet a lot of closed doors that will only be forced open by a few lords’ pressure.”
Rhea’s eyes seem to ignite as she observes Byleth’s posture becoming less poise and strong, “Do you really believe people will follow and obey the king’s reign without skepticism if the royal family is full of children bestow with powerful crests?” She slowly stands up, walking around Byleth to then stand behind her. “Assassination ploys will then evolve to whole communities being hostages; the only acceptable trade being you and your family, seeking to exploit your blood.”
Byleth’s eyelids lower as she starts to frown, her lips going flat as Rhea’s words and that assassin’s note start pounding into her psyche. “Before none of that happens, those wishing to revolt would be brought to justice.” She counters.
“Justice?” Rhea whispers, her words turning almost into venom that slowly poisons Byleth’s unwavering determination. “Who would bring them to court? Who would desire to follow any law made under Dimitri’s reign if his queen is none other than Byleth Eisner, master of the Creator’s Sword and with more power than Saint Seiros.”
Rhea rests a hand on Byleth’s shoulder, so she would turn to see her. “My child, I know the land of man is pleasant and pleasurable, but it’s also treacherous and full of greed.” Her thumb gently caresses her collarbone, “You are no mere mortal, and the world will know that when your child is born.” Her tone was soft, a grievous contrast to her words.
Byleth’s eyes began to sting, tears soon flowed down her somber features as Rhea continued.
“You are not safe, and neither will he.” Rhea’s words make Byleth start to gently sob. “King Dimitri will soon be deemed unworthy of having you; countless men will seek to end his life and all of his offspring in exchange of having you.” She moves her hands to clear away her tears. “None of that has to happen however, you can leave everything behind...and come with me.”
Rhea’s smile is gentle, but there is certain darkness lingering in her eyes. “We can wander the world together, away from conflict as we allow mankind to settle into their new freedom. You can be whoever you wish to be, and that goes as well for your child.”
Byleth knew consequences needed to be met someday.
“Allow them to live, my child.” Rhea whispers. “If you truly love Fódlan and King Dimitri...you must let them go.”
There was once a time Byleth thought of leaving everything behind, but now that she is forced to do so; there is nothing but heartache. She knew Rhea’s words were true.
Still, to leave her job that she has come to feel proud of; to leave behind her friends and comrades she cherishes so dearly.
To leave behind her beloved who she adores and loves so ardently and passionately, who she promised to ever remain by his side.
For her child to never meet their loyal and tender father.
She never expected for fate to ask such a cruel trade in exchange for letting everyone breathe.
Dimitri wished to have arrived sooner to Garreg Mach; something in his heart told him that his horse had to run faster, that he had to demand everyone to sleep less; and yet, he knew such pressures to the body would not be approved by his beloved.
However, his beloved was now gone.
Nothing but a few goodbye letters and her emerald ring remained over a vanity; the last remains of Byleth now rested in his cold hands.
To my dearest,
I have never been good with farewells.
I have no clue how to say goodbye, and deep in my stale heart I know it’s because I don’t wish to leave.
Even now, all I long for are your warm hands and tender words; your strong arms that have kept me safe throughout the time we have spent together.
Know that I will always miss you, and shall always cherish and love you until my last breath.
To stay with you would condemn you to a sure death; to lead Fódlan alongside you, our friends and our people would bring nothing but chaos.
You once taught me how to be a professor, guided me kindly to be a friend and passionately lead me to be a lover. I am forever grateful of meeting you and feel so fortunate of the time we have spent together.
However, I cannot allow myself to be selfish, the world has suffered enough. My resolution has failed, and so I must be sacrificed in order for all of you to live.
I beg of you to at least allow me to keep our child; to have something of you with me, always.
Please, do not forsake us in your mind; let go of us. I beg you to forget and move on; to not hold down to our victories and defeats, to our memories and actions.
Proclaim that The Archbishop has fallen; echo that Byleth Eisner Blaiddyd has been defeated.
That the Queen of United Fódlan no longer breathes.
I...I’m sorry, my love. I know I promised to be by your side always, but your life is worth more than all the vows in the world to me.
Forever yours, Byleth.
Dimitri clenched the letter meant for him, all mental locks barely staying locked as he exhaled. Miraculously, he folded the letter neatly before putting it inside his cloak; fighting off tears as gruesome anger was all that corroded in his body.
Byleth promised to never leave, and yet she did. It was evident that such a decision was not her own, but it still hurt him. Yes, it pained him; it enraged him that someone dared to infiltrate her precious heart and mind to only poison it.
The image of her crossing roads and staying in who knows where while carrying their child, was slowly breaking him.
The blown-out candle of her room felt warm still, which meant she couldn’t have wandered far just yet; neither her treacherous companion.
“Seteth, who visited her last?” Dimitri adamantly demanded as the advisor stood behind him; Ashe and Ingrid following closely as the king was already going down the long stairway of the tower; wild wickedness lingering in his single blue.
“I nor her knights can give you such information, Lady Byleth instructed us to keep her visitors anonymous.” Seteth calmly answered, but he was forced to gasp and roughly choke on nothing as he was soon sent against the wall; his body lifted from the stairs as Dimitri held him by his neck with a hand.
“Your Majesty!” Ashe beckoned at him, his voice was surprised and slightly afraid; the torches around the walls making everyone not be caught in total darkness.
“Stand back.” Dimitri rasped the order, determinately staring at the advisor with a scornful glare. “My wife and child are out there, exposed to the wildness of the land and to the danger of an assassin having an easier time to end their lives.” His hold became stronger, making Seteth gasp as the silver part of his gauntlet was cold and sharp. “And you still have the insolence of proclaiming your silent oath to her?!”
The king scoffs as he frees Seteth, still glaring as the man breathes again; his ears catch the faintest of wheezes.
“We still don’t have enough information, it would be reckless to follow assumptions.”Seteth argues as he holds his neck, glaring gently in return. “I understand your worry and anger, but we cannot be careless. One wrong step, and we may put Byleth in peril.”
“Don’t you dare address her so casually…” Dimitri warns. “Not when you failed to keep her unharmed twice now...” He clenched his teeth “If it weren’t for Byleth’s unyielding trust for you, I would have you behind bars right now accused of treason.”
“Dimitri…” Ingrid intercepts this time, leaving titles behind to make the king relax. “We are all worried, but bickering and assuming the worst of each other will only make the search worse.” Her eyebrows furrow, “Please, let us meet with Dedue and the rest to analyze all our options.”
“Then tell me who visited her last,” Dimitri glares at Ingrid next, slightly heaving. “Or will you be quiet as well?”
There is silence, and Dimitri’s hands slowly form into fists.
“Lady Rhea.” Ashe finally speaks, glaring at their shadows; ignoring Ingrid’s and Seteth’s stare. “Lady Rhea and Sir Catherine came to visit, but only Lady Rhea entered her room.” He states, staring at Dimitri. “They both shared a meal in the dining hall, and when I planned to escort them back to this tower; Lady Byleth dismissed me.”
Ashe offers a deep reverence. “I am sorry, your Majesty. Had I followed Her Grace, I…”
“That’s enough.” Dimitri softly commands, his lips completely flat. “Thank you, Ashe.” He continues down the steps, feeling the younger knight steadily following him as Ingrid and Seteth stay behind. “We will keep this between our trusted ranks; all of Fódlan would go into chaos if the Archbishop is declared missing, more if that woman is to blame.”
“Are you suggesting we lie to the people?” Ashe asks incredulously.
“No, we are keeping information concealed until we know more.” Dimitri states, voice deep while his words don’t waver. “Surely the faithful can withstand secrecy for a moment longer until we find a trace of Her Grace.” A pause. “I will lead this investigation.”
It was personal.
Dimitri allowed for Rhea to find redemption and solace in peace, and she repaid him with a dagger across his heart.
“You can count on me, Your Majesty. I won’t fail you twice.” Ashe boldly stated, glaring ahead. “Sir Catherine took my brother and father away, I won’t allow her to take away our professor too. Even if she is just following Lady Rhea’s orders.”
Dimitri’s gaze softened, even if his jaw still felt tight. “Thank you…”
Ah, that title. It brought back memories to the king.
His professor…
His beloved light.
He would make sure to bring Byleth back home, and not even heaven’s or hell’s interception would stop him.
It would be simple. To just travel towards Fhirdiad or even Garreg Mach.
The longer Byleth stared into the gentle blues of her child, the more she wished to go back towards Dimitri. Her lips curved as her son yawned before latching to her nipple again; small hands kneading gently her breast.
Byleth found it ironic that Rhea was the one to help her deliver the child, her son. While she didn’t give birth in Garreg Mach’s cathedral, it was still a little amusing that she found relief and assistance in one of the smaller churches set by her around Gloucester territory.
In just a few days, she could cross the mountains and reach Charon territory; in a few blinks, her feet would guide her to Blaiddyd territory.
Ah, just thinking about his last name made her stale heart weep.
No, It was too late.
She made a choice, she has to withstand it. Dimitri’s heart had been broken by her so many times; to return without the promise of staying definitely would be cruel.
Perhaps she wouldn’t be wanted anymore. Would the Savior King become the Tempest once more at the sight of her and his bastard child?
No, Dimitri was too benevolent. Too kind. He would surely open his arms and greet them with all the love and attention of the world; the same care he now gives to his people.
“You need to leave.” One day, Catherine warned her. “Lady Rhea is slipping...it’s no longer safe for you here.”
In that moment, Byleth was slightly confused by her words; still tired as she gave birth only a few days ago. “What are you saying?”
“Take my horse, and don’t look back.” Catherine gives her no more details as her eyes fall over a sleeping Rhea; the older woman’s features looking rather too stiff to be simply sleeping. “The monks are already asking questions about you; it won’t be long before someone tracks you down.”
“Dimitri is searching for you.” Catherine spoke as she walked to Rhea, readjusting the woman over the simple bed offered by the faithful. “I overheard that from a drunktard spy nearly passing out in an alley. It won’t be long before he finds You—Us ” She chortles mournfully. “And damn it all if he doesn’t pierce my gut with Areadbhar…” A crude joke.
The thought of Dimitri finding her was pleasant for a moment, but Byleth soon realizes maybe Areadbhar would meet her gut too. “Catherine?” Byleth questions.
“Get out of here. We both know your body has healed enough, and your spirit is still that of a mercenary; you will survive.” Catherine grasps a small vial in her hand, already half empty. “There was a time where I used to feel jealous of the attention Lady Rhea gave you; but now, I can only pity you.”
“There’s one last duty I must keep, Byleth. I can’t go with you.” Catherine explains, voice soon tuning off.
Jeralt taught Byleth to scram whenever an area reeked of decay.
Despite there was a newborn in the room, the air felt surrounded with death.
Byleth didn’t turn back that night, even if carrying her child while riding a horse was painful and complicated; she didn’t dare to face somewhere else but forward.
The thought that Jeralt probably did these same actions once upon a time brought her comfort.
Her father would probably chide her for leaving in the first place.
No, guilt won’t make her go back. She needs to be stronger than that; she must push her emotions away again.
She has been gone for more than four months, and yet the world seems to continue at a regular pace; no sign of revolts due that the Archbishop is missing from her spot. The pain of being away seems to diminish if ever so slightly at the thought of Seteth and Flayn running around the monastery, trying to keep things together in her absence.
Her thoughts go back to Dimitri, she could almost perceive the scent of his clothes as he probably rests over endless piles of parchment; if she tried hard enough, maybe a small taste of his sweat would linger on her lips as she pressed them on his forehead.
Ah, another thought invades her. Dimitri, riding sternly on his stallion as he beckons small gambits to search for her while he spends his time dwelling within the tall stalls of meat and fruit; silently observing everything while pretending that his visit is due to make a stronger connection with the people.
Byleth needs to stop thinking about him, but the child in her arms makes that task impossible.
“You surely are a big eater, just like me…”Byleth gently whispers as she holds her son close,pulling on the small hat that protects thin strands of golden hair. “You force your mother to breastfeed almost none stop.” A gentle chide as she covers them more with a brown cloak, a hood with fluffy fur around the edges keeping teal hair safe.
After leaving Catherine and Rhea behind, she found her next destination to be Daphnel territory; she could cross the river and move upward, eventually meeting the sea where the next stop wasn’t important.
She had to leave Fódlan , it was the only way. Her face wasn’t known all around yet, but surely her hair and features would make questions arise if she stays in this land any longer. She could sell her horse and whatever valuables that were on her still; while the thought is laughable, a mercenary’s life seemed to bring comfort.
Byleth readjusts her weight as she sits on a few barrels, taking shelter from the sun using a shabby stall that had no produce showcased yet. “You’re going to make us miss the boat if you don’t hurry, Artem.”
Yes, Artem Eisner. Healthy, sound and wholesome. His son came into the world with a cry that could be compared to a lion’s roar; no crest manifesting but that could change at any given moment as he grows older.
Gentle droplets of rain soon start to fall. She huffs, “Well, isn’t this amusing. Seems fate wishes you to have a pleasant breakfast…” She mutters with a smile; there was no way a boat would leave now.
She wonders, was Sothis silently chiding her and telling her not to leave?
Nonsense, Sothis has been gone for a long time.
The sound of horses neighing and whining made her attention shift as she covered her breast, Artem already resting softly on her shoulder. Between giving her son a few pats on his small back so he would burp, her gaze centered in the banners held by a few knights and the insignias displayed on the horse’s pins.
She recognized the image of a proud knight riding a griffin.
“Scout ahead! Do not disturb the merchants and fishermen!”
She recognized Dimitri’s stern voice. On instinct, she brought Artem into her cloak again; pulling a little harder on her hood; while using a Divine Pulse was the wisest choice, she found it impossible when he came into view.
Her breathing hitched at the sight of the familiar black armor, her skin felt like crawling as she recognized those heavy bags under his eye and how unkempt long blond locks rested upon his shoulders and face; how Areadbhar rested over his back while the sharp edge of the weapon remained sealed by a knitted holster.
Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.
He was here.
She would have laughed at the irony of how his tracking skills seemed to mimic hers, but she was too busy trying not to lose her calm.
Byleth withheld the need to exhale his name, to inhale a shriek. Her gaze fell to the man that stood beside the king; oh, the ever kind and loyal Dedue.
The ever sharp and aware of his surroundings Dedue. His verdant gaze met her own, and the man quickly recognized her features despite that her skin was murky and stained by the slum’s dirt.
Byleth allowed for Dedue to alert Dimitri, she immersed on the way Dimitri’s features remained stern and almost dissipated; for a few instances, her body wished to stay in the present when his lone blue became soft and life seemed to mingle in his stare; how his pale skin manages to flush pink.
She closed her eyes, and heard glass breaking.
That would have to be enough, in a few gasps, she was back to the point where Artem was barely going to latch to her breast.
Her baby boy would have to eat later.
Time and space felt unimportant as she tried to hide from the king’s presence; a task not easily done when the fishing port is suddenly invaded by Kingdom and Church knights alike; Divine Pulse being used more than once when she would be recognized as The Archbishop or had the unsavory pleasure of meeting with old comrades when they beckoned Professor!
Still, there was a word that always made her chest ache.
Beloved! Dimitri once roared as she had the dismay of bumping against him when she was trying to run away from Sylvain.
Another Divine Pulse, but she knows there aren’t many left.
Artem would constantly cry as Byleth tried her best to reach her horse before meeting with Ingrid, he would gently wail whenever Byleth hid in a cutoff or the entrance of an inn before being recognized by Ashe or Mercedes.
There was a moment where Byleth tried immersing between the slightly crowded docking area, gently getting soaked when the rain caught up to her; there was no path nor corner of town that was not being investigated, her best bet was to hide in a used boat and try to calm Artem.
However, the more she walked, the fewer people would get on her way; unknown to her, at that time Dimitri had found her, silently following her as he took the time to observe her next movements.
“Please, just wait a little longer.” Byleth softly begged to her child, sweetly shushing him as she attempted to undo a knot that kept a boat safely secured on dock. “As we go downstream, I will feed you and sing you a lullaby.”
“I doubt you can do such things while trying to stay afloat.”
She froze, her hand stopping from undoing the knot as her ears buzzed; recognizing Dimitri’s voice yet again.
How?
How was he and the others finding her every single time? The soft shower soon turned into pounding droplets, Artem’s cries almost matching the power of the rain. She refuses to turn this time; slowly mustering up the energy to go back.
She can’t, Divine Pulse wouldn’t beckon to her demand.
“Thirteen,” Dimitri states as his words rumble heavy on his throat, exhaling as his steps become slower while coming closer to Byleth. “Thirteen times you tried to escape.”
Byleth feels her legs quivering, blankly staring ahead as she can no longer run away. She holds her child a little closer, trying to keep him warm and protected; his cries calming if only for a moment.
So, Dimitri could detect whenever Divine Pulse was used now. It shouldn’t surprise her, after so many moments they shared; it was only a matter of time before the king’s body would reminiscence the sensation of thoughts and flesh being pulled from one timeline to the other.
“Professor…” His voice softens for a moment, all hope lost and at the same time not. “Beloved…” Nurture reflects on the pet name, despite he was frowning. “Why are you running?”
Byleth turns around, her face stoic despite she felt her heart breaking at the sight of seeing him caught in the rain again; despair and confusion resting on his features once more. Hesitance and repent eventually showcase on her features, not that it mattered now.
“Dimitri…” A whisper.
“Answer me.” He softly demands, eyebrows soon furrowing. The king desperately needed to reach her; touch her even, but his soul demanded answers too.
“You already know why!” Her expression became distraught. “There is no place for someone like me here, someone like us.” She included her infant,”Nothing but pain and chaos would forsaken you and all of Fódlan if we remained by your side.”
“Is that what that vile woman made you believe?” He questioned as he came closer, his presence soon looming over hers as he reaches out to hold her head; cold gauntlets soon pushing away her hood; greedily taking in all her sharp features, fully immersing on how dirt began to be washed away from her skin. “Why would you believe someone like her?”
“Please, don’t…” She begged, trying to look away as his hands were surprisingly warm; like his stare. “The noble king of United Fódlan doesn’t belong here; not with me.”
Her exhale is shaky since Dimitri doesn’t allow her to look elsewhere, “Our union; the blood that courses through me, what I am; can’t you see that your people would question and eventually revolt when the world finds out who I am?”
“Your people love you.” He almost hissed the words, fighting every nerve in his body to not simply embrace her; protect her body from the sky’s cold weeping. “Our people love you. Our friends love you.” He paused. “I love you.” He ardently states. “You are needed and loved by many, Byleth Eisner Blaiddyd.” It felt so refreshing to beckon such precious name, “You, who fought through a harsh war and pierced through the darkness of hopelessness to bring forth dreams anew.”
“You, the owner of the Creator’s sword and proud leader of the Church of Seiros, deserve to dwell in the land that is being restored and saved thanks to you.” A pause as he feels his view blurring, “You, the regent Queen of United Fódlan and the mother of our child, deserves to come home.”
His bottom lip trembles, "Why won't you love me..." A whimper as his tone falters, "enough to stay with me?"
Her throat feels tight, but she had to speak. "I adore you; more than life itself." She trembled, "I love you."
Byleth finally manages to look away when his hands release her, but his arms and cloak are soon keeping her whole body safe; his exhilarated heart and heavenly warmth clouding all sensation.
“Then please, Byleth. Don’t leave me again; stay with me.” He begs as he holds her head close, avoiding to crush her and their child. “Please, come home with me. We have suffered enough.”
She starts to sob, her wails soon matching Artem’s; unable to hold back any longer as her body gives in to his voice and words; to his scent and presence.
Home.
She wanted to go home.
“We have suffered enough,” Dimitri repeated, “We have suffered enough.” Gentler every single time.
Sensations soon blurred, while their tears and the rain seemed to ease both their souls. There was a moment where they could look at each other again, for their bodies to take some distance so Artem could come into view as well.
Dimitri stared at his son for the first time, and never thought he could fall in love with someone at a moment’s notice. The child stared at him with swollen eyes and red cheeks, his wailing no longer present as curious youthful blues stared into a tired and bitter one.
“How can someone who creates something so docile, innocent and precious not belong in this world…?” He questioned out of breath, staring at his wife with a smile that could be considered awkward and improper.
Byleth sniffs, slowly losing composure as well as she allows a smile to escape. “I—I have no clue...”
They share a short laugh and chaste kiss, exhaling against each other for the briefest of moments; in a few blinks,the king convinced her to be carried in his arms, taking them away from the rain to immerse themselves in the warmth of an inn’s fire and the relieved chatter from their loved ones.
Byleth still felt a little hesitant, she felt guilt and sorrow whisper behind an ear while Dimitri kept her in his arms ; resting in a bed together. The king mesmerized at the sight of his wife feeding their child, nothing but joy and gratitude filling his heart.
Her gaze falls to where a silver ring rests in its rightful place. She smiles when Dimitri holds her hand, their rings glinting in unison.
She would push the thoughts away, she wouldn’t listen to the murking words and instead listen to his; smiling and never faltering against the consequences of today and probably tomorrow’s.
They could face them, together this time.