Chapter Text
Bells tomed their sullen chime as the rising sun shone on their golden domes. The gonging sound resonated from a mountainous cathedral, sending white-winged doves soaring into the pastel sky. Their feathers fell like snow onto the cobblestone walkways that snaked through the famed monastery, Garreg Mach. All the glory of the goddess was held here for the last millennium, within the smooth stone walls and stained glass.
At least, that was what Edelgard was told. She stood at the footsteps of Garreg Mach, daring to be a skeptic. Seeing the monastery in the flesh was humbling, to say the least. Even as the heir to the Adestrian Empire, with roots ensnared in vast palace walls and ornate courtyards, she was taken by the majesty and grandeur of the holy site. It was like nothing she had seen before. She was careful to swallow her awe as a slew of footsteps approached her from behind.
Turning, Edelgard’s scarlet cape waved at the incoming students. Nobles and commoners alike were allowed to seek tutelage at Garreg Mach’s Officers Academy, and the students entered in droves. Edelgard meticulously plucked out every face in the crowd . Noble, his father owns land in the Kingdom. Commoner, she has calluses on her palms... probably a blacksmith’s daughter. Another noble from the Kingdom—a duke’s daughter—was keen on wooing yet another blueblood that was bent on looking anywhere but in her direction. He would never look at Edelgard, though. No one simply looked at Edelgard; they stared openly and then shied away whenever she met their prying eyes. They were all the same, the nobles. They sung the same tune at court, danced the same dances at balls, and all spoke with silver tongues. Edelgard knew she was no exception, but that did not stop her from appreciating the commoners more. They came from vastly different lives; no commoner was alike, yet… they were considered just that… “common.” Some could be bakers or priests or blacksmiths or mercenaries—
Edelgard’s eyes widened.
Within all the commotion of the influx of students, one body moved with an aloofness that Edelgard quickly learned to recognize. While she continued to get the shy glances and awed mutterings of passersby, one said nothing, and only gazed forward with pale blue eyes that reminded Edelgard of the summer sky. Her heart fluttered. Those same eyes gazed into her in the moment her life was saved from the onslaught of an axe.
“Edelgard.” She stood a step below her, still gazing with her pale blue eyes. Her face, framed by teal-colored locks, held no smiles nor cheer nor any emotion. “Hello.”
Edelgard blinked, still caught in reminiscing the moment she saved her. The clatter of an axe against a blade sounded again. The sight of the mercenary running towards her, keeping her safe as she stood in harm’s way.
“Byleth,” she greeted, managing to maintain an air of calm despite her frayed nerves. She felt a smile cross her face, small but earnest. “Good morning. How does it feel to stand on the steps of the esteemed Garreg Mach?”
“It feels… overwhelming,” Byleth admitted, staring down at the steps. Her eyes returned to Edelgard again. “But here I am.”
“I trust you will be joining your father within these walls?” Edelgard knew she was prying, but she had greed in her heart. She wanted to know more of her savior with the cold face and distant gaze. After Byleth had saved her, she offered her a career within the Empire; it was the least she could do to settle her debt. If Byleth refused, Edelgard did not know how to repay her.
Byleth said no more, but stepped up to stand beside her. She was regarding the monastery with a guarded expression. It was the same expression she wore during the heat of battle, when the air smelled of blood and was full of screams. Even then, that cool expression of Byleth’s never faltered. Edelgard could not help but wonder what she had to hide. She felt a tug of longing in her chest again.
“I am not sure what I will do here,” Byleth said. Her eyes stole a glance at Edelgard. “There’s much to consider.”
“What are you saying?”
Edelgard was not given an answer. Instead, Byleth walked into the monastery without saying a farewell. She watched the other go in wonder. Something about her was… different. It made unease well up in Edelgard.
“Wow, is she the one you were talking about?” A familiar, gushing voice greeted Edelgard before she got the chance to breathe. She turned to see Dorothea beaming in her direction. “She’s so… mysterious. I saw her walking on her own in the crowd. She moved like a ghost!”
Edelgard placed her hand on her hip, watching Byleth fade into the golden light of Garreg Mach’s courtyard. “Yes. She is the one that saved me.”
“Hm, she’s very beautiful,” Dorothea purred, twirling her finger in her thick brown curls. “I can see why you have taken an interest in her, Edie.”
Blushing, Edelgard started at the comment her friend made. She whirled on her, huffing. “Now that’s too bold to say, Dorothea,” she chided. “I’m merely indebted to her, is all. I owe her my life, and I am grateful for her bravery that day… I don’t know what would have become of me, or the Empire, had she not been there.”
“Of course, it’s not my place to say.” Dorothea dipped her head apologetically, only to give a wink. “But from the sounds of it, your meeting was fated. I’m curious to see what will become of you and this mysterious mercenary in the future.”
Giggling, Dorothea trotted up the steps, waving her farewell to Edelgard. She watched Dorothea go, her face still feeling hot from blushing. Fate? Preposterous! Dorothea was always a hopeless romantic. Edelgard chalked up her friend’s teasing words to her personality. There was nothing more to her thoughts of Byleth than curiosity. Besides, she had more pressing matters weighing her down; she couldn’t be distracted. Her destiny waited on the horizon.
The tumult of her ambition remained in her shadow, following her into the monastery. Edelgard no longer wished to admire the historic majesty of Garreg Mach, not so long as she felt a clawing at her heartstrings. It won’t be long now, she realized. The crown she had yet to bear on her head already felt heavy. It would be a crown of thorns when she finally matured from princess to emperor, if she saw her plans through. Though she knew in her heart it was a feat meant for her, she could not prevent the pain of anxiety sitting on her chest. One would never know she was anxious, however, for she strode with an air of practiced arrogance. Her chin was held high, her steps were sure, and her eyes kept forward. She was to be an emperor. She had no time to trifle with worry, and she certainly had no time for her confusing feelings surrounding the mysterious mercenary, Byleth.
Finally, she stepped into the classroom that would be hers. Draperies of deep scarlet and pure white dawned from the rafters, bearing the dark sigil, her sigil, of the House of Black Eagle. In the classroom, fitted with several red oak desks and adorned with paper, fresh ink, and quills, stood her classmates. The residents of her house were as well-groomed as Edelgard, and they talked amongst each other eagerly for the dawn of upcoming lectures, battles, and masteries.
Asleep at one of the desks, with tousled green hair only barely tamed by the white ribbon tying it back was Lindhardt. At his side, prodding playfully at the end of his ponytail was Caspar. There was never a moment one was not antagonizing the other. It seemed today was Caspar’s turn to initiate the antics.
“Maybe let Lindhardt get his last few naps in,” she suggested. “Once our classes begin at the Academy, he won’t get but a wink.”
Caspar quickly reined in his hands from Lindhart’s hair, smiling bashfully as he rubbed the back of his head. “It’s all in good fun!”
The only one that seemed to be studying was Petra. The heir to Brigid’s throne flipped diligently through a book, muttering and worrying her bottom lip with her teeth between words. She was probably rehearsing Fodlan’s language. As she studied, Dorothea sat behind her, humming a sweet tune and braiding her magenta hair.
“Keep up the good work,” Edelgard encouraged Petra in passing.
“Yes, the work is good, Lady Edelgard!” Petra chirped.
As she continued down the middle of the rows of desks, her eyes found something… no, someone, sitting beneath one with a book on their head. Edelgard did not need to see their face to know it was Bernadetta. She sighed softly. The poor creature was probably bound and sent to the Officers Academy in a body bag. That would be the only way to get Bernadetta to leave the safe confines of her room. Despite this, Ferdinand was trying to coax Bernadetta from her makeshift shelter. His gloved hands waved at her encouragingly, like he was trying to get a stray cat to come out of hiding.
“My Lady,” Hubert rose to greet her as she found his desk toward the back of the room. His golden eye glinted as he spoke. “I did some more research on the one called Byleth, as you requested.”
Edelgard nodded, pleased. “And?”
Hubert opened a dogeared leatherbound notebook as he took his seat again. Within the pages, she noticed his swiftly written scrawl. “Her reputation precedes her,” he began cryptically. “She could pose a problem to our,” he lowered his voice, “ventures.”
Narrowing her eyes, Edelgard crossed her arms. “Go on.”
“Her counterparts at Remire Village call her the Ashen Demon. Apparently, she’s never lost a battle. Her swordsmanship, as you’ve witnessed, is fantastic. But, she did not get her nickname for her skill with the blade.” Hubert brought his gloved fingers to his chin, pinching as his brows furrowed with thought. Edelgard only saw him like this when he was truly absorbed in a puzzle or mission. “She lacks remorse, a fitting quality for a mercenary, yes, but… The amount of humanity she lacks while she is slaying her opponents is so great, it’s inhuman. Demonic, even.”
“I’ve seen it firsthand,” Edelgard confirmed, also perplexed. “She is not an enemy I wish to make. Perhaps she will join our cause in the future? Better she come to us as an ally than an opponent.”
Hubert wrinkled his nose at Edelgard’s suggestion. He snapped his book shut, brows still furrowed, and faced Edelgard. “I can keep a close eye on her,” Hubert offered. “Before we make a strategic move to gain her favor, we must better understand where her loyalties lie and what her motives are.”
“It’s too late for that,” Edelgard murmured, exasperation growing. “I’ve already offered her a job in the Empire as repayment for her saving me.”
“My Lady, forgive me, but I must protest that decision! We don’t know her. What if she means to harm you… all the work we have endured would be for naught!”
Edelgard’s lilac gaze sharpened as her retainer dared to question her. His outburst drew the attention of their classmates, but only briefly. She rose her hand up to stop him. “I’ve made my decision. Something about her is telling me she is the one we need to realize our vision. I want her to be mine.”
“Very well,” Hubert relented, grudgingly. He bowed his head to her. “My apologies, Lady Edelgard.”
“Your apology is not necessary, Hubert. Just keep an eye on her for me, please?”
Hubert nodded, and then stiffened, gazing over Edelgard’s shoulder. He rose from his chair, nearly knocking over the brass ink jar in his rash movement. “That shouldn’t be an issue, considering she is in this very room.”
Edelgard glanced behind her to see Byleth, in the flesh, making her way across the classroom. Her boots clicked against the wooden floor in a menacing rhythm. She only spared the other Black Eagle students glances as they gaped at her abrupt entry. Her eyes were focused on Edelgard above all else. Edelgard straightened her posture; despite her misgivings about the Ashen Demon, she knew she needed to play nice.
“Hello again,” Edelgard greeted. “Has your meeting with the archbishop already ended?”
“It has.”
Byleth’s gaze flickered to Hubert as he pressed up against Edelgard’s back. Once they locked eyes, she could feel Hubert’s stance go rigid. She had known Hubert all her life, and only very few people seemed to get under his skin like Byleth. The majority of those people were no longer living. Though she trusted Hubert more than anyone, she could not shake the idea that his suspicion of Byleth was misplaced.
“Lady Rhea invited me to become a professor in the Officers Academy,” Byleth went on to say. She did not sound thrilled, but she did not sound disappointed, either. Her strong voice was nothing but monotone.
“A professor?!” Hubert exclaimed. His hands were balled into fists.
“You’re a little young to be a professor,” Caspar chimed in. His blue eyes were narrowed. “What makes you so special?”
Edelgard was so preoccupied with watching Byleth’s every move that she failed to notice the entirety of her house had joined in on greeting the Academy’s latest professor.
Byleth was unmoved by the influx of attention. Her eyes remained unflinchingly locked on Edelgard’s. She felt her heart beat faster. No one dared to stare at her the way Byleth did. Not once did Byleth falter in addressing her. It was the strangest feeling she had ever experienced, to be so openly looked upon. It made her feel vulnerable and exposed, but she refused to cross her arms and make her discomfort known.
“Congratulations on your achievement,” Edelgard replied, offering a cordial smile. “Lady Rhea must have seen the same potential I’ve seen in you to make such an offer. I’m impressed.”
“Thank you.”
An odd sense of tension seemed to thicken the air as the two women held one another’s gaze. It strangled the classroom into silence. Even the books seemed to hold their breath. The rest of the Black Eagle students were forced to share uncomfortable glances and shuffle with unease.
“It is a pity, though. I was hoping you would lend your strength to the Empire. You can still work for me and the Empire if you find tutoring unfulfilling,” Edelgard went on, still straining a smile. “There’s no expiration date on my offer.”
“Thank you.”
Edelgard tapped her foot impatiently. What was wrong with this woman? She was purposefully holding back, that much Edelgard knew for certain. Was she trying to frustrate her? Whatever game Byleth was playing, Edelgard was ready to participate.
“You are able to choose your House as a professor, yes?” Edelgard pressed. Her smile did not meet her eyes. “I’m sure I speak for all of Black Eagle when I say I would be honored to have you as a professor. Your work on the battlefield is unprecedented, and as the daughter of Jeralt, the Blade Breaker, you have a legacy of success in your blood.”
At first, the rest of the students seemed to have lost their tongues. Hubert, still pressed against her, put his hand on her shoulder in a warning gesture. Edelgard knew she was taking a risk as she mentally played chess with Byleth, but if she wanted to unmask the enigma, the game had to go on.
Dorothea was the one to break the ice. “I would be thrilled to have you as well! You’ve done an admirable deed in saving my dear Edie.” She beamed at Byleth. There was a coquettish gleam in her green eyes as she spoke. “You are by far the best-looking of all the professors in the Academy as well.”
“You seem tough enough, I guess,” Caspar relented, crossing his arms as doubt clouded his boyish face. “I hope your training is even tougher.”
Lindhardt yawned. “Will you allow us to break for naps in-between lectures?”
“Silence!” Hubert growled. Though half of his face was covered by a mop of stringy black hair, the other half was visibly irritated. “Allow her the chance to speak. She has not even accepted us as her students. There are two other houses, after all. She seems like the type to go after Golden Deer—“
“I chose the House of the Black Eagle,” Byleth interrupted bluntly. “That’s why I came to find you, Edelgard.”
The squeeze of Hubert’s hand on Edelgard’s shoulder became firmer. She rolled her shoulders uncomfortably when she caught the malignant gleam in his eye. She felt her heart begin to pound. Byleth wanted to find her… the thought was as terrifying as it was exciting.
“Find me?” Edelgard echoed. “Ah, because I’m the House Leader?”
Byleth nodded.
Edelgard clapped her hands together. “I suppose we should talk business, then?” Her eyes grazed over the rest of the House. “Would you all be willing to let us exchange a few words?”
The students nodded, Bernadetta the most fervently. Seeing her disheveled purple hair bob like a dandelion caught in the wind made Edelgard smile with amusement.
Bernadetta squeaked as she brushed passed the professor. “S-s-sorry!” She bowed her head furiously. “It w-was an accident!”
Byleth, unmoved by Bernadetta’s babbling apology, merely nodded. Bernadetta wasted no time in fleeing the scene, vanishing into the courtyard in a hasty retreat.
Petra smiled at Byleth before she left. “I look forward to our working together,” she said.
“Yes, I second that,” Ferdinand purred, giving Byleth a deep bow. “I have high hopes for one of your stature. Just promise you won’t go easy on us.” He gave Byleth a wink before taking his leave.
As the students all shuffled out, only Hubert remained. His waxy complexion was wrinkled with blatant dislike as he glared at his professor. Byleth returned the glare with her own unfeeling stare. Edelgard felt like she was watching two bristling wolves growling at each other. She moved to stand between them, glaring up at Hubert. “That means you as well,” she told him pointedly.
Hubert nodded stiffly. “As you wish, Lady Edelgard.
Edelgard waited until his heavy footsteps vanished before she faced Byleth again. “I wasn’t lying when I said I would be honored to have you as a professor. But,” she sharpened her tone, “I will be placing high expectations on you. I’ve had many teachers, you see, and I know what I want.”
“I won’t fail you,” Byleth said. The honesty in her voice sealed her words as a promise.
Edelgard’s heart fluttered. “May I ask you something?”
Byleth nodded.
“Did you… even consider the other Houses?”
“No.”
Edelgard felt her face grow hot with a blush. What’s that supposed to mean? “I see…” She found herself playing with her white hair as she pondered on Byleth’s answer. She could feel her staring as she fell silent. She felt vulnerable again. “Is there anything you want to know about the House before classes begin? About the students?”
“I only want to know about you,” Byleth replied. “I will learn of the others in time.” She took a step closer to Edelgard, and she instinctively stepped back, bumping into the desk hard enough to cause the ink bottles and quill jar to rattle. “You’re the House Leader,” Byleth went on. “If I don’t know you, then I have no right to know of those that trust you.”
Edelgard forgot how to swallow. The intensity in Byleth’s eyes was unbearable. Her words, carried by a strong voice, were clear and honest. Each syllable was clipped to a point. Edelgard was not sure what made her heart flutter so; she assumed it was fear. She eyed the hilt of Byleth’s sword and imagined her drawing it with that same cold expression she always had.
“You’re right,” Edelgard murmured. Her voice betrayed her with a tremble. Snap out of this. You are to rule the Empire! You can’t be scared of a simple mercenary. She cleared her throat and rearranged her thoughts. “As you already know, my name is Edelgard von Hresvelg. I am the heir to the Adrestian Empire. My talent lies with the axe, but I am willing to learn anything.”
“When will you become the Emperor?” Byleth asked.
Edelgard’s brows pinched together in surprise. “Why does it matter?” she wanted to say. She gritted her teeth together when she found Byleth’s expression to be unreadable. A word of caution came from the back of her mind to tread carefully; she could not completely trust Byleth, not yet.
“I intend to finish my schooling before I assume the throne.”
Byleth nodded, narrowing her eyes as she absorbed the information provided. “Why did you choose to come here?”
“My father attended the Academy here as well. I intend to follow in his footsteps.”
“Do you miss him?”
Edelgard’s chest tightened. “Such an odd question,” she muttered, averting her eyes away. She imagined the shell of a man on the throne; there was a time he was once brimming with health and vitality. But that time had long since passed. “Yes, I do miss my father,” she realized. I’ve missed him for a long time.
So consumed by the thoughts of her father, she failed to realize Byleth had closed the distance between them. Her tall shadow cast over Edelgard’s face, startling her. She reached out as a reflex, wanting to push her away, but in her haste she spilled the ink bottle that was shivering on the desk. Cursing, she moved to set it upright and stained her white glove in the process.
“Sorry,” Byleth murmured. She sounded honestly apologetic.
Without waiting for Edelgard to reply, she took her hand. Edelgard froze, staring widely at her. Byleth’s fingers were cool to the touch as they carefully slipped off Edelgard’s dirty glove. Her breathing came quicker as Byleth took a moment to gingerly turn Edelgard’s wrist and examine her palm. She was so careful with her. Edelgard never imagined the one called “Ashen Demon” to be gentle.
“No stains,” Byleth murmured. Her blue eyes flashed when she noticed the broad, purplish scar that cut diagonally across Edelgard’s wrist.
Upon noticing her uncovered scar, Edelgard yanked her hand away, hiding it behind her back. “It’s okay,” Edelgard assured her. “It was an accident.”
“The scar was an accident?”
“No, I meant the ink. I—“ Edelgard squeezed her eyes shut. “Please, just leave it be. Nevermind my scar.”
Byleth stared at her in silence before she nodded. “I hope I didn’t offend you.” She brought Edelgard’s gloved hand to her lips as she bowed to her. Gently, she kissed her knuckles. “I’m looking forward to working together.”
Where her lips touched, Edelgard felt warmth radiate. She brought her kissed hand to her chest as Byleth turned to leave. With her hand pressed to her chest, she could feel her heart pounding. She still failed to understand her savior, her professor. Why was she getting so close to her in the first place? A blush stained Edelgard’s pale face. As she was left alone in the classroom, she knew that she would never be able to ignore Byleth. The craving she had to understand her only grew the more they encountered one another.
And so began her journey to exorcise the demon and unveil the woman beneath the surface.