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She’d tried to tell herself it was admiration gone amok.
No one had ever impressed her so, not in all the years of her life. Of course she was rattled by her narrow escape from the jaws of death, her eyes following the movement of sea-blue hair as the thief’s blow was deflected effortlessly. Of course she would be fixated for a short while on the mercenary who’d saved her life.
But Byleth was more than a sword-for-hire who’d gotten off a lucky parry. She was brilliant in battle, which wasn’t remarkable in itself--Edelgard was often surrounded by the best of the best, both at home and during her time at the Officers Academy.
The Professor was also very kind. Edelgard had mixed opinions of kindness; it had its purpose, of course, but could be as admirable as it was foolhardy. But the Professor’s kindness wasn’t like that. It was a confident benevolence, steady and sure like the path of an old, old river carving through a valley. Edelgard had always believed that to open one’s arms to another was to expose one’s heart, but when her Teacher did it, she gave no quarter to vulnerability. When her Teacher did it, she never flinched away from the responsibilities bred by caring.
When her Teacher did it, Edelgard could only come closer and closer, as if in a trance.
As the days grew colder, Edelgard’s sleep became more restless. She tossed and turned thinking of the great task that lay before her, the countless horrors she would face, the suffering her path would inflict on others, all for her cause, for the freedom of Fódlan and all its inhabitants save those who would perpetuate the vicious cycle of Crests and blind duty to a fraudulent faith.
The Professor’s blade was wicked and true. She was rarely injured in battle, placing herself strategically so as to draw attention away from those in no position to bear the brunt of an incoming attack. She had a gift for moving them about on the battlefield, a shrewd eye for the enemy’s weaknesses, and preternatural ability to keep her students out of harm’s way.
She couldn’t force her Teacher to follow her, couldn’t bear the thought of attempting to manipulate her.
And yet the idea of facing her revolution without her Teacher by her side was enough to send Edelgard into a cold sweat. If Hubert noticed the deepening shadows beneath her eyes, he said nothing.
----
The sleepless nights and countless anxieties amounted to naught: as Rhea viciously called for Edelgard’s execution, the Professor’s new, startlingly green eyes slowly met her own, and in that moment a supernatural calm fell over her.
There would be no need to agonize about the possibility of life without her Teacher--Byleth was on her side. Byleth would protect her.
Byleth would always be there.
----
But she wasn’t.
Five lonely years went by.
----
Edelgard’s days were full of the duties of war, duties which could be anything from noble and inspiring to tedious and dreary, losses and victories, rousing speeches and board meetings that lasted well into the night. Underneath it all was the constant zigzag of her hope and despair, once again lying awake because of the Professor.
She stared up at her ceiling wondering what tomorrow would bring, if it would be a day where she was buoyed by hope that someday they would see each other again, or dragged down by the resignation that no amount of hope could bring back the dead.
And her Teacher had to be dead, right? If she was alive, she would have found a way to make it back to Edelgard. They would have at least heard whispers, if nothing else. No prison could have held a woman like that.
Therefore, dead she must be.
----
But...she wasn’t dead!
No, not in the slightest--her Teacher stood before her looking for all the world as if the last five years hadn’t touched her, exactly the same as she had been before that fateful battle, and the ache in Edelgard’s heart became unbearable, the combination of relief and years of grief crashing down on her all at once.
That night they stayed in Edelgard’s quarters, talking until dawn.
Byleth told her...she told her everything .
----
Victory had been inevitable. Where there had been days and months in which peace seemed impossible during her Teacher’s absence, her return heralded something entirely different.
Thoughts she’d dutifully put aside during the war sprung to the forefront of Edelgard’s mind. Thoughts like how beautiful Byleth was, how brave and wonderful. Thoughts of how Edelgard’s body almost hurt with how badly it craved contact with the Professor, how distracting the lines of her profile were, how it might feel to have those penetrating eyes focused on her and nothing else, alone together in a locked room.
These were the same thoughts that had distracted Edelgard during that significant year at the Academy, and where she would have fallen back into her habits of dismissing the feelings as ridiculous and unwanted, circumstances gave her pause.
Hubert had always been her constant shadow, and yet these days it was Byleth in equal measure who occupied the space next to her. During meals together, their eyes would meet. Sometimes Byleth appeared to be watching her hands. Other times it was clear she didn’t intend to be seen at all, standing far from the activity at hand but her gaze never straying from Edelgard’s form.
And it would have been fine if the devotion and gratitude she’d expressed to her Teacher many times before stayed like that between professor and pupil, commander and soldier, friend and friend. “Fine”, not ideal, but fine.
But it wasn’t “fine” anymore, not that night after the council met to discuss new territory boundaries in what was once the western portion of the Alliance and she and Byleth walked alone down the long stone hallway together as Edelgard went on about the distribution of resources should such-and-such border go to so-and-so until she noticed her Teacher had stopped a few paces back, and when she opened her mouth to ask if Byleth disagreed, she instead found a gentle hand at her chin and painfully tentative, soft lips meeting her own.
“My Teacher,” she murmured reverently, at last sinking her fingers into that shimmering sea foam hair, at last breathing out as Byleth breathed in, their chests touching, cheeks flushed, a frisson of heat racing down her spine as Byleth’s thumb ghosted over the pulse point at her wrist.
It seemed that, once again, like every time since this woman had entered her life, Edelgard needn’t have worried.
---
The moonlight transformed into a rainbow of colors as it streamed through the stained glass windows of Edelgard’s bedroom. All was quiet and still.
When Byleth opened her eyes she was surprised to find that the bed was empty, but it became apparent that Edelgard had not been gone long when she spied her in front of the windows, peering out into the night.
Rubbing at her eyes, Byleth sat up, calling out to Edelgard softly.
The Empress was naked, her small body covered in part by the cascade of silvery white hair that streamed down her back and over her shoulders. Byleth’s eyes raked over the flare of her hips, her bare feet. Though she was thin and porcelain, the moonlight caught on the definition of her shoulders as she turned at the sound of Byleth’s voice. Her violet eyes crinkled and she smiled.
Byleth had never seen anything more beautiful in her entire life.
“My love, what are you doing?” she asked quietly.
“I used to lose a great deal of sleep over a great many worries,” Edelgard replied, approaching the bed and climbing gratefully into the arms that were open to her within the warm sheets. “It sounds absurd, but tonight I am awake because I am so...happy.”
Her hands caught Byleth’s, their fingers automatically intertwining. Edelgard looked almost like she couldn’t believe her own words, staring at her former professor in awe.
“I’m happy.”