Chapter Text
Byelth’s legs had a familiar ache in them as she entered Remire. The midday sun was high above her, making her shadow a black puddle at her feet. She glanced about, taking in a few landmarks to help her find her way and maybe spot an inn without having to bother any of the townsfolk. Though some tipped their hats to her in greeting.
Byleth wasn’t one to stay in one place for too long, never had a reason to beyond the basic necessities of eating and resting. Very rarely would she stay long enough to know the locals or their customs aside from where their inn was or a blacksmith to repair her sword. She’d sometimes chat up the innkeeper for any rumors of bandits or if there was a bounty posted for her to take on.
But something about Remire was different.
A crowd slowly gathering around the water fountain at the town square grabbed her attention, pulling her away from her inn-hunting task.
She stopped a young boy who was about to pass her by. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“Not from around here, are you?” the boy commented with a toothy grin.
“Obviously,” Byleth deadpanned, gesturing to her clothes and armor that contrasted greatly with the simple clothes of the people around them.
The boy shrugged. “The contest is about to begin. The cat will be here any minute now.”
Byleth blinked, only understanding the boy’s words individually.
“There’s a woman who lives in the outskirts and she can grant a wish if someone can catch her cat and get the key from it. But they gotta do it before the week is up, ‘else we’ll have to wait a whole ‘nother year to try again,,” he explained.
“Huh,” was all Byleth could say in response. A woman who grants wishes? Is that even possible? She was no stranger to magic, but only the kind that aimed to kill her.
The loud murmurs of the gathering crowd suddenly fell hushed as a few of them pointed excitedly. Byleth craned her neck to see and spotted a snow white cat sauntering closer to the square. It jumped onto the stone wall of the fountain and sat down, fixing the crowd with an unblinking stare. Around its neck was a lavender ribbon with a shining silver key hanging from it.
Seconds passed. The townsfolk coiled with tension as they waited with bated breath. Who was going to make the first move? Them or the cat?
Then the cat raised a paw.
And began cleaning itself.
With a shout, a man shot forward and made to grab the cat.
As if expecting this, the cat leaped and hopped onto the man’s shoulder and bounded away. Other townsfolk had followed his example and lunged for the feline as well but were met with the same result.
Byleth watched the chaos with an amused smile. The boy she had been speaking to joined the fray to cheer on the participants along with other spectators who all laughed rauctiously at the unfolding antics.
If Byleth had heard about this from the next city over, she’d assume that it was the stuff of a child’s imagination rather than a legitimate tradition upheld by the townsfolk. It was strange beyond belief, and she has traveled to many strange places in Fodlan in her life. But she had to admit that it was entertaining.
Her aching limbs begged her to walk away and find a bed to fall into, but instead Byleth set down her travel pack, stretched her arms over her head, and got down on one knee, turning her amused focus into one of calculation. She has years of experience in hunting and tracking, and if there was one thing she had in abundance it was patience.
A woman came close to getting the key. If time was slowed, everyone would see that her fingertip grazed the cat’s scruff where the lavender ribbon rested. Even the cat was caught by surprise, acting on instinct to run away in a hurry rather than get away strategically like it had been since the chase began.
Byleth surged forward, jumping after the cat until her fingers curled into the soft fur. Soon she had a grip on the cat’s torso, earning her a shocked meow that rang out in the town square. Her momentum was too much to completely stop and so she cradled the feline close to her chest as she tucked and rolled across the dirt.
A tense silence fell over the square as the mercenary coughed against the kicked up dust and debris, all the while she kept a gentle hold on the cat. Its once snow white fur was coated with a thin layer of dirt from the tumble. But it didn’t look concerned about that at all. Instead, its unusual violet eyes were wide, its tail ramrod straight and tense along with the rest of its body. It didn’t try to escape, even as the woman shifted so that the cat rested on her lap. Rather, the cat stared up at its captor, fully exposing the key around its neck. It knew the conditions of victory and it closed its eyes in resignation as the victor’s hand descended over it.
But instead of feeling a tug at its neck, the cat felt fingers softly pet the top of its head.
“Mrow?” The cat opened its eyes, then immediately fell shut again in bliss when Byleth went to scratch at its ears.
“You’re a beautiful kitty, aren’t you? Yes you are,” Byleth cooed, feeling herself grin when the cat started to relax in her lap. When was the last time someone petted this cat instead of chasing it?
She ran her hand down the length of the cat’s back, making sure to scratch at the base of its tail. The gentle rumble sounding from the cat immediately amplified into a full purr, making the mercenary chuckle.
“What are you waitin’ for? Get the key!” one of the townsfolk encouraged, shattering the blissful bubble that had enveloped them.
Byleth felt the cat tense up again and she frowned. Giving the cat one last pat, Byleth lifted it off her lap.
The cat turned about, fixing her with a curious tilt of its head.
“Go on,” Byleth urged gently, “get a head start while you can.”
Finally, the cat sprinted away, much to the collective chagrin of the citizens who soon took off after it.
Byleth’s gaze followed after the retreating feline before heaving herself up from the ground. She brushed at her clothes, shaking off the dirt while making her way back towards her travel pack.
“Why’d you do that?” the boy from earlier asked. “You coulda grabbed the key.”
The mercenary shrugged. “I thought the cat was cute, that’s good enough for me. Can you point me in the direction of the inn?”
The boy blinked, caught off guard by the sharp change in topic. But he pointed her the way anyway.
One of the perks of arriving at a town with a festival or some sort of special occasion was the likelihood that the inns and taverns would be empty or too caught up in the celebrations to pay a traveler like her any mind.
The innkeeper, a woman with long wavy brunette hair and striking emerald eyes greeted her with a warm smile from her spot behind the long counter. “Well, I didn’t expect to see anyone here on a day like this. What brings you to Remire, stranger?”
Byleth pulled up a chair across at the counter and sat down with a relieved sigh. “Just passing through.”
“You picked a good day,” the innkeeper remarked as she placed a mug of water in front of Byleth before sticking out a hand. “Dorothea.”
The mercenary returned the gesture. “Byleth. This town has a very interesting tradition. How did it start?”
“Oh you know, for the same reason many legends begin: the human desire for things they can only dream of,” came the wistful answer.
Byleth hummed, remembering the boy from earlier mentioning that the reward for catching the cat was a wish. Who was this woman? How does she grant wishes? she wondered.
“How long has this been going on?”
Dorothea tilted her head back, one eye squinted as she thought. “About four or five years now?”
“Does this wish-granting woman ever come into town?”
“Only a handful of times. She comes at dawn before the streets get too busy. I’ve seen her cat more often than her to be honest.”
She could respect that.
In a town so lively that the people are willing to spend a week pursuing a cat, the woman sounded like a whole other world away in comparison.
“The cat... Does it have a name?”
“Huh. I don’t get many inquiries about the cat herself.”
“The cat is a she?” Byleth made a note of that.
“I’ve been taken to calling her Edie.” Dorothea leaned over the counter, propping her chin on her palm with an amused grin. “You care an awful lot about this little tradition for someone ‘just passing through.’ How long do you plan on staying, by the way, Miss Byleth?”
She shrugged. “A day. Maybe two. Depends on how well I’m doing on funds.”
Dorothea tapped her temple with a wink. “Well, you don’t have to look far for some work around here. The butcher pays well for any meat brought to him; the baker always appreciates having an extra hand to make the morning batches, the list goes on.”
Byleth recalled a lake she passed by when she first arrived. That sounds like as good a place to start as any. She’ll start at dawn.
“Thank you, Dorothea. How much for a room here?”
***
Mourning doves sang from their perches in the trees as Byleth assembled her fishing rod. She casted her line and sat down, listening to the soft ripples of the lake lapping at the dock. Her head fell back as she breathed in the cool early morning air.
Her eyes locked on to the bobber as a faint shadow of a fish surfaced near it. Her grip tightened around her rod in anticipation.
“Mrow?”
She jumped and whirled her attention to the source of the noise. “Oh, it’s you.”
The white cat from the town square yesterday had sat herself beside her and stared up at her with those piercing violet eyes. How did she manage to sneak up so close to her?
“I was told your name was Edie.”
The cat’s ear flicked. “Mrow.”
“I think it’s cute,” she complimented. “I’m Byleth.”
She felt a tug on her line. On instinct she worked to reel in her catch. Edie reared back on her haunches with her tail poofed in surprise.
After a few moments of struggle, the fish splashed up from the water and flopped onto the dock at Byleth’s feet. A black bass, Byleth surmised, and a decent sized one at that.
The cat stepped closer and pawed at it tentatively. When the fish thrashed once more, she jumped away with a hiss.
Byleth chuckled and gave the feline a soothing pat while using her free hand to dump the fresh catch into the bucket. “There, now it can’t bother you,” she said.
Edie eyed the bucket warily, but the continued petting was like magic and she plopped down onto the dock while purring loudly. Though, it didn’t drown out the sound of the key around her neck clinking against the wood.
Byleth’s eyes fell onto it, causing her hand to slow its strokes against the cat’s soft white fur. It would be so easy to take the key. If it’s true that Edie’s owner can grant wishes... But what would Byleth wish for?
Noticing the lack of pats, Edie meowed at her in protest.
The mercenary snapped herself out of her thoughts and scratched beneath the cat’s chin. “As nice as it would be to keep petting you, Pretty, I need to catch more than just one fish if I’m gonna have enough money to survive until my next job.”
Edie only tilted its head in response, almost looking like it was asking a question, but that could easily just be Byleth’s imagination.
“You can stay if you want, I don’t mind,” she answered the nonexistent inquiry anyway. “I don’t usually have company when I fish,” she mused to herself.
“Mrow.” The cat stood up to paw at Byleth’s leg before settling down to sit beside her, fixing her gaze out towards the water.
Byleth smiled and scratched the cat’s ears one last time before casting out her line once more. “I’ll take that as a yes. I’ll catch something for you to take home, how’s that sound?”
After some hours spent at the lake, Byleth’s bucket was teeming with fish and Edie trotting alongside her as she headed back towards Remire. Just as she promised, she gave her a fish and it hung limply from the feline’s mouth.
It was a cute sight and the mercenary just wanted to scoop the cat into her arms. But she didn’t want to push her luck and break the cat’s trust so soon after meeting it.
“Are you going to take it to your owner?” she asked it as the town loomed closer into view. She assumed that she and Edie would part ways before reaching it. Holding a fish would make it hard to get away from the folks trying to catch her, no doubt.
“Mrrp,” came Edie’s muffled reply.
“Let me know if she enjoys it then,” Byleth said. “Does she know how to cook? Maybe we can swap recipes. I know a good way to prepare that fish you have. Here, I can write it down for you.”
Byleth set down the bucket and pulled out a scrap piece of paper she had torn from an old wanted poster, and dug out what was left of her charcoal stick. She knelt down and, from memory, wrote down the recipe against her thigh before rolling it into a scroll.
“Uh... how should I...?” Byleth glanced about the cat, trying to figure out how it would carry both the fish and the note.
Seeing this, Edie released the fish and craned her neck to expose the lavender ribbon around her neck.
“Ha. Pretty and smart. A girl after my heart, aren’t you,” Byleth joked and slipped the rolled paper under the ribbon.
“There you go. Hopefully it’ll stay until you get home.”
Edie picked up the fish and was about to walk away.
But she stopped for a moment before turning back to headbutt the mercenary’s calf.
“See you around, Edie,” Byleth said with a faint trace of a chuckle in her voice and watched the cat finally take her leave.
Now alone once more, Byleth set off to find the butcher. It didn’t take long with the help of the few townsfolk who were awake at the early hour.
The bell at the door jingled sweetly to announce her arrival.
“Be right there!” someone jovially called out from the back room. A few seconds later, a man with sweeping brown hair and a thin mustache appeared and their business conducted. The man, who introduced himself as Alois, commended her for her generous selection of fish.
As he weighed the fish and added up the payment, he dove into several stories of his tireless attempts to fish, lamenting his failures while also expressing an enthusiasm towards the hobby that she hadn’t seen in a long time. She’s sure that had she been anyone else, his storytelling would fall on deaf ears. But she liked that he wasn’t just making small talk with her, so she chimed in with questions and comments of her own.
In the end, he paid a comfortable sum of gold for her haul and even offered to fillet one of the basses for her lunch.
“I heard that you caught the cat the other day,” Alois said, his hands busy with wrapping her fillet.
The mercenary nodded.
“And you didn’t take the wish. I don’t think you know what it is you let slip through your hands, my friend.”
“I’ve learned that things don’t come to you just by wishing for it.”
“Ah, but where’s the fun in that?” he mused. “Divulging in little fantasies like making wishes from time to time is what keeps us going. I dare say that I wouldn’t have met my wife if I turned out as much of a stick-in-the-mud as my father.” He chuckled to himself. “But I will admit that there is a time and place for it, and the world isn’t so forgiving of those having rose-colored lenses. I’ve lived a life on the road myself, you know.” He handed her the fillet.
“What for?” she wondered, taking the fish into her hands.
“Well, what else does a young man in his twenties do when he travels? He searches for a purpose—something to ground him in this world he suddenly finds himself inhabiting all alone.”
Byleth’s gaze fell. Her thumb ran over the paper wrap, crinkling it slightly. “And did you find it here?”
Alois laughed, placing his hand on his hip. “Of course! I believe that I find it every day. I love my wife and our beautiful daughter, I live for every moment we’ve shared and for the ones to come in the future. And it doesn’t just stop there, I try new things to spend my time, I meet new people; why, just today I met a stranger who humored me and my fishing stories on what started as a normal day of work. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.”
Byleth hummed thoughtfully, and allowed herself a small smile. “You make it sound so easy.”
“Oh, it’s certainly not,” Alois digressed. “I consider myself fortunate to have arrived where I am and I often need reminders to keep looking at those special somethings that give me a reason to stay. As difficult as it is to admit, it does take time, and living to only survive day to day does reveal harsh realities. Even so, there’s nothing wrong with taking a moment to believe in a little magic.”
Believe in a little magic?
The only magic she could believe in was the ones that shoot out of enemy mages’ hands, and the few occasions where a priest would offer to heal her wounds.
The butcher waved a hand. “Ah, but take what you will from this talk. I best let you go, otherwise you’d be stuck here all day. My wife can testify that I’ve talked the ears off customers more often than I care to admit.”
Byleth offered him a smile and nodded her head. “Thank you, Alois. I look forward to doing more business before I leave town.”
“Well, you certainly know where to find me, my friend.”
And with that, the mercenary exited the shop and into the Remire streets. The town looked more awake now as its citizens all went about their daily routines. Meanwhile, the mercenary retreated into her thoughts.
The money she earned could easily get her to the next city where hopefully another job will be. She could even leave right now if she wanted to.
But did she?
What does she wish for? Wishing means that she wants something, right? So what does she want?
She wants a nice meal when she’s hungry and a place to sleep every night... but not much else. She wasn’t someone who ‘wants’ often, at least not in abstract terms. Life spent always on the move didn’t have room for that.
While she walked aimlessly, Byleth’s ears perked at the sound of thundering footfalls. A crowd’s worth of them. She caught sight of a familiar fluff of white and glittering silver around its neck, sprinting down the street across from her. As expected, half a dozen people gave chase.
Edie must’ve sensed another pair of eyes on her and she turned in Byleth’s direction. In the brief moment they met gazes, Byleth offered the cat a short wave, as if she were greeting an acquaintance rather than a cat. The chase continued on, leaving the streets quiet once more save for the few people milling about, unfazed by what had just occurred.
“A whole week of this, huh?” Byleth uttered to herself, feeling a short chuckle bubble in her throat. “Wonder what’ll happen.”
It wouldn’t hurt to find out, would it? She can leave when it’s finished.
***
For the remainder of the week, Byleth fell into a routine of getting up at dawn to fish, talking with Alois as he gave her payment for the haul, exploring the town some more and, taking Dorothea’s advice, asked around for tasks to do for the townsfolk for a little bit of gold. By Friday, her name had made its rounds in Remire, though being the stranger who caught the cat on her first try contributed to her reputation around the town. But nonetheless, she liked hearing her name being used by other people that weren’t employers or herself, and in return she learned the names of the people she worked for.
As the days went by, she would catch a glimpse at the ongoing chase for Edie and her wish-granting owner. So far no one had come remotely close to breaking the cat’s stride, let alone even laying hands on her or the key. Though Byleth gave credit for the growing creativity in how the townsfolk went about their attempts. There were days when boxes fell from rooftops to trap the cat or the people combined forces to get the cat down a specific alleyway to corner it.
Oftentimes, Byleth stood outside of the bakery, enjoying her newfound love for saghert and cream, just to wait for Edie’s streak of white fur to blur by after having made her umpteenth escape.
It was sort of comforting having a reliable layout of how she spent her day. There was no urgency to scour for a safe spot for her camp, or hunting on an empty stomach, or strangers to be wary of at every corner.
“So much for staying just a couple days, huh?” Dorothea teased her on the sixth day she paid for her room.
The mercenary didn’t know what to say to that. Instead she slid the payment over the counter and retreated into her room for the remainder of the afternoon. Dorothea later apologized for offending her, but Byleth was hardly slighted by the innkeeper’s remark. In reality, she was starting to like staying here.
“Would it be okay if I did?” she asked the next morning at the lake. Her fishing rod was loose in her grip and Edie at her side, dutifully watching over the dark water. At the question, the cat flicked her violet gaze up at the woman. Byleth didn’t want to think about how this was likely their last morning they would spend together. It was the last day of the contest and with it concluded, Edie would return to her reclusive owner and Byleth would finally depart from Remire.
“I mean, would it be okay if I actually made a life here? Sure, I’ve been doing fine this week, but is this something I can do for the rest of my life?” Byleth continued to rant, not caring that her voice was repelling any fish away from her hook.
She drew a breath, letting wistfulness seep into her next words. “My father talked about wanting to live a quiet life once. He wanted it with my mother more than anything, just a little plot of land with a cottage and some horses, he said. But then she died giving birth to me. After that, being a merc was the only thing he could do. Maybe he thought that a life like that wouldn’t feel right without her, so he just kept moving until he forgot how to sit still. He’s gone now... has been for a while.”
A long silence followed. At this point, Byleth couldn’t care less about the fish that was tugging on her line.
Edie meowed softly, as if coaxing her to talk more about him.
So she did. She never had before, yet she somehow knew where to start.
She talked about how he taught her how to fish and hunt, how to build a campfire from even the smallest leaves and twigs, and how to fight. She recited as best she could the stories he told her around their meager campfire to help distract her from the biting chill around them. And all the while, Edie listened. In the back of her mind, she wondered what she might look like to a stranger passing by. A woman on a fishing dock telling her whole life story to a cat as if they were best of friends.
If it were possible, Byleth could’ve gone on for hours. But somewhere along the way, she ran out of words to say and her vision had gone blurry. She wiped her eyes with the palm of her hand and saw it come away wet with tears. She was crying?
It’s been so long since she’s ever thought about her father, let alone reminisce about their times together. It never truly sunk in just how lonely she’s been all these years.
Edie meowed in concern, rubbing her face against her knee in comfort.
With a heavy sigh, Byleth reeled in her line and set the rod aside to lean back one hand with the other petting Edie, craning her neck towards the pale pink sky as if everything she needed to know would be written in the wisping clouds.
“I guess I took after him, huh?” Byleth choked around the flow of tears. “I don’t think I know how to sit still either. But I think I want to. I think if he was still around he’d tell me to at least try if it made me happy.”
Edie curled into her hip while releasing a loud purr as her eyes slowly blinked shut. Byleth continued to card her fingers through her warm fur, feeling the soothing rumble beneath her fingertips and travel up her arm.
“You’re gonna make me fall asleep looking like that,” the mercenary reprimanded in an uncharacteristically soft voice.
If Edie understood her, she gave no indication and continued her lullaby.
Eventually, Byleth exhaled the tension in her shoulders and laid flat on her back. Her eyes traced patterns in the clouds floating overhead until they gradually grew heavier and heavier. Before she knew it, they fell closed and she felt herself drifting off to the sound of the ever present lapping lake water and the reverb of Edie’s purring.
When she woke up, the sun had risen high in the sky, replacing the pale pink morning with a blue early afternoon. Blinking blurrily, she was met with familiar violet eyes. Edie sat over her, still purring but much softer and barely noticeable had it not been for the short space between them. It was almost enough to lull the mercenary back to sleep.
“Hi, Pretty,” Byleth greeted groggily and petted Edie’s soft head, giving her a scratch at the ears for good measure.
Edie ducked her head away, making her fingertips graze over the silver key around her neck.
Byleth recoiled as if the key was fresh off a hot iron. Her heartbeat spiked with fear that Edie would think that it was on purpose. But before her thoughts could go further into her panic, Edie stepped closer so that the cold metal of the key was pressed firmly against her index finger.
“You... want me to take it?” Byleth asked, uncertainty and disbelief lacing her voice.
Edie answered with another nudge against her finger.
Byleth swallowed. And she gingerly pulled the silver key and lavender ribbon up over Edie’s head.
The cat looked so bare without the little splash of color, but she seemed to hardly mind as she shook her head and the fur at her neck fluffed up.
She turned the key in her hand, admiring the glimmer of sunlight reflecting off what looked to be a double-headed eagle at the bow and the delicate flowers wrapped around the key’s stem. A family seal, Byleth guessed.
“Now what?”
“Mrow.” Edie scampered off suddenly, and Byleth quickly rolled onto her stomach to keep the cat in her line of sight. Edie turned her head to meow at her again while prancing in place before taking off towards the woods.
Shoving herself up to stand, Byleth followed after the cat. They ran deeper into the forests and it was then that Byleth was thankful for Edie’s stark white fur to act as her guide.
Breaking through the treeline, Byleth found herself stumbling into a meadow. Wildflowers and grass that came up to her knees spanned the landscape, and, at its center, stood a small cottage. She sucked in a breath. Was this...?
The tall grass rustled as Edie continued towards the cottage, leaving Byleth to gawk and take slow, reluctant steps forward. As she drew closer, she admired the healthy growth of herbs that filled the front yard along with rows of red carnations. A painting easel with a half finished depiction of the meadow at sunset was set up at the corner of the porch beside a swing bench that swayed in the gentle wind.
“Edie?” she called out when she noticed that the cat had gone missing.
She climbed the steps onto the porch, feeling the wood creak underfoot as she glanced about for any sign of the white cat. But the only thing that awaited her was a simple door with a silver knob and keyhole.
At the sight of the keyhole, an idea came to her and she pulled the key out from her pocket. Her fingers shook as she inserted the key and twisted. The door unlocked with a click.
Is this what she was supposed to do? Was it technically breaking and entering if she was given the key to the cottage?
The door squealed open, revealing a well lived in home. More paintings with varying progresses leaned against walls, vases of flowers stood near windows, and books of art and art supplies littered practically every flat surface. It was quiet too. If it wasn’t for the tea kettle heating on the stovetop in the kitchen, she’d assume that no one was home.
There was a piece of paper tacked up on the wall, a list of some sort from the looks of it. Upon closer inspection, Byleth recognized that it was the fish recipe she gave Edie earlier that week. Somehow, the thought of the woman keeping it was endearing and set off a warmth in her chest.
“Hello?” Byleth hesitantly called out.
“In here,” a woman’s voice answered back from a room in the back of the cottage.
She followed the voice, walking further into the house to finally meet the owner of the home. It was there that she saw a woman seated in an armchair with a book in her lap.
“Hello,” the woman greeted Byleth with a friendly smile. Her light brown hair was worn loose and contrasted against her red and white, collared dress.
Byleth was about to return the greeting, but the words died in her throat. Her gaze had flicked to the woman’s hair, more specifically her hair accessory that hung just above one ear. A lavender ribbon.
She looked at the key’s ribbon in her hand and the ribbon in the woman’s hair. Then the sunlight spilling from the window caught the woman’s eyes, revealing that they were a bright violet. Byleth knew nothing of poetry or of literary prose to describe them, but she knew that they were beautiful, she was beautiful. Breathtaking even.
And she knew those eyes.
“Edie?” she breathed.
The woman laughed nervously and tucked an invisible lock of hair behind her ear. “It’s Edelgard actually.” She gestured to the chair across from her. “Dorothea has an affinity for nicknames.”
“Edelgard...” Byleth parroted as she sunk into the proffered seat. “You can turn into a cat?”
“Only for the contest as I am expected to carry it out every year. I’m sorry that I deceived you, Byleth,” Edelgard bowed her head.
“I don’t feel deceived, I'm just... surprised,” she reassured. Then she held out the key. “You let me take it.”
Edelgard nodded. “Hearing you speak of your life, your father, your indecision of whether or not to stay here... I want to help. And this is the one way I know how.” She clasped her hands together in her lap and fixed Byleth with a determined stare. “If you’ll let me, I can grant you whatever you want. Just name it.” Edelgard cemented.
Byleth said nothing, falling back into the chair with a sharp exhale of disbelief. This must be a dream. She’ll wake up and be back at the dock with Edie sleeping next to her. But when she pinched her arm, she was still inside the cottage of the infamous wish-granting woman she had unknowingly spent all week with.
“Anything?”
“Yes,” came the eager confirmation.
Byleth paused to think, looking more pensive than Edelgard had ever seen her in their short time together. It was understandable of course, after all this was a rare opportunity and required careful consideration.
Then the mercenary sat forward, a small, shy smile pulling at the corner of her lips. Edelgard leaned forward as well, giving the woman her full attention.
“I haven’t eaten anything yet. I’d like it if you could maybe join me for lunch?” Byleth said.
There was a moment of shocked silence. Edelgard’s mouth fell open.
She sputtered an incredulous laugh. “ That’s your wish? I could grant you money for property, or even a job within the town or even the next city over! Why would you wish for something so... mundane?”
“Mundane? Don’t say that about my fishing companion, I really like her company,” Byleth protested.
Edelgard sighed. “I’m sorry. I enjoy your company as well, Byleth, but in all seriousness I truly believe that your wish can be better spent.”
“I just learned that you know all about me and I don’t know anything about you aside from you being able to turn into a cat and that you like watching me fish. I don’t think I’m wasting anything if I want to keep spending time with you and learn more.”
Edelgard’s cheeks pinked and her throat tightened. “I-I see,” she croaked. She cleared her throat. “Even so, I don’t want you to regret your decision. I can only grant one wish to you. Are you sure this is what you want?”
Byleth nodded without hesitation. “I’ll even cook. I have more recipes for fish to share if you’d like.”
The woman buried her face in her hand, smiling like a fool at how this exchange had derailed so completely from how she envisioned it. “Yes that sounds lovely, Byleth. I shall grant your wish.”
It required no magic on her part, no incantations or potion brewing. Instead, all it took was for the beaming mercenary to shoot up from her chair with a hand held out to Edelgard. They returned to the lake to catch their lunch and returned to the cottage for the meal proper.
Byleth relished in the back and forth of the conversation between them while they cooked and sat down to eat. It felt easy and calming, and she smiled fondly at the woman while she went into another story.
She could have wished for money, for property, for a steady job in Remire—all of which would be the step to finally learning how to finally sit still, but there was something more important she had come to want in her time in this town. And as Edelgard giggled at a particularly bad joke she heard from Alois, Byleth felt the Want cement itself within her along with the memory of the woman’s eyes crinkling with mirth and radiant joy that made her heart so full.
She wanted a reason to stay.