#but no she keeps quiet and only is used to wonder if Sothis' daughter is using the power granted by Sothis which is like

[randomnameless]

Don't forget Marianne being worried about Edelgard's feelings in Azure Gleam as another prime example of Edelwanking; that's a strong contender for the top spot, given how it takes someone who's on the receiving end of an invasion and makes her uwu about whether the leader of said invasion is feeling okay, while giving no fucks about the danger said leader is putting herself and her allies through for the sake of a landgrab.

Hot take,

I was actually pretty milquetoast about Marianne during FE16, then the momo sobfest from FEH made me sigh, and her perf in Nopes, especially in Golden Shower "They see that magic as the goddess's protection? Their faith has blinded them!" and "People do horrible things when their faith becomes tainted with fear. We must stop them at once!" was just... ugh.

(Rhea's magic comes from Sothis you moron, as a Nabatean her powers come from Sothis herself! And yes, their faith has been tained by fear because you and your stupid general are assaulting them and they're making their last stand! no amounts of "i'm still not sure we're doing the right thing" can be used as a plaster to make up for those leaps in logic!).

The GD in general just became friends of Supreme Leader, and all this uwu about her, regardless of the thousand randoms (even from the Alliance and, hell, her own people!!!) dead/suffering is just icing on cake.

Just like Lys who wags her tail because Supreme Leader gave her some sweets, the GD peeps have no substance and are of no interest to me tbh.

The only ones who might get a pass are Ignatz - whose existence legits shits on "crestless people live trash lives and can't marry sad uwus" even if the games ignore his existence, and Leonie who is one of the fews in FE16 to hold Supreme Leader accountable for Jerry's death when Billy "if someone killed my father I would hate them" themselves has the "can't we uwu" or "must we kill her sad uwus" choice - Nopes demolished them but I grew fond of those randoms joes earlier than Nopes' release, and Ignatz has the Mona Rhea support to boast (pissing on Clout's "reasoning" btw!).

#Anon #replies #Mary Ann #her existence proves Supreme Leader and Clout's nonsensical plans are based on horse shit #but no she keeps quiet and only is used to wonder if Sothis' daughter is using the power granted by Sothis which is like #sure sure the writers fault from a doylist pov #but at this point I lost all patience for characters who from a doylist pov should make sense but watsonian wise don't #re the clout and Supreme Leader thing #crest gives ppl unfair advantages at life despite muhrit? Here Marianne is a perfect example of the contrary #Church bans trade? Marianne's dad became rich and a Lord of the Roundtable thanks to his money influence from trading with overseas places #but no instead we will have Mary Ann throw shade at people being afraid because they're attacked #FE16 #3 Nopes

[argent-vulpine]

Growing Closer

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Rating: g

Characters: Seteth/Byleth

Read it on AO3!

Despite the rather abrupt start to their relationship, Seteth knew there was a war on, and that Byleth would be called to lead. She was a tactical genius, after all, and despite the presence of others who were nearly as competent as she, she remained the premier general of the armies in the war against the Adrestian Empire. As such, he had insisted that they keep their relationship… not necessarily a secret, but certainly more restricted.

They took moments together when they could, but she was busy being both general and Archbishop. He did his best to help whenever he could, be it on the field or - more commonly - at the monastery, dealing with paperwork for the church, while still maintaining the search for Rhea. He had strongly suspected that she was being held in Enbarr, and when finally the day came to rescue her, it was of little surprise how she had been kept, though his heart ached for her.

It was only after she had been returned to them that he discovered the truth of Byleth’s existence. He had suspected for quite some time that Rhea had done something to the professor; even had Byleth not told him of the lack of heartbeat, he would eventually have discovered it on his own, he was certain. And when the truth came to light, the puzzle pieces slotting together, he knew that Rhea had done something terribly, terribly wrong.

He had missed Sothis, too, but it was not worth sacrificing the life of another to return her to them. That Byleth carried Sothis’ heart in her chest, her crest pulsing in her blood, and the goddess’ spine in her hands for battle was a cacophony of macabre machinations by the goddess’ own daughter. He wondered, too, if Byleth had suspected at least the origin of the Sword of the Creator, for she rarely wielded it unless she felt there was a great need, and even then he could see her lips twisting in distaste.

She was like family to him. In more ways than one. Even Flayn had taken to her as more than just the professor. She treated her like a sister, or perhaps something a little more. Not quite mother, but not… not a mother, either.

And still, by the time the war against the empire had ended, he had not yet told her the truth about himself or Flayn. Oh, she knew that he was really Flayn’s father; that had happened long ago, before the war. Before her fall.

No, it was time to let her know the truth.

Rhea had left for Zanado, a self-imposed exile perhaps as penance for the sin she had committed upon Byleth, and the knowledge that her mother was truly gone, merged with the professor to save her. He knew that she had revealed herself to be Seiros to Byleth, that much he had been told before she had departed. But she had left the decision to him what he would tell the new Archbishop.

He paced in the main room of her - their? - suite, hands clasped behind his back and brow furrowed in thought as he awaited Byleth’s arrival. She’d had some things to see to, documents regarding Fódlan’s future alongside that of the church itself.

Reform was coming, and while he didn’t disagree with much of it, he wondered if perhaps they weren’t moving too quickly…

The door creaked open, allowing Byleth to slip into the room, puffing out an audible sigh as she removed the ornate headdress of her station and set it down on a nearby table. Gently, he noticed, though he could tell she rather wanted to throw it across the room instead.

“Oh, Seteth, you’re here already,” she said, eyes widening slightly in surprise before a small smile bloomed on her face.

“I found that I could not wait,” he replied, moving to meet her as she approached and wrapping her into a tight hug. He rested his chin atop her head, eyes closing and enjoying how she fit against him, small and warm.

“Excited?” she asked, her ear pressed against his chest and listening to his heartbeat. “Or nervous?”

“Perhaps a bit of both.” He sighed, steeling himself, and pulled away. “There is something I… feel that I must tell you. I had wished to before, however…”

“There wasn’t a lot of time during the war for complicated conversations.” She nodded understanding, lifting on her toes to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I can’t imagine there would be much that you could say that would surprise me, though,” she added with a small grin.

“Ah, well… there may yet be.” He coughed slightly, clearing his throat, and looked more nervous than he had since their first night together.

She lifted an eyebrow, curious and waiting.

Seteth never fidgeted… except for right now, when he was unsure how to really begin. “You are aware that Rhea is, in fact, Saint Seiros,” he finally began, straightening up as if it could shield him from what he was about to reveal.

She nodded, gesturing for him to continue, though nothing in her features changed to give away her thoughts.

“Rhea - Seiros - is not… the only one who remains. Seteth is not the name I have always gone by, nor is Flayn her true name. I am-”

“Cichol. And she’s Cethleann. I know, Seteth,” she interrupted, sparing him and reaching up to press a hand to his cheek, her thumb gently stroking his skin. “I suspected something was amiss even before the war, but it wasn’t until our run-in with Macuil that I knew for certain.”

He blinked, startled, lips parted in shock before he finally found his voice again. “What… how… how did you know?”

She gave a soft snort, pressing a quick kiss to his other cheek before stepping away to remove the Archbishop’s gown he knew she disliked so much. “Flayn wasn’t the most subtle, to be honest, even before she joined my class. She’d made comments about her childhood being ‘so long ago’. Her manner of speech is even more stilted than yours. Your birthdays align with those of the saints, and you carry their crests.” She gave him a mock glare, shaking her head. “I’m not a master tactician for nothing, Seteth. But I suspected you had reasons for keeping it quiet.”

There was a pause, and then she shook her head, laughing softly. “I might not have put the entire puzzle together, except that when you and Flayn joined us on our little expedition to that oasis… well. Macuil was not exactly quiet, and even though Flayn kept shushing him, some of the things I heard him say to you and to her settled it all for me.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him in the middle of tugging off the overdress. “Were you concerned that I would take it poorly?” she asked, curious.

He seemed to deflate in his relief, striding over to her and helping her to remove the offending garments. “It had crossed my mind that you might not look kindly on it, yes.”

“Hm.” Overdress removed, she turned to face him, cupping his face between her hands. “Seteth, I had a goddess in my head nattering on at me for almost my entire time as a professor. Before that, I spent most of my life not remembering a great deal of things, except for fighting and staying alive. If it weren’t for my father’s journal, I wouldn’t even know my real birthday, much less birth year. I know that you weren’t here for what Rhea did, and I know that you didn’t approve of it once you found out, but it was far too late to reverse it.” She smiled wryly. “Well, not without killing me, I suppose.”

She took a deep breath, catching his gaze and holding it. “I love you. I want to be with you. The little matter of you being Saint Cichol doesn’t change any of that for me.”

It took a moment before her words hit him, and he found himself breaking into a broad smile, crushing her to him in a firm hug, pressing kisses wherever he could reach. Only when the tension fully drained did he step back, attempting to smooth down his coat and her hair, returning some sense of decorum. “I… yes. I hope you know how much I care for you, too, Byleth.”

“Seteth,” she said, giving him a pointed gaze. “You can just say it, you know.”

“… I love you.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, huffing out a soft sigh. “I have loved you for quite some time. Of course I was going to be… concerned.”

There was a long pause, and then he pulled back, brows furrowing as he considered something she’d said. “How did you know that was Macuil? … and what did he say?”

Laughing, she pulled away and explained everything she’d heard, down to Flayn shushing the great beast and calling him ‘uncle’.

#Seteth #Byleth Eisner #Setleth #Seteth Birthday Bash 2020 #Seteth BB Week 2020 #Fire Emblem #Fire Emblem Three Houses #FE3H #day 5: family #Lettuce Fam #mentions of Macuil #look that whole paralogue contained some SHIT if you took Seteth and Flayn #way to keep it under wraps you great horned dingus

[script-the-skeleton]

FE3H AU that I want to write but don’t know 100% of the lore of the game to accurately depict.

After trying multiple times for a golden ending, Byleth resets one last time with a new plan that could be her last

She remeets Sothis. “How many more tries must we do this? It will never work, we have tried everything! Oh? Well, I have always wondered what would happen in the End.”

Byleth smiled at her father and calls him such for the first time before heading into battle.

Byleth takes the knife for Edelgard but doesn’t rewind time. She dies, the last thing she sees is Eldelgard’s terrified and regretful face. In that moment, her hair turns the light green and the Ashen Demon is no more.

Jeralt is heartbroken, and furious because Rhea definitely did something to his kid with that hair, so he agrees in a rage to go back to the monastery. He wants to bury Byleth with where he thinks her mother is buried and fight with Rhea.

The Lords all are affected from Byleth’s death, they asked this person for help and they died for them. Claude is silent, Dimitri prays for her soul to be put to rest, and Edelgard can’t comprehend why a stranger would throw away their life for her. She feels extra guilty since the bandits were her fault and now she killed an innocent. None of them can stop apologizing.

They get to Garreg Mach and the real differences begin here. Jeralt yells and argue with Rhea, but can ultimately do no more than demand Byleth be buried with his wife. He stays for a month for her funear before leaving with his mercenaries.

The third teacher is Jeritza, but he somehow gets stuck with the Blue Lions. Hannerman is with the Black Eagles. Maneula is with the Golden Deer.

That’s when the clock breaks.

The three main lords start seeing and hearing things. They’ll blink and they’ll see a different proffessor in front of them. They’ll hear the song of the goddess from dark corners or the slashing a bone sword going through enemies. They remember timelines that shouldn’t exist in fragments and they are all secretly going insane.

Hubert tries to push Edelgard to continue with their plans, but she was so affected by Byleth’s death that she tells him to hold off. She doesn’t know why, but it pained her so much that one death. Hubert obliges, but TWSITD are restless.

Throughout the story, the respective teachers help each house. Mercedes finds out Jeritza is her brother and them connecting again leads him to branch off from Edelgard’s plans, because he doesn’t want to hurt his sister. Manuela recruits Dorathea with her aspirations to continue opera and even helps Ignatz with his paintings. Hannerman recruits Lysithea and they research over her multiple crests. Edelgard hears about this and joins, coming to realize how much TWSITD are responsible for her pain and not the church.

TWSITD attack even though Edelgard has declared that she would no longer help them and would activly fight against them if they pushed. They are pushed back from the tomb and other holy areas, the the crypt that supposedly held Seiros’ remains was empty, no sword in sight, as they three lords defeats their soldiers.

After that battle, the three lords no see a figure take shape in their rooms. They are mix between Sothis and Byleth, making them look slightly younger than Byleth, so around 17 or 18, and they don’t know who they are, not even their name. The talk to the lords and act like Sothis did in the game. Dimitri thinks its another ghost from the past, projecting the mercenary who died for them, and ignores it. Claude talks to it every once in a while and has pleasent conversations. Edelgard tries to ignore it, but eventually uses it as a therapist whenever she needs to talk to someone.

Remire Village and the attack on Garreg Mach have little to no causalities. Flayn was never kidnapped, so Monica never showed up, and Jeralt wasn’t even there so he never died. The Flame Emperor also never makes an appearance in general.

The following month still left a lot of people feeling dour for reasons they didn’t understand.

Edelgard recieves word from visiting her father that TWSITD are planning one more attack to steal the crest stones. She is crowned emperor and quickly runs back to the academy. She admits to Dimitri and Claude, after the ghost tells her to trust them, that she was being puppetee by TWSITD and that she hasn’t followed them in months, she leaves out the part where she tried to kill them at the beginning of the year, and ask for their help.

They agree and take on the battle in the maseuleum, or however you spell it. TWSITD are there and they fight back. They all notice a figure up on a magnificent throne, she is sitting upright and unmoving and was wearing clothing of the goddess.

“It’s her!” They all say at once as they recognize an older version of the ghost, the greened haired Byleth on the throne, a sword in her lap.

Rhea comes in after the enemies retreat and tells them to leave the area. Edelgard pushes and asks why that woman was on the throne and not buried, and how come her body hadn’t rotted away since she died. Rhea refuses to answer and even threatens them to stay quiet, but still thanks them for protecting what was sacred.

Edelgard thanks the two lords for helping her and she tells them that she will be leaving school early to help dismantle TWSITD.

Following that day for the next five years, the only time they ever see the ghost is when it is asleep and drapped over a chair.

FIVE YEARS LATER!

Edelgard declared her empire seperate from the church, cutting all ties off except for trades while still allowing the faith, without declaring war. Rhea is furious about this but Seteth makes sure she doesn’t do anything rash. Edelgard is still looking with the help of her classmates for the remains of the Agarthins, who have been hiding from her.

Claude is leader of the alliance and is setting in place laws that would end discrimination against foreigners and those without crests. He even visits Almyra frequently, though no one is exactly sure who. He never officially said anything against the church, but it isn’t a secret that he isn’t a believer.

Dimitri no longer sees ghosts of any kind and is a fair ruler to his kingdom. He is the only lord that has close connections to the church and even still talks to Rhea. He has good relations with the empire also, so much that the people say he and Edelgard are like siblings.

Hannerman, with the help of one crest stone that Edelgard slipped him after that one attack, learned the secrets to multiple crests. Lysithea and Edelgard are both free, leaving them with no crests which they are fine with, and their lifespans have lengthened. Their hair even turned back its natural color.

As for the ghost, it always appears in the highest ranking chair to fall asleep in the room the lords are in. Edelgard can no longer sit on her throne without feeling rude, so she is never near it. Dimitri has swapped out his throne for another chair, lying and saying he wasn’t worthy for his father’s throne. Claude doesn’t have a throne, just the head of a table, and he never really sat down when he talked. The ghost also shivers frequently, like they are cold. Weirdly, putting a blanket over it seems to work.

Then, on the 1000 year anniversary of the church being built, the ghost vanishes and is no where to be found. All three lords are going to the ball held at Garreg Mach for their reunions and to show that they hold no ill will to the church. When they get there, they all have the feeling like something is wrong, but they can’t place it.

Individually, they all go to the goddess tower, for they make out the image of the awake ghost. When they make it up there, no one but the living are there and they finally realize that they can all see the ghost. They come to the conclusion that this was something that had to do with the corpse in the basement.

The ball is interupted with spears of light start blowing up the world. Fives years without war led to the Argathins seeking power and they are attacking. All three groups, plus some of the church, find and defeat all the Argathins.

This part isn’t expanded on here because there isn’t much to it except its the endgame of the Golden Deer/Silver Snow path and they defeat the big bads while everyone is still alive.

After the battle, they all go back to the church and go look for the corspe. They find it along with Rhea, who fights them to keep them away.

They defeat her and she admits that she tried to raise the goddess back with Byleth, who held her power. The ghost reveals herself to be the fusion of Byleth and Sothis to Rhea and yells her out mom style about how idiotic is was to try to bring her back at the risk of other people.

The ghost explains how she wanted a perfect ending where everyone was alive and no one fought, and they only way to that was her death, which kickstarted Edelgard realizing her mistakes. She asks them to say hi to Jeralt for her, says goodbye to her daughter, and fades away.

This whole AU I really wanted to explore what would happen if Byleth did die and I realized how much that would’ve affect Edelgard. The war might’ve still happened, but Edelgard was pushed forward by how Byleth was treated by Rhea and by TWSITD. I also like imaging a timeline without Byleth where all the lords keep seeing her and can sometimes talk, but she isn’t really there. I just imagine Dimitri’s internally screaming, Edelgard’s seen weirder, and Claude still calls the ghost teach through instinct and just spills the tea of his daily life to her.

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #au #sothis #byleth

[sabineelectricheart]

A Divine Vision

Summary: Gilbert is praying alone in the cathedral when he receives a sudden visit of a mystical being.

Rating: K+ - Suitable for more mature childen, 9 years and older, with minor action violence without serious injury. May contain mild coarse language. Should not contain any adult themes.

Words:1800

Notes: Yes, a Support fic. Very unoriginal. Sue me.

The hour was late. The monastery was quiet, not even the animals in the woods around Garreg Mach were bustling with any sort of noise.

Predictably, the cathedral is empty. Not even Dimitri, who usually hung around the pile of debris, was anywhere to be seen, and this is how Gilbert preferred it, so he could pray to the Goddess in peace. He knows the breath on his lungs was a violation of his holy covenant with Sothis and the Blaiddyd royal dynasty, but he could not help but find his prayers absolutely shameful

If he had done his job properly, there would be little need to pray for the dead, after all.

“Eternal rest grant unto them, O Goddess, and let perpetual light shine upon them.  May their souls and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. May the King and his family rest in peace and amongst their brethren. Amen.”

As soon as he finishes his prayers, he hears a pebble falling from the mountain of rubble. His sensitive ears, honed by years of military service, alert for a presence within the cathedral. His large right hand grips the sword he carries around his waist, ready to draw in defence.

More and more pebbles fall, and anxiety grows exponentially in the heart of the knight. Whatever it is, it is probably big.

Soon, Gilbert turns his eyes toward the source of the noise. He realizes the rubble is not falling down; rather, it is oddly falling up, higher and higher.

As he looks to his left, a strong pulse of force passes through him, and while it is mostly harmless, it does banish the numerous pews away. The broken glass on the windows is quickly restored to its former glory, depicting the twenty-six known patrons of Crests.

Finally, with the nave completely and magically rebuilt, the clouds clear and moonshine bathes the altar. Gilbert remembers it is only the first crescent, and the light should not be strong enough for such clarity in the temple. Alas, the Moon shone as if it was larger than full.

The cathedral is as beautiful as it was five years ago, but with a most important difference. By the altar, sat a large stone throne, which carried the symbol of the Holy Flame. It was the throne of the Goddess at the Blue Sea Star.

There, lounging comfortable on the hard stone as if it was the finest cushions in Adrestia, was a girl. Not too young, about two and twenty, but still much younger than his sixty years on this earth. She donned fine silk and gold, in a short fit on her lithe body. Her hair was green and voluminous, held up by an encrusted band and flowing down the entire length of her back.

“Oh, hello there, sir knight.” She greeted amicably. “How are you faring this evening?”

Gilbert strengthened his grip on the sword and took a step back. Innocent-looking or not, this was a powerful being, and it would not do to lower one’s guard.

“Oh, please, sir Pronislav. This are not the manners your mother instilled you with, and I am sure it has not passed so long for you to forget them.” The girl sneers derisively. “We are amongst friends here. Drop your sword and come closer.”

“I know you not, fiend.” He grumbles, trying to keep his voice steady. “Let me leave and you shall not have anything to fear from me.”

The girl chuckles, as if the notion amuses her. “Whether I release you or not has absolutely no bearing in my fear from the likes of you. I wish you could just recognize me, dear knight, it would make for more efficiency, but if you insist to be so, very well.”

Suddenly, from the yards that separated them, Gilbert was thrust forward, kneeling over the feet of the girl, who looked down with an amused smile on her face, as if waiting for the punch of a very funny joke. It was terrifying.

Though, truth be told, he was not thrust with force or violence, but rather as if the space between them did not exist anymore. It was as soft as a blink.

Gilbert, then, raises his eyes to the figure. From the feet decorated with gold, to the left hand on a lean hip covered in silk and the pale green eyes of a muted Summer. He knows this person.

“Pro-professor!” He stutters. “What is happening?”

The green-haired teacher lets out a melodious and unrestrained laugh. “Not quite, sir knight. You see, the one you call professor and I are, indeed, two faces of the same being. Alas, for now, we are separated. I who stand before you am Sothis, the Goddess of this land. You may address me as you prefer.”

His breath catches on his throat. “It cannot be!”

“It is what it is, sir knight.” She dismisses with a wave. “Or would you prefer I call you Gustave? Your mother has introduced you to me by this name, after all.”

He says nothing, still shell-shocked with the ramifications of what he must be seeing. Is he dead? Mortals are supposed to meet with the Goddess only when they pass. Or is he hallucinating, perhaps?

“It is very rude to call one you have evoked for so many times a hallucination, you know? You are not dead either. This is boring and I have much to do, so believe what you want, I do not care.” The so-called goddess huffed. “Now, you have come to me with a request, one you have brought forward many times. What is it?”

The old man frowned. “Are you not the Goddess? Should you not know?”

“Indulge me, will you?” Sothis rolled her eyes. “If I am the Goddess, then you are my servant and should do what I say, not question me. If I am the professor, she would not know any of it. If I am a hallucination, well, there is no one else for me to talk to other than you, and I would think it preferrable to waste a few moments in redundancies.”

Gilbert sighed. “Very well. I have asked for King Lambert Blaiddyd and his wife to rest in peace.”

“Which one?” She chuckled, as if finding her own joke amusing. “I jest, I jest. You would do well smiling more, you know?”

“Excuse me, your holiness, but I did not find it funny at all.” He responded, with his face in a frown.

“Fine, fine.” She dismisses. “Tell me this, then. You have a goddess before you, one who can grant you any desire you might ever have. Why do you ask for the rest of a long-dead king?”

“Is there anything else I can do?” He counters. “You must know I was in service of the royal family, yes? Of the oaths I have taken in your name? When I was only a young soldier, the king saw fit to make a knight of me. I was given the great honour of guiding and protecting the royal family.”

“Yes, yes, I recall.” Sothis says, as she takes a seat on the throne, as if the subject bores her so. “You have taught both Lambert and Dimitri on the lance, you have offered your candid advice, you have served them faithfully even in face of reservation, which you have certainly had a lot. Until…”

“Until that day.” Gilbert finishes the woman’s phrase. “I was...powerless. When I received word of the attack, it was already too late. His Majesty was dead, along with many knights and soldiers. If only I had made it to Duscur more quickly...”

“This is for me to know and you to wonder.” The green-haired girl smirks. Her teeth were clean white and straight. “Then what happened?”

“After that, I abandoned my wife and child, and fled my homeland. I turned my back on everything I swore to protect.” The warrior finishes the tale with a forlorn look on his aged face. “It is my fault that the King has died, and it is my fault that His Highness, Dimitri, has become... The way he is now. My sins are countless. I will bear the weight of my guilt for as long as I live.”

Sothis avoids his ice-blue eyes, in a solemn expression.

“Perhaps you will, indeed. I have no bearing on the hearts and minds of my children, adopted or otherwise. Only you are the lord of your soul, Gustave, and only you will decide when it is time to let go of the guilt.” The mystical being declared, and then looked at him with a softer look. “However, you must know that praying will not help them.”

“I repeat, what else can I do?” He spats, bitterly. “Apologizing to my daughter and wife. Devoting myself to His Highness. That is the way to atonement, and yet... Even if I am granted the forgiveness of those who still live, praying is all I can do to atone to those who are with us no more...”

“Oh, Gustave��” She says as if he is a naïve child. “I cannot say whether Lambert or Patricia live in my realm or were banished to Ailell, and I cannot say whether you shall end up, either. What I can say, however, is that, wherever they ended up, it was by their own making, not mine or yours. What I can say is that the concerns of the dead are hardly past grievances or the way of their death. What I can say is that, while past actions warrant repent and reflection, there is only one path, and it is forward.”

“Long ago, there was someone who told me something quite similar, and yet, I still find myself unable to follow through with this advice.” The man sighed, worn as if he had returned from a long war. “Forgive me. This will not do. As I grow older, I find myself talking endlessly about the past.”

“Don’t they all?” She smirked. “It seems our time is coming to a close. I cannot tell you what to do, Gustave. I can only hope you make the right choices. Sooner or later, no matter what path you take, you shall arrive at the same place, and then we will know what must have been done.”

A soft breeze blew from nowhere and with that, Gilbert was back to the nave of the Cathedral, alone, as it was before he talked to the girl.

Goddess or not, there was sage advice on her speech. Yet, he is a stubborn man and cannot change so drastically, so quickly.

“Eternal rest grant unto them, O Goddess, and let perpetual light shine upon them.”

*_*_*_*_*

Fire Emblem Masterlist

Three Houses Masterlist

#fire emblem #Gilbert Pronislav #Sothis

[trashficdumpster]

Rhea was pleasantly surprised to find out that Byleth seemed to take great satisfaction in helping others. It was only befitting of Sothis’ vessel to share the same benevolence the goddess possessed. It pleased Rhea even more that Byleth was willing to fulfill most any request she personally asked, no matter how menial the task. While most of the other faculty found their new co-worker’s subdued nature unnerving, Rhea could read Byleth’s face and tone quite easily. After all, Sitri had been much the same way. Until she met Jeralt.

Jeralt Eisner. Rhea was still rather fond of him, despite his apparent betrayal. She could allow him to keep his distance from her as long as he never raised his sword at the church. He’d taken his title as a Knight of Seiros back with less reluctance than expected. For this, Rhea thanked her mother above – Jeralt was an excellent soldier and commander. His presence around the monastery made Rhea more comfortable. In his youth, he reminded her of Wilhelm, which is why she supposed she favored Jeralt all those years ago.

As Rhea reflected on Jeralt, her thoughts were inevitably pulled to the last, painful memory she had of Sitri – her twelfth attempt at creating the ideal vessel. She had come to see Sitri almost as a daughter. Her poor health barred her from ever hosting Sothis’ power, but killing her to take the crest stone back was too cruel. It would have been no different from those monsters slaughtering Rhea’s kin in Zanado. When the sickly girl had announced her engagement to Jeralt, Rhea had given her blessing without a second thought. Jeralt brought Sitri to life. She was owed at least that much for all her suffering.

Sitri had come to her one day absolutely radiant with joy. She was pregnant. Rhea had schooled her expression into a gracious smile, hiding her shock. This was something the archbishop never would have anticipated. How was this possible? Surely Sitri would lose the infant early on.

But she did not lose the child.

As Rhea’s twelfth attempt lay on her deathbed in a pool of blood that could not be staunched, she asked that her last moments be spent with the archbishop, whom she saw as a mother. Jeralt had nearly been thrown from the room, not wanting to leave his wife’s side. The babe had entered the world without a sound nor a breath nor a beating heart. It would be even more painful for Jeralt to go on without even his own child. Rhea had held her…daughter’s hand gently, and leaned in close to hear her final words. Save the baby, Sitri had croaked, delirious in her death throes. Rhea’s mind had scrambled for anything to say, anything that might comfort the girl before her. In any other circumstance, she would have offered some platitude – that the goddess would prevail – but that seemed wrong.

And then Rhea had glanced at the stillborn infant. Perhaps not all was lost. Sitri’s body could not handle the power of the crest stone. Although she never turned into a demonic beast, her health had always been fragile. But Sitri’s child possessed Rhea’s blood – Sothis’ blood – from both parents. Rhea whispered to her dear Sitri that she would be able to save the infant, and though she hesitated divulging what the cost would be, Sitri had only sighed with relief and nodded as she lost consciousness.

With a heavy heart, Rhea had cut open Sitri’s chest and removed her mother’s crest stone. It seemed large in her hand as Rhea hovered over the stillborn babe. She’d carefully implanted the stone in the girl’s chest cavity, next to her un-beating heart, and sealed the wound with white magic honed over many centuries of healing wounds. There would be no scar to mar the child’s flesh. No evidence of the procedure.

Rhea had cloaked Sitri’s body in a white blanket and had her most trusted monks take her to be embalmed deep under the monastery. There had been a tense, hopeless few moments before the baby girl finally took a breath. She had leaned in to listen to the infant’s breathing, only to find that even her sharp hearing could not pick up on a heartbeat. The child began to move, but no sound left her throat. No scream to announce new life.

But the baby lived. Against all odds, Rhea’s hasty operation had succeeded. Nothing in her centuries of experience had ever suggested that this was possible. It was a leap of faith fueled by a dying wish. Rhea was torn between sorrow, having lost someone who had shone so brightly, and hope for Sothis’ return. Surely it was auspicious that the crest stone brought life to a still heart.

And so, Rhea had washed her bloody hands clean and swaddled the girl in clean blankets to present her to Jeralt. As she’d gazed at the newly minted father weeping as he held the puny life in his hands, Rhea promised herself she would prevail in her mission to revive the goddess. This loss would not be in vain.

Rhea was pulled out of her reminiscing as Catherine announced a visitor’s presence. “Lady Rhea, Byleth is here to see you.” As always, Catherine’s voice was loud and clear even through the thick wood of the doors to her personal quarters. Rhea crossed the floor of her room quickly to open the door herself. She saw Catherine guarding the entrance rather aggressively and Byleth standing there with a bewildered look in her large blue eyes.

“You summoned me?” The young professor asked. Catherine seemed suspicious. Rightfully so, Rhea reasoned, seeing as she rarely received anyone in her chambers.

“Yes, I did. Catherine, please let her come in.”

Catherine frowned, but obliged at once. She adjusted Thunderbrand on her belt and assumed a more relaxed stance.

“I believe Shamir has some information pertinent to your next mission. I think the professor is more than capable of protecting me in your stead.” Catherine’s brow twitched as it did when she was irritated, but only nodded curtly and left Rhea and Byleth alone without complaint. Rhea beckoned the other woman in and closed the door behind them. She pulled the only chair in the room from her private dining table for Byleth to sit.

“You will have to forgive my manners. It’s not often I entertain others here.”

Byleth took her seat without saying anything. She seemed a little apprehensive, but not afraid. Rhea took the opportunity to take in the sight before her. The muscles of Byleth’s arms and legs looked thicker, and her face was fuller than when she had first arrived. She looked strong and healthy. For a moment, Rhea allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to be held in those arms when her mother returned. It would feel safe and warm, she thought, and the world would be right again.

“You look well,” Rhea finally said, “I take it you are growing accustomed to monastery life?”

Byleth nodded slowly, still unsure. “Yes, Lady Rhea.”

“Please, when we are together like this, I am speaking to you not as the archbishop, but as myself.” Rhea smiled gently. “Ah, you must be wondering why I invited you here. I simply wish to know you better. Jeralt and I used to be quite close, so I feel as though you are something akin to family.”

“He…never mentioned you until we arrived at the monastery.” Well, that certainly wounded Rhea. It was clear that Byleth was like Jeralt – blunt – but honest. At the very least, Jeralt hadn’t turned his daughter against her.

“While it hurts me to hear that, I suppose remembering his time here might bring forth some unpleasant memories.” The way Byleth sat up straighter did not slip by Rhea’s watchful gaze. “Unfortunately, I feel that it not my place to disclose those particular memories. Would you like to hear about how we came to meet?”

If Byleth was disappointed, she did not show it. “I’d like that very much.”

And so Rhea told Byleth the tale of how Jeralt, a brazen young mercenary, took as blow meant for her. He’d been mortally wounded, and Rhea had taken it upon herself to heal the boy. She omitted exactly how she managed to save Jeralt’s life, of course. Rhea went on to explain how she had offered Jeralt a position as a Knight of Seiros and how he quickly earned the respect and admiration of his comrades.

“He quickly became the prime example of what every knight should aspire to.”

“I had no idea. Thank you for telling me.” Whatever tension Byleth held in her posture had long disappeared. “I was wondering if you know about my mother? He must have met her here, if he spent so much time as a knight.” Her large blue eyes were full of questions. Rhea’s heart throbbed in her chest. She had met many orphans over her long life. Not knowing one’s parents was unspeakably painful – and knowing one’s parents and having them ripped away hurt even more. And yet, Rhea had not figured out how she would tell Byleth about Sitri.

A loud series of raps on the door saved Rhea from an uncomfortable explanation. It was a double-edged blade, though, as it meant her time with Byleth was at its end. Rhea placed a hand on Byleth’s shoulder in a placating gesture. It warmed her that the other woman did not shy away. “That is for Jeralt to tell you. I would not betray his trust. But know that you are always welcome here.”

“I understand. Thank you again.” Byleth stood and made her way out, only for Seteth to come in. He frowned slightly, and Rhea knew he wanted to say something.

Her relative chose wisely and kept quiet on the matter. He finally spoke when Byleth was out of earshot. “We have word that Lord Lonato of House Gaspard is amassing troops to challenge us. The western church must be suppressed before they sow more discontent.” Rhea’s good mood spoiled in an instant.

“How many knights do we have in the monastery?” Rhea’s voice dropped low as she felt hot rage bubbling through her body. Those who dared bare their fangs at her would be crushed.

“Not very many. Many of them are out doing patrols or running drills.”

“House Gaspard does not have a standing army. A handful of trained infantry at best.”

“No, but Lord Lonato has received support from a local militia.”

“Those numbers are inconsequential. Send Catherine and her battalion. The Black Eagle House will join them. They will subdue Lonato’s men and bring the western bishops back here for judgment.” Seteth grunted his begrudging agreement and left to give the orders, leaving Rhea alone with her thoughts. The traitors would be taken care of shortly. This knowledge calmed her as she made her way to the Star Terrace to pray to her mother.

As of late, Rhea swore she could hear the faintest whispers in response to her prayers. What the whispers said, she could not tell. But when she finished her worship and took time to meditate, her mind was drawn back to Byleth’s hopeful eyes.

#fire emblem three houses #rhea #byleth #rhealeth #i am trash