Chapter Text

Chapter One: The Calm Before

             The only light in Byleth’s room came from the flickering candles sitting in the center of her circular tea table. Books, neatly organized by author, title, and volume lined her shelf and desk, bookended by stone statuettes of birds she’d purchased in Remire before being hired on as a professor. She’d enlisted her brother’s help to move her dresser and desk against the wall opposite her door to allow for space for this tea table of hers, a luxury that had quickly proven itself a life-saver for relieving stress by conversing with her students. She’d also purchased a teapot and a coffee pot, along with a miniature stove on which to heat both, and a display rack for sweets, though it was empty currently. Her guest wasn’t really known for his love of sweets.

    Byleth and her father sat on opposite sides of her tea table, a cup of tea in her hands and a mug of ale in his, his fourth of the visit in fact. In truth, Byleth much preferred coffee to tea, but given the lateness of the hour, she had opted for a nice black tea, brewed and bitter.

“How’re you adjusting to the new job, kiddo?” Jeralt relaxed further in his chair, a tipsy grin plastered upon his candle-lit face, setting his mug down on Byleth’s table, splashing a bit of ale onto her clean blue tablecloth. She frowned at this, but said nothing; she was far too used to her father’s poor table manners.

             “I am unsure that this still counts as a ‘new’ job, if I am being honest. I have acclimated well enough to it, but I have also been working here for around two months, so it is becoming less unfamiliar.” She took a sip of her tea, gently setting the cup back on its coaster, savoring the bitter warmth of the drink.

             “I guess that’s fair. Your brother’s attitude always makes it feel like it’s still our first week here.” He laughed heartily. “He looks like a fish out of water.”

             Byleth suppressed her own laughter. “That is far too true. Though Caiym’s students certainly seem to admire him.”

             “So do yours, kiddo,” her father said with a smile.

             “I suppose.” Her students, the Faerghus Kingdom’s Blue Lions, were definitely earnest, but whether they liked her or not wasn’t something she’d considered. Felix certainly seemed slightly less cold to her than he was to everyone else, that much was true, and Sylvain’s ceaseless flirting might have indicated positive feelings if it wasn’t Sylvain, but the rest of them treated her no differently from how they treated others, as far as she could tell. Ashe had been especially distant of late, though she was reasonably certain it was his unease regarding their upcoming mission, dealing with his adoptive father.

             “You’ve always been too hard on yourself, huh?” He took a large swig from his mug, finishing off what was left of his ale, and let out a loud belch. Byleth winced. “Well, glad we could chat for a little bit, at least. But it’s getting late, and I’m getting drunk.” He ruffled her hair and stepped out, closing the door to her room behind him. Byleth frowned at the wet spot on her tablecloth, the tipped over mug on her table, the empty ale bottles strewn about, and the crumbs littering her floor. With a deep sigh, she gathered a rag and broom from her closet and set about cleaning up her father’s mess.

             Her own reservations aside, Byleth did have to admit she greatly enjoyed teaching at the monastery. Garreg Mach was quickly becoming a home for her, despite her general lack of faith in the Goddess and her unease around Rhea, no, Lady Rhea, she corrected herself. The other professors treated her well enough, and most of the students were amicable at least towards her, with the exception of Ferdinand from her brother’s Black Eagles, though admittedly that animosity was almost entirely on her end. Regardless, she’d grown fond of a good many students, especially Hilda, from the Golden Deer house, with whom she had quickly become friends, although not entirely by her own choice. Hilda was rather insistent on spending time around her, though Byleth could not even begin to understand why. She did appreciate the company, however, and she couldn’t deny that having another woman in her life after so many years with just her father and brother for actual companionship was a breath of fresh air, even if she had no idea how to interact with people. She’d also formed something of a bond with her house leader, Dimitri, who oftentimes seemed eager to please her and share her company. She couldn’t help but admit she liked him, perhaps more than she should; she’d caught herself daydreaming about him on occasion, and he fit the “prince charming” archetype she’d always dreamed about. She was ashamed of herself for these fantasies, deeply ashamed, but regardless, they came, often unbidden.

             With a deep, exhausted sigh, Byleth removed her dress, a traditional dancer’s attire covered in multiple metal bits and pieces of flowing cloth that left her legs exposed in the front, as well as her left shoulder. Despite the complexity of its appearance, it was easily removed by simply undoing the shoulder clasp. While she wasn’t a dancer herself, Byleth liked the way it moved and flowed as she performed the motions of spellcasting, and even more as she practiced the martial arts she’d learned from her brother. The various loose parts were likely a liability on the battlefield, but she didn’t especially care; it looked nice. She removed her glasses as well, wiping off the lenses and fumbling around for their leather case. With all of her disrobing finished, she curled up on her bed and closed her eyes.

*          *          *

             “He terrifies you? Really?” Byleth said, stirring her curry half-heartedly. The dining hall was full of chatter, but the three girls, Byleth, Hilda, and Marianne, had found a spot where they could talk in relative quiet. Each had a different food on her lunch plate. Byleth’s curry had been a last-minute request; she wasn’t especially hungry, but the thought of something spicy had sounded appealing to her. Hilda’s plate had a small portion of sauted fish and vegetables. Marianne’s was similar, albeit with just the salad rather than the fish. “My brother is not that scary.”

             “Yeah, to you , professor!” Hilda stretched out the sound of the word you , emphasizing it almost cruelly. “You’re totally used to him! But to me, he’s like, the scariest. Right, Marianne?”

             “M-Me?” Marianne gasped, nearly dropping her fork into her salad. “Um, I guess he can be a little intimidating, but I don’t really-”

             “See, professor?” Hilda said, cutting off her timid friend, “He’s intimidating! Even Marianne says so!”

             “Hilda, you didn’t let me finish,” Marianne said, somewhat meekly. “He can be a little intimidating, but I don’t think he’s terrifying exactly. I mean, I thought he was at first, but…” Marianne blushed as her voice trailed off and her eyes fell to her plate.

             “Oh. My. GOSH!” Hilda squealed. “Marianne, you’ve got a crush, don’t you? That is so totally adorable!”

             “H-Hilda! I don’t have a crush, I just… I…” Marianne blushed deeper red and tried to bury her face in her hands.

             Byleth giggled. “Stop teasing her, Hilda,” she chided insincerely. “At this point, you are just being cruel.” Despite herself, Byleth was smiling, something she’d been doing more and more since coming to the monastery.

             “Right, right. Sorry, Marianne,” Hilda said halfheartedly. “Anyway, what about you, professor? Anyone here catch your eye?”

             It was Byleth’s turn to blush. “What? No, I- Well, okay, maybe, but- Wait no, I mean no!” she sputtered.

             “Maybe? Oooooh, you gotta tell me who! Wait, no, let me guess… You spend a lot of time with Felix, right?”

             “That is only because he is persistent in his efforts to spar with me, nothing more! Ever since I disarmed him in practice that one time, he refuses to let up! I keep telling him I am not much of a martial artist, nor do I have much skill with weaponry, and yet he is so… so stubborn! It is more vexing than endearing. Um, but he is not to know I said this.”

             Hilda grinned mischievously. “Of course not, professor!” she said with a wink. “Besides, it’s not like I talk to Felix all that often anyway. Talk about cruel! And boring. Right, Marianne?”

             “Me? Again?” The unmistakable clatter of metal-on-ceramic sounded through the dining hall as Marianne’s fork dropped from her hand. Once she regained her composure, Marianne said “I-I don’t know, I’ve never spoken to him. I guess he is a little scary?”

             “And boring!” Hilda added. “Right, so it’s not Felix. Hmmm… okay, maybe I can’t guess. You gotta tell me, professor! Is it Dimitri? Petra? Dorothea? Yuri? Sylvain? Oh goddess, it’s not Sylvain is it? Oooh, or Seteth?”

             “P-Please, Hilda!” Byleth couldn’t see her own face, but judging by how warm it felt, she imagined she must have been redder than her curry by now. “I-I am a professor; it would not be right to have interest in a student!”

             “Aha!” Hilda’s face lit up. “So it is Seteth! I really should’ve guessed he’d be your type. So you like older men?”

             “Hilda, please stop this! I really dislike talking about this kind of thing, a-and furthermore, I do not have feelings for Seteth, or anyone here.” She was only half-lying. She couldn’t deny that she felt something for Dimitri, but she wouldn’t exactly consider her feelings romantic. Though she was uncertain what, exactly, romantic feelings felt like. She knew what lust felt like, certainly, but her only knowledge of love and romantic attraction came from the cheap, raunchy romance tales she’d read for self-satisfaction on her travels with her father, and the flowery, intense language those authors used to describe love, while colorful, was far from evocative of how she felt about anyone, nor was it the prose she’d paid the most attention to.

             “Okay, okay, sorry professor,” Hilda said half-heartedly. “Anyway, you seem a little bit more comfortable teaching lately! I’ve noticed your lectures are much less stiff than they used to be, and you’re stuttering a lot less too.” 

    Byleth relaxed, grateful for the change in topic. “Yes, I suppose that is true. I did teach my brother how to read when we were younger, so I suppose I am just carrying on with the same methods as I did then.” 

“I’m glad you’re getting more comfortable with it. Though your awkwardness was pretty cute, too.” Hilda stood, stretching her arms toward the ceiling. “Well, lunch was fun! I’m glad you chose to eat with us today! Oh, and when are we meeting for tea again?”

             “I believe the best time for that would be once I return from my mission this month. I have a lot of work I have to catch up on before I leave, so I will more than likely be too busy.”

             “Okay! Well, whenever you’re free! Come on, Marianne, we’ve got combat training next!”

             “Um, right. Good day, professor.”

             Hilda wrapped her hand around Marianne’s and the two girls walked away together. Byleth couldn’t help but smile at such a simple action. For all Hilda’s teasing, the two did have a deep bond with one another. At times, she envied the two of them. As friendly as she was with Hilda, she still felt distant from everyone else. Even her brother and father.

             Jeralt was a bit prickly with everyone and often hid a lot of his feelings behind sobriety, only really opening up while intoxicated. Caiym, on the other hand, despite her earlier defense of him, was hard to approach. He was taciturn, grim, and seemed perpetually angry. She knew he had a softer side, given his protectiveness towards her and his devotion to his students. Even so, she found him hard to talk to. His expression seldom changed from a dour frown, and he could often be somewhat insensitive. Plus, he had no heartbeat.

             As Byleth turned to walk out of the dining hall, she saw him. Her brother sat alone, his dark hair falling over his empty blue eyes. He was resting one elbow on the dining hall table, hand contemplatively over his mouth as he surveyed his surroundings with practiced caution. His left hand rested on the iron sword at his side, never out of arm’s reach. His dark armor and coat, offset by the bright red designs on his chest, seemed to blend in with the shadows, as though he were emerging from them. His brow was furrowed either in thought or in anger, she could never tell which. Before him sat a platter of sweets: a slice of frosted cake, topped with a strawberry; a half-empty cup of peach sorbet; some kind of baked fruit pie; a small plate of cookies. In his right hand, obscured by its positioning, sat a pouch of sugary fruit juice. “Sister,” he said, nodding.

             “Brother,” she replied. “Quite the healthy lunch you have there. I see at least some fruit.”

             His frown deepened. “I had meat with breakfast.”

             At that, she couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course. How rude of me. Regardless, it is quite unusual to see you eating alone. Usually one of your students has to drag you to the dining hall.”

             “Not today.”

             “So I see. Enjoy your lunch, brother,” she said, walking towards the exit.

             “I am.”

             Caiym glanced her way, briefly, then returned to his meal. She was right. It was “unusual” for him to eat alone. He wanted to think. Alone, if possible. He’d even told Sothis to shut up. Something about the mess with Lonato bothered him. Not that he knew what. The timing, perhaps? It seemed suspect that Lonato would choose this month of all months to attack. According to Yuri, “the writing had been on the wall,” but even still, it seemed sudden to him. Perhaps he had been spurred onward by someone?

             And perhaps you’re thinking too much, Sothis interjected.

             I told you to shut up.

             And I complied for a while. He could picture her now, lounging on that throne of hers. But you are getting nowhere. Is it that difficult to accept that this situation is merely outside of your understanding?

             No. But I feel like it isn’t. There’s something I can’t see. He felt his brow furrow. It’s like a puzzle. I have the pieces, but I can’t figure out where they go. Or something.

             Or maybe you think you have the pieces, but you do not. You might be experienced in combat, but you’re still new to this kind of life, remember.

             Caiym glared at no one in particular.

*          *          *

             The training ground was alive with the sound of wood hitting wood. Sylvain and Ingrid stood opposite Felix, all armed with training swords, taking turns striking at one another. Ashe fired arrow after arrow into the archery targets lining the back wall as Hapi sat and watched intently. Annette swung a training axe at a training dummy while Mercedes cheered her on. A few spots down, a shirtless (well, more shirtless than usual, having discarded his coat) Balthus, nominally a Golden Deer though not technically a student anymore, threw jab after jab at Dedue, who blocked each one with careful poise, as Yuri watched, seemingly transfixed, or at least humoring Balthus with a faux-transfixed stare. 

“Professor, are you quite certain you don’t want to participate in our drills?” Dimitri’s voice rang out above the din of practice battle behind him. “I know you tend to favor magic, but, as Annette can attest, these drills do make for good exercise.”

             Byleth smiled. “If you insist, then I suppose I may as well.” She rose from her seat on the half-wall around the central combat area and took a position before him, marveling, not for the first time, at his towering figure and striking blue eyes, framed by his unkempt blonde hair and easy smile. He was what she imagined the great heroes of storybooks looked like, heroic and beautiful at once, towering above her.

             Byleth , she warned herself, he’s your student.

             Dimitri took up a practice lance, offering another to her. The training weapon was far too heavy in her hands, with its wooden build and iron core. Dimitri gave her an apologetic glance at the sight of her struggling. She smiled back, adopting a fighting stance she believed she had seen her father take once or twice when training.

             “What are you doing, Professor?” Dimitri laughed. “That stance is far too off-balance. May I?” Byleth nodded, thoroughly embarrassed. Dimitri put his strong hands over her left arm, lowering it, then adjusted her right leg, bringing it in more. “Like this, you should be more able to keep your guard. Shall we begin?”

             “Indeed.”

             Byleth raised her weapon in a salute, and her student did the same. Dimitri lowered his weapon, point to the ground. Byleth took an unsteady step forward. To hell with this, she thought. She tossed her lance to the ground and dashed at Dimitri, unarmed. He blinked twice, not anticipating the sudden rush nor the discarding of her weapon, but adjusted his stance. He met her initial punch with a stab from his lance, banking on the larger reach of his weapon compared to her bare hand. Anticipating this, Byleth snapped her arm to the side, using her momentum and his spear’s distance from his center of gravity to turn the point aside. In a fluid motion, she lifted her knee, striking at his chest, though she stopped just short.

             “Remember to expect the unexpected,” she said, returning to a resting stance. “But I do not think combat training is conducive to my usual methods. I apologize, but I believe it best if I observe for now.”

             “As you wish, Professor.”

             Dimitri returned to a neutral stance with his lance, moving through several basic forms. Eventually, the summer heat proved to be too much for the prince of a cold land, dressed as he was in all black. He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a muscled, scarred torso beneath it. Byleth blushed, staring at him despite herself. The sunlight reflected off of him, causing him to almost glow in the summer heat. He resumed his drills, seemingly blissfully unaware of his professor’s staring.

    “That’s a damn shame, professor,” Sylvain called to her. “I was hoping to see you exert yourself a bit today.”

    “Unfortunately, exerting myself is not my job. Keep your eyes on your own match.”

    “But I’d rather keep them on y oof. ” Sylvain doubled over as Felix caught him in the gut with his training sword. Byleth smirked slightly.

             After a while, with her class’s physical training for the day completed, Byleth returned to her room under the setting sun, unable to stop her heart from fluttering as it was.

*          *          * SMUT HERE *        *          *

             Byleth squirmed in her bed. The day had been exhausting, between Hilda’s teasing, her work with the Blue Lions, and Sylvain’s incessant flirting, and yet she was restless still. It wasn’t coffee this time; she’d had her last cup shortly after lunch. She tossed and turned, fruitlessly. She could feel a familiar ache in her lower body. She sighed and slid a hand down between her legs, rubbing herself gently. She let out a small gasp. It has been far too long, she thought, as she slid her middle finger inside, letting out another moan. Her other hand found its way to her breast, teasing her nipple in a circular motion. Unbidden, almost alien, an image entered her brain. It wasn’t one of her trashy romance novel heroes, but rather the head of her Blue Lion house, Dimitri, sweat glistening on his shirtless body as he trained with his lance, his muscles rippling in the sunlight, tightening with each practice thrust. She closed her eyes, fixating on the image. Her sighs and moans grew faster as she neared climax. She rolled onto her stomach and buried her mouth in her pillow to muffle them, bucking her hips somewhat from the pleasure. She bit into the fabric of her pillowcase, sliding her ring finger inside her and thrusting it and her middle finger at a frenzied pace. All at once, she felt a rush of sensation in her lower body. Her thighs twitched and her legs fell out from under her raised hips. She muffled a loud sigh of release with her pillow as her entire body went limp from the pleasure, tears welling in her eyes. Within minutes, she was asleep.