#and then the big finish where khalid faces down claude | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nicolewrites · 4 years

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We Stand, Fate-Tested - V

Alright, folks, I'm going to make this clear: the second half of this chapter discusses miscarriage. There are some descriptions of one as it occurs, including a brief description of blood. Please take care if this is something that could be triggering or sensitive for you.

Rating: T+ Genre: Mystery, Friendship, Romance Characters: [Byleth/My Unit, Dimitri B.], [Byleth/My Unit, Claude R.] Words: 6,206

Almyra is more enlightening than she imagined it would be. / Politics are painful, but her personal life is almost worse.

AO3 | FFN

V - How Everything Breaks

Garreg Mach University - 19 Ethereal Moon, 732 AU

“Are you really going to stay in town over the break?” Flayn’s wide green eyes were charming and innocent and they made Byleth feel slightly guilty.

“I hadn’t planned on going anywhere and I thought that maybe I could do more work if there were fewer people around,” Byleth explained. She took another sip of her tea and almost winced at the disappointment on Flayn’s face.

“And you won’t come with us to the coast?” Flayn asked again.

Byleth shook her head. “No, I take up enough of your father’s time. I don’t need to tag along with you guys on this trip. I know what it means to you to be able to get to visit your mother. I don’t want to intrude.”

Flayn frowned and nibbled at the tart on her plate. “It’s not intruding if we invite you,” she tried.

Byleth sighed. “I’ll be fine, Flayn. I did this last year too. It’s alright.”

“What’s alright?” Seteth asked as he approached the table, holding his own cup of coffee. He looked between Flayn and Byleth and seemed to read the conversation fairly well. “Is this about the break still?”

“I’m going to try to get ahead on work. I’ve still got paperwork to process before the dig starts anyways,” Byleth excused.

Seteth shook his head. “Byleth, I finished that last week. And the break is for taking time off, so even if you won’t come with us, you must promise you won’t spend the whole time working. Do you have a friend you could visit?”

Byleth briefly considered the option, thinking of Leonie, a girl who had studied martial arts under her father who Byleth had been friends with for a few years during her undergrad. Leonie was in her fourth year of study now and had extended an invitation for Byleth to spend the holidays with her the previous year and would likely do so again if Byleth reached out. Still, she didn’t want to burden Leonie. She knew how hard the girl worked to balance school and a part-time job to pay off her loans.

“I’ll be fine, Seteth,” she said instead.

He frowns, looking much like Flayn had. “You say that and I still worry. What about near Shambhala? Is there anyone you worked with over there who you might want to visit?”

Byleth paused before she could shoot him down. While she wasn’t particularly keen on caving to Seteth and Flayn, there was somewhere she was interested in going for both personal and academic reasons. The brochure had been taunting her for almost two weeks and it had taken her until two days ago to look through it fully and find that Claude had tucked his phone number in the back of it in the event she did decide to visit Almyra.

“What if I went on a trip for research purposes?” she asked. “Is that better?”

“For research?” Seteth inquired. As personally invested as he was, there was just no turning off his genuine curiosity.

Byleth dug into her bag for the brochure and placed it on the coffee table. Flayn picked it up and studied it curiously before she passed it to her father and gave Byleth a surprised look.

“Almyra?” she wondered.

Byleth shrugged. “It’s an itch I want to scratch. I’m running into all the same walls as other people. Maybe something could strike while I’m there.”

Seteth hummed in agreement. “It’s an idea for sure. I’m interested to know what you think about these too,” he added, tapping one of the small, fuzzy pictures on the inside of the brochure.

Byleth bit her lip. He was referring to the same tapestries that Claude had alluded to the first time they had met. Seteth was correct, too, because Byleth had wanted to see the tapestries since she first heard about them. In photos, she could only see so much, but she was hoping that if she could see them face-to-face she could put aside any lingering nerves about why everyone she knew kept saying she looked like the Guardian of Order.

“I think it’s a great idea,” Seteth said after a pause.

Byleth felt a small smile curve up her lips and she drummed her fingers over the brochure on the tabletop. “Okay,” she agreed. She lifted the edge of the paper and spied the scrawled phone number written on the inside page. “I guess I have a call to make then.”

- ~ -

Jodat International Airport, Almyra - 21 Ethereal Moon, 732 AU

As soon as she grabbed her luggage off the carousel, Byleth called Claude. She tucked her phone between her shoulder and her ear as she lugged her suitcase and purse towards the exit doors. She nearly dropped her phone and swore loudly and was greeted by a loud laugh in response.

“You always curse like that in the heat?” Claude’s teasing voice said through the phone.

Byleth huffed as she managed to situate her stuff so she could keep a grasp on her phone. “Shut it, Claude. Where do I go once I leave the main exit?”

“Head straight for like a minute until you see passenger pick-up. You’ll see me.”

Byleth exited the airport into the bustling pick-up zone. A gust of warm air fluffed her hair and Byleth stifled a groan at the radiating heat. It was the Ethereal Moon and it was still as warm as it was in the summer at Garreg Mach here. She didn’t want to imagine what it would be like during Blue Sea Moon or Verdant Rain Moon.

True to his word, Byleth spotted Claude almost immediately as she walked out. He was leaning against a fancy silver car, grinning at her over a pair of sunglasses as she approached. He pushed off the car and opened the trunk for her as she arrived at his side.

“You know, Teach, when you said you’d consider it, I didn’t think you’d actually be coming here.”

Byleth shrugged. “I wanted to get away,” she offered as an excuse.

Claude quirked an eyebrow. “Sure,” he replied nonchalantly.

Byleth dumped her suitcase in the trunk of the car and quickly lifted her hair into a makeshift ponytail. Claude watched her with a smile and waited for her to get more comfortable before he walked around to the driver’s side of the car. It felt a bit weird to see him outside of the university setting, especially since he was dressed in stylish white pants and a long-sleeved black shirt. There was no way that he wasn’t burning hot, but he didn’t seem phased at all.

Byleth got in the passenger side and was almost immediately taken aback at how nice the car was. She glanced from the leather dashboard cover to the fancy console to Claude and gave him a skeptical look.

“This is snazzy,” she commented dryly.

He laughed. “Child of a diplomat, remember?”

Byleth immediately rolled her window down and looked out curiously. She had never been to Almyra before and the bustling airport in the capital had a very different feel from the big airports in Fódlan.

Before she or Claude could say anything else, there was a high-pitched female shriek from nearby. “Khalid!”

Byleth blinked in surprise as she watched a trio of girls across four lanes of pick-up traffic wave frantically and try to fight their way towards the car. She looked at Claude.

“Friends of yours?”

“Nope,” he replied evenly and started the car. He pulled smoothly away from the curb before the girls could get close to their car. “If you put the window up, the AC will feel better,” he suggested as if nothing had happened.

Obliging, Byleth rolled up the window but kept a cautious gaze on her host. “Who’s Khalid?” she asked Claude.

“No idea,” he said in the same casual tone of voice.

Byleth noted that his hands were tight on the steering wheel and he kept his sunglasses on, covering his eyes. He was hiding something. “Claude,” she pressed, “who’s Khalid?”

“Some celebrity I’m sure. She must have mistaken me for someone else. Maybe she mistook you for someone,” he suggested.

Byleth crossed her arms. “Aren’t I owed a bit of honesty if I came all this way?”

Claude sighed heavily. “Look, I’ll explain everything soon, okay? None of it will make sense right now, so just pick a radio station, okay?” He gestured to the console in the front of the car.

Byleth fiddled with the dial until the speakers in the car crackled to life. A smooth, upbeat song filtered through and she recognized it. It was a pop song from Fódlan that was playing all over the radio stations back home too. Not trusting herself not to turn directly to some random Almyran news channel, she left it.

“Thanks for picking me up,” she said to Claude.

He grinned again. “Hey, I’m honestly glad to be out of the house for a bit. Besides, I don’t often get visitors out here so I’m happy to be your guide for a few days.”

Byleth dug for the gallery brochure in her purse. “And what makes you so sure that you can even get me into the gallery?”

Claude smirked. “Don’t you trust me, Teach?”

Byleth glanced out the window to look at the city as they drove by. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice,” she admitted. Claude drove past the highway exit for the main downtown and she looked back at him. “Where are we headed anyway?”

“You’re not going to freak out, are you?”

“Do I need to be freaking out?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged. “Debatedly,” he said cryptically as he changed lanes into an exit lane.

“Which part of Jodat do you live in?” Byleth asked instead.

“Do you know much about the city?” he asked, contemplating his answer.

“No,” Byleth admitted. “This is my first time in the capital here. I’ve been through the Locket a few times, but I’ve never been this far east.”

Claude laughed. “Oh, you’re in for a treat then.”

They drove in relative silence after that with the only interruption being the pleasant music of the radio. Byleth studied the architecture of the buildings around her. It was very different from Derdriu or Fhirdiad, the two biggest cities in Fódlan. The sun was shining brightly in the sky, but the AC of the car was refreshing and made it so that Byleth wasn’t uncomfortable in the heat.

After Claude exited the highway, he drove down two or three major streets before getting onto what looked like a private road that led away from the downtown core of Jodat. The area got sparser and sparser until it was like they were driving through private property. She turned back to Claude to ask him about it when she spotted a massive palace ahead of her. Her lips parted in surprise and her question died on her lips as Claude continued towards the palace.

At a gate on the edge of the grounds, security flagged them to a stop and Claude rolled down the driver’s side and passenger windows. A security guard stepped up on either side of the car and they both looked in through the windows, assessing Claude and Byleth.

Claude said something to them in Almyran that Byleth didn’t understand and the guard on the driver’s side pulled away from the car. She watched as he gave a stiff, upper-body bow and Claude just nodded in reply. The guard signalled the security booth and the gate in front of them swung open, leaving them to drive closer to the palace.

“What is going on? Claude, where are we?” Byleth demanded as Claude drove leisurely towards the towering building.

He said something in Almyran to her, smirking and Byleth scowled. When he noted her displeasure, he sighed. “Look, whatever happens next, just promise me you’ll let me explain before you freak out.”

Byleth didn’t get a chance to respond before they had reached the front of the palace. Claude parked the car and immediately got out, leaving Byleth to scramble out after him. He was already pulling her suitcase out of the trunk by the time she shut the door behind her. Byleth craned her neck and looked up at the gorgeous palace before them.

The heavy doors in front of them swung open and a man and a woman ran out, wearing similar uniforms. The man said something to Claude in Almyran and held out his hand for the car keys. Claude dropped them with a sigh and turned to the woman and spoke a few words quickly. The woman clicked her tongue against her teeth and frowned, but turned and walked back into the building.

“Right!” Claude said quickly. He whipped off his sunglasses and tucked them in the front of his shirt. His green eyes were sparkling as he waved his hand towards the palace. “Let’s go inside.”

Byleth felt rooted to the spot. “Claude, what is going on?” she demanded again. “You told me you lived near the Embassy in Jodat.” She gestured to the palace. “This looks like a royal palace,” she trailed off as she said it.

Byleth looked from the fancy building to Claude and then back at the long private driveway, massive gate, and private road leading up to it. She thought about the instant responses of the man and woman at the house and the guard at the gate. She recalled Claude’s reaction at the airport when the girls had screamed at him.

She dropped her purse in her surprise.

Claude winced and quickly grabbed her bag, offering it to her. “Can we have this conversation inside, please?” he requested.

Byleth shook her head to clear it but followed him inside the palace. “Were you ever going to tell me, Khalid?” she asked, putting extra emphasis on the name.

He sighed. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I like the unknowns of everything better,” he said as they walked into a grand entranceway.

“You’re Khalid Al-Qadir,” Byleth pointed out. “You’re the Crown Prince of Almyra and you’re studying at a Fódlani university under a fake name?”

Claude led her down a hallway towards what looked like dozens of large bedchambers. “Khalid Al-Qadir doesn’t leave Almyra. Claude Rahan, the grandson of diplomat Oswald Rigaud, is studying at Garreg Mach.”

Byleth stopped walking. “Same person,” she said bluntly.

Claude stopped and turned to her. “My mother is the daughter of Oswald and I really am half-Fódlani. I just also happen to be the prince of Almyra. Now, my fascinating life story aside, I believe you came all this way to see the Royal Galleries didn’t you?”

Byleth frowned. She was absolutely not done picking at Claude’s cover. But, she did want to get into the Royal Galleries and it made sense that the prince would have access to the galleries and could get her in without the stigma she might normally face as a Fódlani native trying to view the private gallery of foreign royalty.

- ~ -

Almyran Royal Galleries - 21 Ethereal Moon, 732 AU

There were three tapestries. Each was the height of a wall and a full arm span wide. Each tapestry was preserved behind glass with a small inscription card at the base explaining what each depiction was supposed to be.

The first one of the three–the largest one–was the King of Dawn. The King of Dawn had been the leader of Almyra in the Post-Unification Years. The tapestry depicted him riding on the back of a dragon-like beast holding a bow in one hand and the Almyran flag in the other. His features were stoic and neutral, but he didn’t look unkind or harsh, just neutral.

“I was named for him,” Claude said from beside her, his eyes on the woven face of the king. “Khalid,” he explained. “My father wanted me to have big footprints to fill, I suppose,” Claude mused.

“No kidding,” Byleth agreed.

In the hours that she’d been in Almyra, she had managed to wrest the rest of the story from Claude. He chose to study in Fódlan because he had friends there that he had made while visiting his grandfather during Oswald’s work as an ambassador and because he wouldn’t be recognized as royalty. That was the explanation for the fake Fódlani name as well.

Byleth stole a glance at Claude and then looked back at the King of Dawn. “You look like him,” she said quietly.

Claude laughed. “My mother thinks so too. It’s why she thinks it’s especially funny that I chose to go by Claude at Garreg Mach.”

“Funny?”

Claude gestured at the Almyran king. “He supposedly had Fódlani blood too. In the records of saved correspondence we have, apparently he went by a fake name for a while too.” Claude said something in Almyran that sounded a bit like he was butchering his own name and shrugged. “It doesn’t really have a good translation to Fódlani, but it sounds enough like Claude that it’s where I got the idea for mine from.”

Byleth laughed. “That’s one way to fill someone’s shoes.”

Claude gave her a wry smile and nudged her towards the second tapestry. This one depicted a tall blonde man with an eyepatch brandishing a lance toward the sky. It wasn’t hard to recognize the King’s Relic as the lance in the pattern. This was an image of the Saviour King.

Byleth hummed to herself as she admired it. “It’s interesting how Fhirdiad refuses to acknowledge these,” she commented. “They’re the only surviving visual depictions of the King and the Guardian and yet they claim that they’re not accurate.” She shook her head.

Claude pondered that thought for a moment. “I think it’s partly because of the way they’re portrayed. Look at the King of Dawn and how regal he looks in his full royal regalia. This king,” he gestures to the Saviour King, “is wearing battle armour and has an eye patch. Those details aren’t exactly flattering to a figure known in Fódlan as the Saviour King.”

Byleth nodded. “I agree.” She tipped her head to study the features of the Saviour King. “He’s more expressive. It’s like someone described this image to the artist whereas with the King of Dawn it was more of an artist’s free interpretation.”

“You’d be correct in saying that,” Claude affirmed. “All three of these tapestries were commissioned by the King of Dawn. There was also supposedly some kind of enchantment placed on them to preserve them through time.” He smiled fondly. “It’s why they’ve survived so long.”

Byleth turned away from the Saviour King to the last of the three tapestries. On this one, a woman stood pointing a blade high toward the sky. Light seemed to be pouring out of the blade and even out of her. She had mint green hair and eyes and an intense look on her face. Like the Saviour King, she appeared to be dressed in attire appropriate for battle. Notably, she lacked any iconography that would have linked her to the church of the time.

“That’s a woman I would trust with my life,” Claude commented, slipping his hands into his pockets casually. “I still think she looks like you.”

Byleth touched her hair self-consciously. “I don’t know,” she confessed. “I thought seeing her in person would let me decide for sure if all of this was crazy, but I don’t know. She’s detailed too, so I’d bet that the King of Dawn described her to the artist in this image.”

“It means it’s probably accurate in the physical description,” Claude finished. He glanced at her. “They’ve even gotten her sword right which tells me that the person who gave the details for these pieces knew her fairly well.”

Byleth crossed her arms. “Yes. It’s been widely speculated that there was some kinship between the King of Dawn, the Saviour King and the Guardian of Order. If it’s true that the King of Dawn commissioned these pieces, it’s basically proof that they were friends in some capacity or at least that they knew each other better than surviving Fódlani records indicate.”

“Maybe they were friends,” Claude said lightly.

Byleth smiled faintly. “Maybe,” she agreed. “It would make for an interesting historical connection, wouldn’t it?”

- ~ - ~ - ~ -

Royal Palace, Fhirdiad - 7 Great Tree Moon, 1 AU

“If this is an issue regarding unity, we should both be there,” Byleth said firmly.

She placed her hands against the table and pushed herself to her feet. Her fingers crinkled the paper of the map and she immediately flinched at the four separate voices that cut her off.

“No!” they all urged, each in different tones.

Byleth sighed and looked around the room. In the council room of the palace, she felt out of her depth. Usually, if there were disputes, the issues were brought, with her husband, to Garreg Mach, but this had arisen during one of Byleth’s few stays at the palace in the capital.

The meeting this time consisted of Dimitri and herself, Seteth, Ingrid and Sylvain, Ashe, Dedue, and Mercedes. They were really only missing Annette and Felix to have had the whole gang together, but Annette had had responsibilities in Dominic that had required more immediate attention and her fiancé had gone with her.

Sylvain, Seteth, Ingrid, and Dedue had all spoken out against Byleth’s idea.

“With all due respect, Your Grace,” Ingrid began, in a calmer tone, “since the issue is with unity, it’s too dangerous to have you both go. Someone may see that as an opportunity.”

“She’s right,” Sylvain agreed. “If I learned anything from my time dealing with Sreng, it’s that you can’t send all your best soldiers in your first wave. Diplomacy is just a special kind of war.”

They were right, of course, but it didn’t mean Byleth wasn’t annoyed with the fact that she and Dimitri both wouldn’t be able to go. Dimitri sighed and rose from his seat, skirting the table so he stood behind Byleth as he pressed a comforting hand to her back. He could sense her agitation and she knew he didn’t like them being separated any more than she did.

“Then I will go,” Dimitri said.

Byleth frowned. “You have other things to worry about here. Surely I can go?”

Seteth shook his head. “I’m afraid His Majesty is correct. The people in this region,” he paused to gesture at the map, “are not our most pious believers. They were more affiliated with the Western Church before the war so I would not feel comfortable sending you, Your Grace. His Majesty should handle this.”

Byleth folded her arms. “Fine,” she replied shortly. “Is there anything else to be discussed?” She let her eyes flick between her friends.

Ashe shook his head. “That was my only report,” he said. He stood from the table and gave a short bow to both Byleth and Dimitri. “I have some correspondence to write, but send for me when you’re ready, Your Majesty.”

Dedue and Mercedes both spared Byleth and Dimitri smiles before they left the room. Sylvain watched the others leave before he rose from the table as well. He glanced almost warily at Seteth who returned his gaze sternly. After a long moment, Seteth’s eyes narrowed and he bowed to Byleth and Dimitri before sweeping out of the room. Sylvain inhaled like he was trying to gather himself and Ingrid reached up from her seat and took his hand.

“We had something we wished to tell you both before all of this started happening,” Ingrid said, directing the words to Byleth and Dimitri.

“We wed last month,” Sylvain confessed.

“What?” Dimitri asked. Byleth felt him tense behind her. He sounded offended. Byleth knew he was not overly shocked at the fact that his two friends had been wed, but he was surprised that there had not been a ceremony for him to attend.

Ingrid winced at Dimitri’s tone of voice. “Your Majesty, it was a small ceremony. We hadn’t intended for it to go down as it did, but other circumstances had called for it.”

“Other circumstances?” Byleth pressed. She had a faint idea where the conversation was going, but it made something in her stomach twist uneasily.

“The same circumstances that will make it so that I will not be accompanying you on this endeavour,” Ingrid admitted. “I am with child.”

“Congratulations,” Byleth said earnestly. Even though she truly meant the words, they felt bitter on her tongue.

Dimitri chuckled behind her. “I am happy for you both,” he said firmly. “I hope your affair was suitable to you both at least.”

Sylvain laughed. “Well it was just us, Mercedes, and Felix in a tiny room in Galatea, but it was perfect. We’re sorry we didn’t have a bigger celebration.”

Dimitri shook his head. “No, I understand.” His thumb stroked Byleth’s back. “We understand the desire for privacy,” he added.

Ingrid smiled then, a much more relaxed and sincere expression. “Thank you, Your Majesty, Your Grace.”

Byleth forced a smile over the lump that was welling in her throat. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

With that, Sylvain helped Ingrid up and they each gave a short bow before slipping out of the council room, leaving Byleth alone with Dimitri. As soon as they were gone, Dimitri slid his hands up to rub at her shoulder blades. His thumbs pressed into tightened wads of muscles and Byleth tensed before relaxing under his touch.

“Are you alright, Beloved?” he asked quietly. “You’re tense.”

She shook her head. “I am fine,” she assured. “I just find it funny how only moons ago we were joking that all of our friends would be pairing off and now they are. We have Felix and Annette’s wedding next month and Dedue and Mercedes have begun courting as well. From Leicester, we have even heard of Marianne and Lorenz’s betrothal and from Aegir, Ferdinand has proposed to Dorothea. And Sylvain and Ingrid will be having a child.” Her last addendum came out softer than the rest and Dimitri picked up on it.

He dropped his hands to her waist and spun her so that they were face to face. Worry had furrowed his eyebrows and Byleth immediately reached up to cup his face and smooth out his concern with her thumbs. He didn’t seem appeased by her gentle touch.

“I am sorry for the politics that are coupled with our relationship. If we could live quietly in a tiny house on a hill somewhere, I would, but,” he trailed off, looking sad.

Byleth smiled at him and brushed her thumb along the string holding his eyepatch in place. “I know,” she replied. “I am just afraid I am letting you down, my love.”

Dimitri looked affronted. “How would you ever let me down?”

Byleth dropped her hands to cover his on her waist and slid one over her stomach, frowning. “I suppose hearing their news has only highlighted my own inadequacy on that topic.”

Dimitri heaved a breath and quickly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in tightly so she was pressed flush against him. His lips pressed firmly to the top of her head and Byleth traced her hands over the expensive silks of his jacket as he held her.

“We have been married for 4 months, my dear, anyone who is already worried about an heir is crazy.”

Byleth leaned back enough that she could look into his face. “I am worried,” she confessed suddenly.

“What?” he questioned softly.

Byleth shut her eyes. “I don’t know if I’m truly mortal, Dimitri,” she said. “Surely you have noticed that I lack a heartbeat, haven’t you?” The way his brows knit told her that he hadn’t processed the information even if he had noted it. “I don’t know what I am,” Byleth confessed quietly.

“Why would you not be mortal? You are flesh and blood in my arms here,” he said firmly.

“No mortal can wield the Sword of the Creator without a Crest Stone,” she countered.

Dimitri looked concerned for a moment. “What does this mean for you?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe these troubles we’ve had conceiving will never go away. Maybe I will never bear children. Maybe they’ll all be born dead.”

The last thought was so grim that her voice broke and she felt tears pricking against her eyes. Dimitri hugged her even more tightly and kissed her head again. She breathed in his scent and clutched to his warmth for reassurance.

“We will figure this out together,” he said firmly. “We can talk to as many healers as it takes.” He leaned back to stare into her face, his gaze unwavering. “But I will always love you, no matter what happens next, alright?”

Byleth exhaled and nodded. “Alright,” she agreed.

- ~ -

Royal Palace, Fhirdiad - 10 Great Tree Moon, 1 AU

The bed next to her was already cooling by the time she awoke. Byleth’s hand reached across the sheets and found nothing so she blinked her eyes open. She was alone, but there was movement in their chambers. She shifted, pushing herself up onto her elbows as she watched Dimitri dress from the bed.

Her movement drew his attention and he turned back toward her. “Good morning,” he greeted pleasantly.

“It would be better if my husband hadn’t risen without me,” she teased.

Dimitri smiled faintly as he laced his pants and looked around for his shirt. “How unfortunate,” he agreed. “More unfortunately, I do have to leave this morning,” he reminded. “I have made Ashe, Dedue, and Sylvain linger long enough.”

Byleth huffed. “I want to go with you.”

“I know,” Dimitri agreed. “I wish you could join us. But, Seteth is right. We should not test the Western Church at a time like this. The Kingdom is still fragile.”

Byleth nodded. “I know.” A small bead of pain pulsed in her abdomen and Byleth shifted so she was sitting fully to relieve the cramp in her stomach.

Dimitri located his shirt and was pulling it on when he glanced back at her and saw that she was sitting and that the sheet had pooled around her waist, leaving her exposed from the waist up. He immediately turned away and did up his shirt.

Byleth laughed at her husband. “Oh come on, are you really going to just leave right now?” Another cramp twisted in her stomach and she frowned, rubbing the heel of her palm against the soreness. More pain radiated when she touched it and she exhaled breathily against it.

Dimitri heard her and turned back to face her, looking worried. “Byleth?”

She shook her head and closed her eyes as the pain faded. “Just a cramp,” she assured. “I’m fine-” she cut herself off with a gasp as a headache blossomed between her eyes. Pain spiked from her stomach again and she couldn’t hold back the whine that slipped between her lips.

“Byleth!” Dimitri cried out as he bounded across the room. He knelt beside her bed on her side and reached for her. “Byleth, what’s wrong?”

Byleth curled her arms around her stomach and whined at the splitting pain again. “My stomach,” she gasped between the sharp waves of pain radiating out. A particularly bad pain seized her and she cried out in pain.

As the strong wave faded, Byleth felt something wet rush between her legs. Slowly, she reached down and felt for the wetness. When she pulled her fingers back, they were coated in a sticky dark red substance. She and Dimitri both stared in shock at the blood on her hand. Almost immediately after, another strong pain hit her and Byleth buckled to the side.

Dimitri’s arms shot around her as he caught her before she could collapse completely. Byleth’s eyes fluttered from pain and she felt them burn with tears. He immediately reached for the slip draped over the headboard and pulled it around her and cradled her in her arms.

“Byleth, are you alright?” he asked, fear clearly evident in his voice.

“It hurts, Dimitri,” she breathed out as another sharp flare caused her vision to tunnel momentarily. She felt a few tears glide down her cheeks as her headache intensified. Byleth rested her head against his shoulder and tried to steady her breathing.

Dimitri’s arms shifted and then she was suddenly airborne as he held her tightly. “Mercedes!” he yelled.

Byleth’s whole body twitched from pain and Dimitri immediately stood from the floor and made for the door to their chambers, still holding Byleth in his arms. He slammed the doors open so hard that she was pretty sure the wood splintered and yelled for Mercedes again.

Down the hall, in the guest chambers, a door slammed open and Sylvain sprang into the hallway wearing a pair of pants and two different shoes. Ingrid peered around her husband down the hall towards Dimitri and Byleth.

“Mercedes!” Dimitri yelled again.

This was finally enough to catch her attention as Mercedes’s door slammed open and she ran out into the hallway towards them. She reached their side quickly and Dimitri lowered himself and Byleth to the ground so Mercedes could kneel and assess Byleth.

“What happened?” Mercedes asked calmly. Her brow was knit, betraying her worry, but she kept her tone even and clear.

“She was just suddenly in pain and then she was bleeding,” Dimitri said quickly, his voice wavering.

Byleth turned her head toward Mercedes and watched grief spread over her healer’s face. She whimpered when her stomach muscles spasmed and Dimitri made a noise like he had been stabbed as he looked down at her.

“Bring her to the infirmary, quickly,” Mercedes instructed, jolting back to her feet. She spun in the hallway and saw that the rest of the guests in this wing, Dedue, Sylvain, and Ingrid were all standing a few feet back, staring on in horror. “Ingrid, please, I’ll need your help.”

Ingrid looked startled. “Mercedes, I’m not a healer,” she argued.

Mercedes shook her head firmly. “You’re a woman,” she pointed out and then immediately started down the hall to the infirmary.

Byleth clung to consciousness as Dimitri practically jogged with her to the infirmary. As soon as he had laid her down on one of the cots, Mercedes shooed him from the room.

“Absolute not,” he hissed. “I am not leaving her.”

“Yes you are,” Mercedes said firmly. “You will wait outside and let me work, Dimitri.”

His shoulders crumpled and he gave Byleth’s hand a firm squeeze. “Please help her,” he whispered to Mercedes. Dimitri left then, sliding past Ingrid who stood tentatively in the door to the infirmary.

Mercedes immediately set to work creating a poultice of herbs and called Ingrid over. “I need her to eat this,” she instructed, handing Ingrid the bowl of crushed herbs.

Mercedes cast a Fortify spell and Byleth gasped at the relief the spell gave her. Ingrid carefully fed her the bitter herbs and Byleth choked them down, forcing herself to swallow despite the pains that made her gag. Mercedes ran a comforting hand through her hair as she cast another healing spell.

“That’s it, Byleth, it shouldn’t be long now.”

Ingrid held her hand and Mercedes continued brushing her fingers through Byleth’s hair for what felt like an hour before there was a last weak pulse of pain in her stomach that faded. Byleth closed her eyes and just took several deep breaths to steady her breathing. She dimly felt Mercedes move around to her lower body and do a brief clean-up before she came back up to be level with Byleth’s head.

“Byleth,” she said gently, “did you know you were pregnant?”

Byleth’s eyes shot open and she half-sat up on the cot just out of reflex. “What?” she demanded breathily.

Mercedes gave her a sad smile. “I guess that’s a no,” she assumed.

Ingrid squeezed Byleth’s hand. “I’m so sorry, Byleth,” she murmured.

Byleth breathed in sharply and looked between the two women. “Why are you sorry?” When Mercedes didn’t answer immediately, Byleth jerked her hand away from Ingrid and wrapped her arms around her stomach. “Why are you sorry?” she pressed.

“You miscarried, Byleth,” Mercedes said quietly. “We lost the baby.”

A chill spread from the centre of her chest through her whole being and Byleth shifted so she was sitting up. She wound her fingers in the thin silk of her shift and stared blankly ahead at the wall. She hadn’t even known there had been life inside of her. Mercedes and Ingrid, to their benefit, didn’t try to comfort her further. Instead, Mercedes sent Ingrid out to retrieve Dimitri.

In the back of her mind, Byleth heard Mercedes explaining what had happened to Dimitri. She heard him let out a choked sob before he was sitting on the edge of the cot, pulling her into his arms tightly.

Numb, Byleth let Dimitri whisper words of comfort into her ear and she closed her eyes and just listened to the steady thrumming of his heart.

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