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A/N: This is a surprise gift for BlackEagleFan, one of the best Edelthea and Dorothea-centric writers out there and someone whom I’ve gotten to know and bond over Edelthea! Your fics always make my days, so I thank you for them.
Stress consumes Edelgard’s entire being.
That is to be expected of the emperor; she’d be a terrible one to never stress. But her woes have nothing to do with the political landscape of Adrestia, Fódlan, or its neighbours. These worries are personal, outside what her role entails. It causes her head to pound endlessly, a drum that is beaten by the drumsticks that is stress, dinning her ears, akin to being on the battlefield against an overwhelming backdrop.
Adopting a child is quite the decision...
Made more unbearable by her health prospects.
Atop her horse trotting towards her cottage home outside Enbarr in the woods her knuckles ache with how she firmly grips the reins. Through gritted teeth she sucks in a deep breath, hoping it’ll do something. She bites down on her lips, but it doesn’t distract her thoughts. The musing of whether to adopt or not has been bothering her for the past three days. Her mind replays the check-up and conversation she had with her private physicist, Manuela, and the Head Crest Researcher, Linhardt, regarding how long she has left and if she can adopt a child knowing she only has a few years. Even though Linhardt insisted that he’ll eventually cure her and Lysithea she bluntly spoke that if there is none then to be frank.
Ever blunt Linhardt admitted that if she adopts then the child will only know her for a maximum five years. That is the likeliest estimate. Manuela said that she doesn’t know what is the best decision. But, considering she has been running an orphanage for the past two years since the war ended, if she and Dorothea decides to adopt then she will accept it with open arms.
Curses her eyes are flickering. She mustn’t become too consumed in this whirlpool of melancholia and frustration. Take a deep breath. Hold it. Exhale now, slowly. All right, she has calmed herself. In hindsight, she argues, the answer should be obvious. She shouldn’t adopt for when she will die so soon she will traumatise her child. It is too cruel, and utterly selfish if she does adopt. The child should be adopted by a couple who can take care of them for decades.
Yet even though she tells herself this over and over, time after time, ever trying to be rational, she feels so… forlornly dissatisfied. As far back as she can remember the prospect of being a mother excited her beyond comprehension. After the experimentations and swearing to change Fódlan through war she abandoned the notion, believing to be undeserving to take care of a child. Wouldn’t want the child to suffocate or slip in her bloodstained hands… But ever since she and Dorothea decided to marry the idea of becoming a mother seemingly came back from the dead.
She has spoken to Dorothea that she should leave her, for the same reasons why she is reluctant to adopt. Fall in love with someone else, she had begged Dorothea, so that her heart doesn’t break beyond repair when she dies in a few years. You deserve a partner to spend a lifetime with. But Dorothea refuses to leave her. No matter how many times she has pushed her she stands her ground. She said that if (like it isn’t a certainty, Edelgard thinks ruefully…) that time comes then she will grieve. If she dies then she’ll find love again. But that is to be seen, Dorothea insisted; instead picture what an ideal future together looks like.
Tears sting her eyes.
Sentimental over her wife, that’s nothing new.
Edelgard wipes her tears as her horse arrives at the cottage. Fortunately her wife is not outside, otherwise she would have noticed her crying. Not that Dorothea hasn’t seen her cry before: the first time in so long she cried, in front of her when explaining how she got her scars. But she hates worrying her, for she has suffered a lot throughout her life and now has found stability and happiness (though it is fleeting—enough with the self-pitying—!) with her and their friends. She would never deny Dorothea happiness.
To leave the child and Dorothea… she’d never forgive herself…
Getting off her horse and closing the pen she then makes her way into the cottage. Upon entering she smells something sweet. Her eyes light up in delight. Saghert and cream! From the kitchen Dorothea appears, her hair tied in a ponytail, a bowl of cream in one hand and the spoon in the other. One of her old lilac ribbons is used in keeping Dorothea’s hair tied up. Edelgard had said goodbye to any semblance of life before becoming emperor, yet had kept her ribbons as a reminder of her siblings. Then one day Dorothea found them and Edelgard decided then and there to give her one as a symbol of their bond.
When her wife spots her, her green eyes gleam and an adoringly pleased smile adorns her face. Dorothea is so radiant when she looks at her like this, when she is truly happy and content and with someone that loves her for being her. All those suitors who lusted for her looks missed the true beauty: her as a person.
“Edie!” Dorothea greets, moving towards her to give her a kiss.
When their lips meet the worries of adoption reignite in Edelgard, yet she maintains composure when they pull away. Best not to discuss adoption when the answer is obvious. The time will come, with how Dorothea assists the orphans at Manuela’s orphanage during days she’s not performing at the opera and enjoying the time spent there, but now is not the time.
“Punctual as always!” Dorothea remarks. She extends the spoon for her to try the cream. Naturally Edelgard does so without hesitation. “Good?”
“You’ve come a long way in cooking!” Edelgard states, a grin of pearly whites spreading on her face at her wife’s faux reaction of feeling insulted.
“Says the girl who nearly ruined our kitchen table by trying to cut carrots with her axe—with an axe!—just last week,” Dorothea utters, now being the one to smirk when Edelgard’s face drops and an embarrassed pink blush paints her cheeks.
“It seemed practical at the time!”
Dorothea playfully rolls her eyes. She then taps the spoon onto her nose, bestowing it dabbed cream, and then lets out a dramatic gasp. “Goodness Edie: such a messy eater! Let me clean that for you.”
Edelgard twitches her nose and giggles as her wife chastely kisses the cream off her nose. Done Dorothea then ushers her to sit down at the table while she splays the cream on the saghert. Sitting down Edelgard’s mind swings back and forth between feeling giddy of their playfulness to feeling nauseously stressed, the oxymoronic mix of emotions causing her head to pound and for her throat to feel clogged.
Her giddiness explodes, wiping away the anxiety, when Dorothea brings forth the saghert and cream and joins her at the table. Unable to help herself the so-called unwavering and unable-to-be-tempted emperor wolfs down her meal. It is delicious, reminiscent of her mother’s baking. Is it wrong for her to ponder if Dorothea has attempted this dish multiple times today until she perfected it?
When she finishes she looks up and smiles ear to ear. “Thank you for the treat, my love.” She then cocks her head to the side in puzzled amusement. “But I must ask: what is the special occasion?”
A jarring solemn expression crosses Dorothea’s face, the weightiness of some issue spreading to Edelgard. “You seemed stressed as of lately.”
Edelgard’s entire face and posture drops.
Has she… been so obvious?
She inhales through her nose. Her figure is petrified into a tense position. Really she shouldn’t be so surprised. Dorothea is a master at reading people, having lived on the streets seeing the ugliest side to humanity, having dated many throughout her life, and being in the opera having seen backstabbers go against her and others. She feels utterly exposed, with how those forest eyes beseech her to be open to her, a prisoner awaiting her execution. There is no way she can brush aside her concerns, nor can she lie her way out of this. Dorothea knows her too well. Curses she thought she could brush aside her worries for another time.
But when would be the right time?
Be realistic: you only wanted to delay it forever until she brought it up.
Her fingers drum against the table, to both soothe her mind and to carefully ponder her words. This feels like an interrogation, only this time she is the one being interrogated. Yet that intense nakedness she feels starts to wither when Dorothea leans forward to take her hand and rub it. She looks down at their joined hands. Their ruby and amethyst rings cling together. Such a simple touch of metallic objects propels her to speak of the issue.
“I was thinking about whether I have the right to adopt a child or not, due to my health…”
Dorothea’s grip tightens against her hand. When Edelgard musters the courage to look up she notes the sympathetic and understanding gaze in her wife’s look. Such an expression almost overwhelms her to look away (really, even though she has killed and seen rotten bodies she now feels overwhelmed?). But ever resolute she keeps Dorothea’s gaze.
“I once asked you how you would feel about raising a child, and you said that you would love to,” she continues, and curses her lips are quivering over her upcoming words.
Her voice clogs in her throat. She opens her mouth but only a strangled noise escapes her. Once again Dorothea rubs her hands, her fingers tenderly caressing her surgical scars. She has rubbed her hand’s scars many times, ever since she opened to her about the experimentations, to soothe her into being open. When she shakily exhales the spell of silence is broken, and so she continues.
“But I… Even if I want to I can’t adopt knowing that when I die in just a few years I will be leaving you and the child alone...!”
She finds herself underwater, with how her vision blurs and her ears ring. Her teeth grit so firmly that her jaw aches. Her tongue is impossibly dry. In Dorothea’s grip her hand shakes. Her heart is beating too fast and hard—it’s getting too overwhelming. Every instinct within her tells her to bolt out, far from here and far from Dorothea.
Tentatively Dorothea leans forward and kisses the tears running down her cheeks. Each kiss feels as if she is being resuscitated back to life. Once all the tears are kissed away Dorothea leans back and cups her cheek. Edelgard leans into her palm and closes her eyes to bask in the serene touch. All she wants to do is drop the topic, use a spell, though there is none, to make Dorothea forget, and burry it in a deep unreachable hole in the recesses of her mind.
“My Edie…” Dorothea speaks, her tone ever loving yet with a stern edge that demands she listens to every word she has to say. Edelgard swallows, yet manages to open her eyes and stare at her. “You know how you keep insisting I leave you because you will die soon so I don’t suffer heartache?”
Usually that topic upsets and enrages Dorothea to the point of being quiet around her so she can silently fume. Sometimes she would storm off to be left alone after Edelgard kept desperately pushing and insisting. But now she appears thoughtful, wanting to showcase how much she loves her with her faults and all.
“My answer is always no, and you know why?” Edelgard opens her mouth to finish with ‘because I love you’, but notes the wisdom in her wife’s eyes and thus decides to be silent. “Because I believe you deserve happiness, and that you shouldn’t live the rest of your remaining years alone when you can use and share that time with me and our friends.”
Edelgard eyes her with her mouth slightly agape. Even though she has been told these similar words before she will never be untouched. They are truthful, for Dorothea knows she only demands honesty, and loving, for Dorothea cherishes their relationship.
Dorothea pulls her hand away and rests her hands in her lap. There is a rueful smile and melancholic glint in her eyes. “I must admit I too am adamant of adopting, not because of your health but because I…”
Now it is her wife’s turn to appear exposed and a sinner going to confess their crimes. This is new. Solicitously Edelgard leans forward to rest her hands atop Dorothea’s clenched ones. Her lilac eyes are soft, impossibly so is what her enemies would think, yet ever loving and considerate with her beloved and her friends.
“…I fear that if I return to the streets I would now have to take care of a child,” Dorothea whispers hoarsely; had Edelgard not leaned in she wouldn’t have heard her. Tears consume forest eyes, and her lips quiver uncontrollably. “And I… if I died on the streets I’d leave that child alone, just like what happened to my mo—!”
Dorothea weeps and droops her head so her hair curtains her face. No doubt, having known her for years, she feels guilty of feeling sombre when she ‘should be’ comforting her. Yet Edelgard doesn’t feel like her troubles are ignored. She sits silently to mull over a revelation.
So even Dorothea has her own personal concerns.
Edelgard’s face softens upon realising she is not alone in feeling conflicted. It never occurred to her that Dorothea’s past would affect her views on raising a child. In hindsight it should have been obvious. But Dorothea’s fears are irrational, and Edelgard will remind her of that. Delicately she tucks those brown locks away from her wife’s face. Eventually Dorothea looks up at her with those teary eyes and snotty nose. Once upon a time Dorothea would have darkly jested that no suitor likes a woman that cries like this; it makes her hideous, unlike ‘true feminine’ crying seen in opera plays.
“That will never happen,” Edelgard stresses, her words ever moving like her greatest speeches and with a finality that would shut the harshest cynics.
“Every person who contributed to the war has been ensured stability for the rest of their lives,” she reminds her: this is a law, not some wishful words to cheer Dorothea. She hopes financial stability will spread to others as well.
“When I die—” there is that familiar look of Dorothea warning her that she doesn’t know for certain, so she corrects herself, “If I die you will have support. Not just from the system but also from our friends.”
“You will never ever be on the streets again, Dorothea.”
Dorothea observes her face for any signs of bluffing. Yet she knows better, knows that she is never one to mince words or say something to make another better. She sniffs a few more times, and then a wonderful smile blooms across her face.
“So if we decide to adopt then our child would have a loving home.”
Edelgard purses her lips as she mulls over that comment and ponders her next choice of words. Her eyes turn forlorn once again, and she almost lets go of Dorothea’s hands from loosening her posture.
“Do you think it would be ‘kind’ of me to adopt a child, knowing that there may be a couple in which they will both live long and see their child grow?”
Her question comes out as a quiet whisper, a confession to a parent that they did something wrong. It is so unlike her to be this vulnerable, even amongst her friends, but with Dorothea it comes off so disturbingly easy. Curses, she still thinks of being too open with someone as disturbing. Being the emperor, even if she will abdicate soon, has made her question every person she speaks with. Such habits will take time to break from. But it is getting easier with her wife.
Dorothea clicks her tongue and darts her eyes away for a brief moment. “I admit I don’t know if there is a ‘right’ answer,” she confesses. Once again Edelgard appreciates her wife’s honesty.
Dorothea’s eyes then creek fondly with a smile to match. It’s like she never burst into tears moments ago. Her voice comes out so soft, putting velvet to shame: “But what I do know is that any child would be lucky to have you as their mother.”
Those words hit Edelgard like a carriage. Her eyes are at their widest, her mouth seemingly dislocated, and her brows so high they seem to break the limits of the human face. She understands the implication. It would be best to adopt a child, even if she is to die in a few years time, and spend that remaining time loving them, then to never adopt in the first place. It would be best to adopt a child into a family with two loving parents, where even if she dies young that child has one other parent to care for them and that they loved every moment with her. Perhaps there will be a cure to her condition.
Is it wrong to hope?
Her brows furrow. She still needs more time to think about it. But now she can openly discuss these matters with her wife. Even if she doesn’t choose to adopt she can gladly assist at the orphanage once she abdicates. Maybe she doesn’t have much time, but she doesn’t wish to rush. Yet through Dorothea’s fears she is reminded that her wife has friends that will gladly support her and their child. When—if—she dies soon then naturally Dorothea will grieve, but she is so extremely strong and has support so she will move on. Someone else will fall for her, for who wouldn’t fall for Dorothea Arnault, and thus Dorothea will find and have love again. Even if a child is involved Dorothea and the child’s uncles and auntie Black Eagles will support their grief.
She won’t be abandoning Dorothea or their child. The child would have a large loving and supporting family.
But still… she needs time.
“You would make for a wonderful mother too, my love,” Edelgard utters, affection dripping in every word, a large and loving smile adorning her face. “And you have the experience: after all you act like one at the orphanage.”
“And you have years of experience being the Mother Eagle of the Black Eagles,” Dorothea comments, and smirks at how flustered her wife gets over the implication of being overly doting.
Dorothea rubs her hands and looks at her with a silent oath in her eyes. “But let’s take our time with this decision. I would love to raise a child with you, but only if we both agree to. I will hold nothing against you if you say no, Edie.”
“Thank you, my love,” Edelgard utters with her entire soul being openly vulnerable and grateful to her. She raises her wife’s ringed hand and kisses the knuckles and the ring. “Thank you…”
No matter the decision they have each other. Perhaps a decision will happen soon after she abdicates, or maybe in a year time, or if she is cured of her Twin Crests. Maybe the two will change their minds many times over. Once they are comfortable enough they may even discuss and hear the opinions of their found family, the Black Eagles. All will be well.
“But if we do adopt then I will be the one to name our child.”
Edelgard blinks stupidly at Dorothea and splutters, “Why is that?”
There is a deadpan expression on her wife’s face. “Edie, my love: Twin Jewels? Black Eagles Strike Force? You are utterly hopeless.”
A/N: I hoped you enjoyed domestic Edelthea, for you love their understanding and support of each other.