Chapter Text
Perched as it was on a rocky outcrop, there was always a breeze on Garreg Mach's grounds, but nowhere more so than on the bridge to the cathedral. Edelgard's cloak flapped and snapped in the wind like a leashed hunting dog, eager for the chase. The missing span of the bridge had been covered with planks until more permanent repairs could be made, perhaps after the war, but few dared brave the creaking wooden boards. Yet there, standing in the centre of the planks, peering into the chasm below, stood Byleth Eisner.
"Hello, Byleth," Edelgard greeted her even as she did her best to ignore the creaking beneath her boots. Hubert would surely disapprove of her being here.
Byleth's lips curled into a tiny smile. "Hello, Edelgard."
Warmth shivered through her whenever Byleth spoke her name, as she'd asked her to do when they were alone—which was happening more and more as the weeks went by. Sparring had turned into tactical discussions which had turned into tea which had turned into talking of things unrelated to the war, though somehow Edelgard always found herself divulging much more than her taciturn new friend. She was such a contrast to Shez who was forever talking of her mercenary days, and was as forthcoming as a chattering blue jay.
She came to stand next to Byleth, their shoulders almost touching. "We missed you our tactical meeting this morning," Edelgard said when Byleth remained silent.
"I only got back a short time ago. The people our scouts had spotted were only bandits. We took care of it."
Edelgard suppressed a sigh. She wanted to believe that they'd eliminated the last of Thales's forces but there remained always that slithering doubt. "Well I suppose that's good news then. With things settled here we can turn our attention to the Kingdom." A noncommittal hum was all the response she received. She'd expected some comment about the war in the north, about the length of the march or the logistics of moving the army there; even when Byleth had little to say, she always had remarks to offer about the practicalities of warfare or battle. She'd gone riding with Byleth once and when they'd stopped on a hilltop with a view of the valley below, Byleth had commented that it would be a good strategic position in a fight. When Edelgard had said it also had a lovely view, Byleth had peered at her for a few moments and then turned to stare at the landscape for minute before agreeing that it did. It was as if it had never occurred to her to notice.
It was difficult to gauge what Byleth was feeling most of the time and impossible to guess what she was thinking so Edelgard finally just asked. "Are you all right? You seem quiet even for you."
"Sorry." Byleth gave herself a shake and the planks beneath her creaked. "I was… thinking."
"And why did you choose this particular spot for that activity?"
Byleth peered down into the forested ravine below them. "I was thinking about the archbishop. Do you think she could have survived?"
Edelgard's eyes darted downward to the long, long fall to the bottom of the gorge. "I don't see how."
"She turned into the Immaculate One. And since we've no way to confirm that she's down there..." Byleth gestured to the ravine and again the boards groaned in protest.
"Could we continue this discussion somewhere less precarious? Hubert will have a fit if he hears I was standing out here."
Byleth glanced around as if only now realizing how little separated them from a harrowing plunge to their doom. "Oh. Of course." She reached out to clasp Edelgard's hand and led her off the damaged bridge and towards the cathedral. Edelgard's heart gave a little thrum of surprise and pleasure at the pressure of those fingers around her own. No one else would have dared. She was the emperor after all, but that seemed not to matter to Byleth.
The cathedral remained in shambles after the battle with Rhea and Thales. Byleth picked her way through splintered wood and a rainbow of shattered stained glass, pausing every now and then to look around, as if she were scanning for foes. "I'd like to talk privately," she said.
Edelgard thought it was unlikely that anyone would be waiting here, but there were several small buildings attached to the chapel so it wasn't impossible someone might be skulking about. "I know where we can go."
Byleth followed her as she made her way to one of the side exits to the cathedral and towards a narrow stone path at the end of which rose a tower covered with climbing vines. It was with a sense of glee that Edelgard forced open the door and ascended the spiralling stairway with Byleth in tow. When they reached the top, they found themselves in a small, empty chamber that opened onto a narrow terrace with a stone balustrade. Sunlight slanted in from the terrace, pooling in the centre of the room.
Byleth paused for a moment to scan their environs and then moved to the terrace. "What is this place?"
"It's called the goddess tower," Edelgard replied. "I've always wanted to come up here but the opportunity never presented itself while I was attending the Officers Academy."
When Byleth turned, there was the faintest curl to her lips. "It has a nice view."
"Does it now?" Edelgard joined her on the sun-drenched terrace and made a point of taking in the sweeping vista: the azure sky above and the verdant green of the ancient pines at the foot of the crags on which Garreg Mach had been built. "It has a magnificent view," she said.
Perhaps Byleth really had learned to appreciate it, because she looked out at the landscape for a while without speaking, shoulder to shoulder with Edelgard. Edelgard snuck a glance at Byleth, noting the striking line of her jaw and high cheekbones, the brilliant green of her eyes, the softness of her lips—and promptly turned a brilliant scarlet when Byleth caught her looking.
Edelgard cleared her throat. "You said you wished to speak to me about something? Does it have to do with the archbishop?"
Byleth considered this for a moment. "Possibly."
"She seemed to recognise you during the battle."
"My father says I resemble my mother. The archbishop knew her. I…" Byleth's hand moved to her chest, hovering over her breastbone. "There were things I would've liked to ask her. About my mother."
"I'm sorry," Edelgard said softly. "I truly would have preferred to have captured her alive."
Byleth stepped away from terrace and began to walk the periphery of the chamber, her fingers trailing along the stone walls and the gnarled vines as if checking for hidden doorways. "Professor Hanneman asked if he could test me for a crest. I declined."
Edelgard stiffened. She had brought up the topic herself on one or two occasions and Byleth had seemed amenable to it then. What had changed? "May I ask why?"
"I know what crest I have."
"Oh?"
Byleth stopped in her tracks and spun to face Edelgard, her brilliant green eyes snaring Edelgard so that she could hardly draw breath. "The same as yours."
Confusion warred with something else, that strange tug she always felt when Byleth looked at her that way, with a sort of intensity in her startling green eyes. "The crest of Seiros?" Edelgard said, brow furrowed.
Byleth shook her head. "No. The other one."
Edelgard froze. She tried to school her features and become again the emperor of Adrestia, not the girl who was so taken with this peculiar mercenary who could be at once so magnetic and so alarming. "Did someone tell you I had a different crest?"
"Not a different crest," Byleth insisted. "A second crest. The same as mine. The Crest of Flames."
Edelgard's mouth went dry. It was a closely-guarded secret, one she had shared only with a few trusted allies. Who among them would have told Byleth though? Many in their ranks—Hubert chief among them—still distrusted her given her reputation as the Ashen Demon and the transformation she'd recently undergone. Others simply found her odd and had not spent a great deal of time with her.
"I can… feel it." Byleth held out a hand as if reaching out for some invisible substance that hung in the air between them and bound them together, something as unseeable as a crest but every bit as real. "Is that why Thales said they'd made you into a monster? They gave you the Crest of Flames?" And when Edelgard again made no reply, Byleth stepped closer. "I think something was… done to me… when I was born. By the archbishop I think. My father realized something was wrong and he took me and fled the monastery."
This confirmed what Hubert had managed to uncover about Byleth's past, excepting of course Byleth's suspicions about the archbishop. "And your mother?" Edelgard asked.
"She died giving birth to me." She tapped her breastbone. "I think something was put inside me—in my chest—when I was born."
A shiver of fear set gooseflesh prickling Edelgard's arms. She knew of experiments conducted by those who slither in the dark to create demonic beasts that had involved implanting a host—animal or human—with a crest stone shard. Their goal had been to create an army of monsters powerful enough to take on the Immaculate One. Could the archbishop have carried out similar experiments? And if so did it explain Byleth's transformation and powers? Edelgard's hair had gone from brown to white after the blood reconstruction surgery so perhaps…
Byleth's expression did not betray alarm even though she'd just suggested she'd been a test subject in some sort of medical or magical procedure. But the very thought left Edelgard furious enough that she wished the archbishop really were still alive just so she could strike her down. What right did these beings—the children of the goddess and those who slither in the dark alike—have to interfere with human lives as they did?
"If the archbishop is really gone," Byleth said, eyes downcast, "I'll never know for sure what happened. That's what I was thinking about on the bridge."
For a minute neither spoke and Edelgard was acutely aware of the distance between them. Just a few minutes ago they had stood side by side on the terrace, bathed in morning sunlight. Now, Edelgard stood in the light slanting in from the terrace but Byleth, at the far end of the chamber, remained in shadow. She wanted to reach out to her, to close the distance between them and—and do what, she wasn't entirely sure. What she was certain of was that she wanted to be near her, to let her know that she understood what it was to be manipulated by outside forces, to have the course of one's life irrevocably altered by them.
"Those who slither in the dark performed a series of procedures on me and all my siblings to try to imbue us with Crest of Flames. I'm the only one who survived the process. They wished to make a weapon of me to destroy Archbishop Rhea." The shadows made Byleth's eyes seem a darker shade, blue almost, when she looked up at Edelgard.
"But Thales is gone now. He can't control you anymore."
Edelgard let out a long breath. "Yes, I certainly hope that's the case."
"I'm not certain that's the case for me."
Goosebumps prickled Edelgard's arms. What could she say to that? She knew what it meant to live with a blade against your throat, always wondering when the blow would come, when the threat would be issued, wondering when she would become the monster they'd wished to make her. "Byleth, I cannot promise you answers but I will do everything in my power to assist you."
"Thank you," Byleth said though she made no move to approach Edelgard again and for a long moment they remained in silence.
"What made you decide to tell me?" Edelgard asked quietly. Her voice sounded hollow and distant beneath the high ceiling of the chamber. "About what was… done to you."
When Byleth looked up she wore a slightly puzzled air. "I suppose I feel like I can talk to you." Her brow furrowed. "I do talk to Shez as well and my father, but it's different with you."
Edelgard's stomach fluttered. "I've heard that people with the same crest sometimes feel a special kinship. As if they were family."
Byleth tilted her head and peered at Edelgard. "I feel that except… I don't think I think of you like a… sister."
The way Byleth said that so plainly made the blood run to Edelgard's cheeks. Finding herself unable to put together a reply, she simply held out her hand. Byleth reached for those outstretched fingers and stepped back into the sunlight.