#v; verdant wind / lysithea.

[reesespieces]

moore tags

[nicolewrites]

i apologize for my divinity (it is never enough) - vi

it’s over. final thoughts to come in a separate post if anyone’s interested. love you guys.

Rating: T+ Genre: Angst, Friendship, Family Characters: Byleth/My Unit, Claude R., Dimitri B. Words: 8,620

AO3 | FFN

pt i | pt ii | pt iii | pt iv | pt v

vi - verdant moon

- ~ -

Byleth dreams of Seiros and Nemesis and the Tailtean Plains. The clash of their blades echoes across the battlefield and into Byleth’s skull. After a gruelling, dirty brawl, Seiros finally throws away both of their blades and gains the upper hand.

The swords skid to a stop in the mud at Byleth’s feet. Curious, she bends over and runs her hand along the Sword of the Creator. The blade is cool to the touch as opposed to the familiar warmth Byleth knows from her own time wielding the sword. The other blade, the one wielded by Seiros, is a straight blade with wave-like edges that glimmers with an undercurrent of blue.

Byleth pauses before she can touch the blade. She knows this sword. This is Rhea’s sword. Byleth’s head snaps up to where Seiros is pinning Nemesis to the earth. Seiros looks eerily familiar and when she speaks, cursing Nemesis for his past actions, Byleth recognizes her voice.

Rhea is Seiros.

Seiros’s knife sinks into Nemesis’s chest and as it retracts, piercing pain shoots through Byleth’s stomach. She gasps and her knees buckle as she falls into the mud. The knife sinks into Nemesis’s stomach again and this time when it retracts the pain in her stomach intensifies until her vision turns white and–

she wakes up.

- ~ -

/ verdant rain moon /

Byleth sits up sharply, gasping for air. Manuela, Mercedes, Dimitri, and Claude, who are all gathered around her, jolt back in surprise. Manuela is holding the dagger that Edelgard stabbed her with and Mercedes quickly draws the rune for a Fortify spell and lets the white magic sink into Byleth.

“Professor, please lie down!” Manuela says as she leans forward to grasp Byleth’s arms and lower her back to the ground.

Byleth’s head is spinning. She lies down as Manuela requests and stares blankly at the ceiling above her. The ornate designs that decorate it tell her she is still in the Imperial Palace. She is lying on the ground, but there is something heavy and soft beneath her. Her fingers brush along it blindly, feeling along the fur, until she realizes that it is Dimitri’s cloak.

“Teach, are you alright?” Claude asks, leaning more into her field of view.

Byleth nods. Mercedes’s magic healed her wound, but her mind is still spinning from the dream she had had. Byleth turns the palm of her right hand up and unfurls her fingers. Claude notices the action and drops his own hand into hers. His gloves have been removed and Byleth feels the familiar long, calloused fingers wind into her own. She lifts her left hand to the left of her body and both of Dimitri’s large hands close around it, cradling it between his.

Byleth lets her eyes shut for a long moment. “Is everyone alright?” There’s a heavy pause and her eyes snap open, flicking between Dimitri and Claude’s grim expressions.

“We have suffered heavy losses,” Dimitri admitted. “Edelgard’s last line of defences carried the kill or die trying mindset, that’s for sure. Some of our troops needed heavy medical attention and some didn’t make it.”

“We lost Gilbert, despite Flayn’s efforts, and we may yet lose Raph.” Claude’s voice is tinged with pain as he mentions the state of one of his former Golden Deer classmates.

Byleth squeezes his hand and nods. “Annette?” she asks Dimitri.

Mercedes answers her instead. “She was with Ingrid and Ashe the last time I saw her. She’ll be alright.”

Byleth takes a deep breath and ignores the throb of pain in her stomach. “Where’s Rhea?”

Claude looks surprised at the question and he and Dimitri exchange a furtive look. “She’s alive, but she doesn’t look good. The Knights have already started the return march to Garreg Mach and I believe she and Seteth have already left Enbarr.”

“I need to speak with her as soon as possible,” Byleth mutters. Her head hurts and her stomach still aches dully.

“You need to rest,” Dimitri says firmly. “You’re in no state to travel and we have some things to deal with here in Enbarr first.”

“Rest,” Byleth echoes dimly. She closes her eyes again. “I have to speak to Seiros,” she mumbles, but exhaustion is already flooding through her body.

She falls asleep where she lies, clutching Claude’s hand while Dimitri cradled her other one.

- ~ -

It takes a week to settle affairs in Enbarr before the main forces of the Alliance-Kingdom coalition army can begin the trek back to Garreg Mach. Mercedes keeps a watchful eye on Byleth’s injury, but it heals steadily until Byleth is back on her feet and attending political meetings in the Imperial Palace alongside her former students.

Dimitri and Claude lead the discussions, while nobles from across Adrestria assemble in the capital to denounce Edelgard’s ambitions. There is a great deal of work that will need to be done in reconstructing Adrestia, but Faerghus and the Leicester Alliance all require their own reworking. Byleth had apparently been appointed as the representative for the Church of Seiros at the discussions, though she mostly keeps her mouth shut and watches Claude and Dimitri handle the negotiations easily.

After the third day of meetings, Byleth has noticed a pattern. Claude seems to be loosening his grip on what power could easily become his. He directs questions about the Empire-Alliance border to the nobles in that region or even to Byleth and the church, but doesn’t elaborate on plans for the Alliance. Dimitri doesn’t appear to notice and if he does notice, he takes no issue with it. He seems content to step into his role as King of Faerghus.

On the seventh day, after the end of the discussions, Byleth lingers in the audience chamber, staring at the map of Fódlan. Her presence is clearly noted as both Dimitri and Claude stay to watch her. Byleth slides a marker indicating a group of Knights to the monastery’s location and then moves the piece indicating the Alliance troops there as well, followed by the Kingdom’s troops.

“When we leave tomorrow, what becomes of Adrestria?” she asks. “They are leaderless and there is no way there will ever be trust for them across Fódlan again.”

She tilts her head up to look between the two lords. Dimitri looks down at the map and swallows, but remains quiet. Claude shifts, pulling at his sash, but he meets her eyes. Byleth narrows her gaze and pins him with a firm stare.

“Fódlan will become one nation,” Claude finally answers. “I’m waiting on the last few letters of assent from Alliance nobles, but I know they won’t hold out too much longer.”

“We intend to combine all territories into the Kingdom of Fódlan and,” Dimitri pauses, looking slightly uncomfortable, “I am poised to take the crown as King.”

Claude’s lips twitch into a small smirk. “It wasn’t my original plan, that’s for sure, but you can’t exactly un-king the King of Faerghus.”

Dimitri laughs lightly and paces around the edge of the table, studying the pieces on the map that Byleth had moved. “We both know that your first choice would have turned down the position.”

Byleth frowns. “Turned down? Claude, surely you had your own intentions of becoming king?”

Claude shakes his head. “No, Teach, that was always a position that I intended to leave to a person who I thought this nation could truly rally behind.”

His gaze on her is warm and open and Byleth jolts as she realizes the truth of his statement. “Me?” she questions. “You intended for me to be a queen? Claude, I was born a commoner and I don’t know the first thing about ruling!”

He shrugs. “You were a unifying figure and if the way you stepped up to lead during the war was any indication, I know you could have done it. But, alas, Dimitri here has foiled that scheme quite thoroughly.”

Byleth’s surprise renders her speechless. It turns out that she wouldn’t have gotten a chance to speak anyways, as there is an interrupting knock at the doorway of the chamber. Byleth looks past Claude and sees a troubled-looking Lysithea standing in the doorway.

“Professor, Claude, Dimitri,” she greets politely, nodding to each of them. “I was hoping to have a word with the Professor about something.”

Dimitri nods. “I can take my leave if you’d like.”

Lysithea shakes her head. “No, as much as I once might have preferred that, this is information you should know as well.” She walks into the room and places a folded piece of paper on the table.

Claude, who is closest, picks it up and skims over it. His eyebrows shoot up and he looks back to Lysithea. “Lysithea?” he questions.

She inhales and closes her eyes before she tells them all she knows about Those Who Slither in the Dark and the contents of Hubert’s letter. She notes that the Javelins of Light at Fort Merceus were definitely their doing and that Edelgard was probably a victim to their schemes as well.

Claude passes Byleth the letter and Dimitri moves to stand behind her so he can read it over her shoulder. Lysithea continues her explanation and Byleth feels a cold chill creep along her spine as she starts to put things together. Kronya, Solon, and Thales were all members of this group, and if her suspicion was correct, so was Cornelia and the main perpetrators of the Tragedy of Duscur.

Her three former students all bear grim expressions as they all come to the same realization: this isn’t over yet.

Byleth folds the letter and slides it into a pocket in her coat. She squares her shoulders and nods. “Let us return to Garreg Mach. There is much we must ask Rhea.”

- ~ -

Seteth tries to stop her, but Byleth is done with secrets. She pushes aside the archbishop’s aide and steps into Rhea’s quarters. Behind her, Seteth protests and tries to halt her entourage as well, but Dimitri is strong and Claude is nimble so they both manage to maneuver past him as well.

Rhea is seated at a vanity on the far side of her room. She is slowly and methodically putting on her jewelry and the decorations that indicate her rank as archbishop. She sees Byleth approach in the mirror and pauses, turning to look back.

“I am happy to see you have survived,” Rhea says softly.

Byleth frowns. “I am not here for pleasantries, Rhea,” she says firmly. “The time for secrets is done. What do you know about Those Who Slither in the Dark?”

Rhea rights herself and her expression firms into something unreadable. “Yes, I suppose that it is time you knew everything.” She looks between Claude and Dimitri as well as the lingering figure of Seteth in the doorway.

And Rhea tells them.

- ~ -

They prepare to march on Shambhala. Hilda secures reinforcements from Holst that will meet them there on the last day of the month and the monastery bustles into motion as battle preparations begin in earnest. Some of her students return home briefly to see their families and pass on messages. Claude makes a trip to Derdriu for an impromptu Roundtable Conference, and Dimitri spends a week in Fhirdiad to smooth over Kingdom affairs.

Byleth remains in the monastery and she trains. Her body still struggles to keep up at times due to the injuries she sustained at Fort Merceus as well as the wound from Edelgard in Enbarr. Even so, she works herself back into top form. She spars with Felix and Caspar and Sylvain and Ingrid and Petra and Catherine. By the end of it, Byleth feels stronger than she has in a long time.

The night before Dimitri is set to return and three days before they march for Shambhala, Byleth heads to the Cathedral by herself. She stands in front of the ruined goddess statue and looks up at it. Reconstruction efforts on the church have continued, but there is something poetic about the way it stands now–half-broken and not entirely whole.

Sothis, she thinks. Thank you for your strength. I am sorry to have lost you as I did and I hope that you will forgive me, my friend.

There’s a flicker of warmth in her chest and the Sublime Creator Sword pulses with red light once. Byleth curls a hand over where her heart should be. You will always be with me.

- ~ -

Thales falls in front of her. Byleth stands above him, the Sublime Creator Sword burning in her hand. The battle for the city has been brutal and bloody and now it is over.

“So, Sothis, you have decided to finally strike us down, have you?” Thales hisses.

Byleth doesn’t reply and flicks her wrist so the tip of her sword is pointed straight at Thales. She breathes in deeply and barely catches the glint in Thales’s eyes.

“You will never get to enjoy your victory,” he snarls. Thales’s hand presses against the stone and a massive glyph set into the ground lights up.

Behind Byleth, Rhea gasps in shock. There is a terrible moment of nothing and then the roof of the underground city shakes and starts to give way. Byleth staggers back. Thales fixes her with a horrible, satisfied stare as the ceiling starts to fall in chunks around them. Byleth’s allies scream in terror and begin to retreat. Byleth steps towards Thales, but a massive chunk of rock from the ceiling falls and blocks her view of him, spraying her in dust and shards of rock.

“Byleth!” Dimitri yells to her over the chaos of battle. “The whole place is coming down! We have to get out of here!” He is one of the few people remaining in the central chamber as the rest of the army evacuates in an attempt to leave Shambhala before more destruction can occur.

Sunlight breaks through overhead and Byleth sees tears of light across the sky as more missiles approach. As much as she wants to see Thales’s death with her own eyes, she has no desire to die alongside him. Byleth takes one step back and then another before she turns and starts to run for the exit.

Rhea, however, doesn’t seem intent on retreat as she sprints towards where Thales had fallen and launches herself upward. In a familiar burst of green light, Rhea transforms and the Immaculate One soars upward towards the falling Javelins of Light. Byleth stands, transfixed, as Rhea defends the armies below from the missiles.

Rhea is not a god and one missile gets by her, streaking toward Shambhala. Byleth brings her arms up to protect her face as it detonates close enough that she can feel the terrible, familiar heat of the explosion. Something heavy hits her in the side and she finds herself being tackled out of the way.

Byleth opens her eyes and sees Dimitri with his eye shut and his arms wrapped around her as they hit the ground heavily. His large frame shields her from the blast, but she still feels the heat wash over them both as it radiates out. When the explosions cease, Byleth rolls Dimitri off of her and desperately assesses him, fear rising in her throat. His back is torn with shrapnel and he is soundly unconscious, but he is breathing heavily and after a quick Heal spell, his breathing evens out to be more like sleep. She brushes his hair out of his face and presses a kiss to his temple as she cradles him.

Byleth looks past him and sees the utter ruins that have been left in the place of Shambhala. Lying in the centre of the room, inside a ring of scorched stone, is Rhea’s human form. There is yelling and a loud blast and a wall of rocks on the fall side of the room are pushed aside to reveal Claude, Raphael, Annette, Seteth, and Felix.

Seteth and the others make haste to Rhea’s side, while Claude hurries towards Byleth. Byleth cradles Dimitri closer to her, but makes eye contact with Claude as he kneels next to her. Claude places a hand on Dimitri’s chest, feeling for a heartbeat, and relaxes once he finds one.

“Too stubborn to die, this one,” he murmurs lowly.

He turns to face her more fully and pulls her into an awkward hug, being mindful of the fact that Byleth is holding Dimitri. His lips press into her temple and Byleth can hear his heart racing. He holds her for a moment as if he is afraid to let her go. She closes her eyes and lets his closeness reassure her.

Alive, alive, alive, she thinks. We are all alive.

- ~ -

/ horsebow moon /

It takes nearly all of the healers in Garreg Mach to save Rhea, but they manage. Byleth tends to Dimitri herself to allow Mercedes and Marianne and Linhardt and Manuela to save their magic for people who need more care.

In the aftermath, people begin to realize that the war seems to be finally and truly over. Sylvain proposes to Ingrid almost immediately upon returning to the monastery and they are married a week later in an intimate ceremony that Byleth presides over upon their request. Lorenz constructs a small, understated proposal to Marianne because he knows that she would prefer something smaller and quiet. Byleth sees Felix lying in the grass with his head in Annette’s lap as she combs her fingers through his hair and sings quietly.

Ignatz and Mercedes are together every time Byleth sees them. Petra and Ashe spend enough time together that Byleth thinks something may be brewing. Linhardt seems to pester Lysithea at every turn about her crests, but the softness in her gaze seems to indicate she does not mind too much. Caspar tags along for the sheer purpose of pestering Linhardt and Byleth even stumbles upon Lysithea and Cyril huddled in a corner in the library as the latter learns to read.

Leonie falls into a position as something of a commander to the mercenaries that used to follow Jeralt, much to her surprise and Byleth’s pleasure. Raphael writes home twice as often and takes the time to seek out Hilda to learn about managing a business and dealing with his sister. Hilda herself writes to her brother fairly often and fully embraces her role in the organization of reconstruction efforts for the Church. Hilda and Raphael also manage to rope Bernadetta into several “confidence lessons” as they teach her to be more assertive and confident. Dedue keeps an eye on Dimitri through his recovery and continues his support as his vassal.

Dorothea organizes a funeral for Ferdinand amongst the remaining Black Eagles. She grieves deeply, but soon approaches Manuela with the idea of using the refugees of their old Opera Company to entertain wounded soldiers on bed rest. The idea turns out wonderfully and morale rises amongst those undergoing long recoveries.

Dimitri summons nobles from across Fódlan to Garreg Mach to discuss the future. Seteth agrees to represent the church in the meetings so that Byleth does not have to. She spectates them instead and feels a bit like an outsider. Many of her former students, especially those with titles they will inherit attend the meetings, but Claude is conspicuously absent.

- ~ -

It is three weeks after they take down Shambhala, that Dimitri asks her to stay after one of the meetings. She steps to his side and studies his face. He looks tired, but not discontent. Byleth reaches up without thinking and touches his face gently. Dimitri’s eye closes and he leans into the palm of her hand.

“Are you alright?” she asks him quietly. “Do you need anything?”

He gives a low laugh. “I am still having those dreams,” he murmurs. “I am restructuring the ruling system of a continent and most of the notes I have,” he gestures to the scribbled talking points he has been using in the discussions, “are not my own.”

Byleth drops her hand from his face and takes the notes from Dimitri. She recognizes the writing on them immediately: they were written by Claude. “Why is Claude writing you a new system of government and then bowing out of it completely?”

Dimitri shakes his head. “I am unsure. He has been in the library looking through the archives for some time now. I think much of what he saw at Shambhala has not settled with him.” Dimitri sighs. “Honestly, it has not settled with me either. What was that great beast that saved us? Why was it Rhea? Why were our opponents so dead set on destroying you and Rhea that they killed hundreds of their own?” He shakes his head again. “I have many questions for Rhea.”

For Seiros, Byleth’s mind reminds. She forces herself not to frown. “I have many of my own,” she admits. “And I am sure Claude feels the same. Perhaps we should bring our questions to her,” she muses.

Dimitri shakes his head. “Professor, Rhea needs rest now. We cannot interrupt that.”

Byleth frowns. “I do not believe that her rest takes precedence over everything we have done for her.” She turns away from Dimitri. “I need answers,” she admits. He doesn’t move behind her so she steps away and heads for the entrance of the door, pausing briefly once more. “I am going to go speak with Claude.”

He doesn’t follow her out.

- ~ -

She finds Claude in his room sitting on the floor, surrounded by books that she doesn’t recognize. Byleth taps her knuckles on the doorframe and he looks up. The lines of stress in his forehead relax and his gaze softens when he sees it’s her.

“Hey, Teach, what can I do for you?”

Byleth folds her arms and shifts her weight awkwardly. “We have been back from Shambhala for three weeks and I have hardly seen you.”

Claude’s lips twitch into a small smirk. “Did you miss me or something?”

She narrows her eyes. “Dimitri could use your support as well. Not everyone is as on board with the unification of Fódlan as you two are.”

Claude sighs. “I have my reasons for not being there,” he says vaguely. At Byleth’s unimpressed look, he gestures to the books around him. “I am looking for answers,” he elaborates.

Byleth purses her lips and steps into the room, glancing down at the book Claude is studying currently. It looks like the same one that held the image of the Immaculate One that he had shared with her all those years ago. Byleth knelt and ran a fingertip over the sketch on the page.

“You have questions for Rhea,” she murmured.

Claude snorts. “Who doesn’t after that display? Still, I am not sure I have the authority to disturb her rest since the war is basically over at this point.”

Byleth frowns. “I am going to speak to her tomorrow. I would like it if you were there.” She rises back to her feet, but before she can walk away, Claude grabs the edge of her coat. She looks back at him and there are several emotions swirling in the green of his eyes, many of which she cannot pick out.

“Byleth,” he says softly.

She pulls out of his grip and walks towards the door. “When you’re ready to stop keeping secrets from me, we can have this conversation,” she says.

- ~ -

Seteth folds his arms. “Absolutely not. I made an exception for you last time, Professor, but I absolutely must not let you pass now. Lady Rhea needs rest and she mustn’t be disturbed.”

Byleth takes a deep breath. “Seteth, I am not asking you to move. I am telling you that I am going to speak to Rhea.”

Seteth frowns at her and doesn’t budge from his place outside Rhea’s door. Cyril, who stands next to him, is also frowning. Byleth has come alone and is not interested in taking no for an answer. There are questions she has for Rhea and she was going to get her answers.

“Didn’t you learn a long time ago that you can’t win an argument with Teach, Seteth?” Claude calls as he rounds the corner from the stairwell.

Dimitri is with him and neither of the two of them looks in the mood for idle conversation. Byleth presses her lips into a line as the two lords approach. Dimitri nods to her.

“We have questions to ask Rhea,” Dimitri states firmly.

Finally, Seteth and Cyril seem to realize they are fighting a losing battle. Seteth turns to open the door, knocking lightly on it.

“Rhea,” he calls, “Byleth, Dimitri, and Claude are here to speak with you.”

He waits a moment until Rhea responds in a soft voice that Byleth can’t quite pick up on, but then he opens the door and steps aside. Byleth strides into the room and notes that Rhea is standing by the largest window in her room, looking out at the monastery. She is without her archbishop’s regalia and is dressed simply in a plain white dress.

Dimitri and Claude follow her into the room and Rhea turns towards them. Her face is drawn and tired looking, but she is alive, at least, and that is more than many of the people who died in her service can say. Anger wells in Byleth’s chest and she takes a deep breath to try and calm herself.

“Apologies for disturbing your rest, Lady Rhea,” Dimitri says politely.

Rhea shakes her head. “No, you must have questions, it is alright. Ask me and I will do my best to answer them.”

Claude tips his head to the side and gives Rhea a calculating look. “You’re the Immaculate One, aren’t you? You appeared to defend Garreg Mach five years ago. And if the rest of what I’m thinking is correct–”

“It is,” Rhea affirms. “I am the last child of the progenitor god. My mother, Sothis, lost all of her children in the Red Canyon massacre. All of them except me.”

“Is that when you started calling yourself Seiros? After Zanado?” Byleth asks. Her voice comes out harder than she intends, and Dimitri and Claude both seem startled by the implication of her words.

Rhea’s expression hardens. “Yes. I called myself Seiros and I raised an army to oppose Nemesis.”

She tells them about Nemesis’s true history and about the truth of the relics and the Crests. Beside her, Claude and Dimitri both seem uncomfortable at the realization that their weapons and the Crests the bear have come from such dark roots. Then, of course, they realize that the Sublime Creator Sword is not just any relic, but one that was created from Sothis’s remains.

“How can the Professor wield the Sword of the Creator?” Dimitri asks. His gaze drops to where it hangs at Byleth’s waist. “It does not have a Crest Stone.”

Rhea looks down and for the first time in the conversation, she actually appears guilty. The anger swells in Byleth again as she starts to connect the dots herself. “The Professor bears the Crest of Flames and can wield the Sword of the Creator because,” Rhea pauses, trying to gather the right words.

Byleth’s hand presses against her own chest where her heart should have been. “The Crest Stone is inside of me, isn’t it?” Rhea doesn’t disagree and Byleth’s anger grows. “You used me to try to resurrect Sothis,” she accuses.

Claude frowns. “All those years ago, in the Holy Mausoleum, when you said that Teach could expect a revelation,” he murmurs. His eyes widen and his expression hardens. “You thought that sending her to sit on that throne would bring back the goddess.”

Rhea closes her eyes. “I did many things in an attempt to reach my mother that I am not proud of. And still, it was not enough. She simply bestowed her power upon you and left.” Rhea raises her head and looks Byleth in the eyes. “I had hoped she would return to me.”

Byleth steps back from Rhea, feeling her anger well further. “I am not a pawn for you to play with in an attempt to raise a god,” she says sharply. “I will not let you use me.”

Rhea’s expression slips into something that is almost disappointed. “You were different from what I expected. You seemed to know what was happening after you merged and I had just hoped that perhaps I had succeeded this time.”

“This time?” Dimitri echoes, confused.

Claude turns his head to Byleth looking startled. “What do you mean, Rhea?”

The archbishop tilts her head. “I felt you tear the fabric of space and time the first time after Dimitri fell facing Edelgard. I felt her presence there, but it has never returned since that moment even as you walked the same path all this time.”

Byleth steps away from Rhea, fear and surprise quickly replacing her anger. “You knew. All this time you knew and you said nothing.”

Rhea doesn’t get a chance to reply before an armoured knight bursts into the room, followed by Hilda and Seteth.

“There is an army marching on Garreg Mach. They march under a banner that bears the Crest of Flames and the reports say that their leader wields a blade that looks exactly like the Sword of the Creator.”

There is no disguising the malice and the darkness in Rhea’s voice as she spits the name of their enemy:

“Nemesis.”

- ~ -

They meet Nemesis’s forces at the base of the mountains that surround Garreg Mach. It doesn’t take long for them to notice the 10 Elites and the army’s commander himself. Byleth disperses their forces as best as she can to take out as many of the Elites as possible and she charts herself a route directly to Nemesis.

He sees her coming and a cruel smile paints his features. His sword lashes out and Byleth swings with all of her strength to block the blow. She succeeds, but her feet slide in the dirt from the force of the impact. She doesn’t hesitate then, stepping forward and making her countermove as her own blade cracks along the spine to lash out at him.

Nemesis blocks in a similar manner and charges straight at her. The two Swords of the Creator clash with a deafening clang and a burst of light spread across the field around them. Nemesis leers at her and presses her back, putting his strength into the deadlock of swords. It takes all of her strength to resist the assault as she pushes back, keeping their swords locked together.

He is by far the best opponent Byleth has ever faced in terms of skill and in raw strength. He is practiced with the blade despite having been dead for a significant amount of time. She screams out as she presses him back, digging for the power of Sothis to help her resist the force of his attack.

Her aid comes in a different form, instead, as out of the corner of her eye, she spies a spear drive up towards Nemesis. Her opponent twists, breaking the deadlock of their blades to deflect the oncoming spear. Dimitri growls and slashes again, trying to push the bandit into retreating. Nemesis, however, seems more than capable of deflecting Dimitri’s blows while also keeping Byleth and her blade busy.

Claude’s arrow nearly lands, but Nemesis jumps back, cutting it from the air. He stands apart from them for a moment and assesses the situation. “You are too weak to take me on alone,” he goads Byleth.

She tightens her grip on her sword and says nothing.

“She is strong enough to have allies to help her,” Dimitri growls back.

“And we have the strength, together, to finish the job,” Claude replies.

He fires an arrow up in an arc and Byleth goes on the offensive again. Byleth’s blade locks against his for only a moment before the searing red of Claude’s arrow strikes down and shatters the Crest Stone in the hilt of the weapon. Dimitri doesn’t hesitate, driving his spear at the sword and shattering the blade in Nemesis’s hand.

Byleth deals the final blow and it is all finally over.

- ~ -

When Rhea summons her, she almost doesn’t go. Everyone is celebrating all throughout the monastery–Hilda is organizing a celebratory ball, even–and Byleth gets summoned to speak with Rhea alone.

She climbs the stairs to the third floor quietly. For once, she is not carrying her sword. The blade is currently on a hook in her chambers and the only weapon she is carrying is Jeralt’s hunting knife strapped to her hip. Byleth touches the stone walls as she ascends the stairs. She has spent so many hours inside of these walls and it finally feels like home to her. She just wishes that Jeralt was there to see it too.

Rhea isn’t in her chambers. Instead, Cyril silently directs her out into the star garden. Byleth smiles at him and slips past him, heading outside. Rhea stands in the centre, silhouetted by the setting sun. She still isn’t wearing her regalia and faces away from Byleth even as she approaches.

“Can you hear her, Professor?” Rhea asks quietly.

“No,” Byleth replies. “Not since I changed.”

Rhea looks down and lets out a long sigh. “What changed this time? Why did she return to you last time?”

Byleth crosses her arms. “When I went back, I severed most of my bond with Sothis. It was repaired mostly when we merged again, but she told me that we were different this time and that she did not know if she could ever reach me again.”

Rhea finally turns to look at her. “Perhaps if we continued to test your faith and abilities,” she began.

Byleth shakes her head. “No, you misunderstand. Sothis told me that she hoped I would never have a need for her power again.”

Rhea deflates a little and turns to look away from Byleth again, inclining her head to stare up at the darkening sky. “I see.”

Rhea doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but Byleth doesn’t leave. She waits.

“Do you know that I am still fading?” Rhea asks. “I doubt there will be much recovery for me after what happened in Shambhala, no matter the rest that Cyril and Seteth and Flayn insist I take. I have something to ask of you, Professor. I know that originally I brought you into this despite your wishes and those of your father, but I hope that you might consider leading the church in my place. Even if Sothis has truly left us this time, you shall soon be this world’s last real connection to the goddess.”

Byleth is shocked. Of all the things Rhea could have asked, this is not what she had been expecting. “Rhea, I did not believe in the goddess before all of this unfolded. I cannot hear her voice anymore and I am not a holy person.”

“I disagree. For the time that I was imprisoned in Enbarr, you fought with my knights. You led my armies into battle and you appeared as the image of my church.” Rhea turns back to her. “You have already led these people, won’t you do it again?” Byleth steps back. She frowns involuntarily and Rhea lifts a hand patiently. “Do not worry, I do not expect you to make a decision immediately. If all goes as I hope, you will have some time to consider this offer.”

“Rhea,” Byleth murmurs. She can see it now: how the archbishop is barely standing and how exhausted and defeated she looks.

Rhea smiles softly. “Go, now. There will be parties for you to attend and this world has a victory to celebrate. It would be a shame for you to miss that.”

- ~ -

Hilda knows how to throw a party. She had turned every inch of Garreg Mach into a celebration and had strongarmed every single former student and staff member into the finest of clothes. Dorothea’s Opera Company was performing a few beautiful numbers and local musicians had been performing otherwise, keeping a steady flow of music.

The main hall of the monastery looks reminiscent of the fateful ball in the Ethereal Moon of five years ago. It is a truly beautiful sight to behold. Former students and friends twirl on the dancefloor and laughter and conversation fill every inch of the room. Byleth feels warm all over, despite Rhea’s proposition weighing heavily on her mind.

“Professor!” Hilda exclaims.

Byleth turns and sees the Goneril noble. Hilda is wearing a beautiful red dress that clashes just enough to be eye-catching with her bright hair. Hilda sweeps forward and grabs Byleth by the arms, leaning in and kissing each of her cheeks in greeting.

“You look incredible!” Hilda compliments. “I knew that would be a perfect dress for you.”

Byleth plucks at the silky fabric. It is much, much fancier than any robe or dress she had worn before, but the dark fabric glimmers with silver inlay every time she moves, making it look like ripples of silver are holding the dress together. Byleth laughs and smiles warmly back at Hilda.

“This whole thing is incredible, Hilda. I think Dimitri may have to hire you as his Royal Party Planner once everything settles down.”

Hilda laughs and winks. “Well, anything to build up my resume, right?” She clears her throat. “Anyways, I have actually come with a message. Claude wanted to speak to you, but he said he hadn’t been able to locate you and I said he just hadn’t been trying hard enough.”

“Claude?” Byleth says, surprised.

“He said you’ll know where he is waiting. No idea what he wants to see you for though. Oh, there’s Marianne and Lorenz! Professor, you must excuse me!”

With that, Hilda is gone, darting off into the crowd again and Byleth knows exactly where Claude will be waiting.

- ~ -

“You always did know how to keep a guy waiting,” he says as she reaches the top of the stairway.

Byleth raises an eyebrow. “I could have not come,” she points out.

Claude shrugs. “Hilda’s persistent. She would have made you come, even if you hadn’t known where I would be.”

Byleth crosses the goddess tower to stand next to him on the balcony. The monastery looks beautiful below them, all lit up and lively. She smiles and leans forward, taking in every inch of it. After a moment, she looks back at Claude to find him watching her with a soft smile on his face.

“You’re staring,” she points out.

“I’ve got something worth staring at. You look beautiful, Byleth.”

Byleth feels her cheeks warm and she instinctively fiddles with a lock of hair by her ear. “Thank you.”

Claude watches her for another moment like he’s trying to memorize the moment. The light from below casts odd shadows on his eyes, but the green of them is dancing and absolutely mesmerizing.

Byleth finally breaks their eye contact and looks out over the monastery. “I know I have usually been the one to offer you advice, but I was hoping you might advise me on something,” she begins quietly.

“Anything.”

“Rhea asked me to become the archbishop when she steps down.”

Claude is silent for a moment as he processes. Then: “You should.”

Byleth turns to him, her brow furrowing. “How can you be so sure? You don’t even really believe in the goddess.”

Claude shrugs. “I may not, but there are thousands of people in Fódlan who do and they need a leader to look up to.” His grin widens into something more playful. “Besides, then I’ve still almost got my wish in having you lead the people, haven’t I?”

Byleth smiles despite herself. “You really think that it is worth it?”

“For all the good you could do for people? You can change the church into something better. Embrace differences, remove the power from Crests, and tell the right stories. You and Dimitri, you’ll have the opportunity to bring this land together and to prevent anything like what we went through from happening again.”

Byleth’s mind catches on the wording of his statement. “Me and Dimitri?” She faces him and touches his arm. “Claude, where are you in this situation?”

He inhales. “Ah, and here I was hoping to pull a fast one on you.”

“Claude,” she says, her tone firm.

Claude angles his body so that they are face-to-face completely. “Byleth, I love you,” he says and there is no lie in his voice. “I love you more than I ever thought I could love someone. When I first saw you, I wanted to use your power to my advantage. I wanted to use you to make my dream of a new world come through. But, after all that we’ve been through, I now know I just wanted to see that world come to be with you.”

He pauses and reaches into a pocket on his jacket. “I have something I want to give you.” He takes one of her hands and presses something into it.

Byleth uncurls her fingers and looks at what he has given her. It is a gold ring with an emerald set in it on a gold necklace chain. “Claude,” Byleth murmurs, her voice catching.

“Before you say anything, I have to explain something else,” he admits. “I have put the Fódlan blood in my veins to use as best as I can. I have more plans and dreams I wish to see through that require me to be elsewhere and I know, as much as it pains me, that you can’t be elsewhere right now.”

Byleth feels dizzy all of a sudden. The ring in her hand and the words he speaks seem to mean completely different things. “Claude,” she says firmly. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I love you with everything that I am. But, I’m saying I need to leave and you need to stay.”

Byleth closes her eyes and breathes deeply. Her eyes burn with the warmth of tears. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Byleth, look at me.” She does. Claude cups her face with his hands. His gaze is so soft it nearly hurts. “I need you to stay and I need you to choose Dimitri. I need you two to build the Fódlan we have dreamed of seeing. I have to go home now and I have to make changes there, so this has to be it.”

“Can you tell me where ‘there’ is, at least?”

Claude chuckles and uses his thumb to wipe away a stray tear on her face. “You haven’t guessed yet? I thought Nader and the whole bit with Fódlan’s Throat had been clear enough.”

“Almyra,” she says quietly.

Claude doesn’t respond and leans forward until their foreheads are pressed together. He closes his eyes and just breathes for a long moment. Byleth raises her own hands to cup his face. She lets the ring he gave her rest against his cheek as neither of them moves.

“Why the ring?” she asks. “If you’re leaving and I can’t choose you, why did you give me this?”

“Because I am a sentimental fool,” he whispers. “And I will always love you and even if we are not together how I might have hoped, I hope you’ll keep me close to your heart through everything.”

“Put it on me?” she requests quietly. She leans back and pulls her hands from his face. She places the ring and chain in his hand and turns her back to him.

Claude brushes aside her hair and gently drapes the chain around before fastening it. She turns back to face him and places her hands on his collarbone. Claude slides his arms around her waist and he pulls her into a tight hug. Her arms lock around his neck and she presses her face against his warm skin, trying to memorize the feeling of him in her arms.

After a long, lingering moment, Claude shifts and presses a warm, heartfelt kiss to her temple. He hesitates to pull back and whispers to her:

“I love you. With everything that I am.”

He pulls back and steps out of her space. Byleth gets one more soft smile and a last glimpse of his troublemaker green-eyed gaze and then he’s stepping back into the shadows of the goddess tower and vanishing into the gloom.

Byleth presses a hand over the ring around her neck and closes her eyes. “A new dawn for all of us,” she whispers to the empty tower.

- ~ -

Byleth remains alone at the top of the goddess tower for what feels like an eternity. She stares out over the monastery and ponders Claude’s words, his confidence in her to change the world for the better. She thinks about Rhea’s request and the options she has in her future. She thinks about Sothis and what the goddess would have made of everything.

She thinks about her father and what he would have thought about the turmoil in her heart.

Her silence is interrupted by heavy, familiar footsteps. Byleth turns and sees Dimitri appear from the shadows. He looks handsome in fancy royal regalia and someone has obviously made an attempt to tame his long hair, pulling it mostly out of his face. He smiles when he sees her and steps towards her.

“Professor, I had been looking for you,” he says. “Claude told me you would be here.”

Byleth swallows and touches the ring around her neck unconsciously. “I’m sorry I was so hard to find.”

Dimitri’s gaze lands on the ring and he looks surprised for a moment. “Professor, did someone give you?” he leaves the question almost unfinished in his surprise and Byleth catches a tinge of sadness in his voice.

She smiles sadly and shakes her head. “No, it’s a token from a friend, that is all.” She drops her hand from her chest and reaches for his hand, pulling him to stand next to her. “Look at the monastery like this. It’s so beautiful.”

Dimitri doesn’t take his eyes off of her face. “Breathtaking,” he agrees.

Byleth feels her cheeks warm and she looks away from him shyly. “Did you want to speak with me about anything in particular?”

Dimitri laughs, low and gentle. “You know, I don’t know that myself. I suppose I was just seeking your company. You have a way of making me feel more like myself, especially in a room full of people.”

Byleth nods. “I know that feeling. I am glad you came to find me. I actually have something I wish to ask you.”

“Of course.”

“How do you know you are ready to be king of a united Fódlan? How do you know that what you do will be enough?”

Dimitri sighs. “In all honesty, I do not. I can only hope what we have accomplished in ending the war and routing Those Who Slither in the Dark and forging the relationships we have with Alliance and Empire citizens will be enough to start us down the right road. I do hope that the church will continue to stand with me as I move forward.”

“Rhea has asked me to become archbishop,” Byleth says abruptly.

Dimitri is surprised, but he touches her arm gently. “If you do not wish to accept the position, no one would blame you. You have earned a life of peace and quiet. That said, I would feel honoured if you would serve beside me to help me guide Fódlan to a new, brighter future.”

Byleth smiles softly. “A day ago, I would have rejected this offer, but now I feel I have gained some perspective on everything. When I accept, we will have the opportunity to make the best of this situation. We will have the chance to change the narrative and be the guardians of peace I have hoped would arise from this conflict. And,” she turns toward Dimitri, raising a hand to his cheek. “We would have time. Together.”

“Byleth,” Dimitri murmurs. He raises a hand and gently removes hers from his face and instead cradles it between his own hands. “These are the hands of a woman who has saved me countless times. You brought me back from the beast I had become and you helped ensure that this world would have a future to look forward to. We once walked it as a professor and a student and now we shall have the chance to walk it as an archbishop and a king.”

He holds her hand with one of his while the other reaches into a pocket on his jacket in a move that startlingly echoes Claude. He pulls out a silver ring set with two small diamonds and a larger sapphire.

“Byleth, you have been my ally through everything. I do not understand everything you have been through and those things that Rhea said, but I know you have been with me through everything. You may not have chosen to lead my house, but I believe you have led us all into this new age, regardless of that. You have been my ally through everything and I have come to find myself quite reliant on you. You are beloved to me and I hope that you might accept this offer to stand by me for a while longer.”

Byleth raises her other hand and touches Dimitri’s face. “Dimitri, if you doubted for a moment that I don’t love you, then you have been mistaken. I have loved you completely and agonizingly through everything.” She glances at the ring he holds.

“This was my mother’s ring,” he says quietly. “My mother, not Patricia. I had hoped you might accept it.”

Byleth feels herself smile softly. “My father gave me this,” she pauses to remove the beautiful silver ring she wears on her index finger, “and told me that one day he hoped I would give it to someone I loved just as he loved my mother.”

Dimitri’s eye widens in surprise. “Then,” he murmurs softly, trying to process what she is saying.

Byleth plucks the ring from his grip and swaps it with the one she had been wearing. “Dimitri, my love, surely I mustn’t need to spell it out for you.”

He exhales shakily and leans down to press their foreheads together. “My beloved, I had only hoped. I had been afraid for so long and knowing that you chose Claude and the way that he looks at you, it had made me fear for what connection I share with you.”

Byleth exhales shakily. “Dimitri, I will not lie to you. A part of me loves Claude very dearly. But, I cannot forget, nor shall I ever forget, that I loved you first. And I am choosing you.”

Dimitri pulls away just enough that she can see adoration and love glimmering in his eye. “And I will choose you until the day I die, my beloved.”

Byleth slides his ring onto her finger and then glides her hands up to rest on the sides of his face. “We have earned this peace and I intend to make the best of every moment.”

She pulls on him gently and he does not resist as he lowers his mouth to hers and kisses her. He is warm and solid against her as his arms slide around her waist and her arms drop behind his neck. Byleth feels warm from the tips of her fingertips to her toes. Her chest is singing.

Alive, her mind whispers. Alive and beautiful and mine.

And it is good.

[flamespun]

tag drop: lysithea